Trilling of Birds

A Tribute to September 11th. Axel, a volunteer firefighter, is one of the first responders in Lower Manhattan in 2001. The tumbling of the world's two tallest buildings brings Roxas's world tumbling as well. AkuRoku

Warnings: Foul language, character death, a bit of gore.

6:21 AM

Light was barely beginning to brighten the blue curtains when Roxas groaned and turned in his bed. He sighed and cracked an eye open, peering at the glowing green numbers of his alarm clock. The dim lines slowly sharpened into focus. Roxas moaned unhappily; no wonder it was so dim in his room, it was freakishly early. He didn't have class until four.

But after a bit of tossing under the sheets, Roxas decided that this must be a sign from God telling him to get up early this morning and ought to just get an early start. Begrudgingly, the blonde rolled out of bed and mussed his bed head hair to the side with his fingers. He had showered before bed and ended up sleeping on his left side, just as he always did. This meant that all of his straight blonde hair had dried very much flat on the left side of his head, and stuck out in all sorts of directions on the right. At some point in high school, having his hair spiked up to the right had been his signature sort of hairstyle. No one realized it was just bed head.

Roxas stumbled down the hallway of his small one-bedroom half-bath apartment. It was tiny and affordable for the young college student, and his roommate didn't seem to mind the lack of space. Speaking of said roommate, the tall redhead didn't seem to be anywhere in sight as Roxas dragged his feet into the kitchen. He must have gotten up even earlier than Roxas had to get to the firehouse early.

Axel was less of Roxas's roommate and it was more like Axel crashed on Roxas's couch when he wasn't on shift at the firehouse. Roxas felt a twinge of pity for the redhead and his unfortunate situation. The two of them had been close friends since grade school. Around middle school, Axel's mother had packed up and left him with his father. His father had been a professional firefighter for all Axel's life. Years after his mother ditched them, during Axel's junior year in high school, his father had not come home one day.

Roxas had been more torn up than Axel had. The lanky teen had just lowered his head and stared at the floor when he'd heard the news. Roxas had been the one to shed tears; not just for the father of his best friend, but for the anguish his best friend had hidden.

So after the pair of them applied for grant after grant for college, they both were accepted and enrolled in Columbia University. Roxas for engineering and Axel for arts. Seemed sort of backwards, didn't it? Axel wanted to be a professional photographer. But his love for art didn't stop him from following in his late father's footsteps to get him through college. The firefighters were given room and board, electricity and food while they were on shift. So Axel took classes part time and lived at the firehouse. And Roxas was a full time student and worked part time. It worked, strangely, even though their schedules often made it so they rarely saw each other and often ate alone. But it worked.

And the early hour inspired Roxas into doing something he often didn't do. So instead of fixing himself coffee and just getting a roll for breakfast, he pulled on some clean-ish jeans and a fresh shirt. Then he grabbed his keys and stepped into his shoes. He didn't have the money for a cell phone, so he just took his wallet and left.

He still drove his first car; the old monster worked, though it did smell kind of bad inside if it got too hot. But the early September air was nice, warm with the sunshine, yet cool with the breeze. It was a Tuesday and so all the well-to-do folks were getting up and gearing up for a day in the office. Roxas slid into his 1993 Buick Century and drove to the café a few blocks down. He picked up sandwiches and a couple pastries there along with two steaming cups of coffee, and drove down to the firehouse.

6:45 AM

The firehouse was a big industrial building made of old bricks and essentially looked like a series of large garages with another story above it. Which, essentially, was exactly what it was. Roxas parked the Buick in the parking lot around on the side, recognizing Axel's truck there as well, and hopped out with his cargo balanced between his two hands. He strolled right into one of the open garages, slipping between two massive yellow-green fire trucks with a cup of coffee in either hand. Glancing around and ducking under huge yellow-and-black striped hoses that dangled from the ceiling, the blonde tried to find the right door. He spotted another fireman he knew: Zack Fair. He was a young guy, around 20 or so, and was at least not a total bigot or self-important ass, so Roxas called out to him.

Zack turned and grinned at the familiar blonde boy. "Hey there! You here for Axel?"

Roxas nodded in confirmation. "He's not out on a call, right?"

Zack shook his head, holding the door open for Roxas. "Nope, all's been quiet." He made mysterious shifty eyes. "Tooooo quiet." He murmured conspiratorially.

Roxas chuckled and stomped up the stairs with Zack chattering beside him. Roxas was only half listening. "...And you know Cloud, always worrying to himself. That punk ain't cut out for this kinda business."

Roxas only nodded mildly, not really familiar with Cloud. He just knew that he and Zack were good friends.

"Axel's probably in the TV room. Come on, I'll walk you." Zack said offhandedly, starting off down the hall, passing by a pole integrated into the wall for the guys to slide down to save time. Roxas trailed behind him quietly, always the subdued one.

Roxas spotted Axel reclining in a chair when they entered the dark TV room. There was a magazine over his face and his mouth was very clearly hanging open in noisy sleep, and he was wearing the black T-shirt all firemen wear with his station's insignia over his heart in white. Some news channel was on the glowing TV and one other guy was sprawled on the couch, and he glanced up when they strolled in. Noting Roxas's presence, the guy snagged an empty can off the floor and chucked it at Axel's snoring face.

Clang!

"Ag-Gah!" Shouted the poor redhead, lunging from the armchair with a wild look on his face. He took in his immediate area and leapt from the chair, baring his teeth at the guy on the couch. "Leon! You dick! I was sleeping!"

Leon rolled his eyes. "No shit. You're boyfriend's here." the brunette told him, turning his attention back to the TV.

6:47 AM

Axel glanced up in surprise, spied Roxas, who was flushed in mortification, then leapt at Leon with kicks and punches and shouts of, "Excuse me?! What did you say, dick head?! You're a real comic; I'm gonna kick the shit out of you!" The two of them rolled off the couch and became a mass of fists and spit and curses. All the while Zack and Roxas laughed their asses off.

Eventually Leon called out for assistance and Zack, ever the knight in shining armor, hauled the temperamental redhead off him. Leon was still grumbling and muttering curses that sounded suspiciously like damning the redhead to burn in hell, 'where he was spawned from anyway' as he stalked out of the room. Axel was pleased with himself, grinning smugly while he nursed his cheek where Leon had managed to catch him.

Roxas rolled his eyes and held out one of the cups of coffee to him. "You didn't eat, right?"

Axel pulled a face and took the coffee. "Eat? Like, actual food? Why do you people eat in the morning anyways?"

Roxas's eye twitched slightly. "Anorexic freak. I brought you breakfast. Thank me. Ungrateful pleb." He turned on his heel and crossed the hallway to the kitchen and eating area.

His best friend followed him. "What the hell is a pleb?" he wondered bewilderedly and took a sip of the warm coffee.

"Well, bye then!" called Zack as he trudged down the stairs, catching onto the 'bro-mode' the two had taken on.

The two of them sat at adjacent chairs along one of the lined up tables. Axel swept his hand across to brush away the crumbs and invisible filth firemen leave behind when they touch things before Roxas set their food out on the table.

"Wait, that smells good actually."

"I'm still waiting on a thank you."

Instead of giving him one, Axel snatched up one of the wrapped sandwiches and tore into the paper. He took a large bite and mumbled around the mouthful, "Wha are ya doin' upft so early anyway?"

Roxas unwrapped his own sandwich, staring at the greasy sausage-egg-and-cheese between two bagel halves warily. "Couldn't sleep, so I did God's work and made sure you didn't die of starvation." Roxas grumbled sarcastically. "They feed you here, don't they?" he asked irately, taking a bite of his food.

Axel swallowed and pouted childishly. "No one's gone grocery shopping in days. All that's left is some whole milk and a lump of unwrapped cheese." He shuddered visibly at the thought.

"Dairy. It's good for you."

"Not if it's full of fat and from questionable sources!"

The two ate their meal with their comfortable chatter flowing easily between them. They sipped their coffee, talked about their cars, and devoured their scones as if they hadn't just eaten a whole sandwich. Other guys had wandered in and chatted for a bit, only to drift off and allow them to resume the way they talked. Hours seemed to pass as they just sat there, talking.

"Any interesting calls lately?" It was an entertaining to hear the adventurous or ridiculous stories Axel came home with.

Axel groaned and laid his head on the table. "Nah. We had one about two hours ago though. Thing was so small I could have pissed on it to put it out." He scowled pathetically with his arms spread out on the tabletop.

Roxas leaned in his chair and rolled his eyes. "You're a child."

Axel glared at him, then suddenly grinned; an all toothy and mischievous grin. And before Roxas could react, the older man's foot came up and tipped his chair over. With a loud bang and a gasp, Roxas and the chair hit the floor. Axel nearly fell out of his laughing.

"I am gonna hit you so hard—" Roxas's threat was cut short when a series of muffled beeps were heard.

The two of them glanced out the open door into the hallway, listening to muffled thumps and spits of curses. The beeping noise consisted of singular beeps that went low and high consecutively. Axel grinned.

"What are you..." Roxas eyed Axel warily.

"Son of a bitch – Where is it?!" shouted a voice in the hall.

"Wait for it..." murmured Axel with that catlike grin.

Roxas fell silent, listening. The isolated tones suddenly turned into a shrill chirping, a warbling vibration of high pitched sound. It sounded animalistic, like insects or birds. There was more cursing from the foul mouth in the hallway.

"Shit- ZACK! Where'd you put it?! You ass, I'll kick you from here to next week!"

Zack's familiar laugh resounded down the halls.

Roxas turned a questioning look to Axel, who seemed highly amused by the whole debacle. Axel met his eyes and grinned. "Zack must have hid Cloud's old PASS device." He explained simply.

Roxas blinked, having no idea what a PASS device was, and just glanced back toward the hallway. Outside, it sounded like Cloud was the one fumbling around out there, spitting curse words and clamoring with the lockers along the wall. The sound of a locker slamming open was followed by a proclamation of, "Got it!" and the chirping stopped.

There were stomps down the hall, in the opposite direction of where Roxas and Axel were. "ZACK!" came the faded shout as Cloud turned the corner, storming toward his victim.

Roxas righted his chair and sat back down, eyeing Axel. "What's a PASS device?" he asked.

Axel turned back to face him after watching the hallway with glee. "Oh, it's something that is hooked up to our bottles. It's got a motion sensor in it that goes off if we sit still for too long. It's supposed to help locate fallen firemen and stuff." He seemed to be considering something for a moment, "I'm pretty sure... Yeah, P-A-S-S stands for 'Personal Alarm Safety System.' Got it memorized?" Axel teased and grinned. "Cloud's got an old one that was separate from the packs, and has to be turned on manually. We hide it from him all the time."

Roxas had forgotten that the firehouse was like a daycare for full grown men who liked to play pranks on each other. Once there had been a joke going around with lawn flamingos. They had about a dozen of these flamingos that firefighters would find in their front lawns suddenly. Then they would stick them all in another fireman's lawn. Roxas had them in his yard twice before the joke died.

Axel ran a hair through his spiky red hair. "So," he began, startling Roxas. "What's your plan for today?"

Roxas glanced at his friend's hair; it was so red it was ridiculous. The guy had hair redder than Santa Clause's suit. "I don't know." He said with a shrug, "Laze around until class. Then I work from six til eleven."

Axel grimaced in pity for him. "Don't you have class at nine in the morning tomorrow?" He wondered aloud.

Roxas was shocked he remembered. "Yeah. It'll be fine."

"If you're sure..." Axel trailed off. It was quiet for a moment, neither of them sure of what to say next. The atmosphere suddenly seemed tense, the air thick with some unsaid thought that was on one of their minds. It stretched until it grew heavy, so heavy that Roxas felt he was choking on it. The silence. It was uncomfortable, and unnatural for them.

Finally Axel broke it, albeit awkwardly. "So, Roxas... You-"

Roxas wouldn't get to heard what he said because the alarm suddenly blared. Lights flashed around the kitchen as a siren wailed over Axel's words. The blonde watched his friend stand up, his face had completely changed.

Time to work.

Axel swept his eyes to Roxas once, and immediately he understood. The blonde grinned and stood up. "I'll see you later." Footsteps had already filled the hallway.

Axel grinned toothily back at him. "Yeah."

Roxas followed Axel out of the kitchen as the redhead jogged around the corner. The red head beelined it for the pole, but he threw a smirk over his shoulder. "Here's your chance! Ride down after me and I'll catch ya if you fall."

Roxas was already ignoring him. "I'll take the stairs." He said as he did just that, leaving the pouting redhead behind.

Axel of course beat him to the first level, and most of the other guys were already down there, yanking on their gear with quick, practiced moves. Roxas edged around them, trying to make it out of the massive garage before they started up the monstrous truck. The young man managed to slip out just as the driver, Cloud, jumped in and turned the ignition on.

It was all a blur of motion, shouts of instructions, the clatter of boots and the pang of things hitting metal. But it looked like a choreographed dance almost. The way the men leapt into action, took everything they needed, and how quickly they were able to leave? They were like a machine. Each one was like a singular, vital part to a perfect machine.

8:51 AM

Roxas stood by his car and fished the keys out of his pocket, but turned when the firetruck's horn went off twice. He glanced back at the garage where the truck was slowly pulling out, red and white lights already flashing and whirling. He spotted Axel in the back, rolling down the window.

Roxas smirked and raised a hand in sort of a half-assed wave as they rolled by. Cloud hit the siren as Axel stuck his stupid head out the open window, grinning and shouting something to Roxas that he couldn't hear over the wailing siren.

Rolling his eyes, Roxas turned back to his car and stuck his key in the lock. But as the truck stopped to merge with traffic, he found himself glancing back up at the truck. His friend noticed and stuck his arm out to wave outlandishly, looking goofy and happy as he grinned hugely at him. The sun was bright and made everything glow in the morning light, and the sweetness of the late summer air brought a feel of nostalgic happiness to the scene.

Roxas didn't realize that it would be the very last time he saw his best friend alive.

9:02 AM

Roxas tossed his keys onto the counter and kicked off his shoes once he was home. He threw the deadbolt behind him and grumbled a little as he trudged into the small living room area. It was just a couch against one wall and a small TV adjacent to it on a rickety wooden stand. He flopped on the couch and yawned sleepily; the earliness of his awakening had finally caught up with him. Maybe a nap before class, he thought as he flicked on the TV.

It turned onto the last channel that had been on: abc news apparently. A staticky masculine voice crackled through the aged speakers: "It appears that the- there is more and more fire and smoke... enveloping the very top of the building..."

Roxas sat up straight on the couch, no longer tired. He fumbled to turn up the volume, and the crackling voice became louder. "And as fire crews..." The image on the screen depicted a building he knew very well; he'd passed by it more than once while driving through the city. "...are descending on this area..." Smoke hung heavily at the crown of the building, billowing into the air. Oh, god. Axel. "It does not appear to have any kind of-"

Roxas shot off the couch at what he saw. From the right of the frame, a huge silhouette of an airplane came flying straight towards the South tower. The man on the television continued talking even as fire burst from the side of the building, smoke and debris spurting from the fiery wound. The man's voice cut off mid sentence.

"Oh-Oh my god!" there was a chorus of similar exclamations that came from the television in the background as the crew in the studio shouted their own disbelief. The voices from the TV babbled in their shock, trying to remain composed on the air as this tragedy occurred right before their eyes.

Roxas covered his mouth in shock. The World Trade Center was on fire. There was a horrible accident. He wondered about that plane, who would do something so reckless? The announcer proclaimed it to be a second plane. A second! It wasn't an accident; there was no way two planes could fly into huge buildings on accident. He flipped the channel, finding the very same thing being reported. On every channel, there were distorted voices reacting to the shocking scene from all different camera angles.

He sunk slowly onto the couch cushion, in shock of it as his finger numbly pressed the next channel button. It was all the same.

It couldn't be real. Someone was... playing a joke. It wasn't happening here, it was happening somewhere else. It wasn't the Twin Towers that were pumping the air with smoke, it was happening somewhere else. A plane didn't just fly right through the middle of the South Tower before his very eyes, it wasn't here.

Numbness took over him as he slowly realized that it wasn't a joke. The more channels he flipped through the more it proved it to him. He lowered his hand from his mouth slowly and it came to rest on his knee. Broken sentences babbled from the speakers, often being cut off by his flipping to the next channel.

"This was...on purpose."

"I think we have a terrorist act—"

He flipped through the channels, barely processing the words and pictures before he moved on. But he knew. The World Trade Center in Lower Manhattan was on fire, billowing smoke, with plane pieces scattered all around inside. How many people were in those planes? Were they American planes? They looked to be... How many people were in those buildings? Those buildings were 110 stories tall. How many people would be on each story? How many would manage to get out?

Suddenly all the breath flew out of him as a thought occurred. Axel had been responding to a call. Axel was there. Dread filled his chest and made him choke, gasping for air he couldn't seem to find. He clawed at his throat desperately as his vision blurred. Axel was there. Axel was there, in that hell. Horrified and desperate, he got a hold of himself and dove for his keys, ruining the heels of his shoes as he stumbled out the door.

9:19 AM

People on the streets were frantic, scurrying to their homes, their cars, shouting into their phones. As Roxas missed the keyhole, leaving scratches in the faded paint of the Buick, an Ambulance flew by, wailing its siren to the tense air. Roxas threw himself into the cab and shakily started the car. He needed to get Axel. He needed to get Axel and bring him home. Then he'd be safe.

Roxas broke every rule he ever learned in driving school. He didn't signal, he didn't stop completely at stop signs, and blew through all speed limits posted around the streets. People were scurrying through the streets, and more than once he had to slam on his brakes to let a fleeing person across. There were sirens and emergency vehicles everywhere.

Roxas's heart was slamming against his ribs fast and hard. His breath was coming in short pants that came along with the fear and adrenaline. His thoughts were just one blur of, AxelpleasebesafeAxelpleasebe safeAxelpleasebesafe, Axel for the love of God, please be safe!

9:26 AM

After ages of fighting traffic, he turned a corner without using his turn signal and the towers came into view. Smoke was billowing from the top of the North tower, and half of the South tower was completely engulfed in it. Roxas wondered how many stories high that was. How were they supposed to fight the fire so high up?

He eventually started having difficulty getting closer. Emergency vehicles surrounded the area and blockades were set up on most of the streets. Evacuated people cluttered the streets and sidewalks, clutching onto things and looking hysteric. Ambulances and fire trucks wailed up and down the streets, trying to get closer or get away. Car horns blared as people tried to drive away from the horror, often getting in Roxas's way.

Eventually he just got frustrated and ditched the car, not bothering to lock it as he took the keys and booked it, his eyes on the towers recklessly the entire time. Was Axel inside? How would he get to him? Which one would he be in? How high up was he? Roxas's heart hammered in his chest as the possibility that Axel wasn't okay rang in his head painfully.

What would he possibly do without him?

Roxas barreled through pedestrians fleeing the area, dodged around police officers who tried to hold people back and direct evacuees to safe places. He eventually realized that even the ones who were directing and helping them were terrified themselves. This frightened even the officers who were usually seen as pillars of calm and collectedness. This must mean that this event must truly be horrible, if it was terrifying them.

Roxas ran with all he had, air cutting painfully through his lungs as he wove through the emergency vehicles and news crews packed around the site. Axel. Axel. Axel.

A/N: I know it's too late to be considered on-time, but I started working on it this morning and had to finish it after getting back from the mechanic's, then after class, then after getting home from my friend's place. It was intended to be a one-shot, but will have to be a two-shot apparently. I will finish it after class tomorrow, for sure.

Please review. Let me know what you think.

Never forget,

Rain