9/11/2001: The beginnings.
Sep. 11th, 2008 01:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bohemian_markLooking back years later, Mark would never know why he had decided to do a series on Battery Park during different times of day. He almost didn't go that morning, but waking up early, he caught a strange quality of the light through the clouds, and hopped on his bike.
People were, as always, milling about below the Trade Centre towers. Suits on cellphones complained at their brokers, their wives, or whoever was on the other end of the line. Other people wandered around, on the way to their jobs in other parts of the city. Turning his camera upward, he framed a shot. However, after about a minute, something caught his eye. A... plane, flying in at a very wrong angle.
September eleventh, eight forty-five AM, eastern standard time. Filming in Battery Park, a plane is flying a bit too low… oh fuck.... Mark fell silent as the plane crashed into the side of one of the Trade Centre buildings. Oh my god. The plane just flew into the building. Holy fuck. Mark kept his camera running as people jumped out of windows, ran out of the building, and some brave souls ran -into- the building. About fifteen minutes later, on a pan-up to the smoke pouring out of the building, something else caught his trained eye.
Oh my god. He couldn't move his camera as a -second- plane crashed into the other tower. What in the fuck is going on here? In an instant, however, his manner changed, from directorial curiosity to human panic. Throwing his camera in his bag, he pulls out his cellphone. Dead. Slamming it back into his pocket, he took off at a run toward the buildings. Whatever the fuck just happened was not good. And he was going to do something about it.
People were, as always, milling about below the Trade Centre towers. Suits on cellphones complained at their brokers, their wives, or whoever was on the other end of the line. Other people wandered around, on the way to their jobs in other parts of the city. Turning his camera upward, he framed a shot. However, after about a minute, something caught his eye. A... plane, flying in at a very wrong angle.
September eleventh, eight forty-five AM, eastern standard time. Filming in Battery Park, a plane is flying a bit too low… oh fuck.... Mark fell silent as the plane crashed into the side of one of the Trade Centre buildings. Oh my god. The plane just flew into the building. Holy fuck. Mark kept his camera running as people jumped out of windows, ran out of the building, and some brave souls ran -into- the building. About fifteen minutes later, on a pan-up to the smoke pouring out of the building, something else caught his trained eye.
Oh my god. He couldn't move his camera as a -second- plane crashed into the other tower. What in the fuck is going on here? In an instant, however, his manner changed, from directorial curiosity to human panic. Throwing his camera in his bag, he pulls out his cellphone. Dead. Slamming it back into his pocket, he took off at a run toward the buildings. Whatever the fuck just happened was not good. And he was going to do something about it.
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no subject
Date: 2008-09-12 12:37 am (UTC)Turning, Mark seemed to fly across the wreckage, reaching out and holding Sara close. "Sara. My Sara." It's all he can get out.
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Date: 2008-09-12 12:39 am (UTC)She felt Collins wrap his arms around both of them and saw him lean his head close to one of Mark's ears. "Better not argue with her assessment," he said softly with deceptive calm. "We've been beyond terrified and you know how well that sits with me."
Hollow words.
Sara stood in the safety of her husband and brother's arms, feeling rubble beneath her feet.
"I didn't think this would happen again."
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Date: 2008-09-12 12:42 am (UTC)He sighs, brain not able to process her last comment. "I'm sorry. I did what I had to do." He paused. "And I need to go back to it."
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Date: 2008-09-12 12:44 am (UTC)The word is in unison.
"Collins is injured and running the risk of getting sick from this debris. I woke up this morning sick to my stomach. You're injured. We've done our part right now, and we need to get the hell out of here," Sara adds, no less adamant.
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Date: 2008-09-12 12:46 am (UTC)"You fucking idiots. All of you. Adam told me that you'd all run off this morning. I knew I'd find you down here." Roger appears, smacking Mark on the side of the head. "Fucking idiot risking your life for the very people you fight against every day." Secretly, he's relieved, however.
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Date: 2008-09-12 12:48 am (UTC)"Let's go home," Sara said quietly to Mark, turning it into a soft plea.
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Date: 2008-09-12 12:50 am (UTC)Mark nods, but hugs Roger tightly. "Yeah, we need to get this dipshit out of this debris shit."
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Date: 2008-09-12 12:53 am (UTC)Oddly enough, Sara doesn't feel afraid as they walk through the streets. People were coming out, offering help, wondering why such a thing has happened.
For one brief moment, New York City truly is the center of the universe for everyone present.
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Date: 2008-09-12 01:55 am (UTC)Roger shuffles along, hands in his pockets, almost daring anyone to lay a finger on Mark.
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Date: 2008-09-12 01:57 am (UTC)Once they are inside their home, she sags onto a couch.
"Fucking hell."
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Date: 2008-09-12 01:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-12 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-12 02:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-12 02:16 am (UTC)Collins coughs loudly, trying to clear his throat.
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Date: 2008-09-12 02:20 am (UTC)Roger is holding back his coughing. He'll cough when everyone else is asleep.
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Date: 2008-09-12 02:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-12 02:25 am (UTC)Mark sighs. "Don't even think about it, you."
"What? Someone had to drag your sorry ass...."
"Just don't, Roger. Please."
"Alright."
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Date: 2008-09-12 02:27 am (UTC)But when things begin to clear up, they go to one of the clinics as a group, stalwart.
Sara sits in the waiting room, feeling bile at the back of her throat.
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Date: 2008-09-12 02:29 am (UTC)Roger goes in and comes out shrugging. "Well, I'm no sicker than I was before."
Mark eyes him. "That's not that comforting."
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Date: 2008-09-12 02:31 am (UTC)When he comes out, he has several prescriptions in his hand, scowling at them. "Not a word," he warns Roger. "Not one fucking word."
"Mrs. Cohen?" A nurse comes over with Sara's chart. "Please follow me."
Sara stands, not letting go of Mark's hand.
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Date: 2008-09-12 02:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-12 02:42 am (UTC)Eventually, a urine sample is requested.
Some time after that, the doctor comes in. "Well, we've ruled out any infections or illnesses," he tells her, his voice hinting at a Southern drawl. "Seems that you're expecting, Mrs. Cohen."
Sara blinks. "I am?"
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Date: 2008-09-12 02:44 am (UTC)He pauses. "Damnit. I'm being all profound again."
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Date: 2008-09-12 02:45 am (UTC)"Of course not." He leaves the room and Sara clings to Mark again.
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Date: 2008-09-12 02:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-12 02:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-12 02:53 am (UTC)Roger is leaning back, his feet up on a table, humming to himself. Hey. It's always worked before.
"Get up, lazyass, we're going home."
Roger rolls his eyes at his best friend. "Yeah, yeah."
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Date: 2008-09-12 02:56 am (UTC)"You're an uncle again," she says wryly. "Brace yourselves for insane mood swings beyond what I normally do."
Laughter and amazement greet her news and for a time, the cloud of confusion and grief dissipates.