AN: Written in honor of the fifteenth anniversary of 9/11. Partially inspired by a "Blue Bloods" marathon I watched yesterday. It's my first time writing in this world, & it'll probably be my only time. So, please be gentle in your comments.

Erin Reagan-Boyle was very proud of her daughter. Nikki had been doing a lot of volunteer work lately, saying it helped keep her occupied during the summer. One particular thing she enjoyed was the Boys and Girls Club theater group. She wasn't really an actress or singer, per se. But she did a good job with painting scenery, and she often helped new players by reading script-sides with them. She'd been talking for a few weeks about one of the group's directors, a woman in her mid-twenties named Holly Mullins. They were going to meet her tonight. Nikki had invited her entire family to a free workshop the group was putting on.

"She's quiet, until she really gets to know you. And she's super-funny."

Henry said, "Hey, she's an Irish girl. That's good enough for me."

He laughed, when his great-granddaughter gave him a light, playful shove. As they walked into the main theater, a small cluster of older teenagers and twenty-somethings were making adjustments to heavier parts of the scenery. One, in particular, caught their attention. She was standing atop a mini-ladder, screwing in a chandelier. She wore a sleeveless, ruffly, white blouse, denim shorts, and dark brown hiking boots.

Sean softly asked his cousin, "Is that her?"

"Yeah", and she paused, before calling out, "Hey, Holly!"

The woman turned in Nikki's direction, smiling when their eyes met.

"Hey, there! I got your text. I hope the traffic wasn't too bad."

"It was fine. The detour wasn't a problem."

She took a few more steps and continued, "And I meant to tell you, I brought my family with me."

"You meant--"

It was then that Holly spotted Frank, standing a head above everyone else. He smiled, chuckling softly when she jumped down from the ladder and went into a salute.

"At ease, sweetheart. I'm off-duty."

"Just showing respect, sir."

Then, she spotted Danny. There was that odd flicker of recognition in his eyes. She had it, too. Both shook it off, before returning their attentions to other things.

Then, Erin chimed in: "It's nice to finally meet you, Holly. We've heard so much about you and the group."

Shaking the older woman's hand, she replied, "I appreciate that. We do what we can here for the community. I mean, it's small, but it makes a difference."

"Sounds a bit like me", said Jamie.

That earned a laugh from everyone.

"Um...why don't you all have a seat, and I'll go get some sodas from the machine in the back. What would you like?"

Only Jamie, Nikki, Danny, and Sean actually needed the drinks. They made it easy on her, all asking for Coke. As Holly walked away, the boy noticed a strip of shiny pink skin, wrapping around her right calf. It was a scar of some kind, but it was hard to tell what it could've come from. Nikki noticed him staring.

She tapped his shoulder and said quietly, "Nobody knows how she got it. I guess they're too nervous to ask."

"Okay."

By the time Holly got back and was handing over the sodas, Sean's curiousity finally got the better of him.

He smiled and thanked her for the Coke, before asking, "How did you hurt your leg?"

"Honey", his mother whispered sharply, lightly smacking his arm.

"It's fine, Mrs. Reagan."

"Call me Linda."

"Great. And, uh...I guess you guys should know."

"Why us", asked Erin.

Holly simply sighed, dragging over a chair and sitting backwards on it.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "I got this scar, when I was ten years old. My little sister and I were playing tag, and we somehow got separated from our parents. We got so lost, that we wound up in downtown Manhattan."

"Must've been pretty scary for kids that young."

She told Henry, "You have no idea."

Then, she continued, "Anyway...I remember that it was a perfect, crystal-blue sky. And there", and her voice began to get a bit spacey as the memory came back, "-there was smoke, drifting all over the place. Black smoke. Pieces of paper. I heard people screaming and crying, some of them even cursing."

She didn't need to give specifics. In that moment, everyone knew what day she was talking about.

They listened as she confirmed their suspicions: "The ground started to shake. My little sister screamed and pointed at the sky. When I looked up...I saw the South Tower began to come down. I turned around, practically dragging her down the street as we ran."

Erin asked, "What happened next?"

She told her, "I felt this...grainy breeze, if that makes any sense, tickling the backs of my legs. I knew I wasn't going to get totally away, but I'd have been damned if my sister didn't. I grabbed a fistful of the back of her shirt, and I threw her into a nearby alley. Something really heavy knocked me down. As my head hit the pavement, and I began blacking out, the last thing I rememebred was hearing Tricia scream for me"

It was all the Reagans could do not to cry, including the men. And that was saying something, considering the fact that most of them had seen the warfront. Images flashed in quick succession through Frank's mind, in particular. For a brief second, he felt the added weight of his protective gear. He could smell the smoke, and he felt his heartbeat increase in speed. He didn't want to say anything, though. He knew that sharing this could be therapeutic for Holly, and it'd be rude to interrupt that.

She continued, "I'm not sure of how much time passed, before I came to. When I opened my eyes, Tricia was kneeling in the ash, shaking me. I tried to reassure her. But then, I reaized I couldn't move. A piece of debris had pinned my right leg. I was bleeding pretty badly, and I could hardly feel my toes. I remember just...praying. I crossed myself, praying that God would give me the strength to move that piece of beam. It was hell, trying to stand up and walk away from there. Everything around us looked like the moon landing. Nothing but grey dust as far as I could see."

Sean asked how she was able to find help. She gave a tiny smile, patting his arm.

Then, she said, "Yeah. I did find help. Or rather, it found me."

"What does that mean", Jamie asked.

She replied, "Tricia and I were leaning against the wall of some department store. I can't recall the name. We were exhausted, scared, thirsty, my leg was on fire...it was surreal in a dark way. The pain was so bad, that I nearly passed out again. But right as my eyelids began drifting shut, I heard a deep voice, yelling to me. I knew it wasn't my dad, but I still looked up. I was coughing, couldn't stop from all the dust...and then, these eyes looking down at me. A young guy in a police cadet's t-shirt...he kept asking me if I was okay, if my sister was okay. Tricia was crying. He promised her a lollipop, just to make her smile. I don't know how he did this, but he carried her on his left hip, while helping me to walk on his other side. He got us to an ambulence. I remember the gold cross around his neck. I remember pointing at it and saying I'd pray for him."

"What did he say", Linda asked.

"He told me he'd pray for me, too, and he called me 'doll'. I told him I liked his dimples, and he blushed. He ruffled both my hair and Tricia's, before turning on his heel and running off to go help someone else. But there was...there was one thing that stands out the most for me, beyond anything else that day."

Frank asked her what that thing was. She looked past him towards his oldest son, whose eyes had grown misty.

Holly's reponse came out slightly-choked: "The cadet's last name was on the back of his shirt. It was Reagan."

Everyone turned around and looked at Danny, shock clear on their faces. He stood up and walked over to her. She stood up, as well.

His voice was surprisingly weak as he asked, "It was fifteen years ago. How the hell do you remember that?"

"How could I forget the man, who probably helped save my and my sister's life?"

Danny wasn't normally a touchy-feely guy with people he wasn't related to or helping in a case, but this was different. Holly saluted him, and he saluted back. But when she went to shake his hand, he surprised her by pushing that hand away. Before she could question him, he pulled her into a hug. She buried her face in his shoulder, finally okay with letting the tears flow.

"Thank you", she whispered.

He replied softly, "Just doin' my job. No thanks needed."

Nobody else was paying attention to Frank, so they didn't notice the smile that bloomed on his face.

There was pride in his voice as he said, "That's my boy."

AN: I hope I got everyone's personalities right. I was in fifth grade, when the attacks happened. I remember watching it on the television in my classroom. RIP to everyone who died, and my prayers are with everyone who still carries on. And by the way, the title for this fic was borrowed from a certain patriotic song, written after this tragedy occurred.