Thank you to the brave men and women, in the towers, in the planes, and everywhere, for being heroes—whether they died as one or not.
Thank you to Holly, for telling me to write through it.
And thank you to my dad, for coming home.
O-o-O
Julian couldn't sleep.
He'd really tried, and he was tired, but it was six in the morning and he'd been left awake with that I miss you feeling that cut him so deep he couldn't shut off his brain long enough to pass out. So naturally he'd dragged himself outside to beat his head on the railing overlooking the river.
And of course he couldn't be left alone.
"Are you trying to give yourself a concussion?"
Julian sighed. "Can't a man knock himself out in peace?"
"Of course not," Carter said, and then he was leaning against the railing next to Julian.
"Right," Julian said, and stared at the skyline in silence. It was too dark to see much, but he knew it from memory, and even now he could pick out the tiny gap in the skyscrapers.
"Thinking about your dad?" Carter whispered.
Dad. Julian swallowed the lump in his throat. "Yeah," he managed. "I…I miss him."
He went back to observing the outline of Manhattan, which was becoming slightly more visible as the sun started to rise. He looked for the gap. There—Ground Zero. He squinted at it as the sky turned navy blue.
"He was a brave man," Carter offered.
"I know. He was a hero." Julian closed his eyes, tried not to think about his father's heroic last moments. How awful they must have been. Fire, smoke, unbearable heat, screams from the people he couldn't save. His dad had always hated it when he couldn't save someone. He'd come home in an awful mood, skip meals, shut himself away in his room—and then he hadn't come home, and he wouldn't save anyone else, and the bedroom door stayed shut even though there was no one inside.
"Sometimes…I think I'd rather have a dad than a hero," he said.
Carter hung his head. "Me too."
They stood shoulder-to-shoulder as the sun came up, and when Julian looked behind him he saw a dozen kids on the balconies outside their rooms, watching the light. Sadie had her earbuds in. Walt held up a piece of tracing paper, and Julian could see the faint outline of two miniature towers sketched on it. Jaz strummed a few notes on her guitar, too low for him to hear. Felix hugged one of his many stuffed penguins. Cleo was sprawled on her stomach, writing on something in front of her, probably a notebook. Zia just stared at the buildings across the river.
Julian turned back to the Manhattan view just in time to see the sun break the horizon.
O-o-O