A/N: This was intended to be posted tomorrow, but I would rather have it up come morning. We all know what today is, so I dedicate this piece to all those who lost someone in the terrorist attacks. Let us never forget.
SIX YEARS LATER
Mac knew this was coming, and no matter how hard he ran he couldn't escape it. It never got any easier, going down to the very site where his wife had died.
Murdered.
She was murdered in cold blood, along with thousands of other innocent people. He had no idea that her walking out the front door would be the last time they would lay eyes on each other. Several hours later he would watch the news, not bothering to flip the channel as it was all over the headlines. He knew right away she was dead. She had been in one of the towers, going about her business when…
Mac shook his head, trying to rid himself of the horrid reverie. Fixing his tie, he breathed in and examined himself in the mirror of his apartment. He was one of the guest speakers at the annual memorial – as well as one of the many slated to read the names of the deceased – set to take place in about an hour. The team was also invited, as the tragedy had affected them in some way or another. In the days leading up to the anniversary, they had offered their sympathy for their boss but respectively gave him personal space.
He fiddled with a piece of paper on which he had written his speech. The Mayor had asked him back every year, and every year Mac had accepted somewhat reluctantly. He was not entirely keen on the whole idea, and preferred to steer clear of the grounds. Being surrounded by death and evil at the same time was almost too much for Mac to handle, yet he always agreed to come down and speak to the massive crowd that turned out on each of the past five occasions.
Flattening his coat, Mac took one last look at his sharp form before leaving.
---
The American flag - which had been first raised on the afternoon of the attacks - greeted the team at half-mast as they entered Ground Zero. Each held up their badge for easy access. All around them were relatives of the victims, and even those who had not lost anyone but still felt the need to show their condolences.
Stella patted Mac's shoulder, knowing how difficult the moment was for him. There was no need for words as the colleagues embraced one another, all aware that sometimes it was best to say nothing at all.
As the other guest speakers shuffled onto the stage, Mac nodded good-bye to his team and made his way over. He was met by Mayor Michael Bloomberg, who shook his hand firmly.
"Nice to see you here, Detective. Take a seat; we're just about to begin."
---
As it was in years past, Bloomberg spoke the opening remarks. As Mac sat and listened to his words, he peered at the seemingly thousands of people who lined the site, each one consumed in their own thoughts and memories. He spotted his team near the front. Danny and Lindsay were holding hands, the three men – Hawkes, Adam and Flack – were simply listening to the Mayor's speech, and Stella's eyes were fixated on his own, studying him carefully. The remaining buildings loomed over all, and Mac felt as if they were almost protecting the New Yorkers who were now huddled together.
"...and now I would like to present to you our first guest speaker, Detective Mac Taylor from the NYPD."
Mac rose amidst the silence. It was customary for the crowd to hold their applause until the end of the ceremony, a sign of respect for the ones who gave their lives that horrific day. Placing his sheet on the podium, Mac let his eyes skim over the audience before clearing his throat and speaking.
"Thank you Mayor Bloomberg. I come here today for the same purpose as most of you: I lost a loved one. My wife Claire was in the North Tower that morning. Six years have passed, and I can still see her face and hear her voice. I still remember waking up that morning and kissing her good-bye as she left for work, saying how much I loved her. I remember watching the news and hearing about all the other deaths. But that's all I remember. The rest of the day was a blur, a whirlwind of emotion, denial, and anger.
Today is not a day to mourn, nor is it a day to weep. It is a day to remember. We must remember those who bravely gave their lives to save the ones who were trapped inside the buildings, and those who helped people on the streets. It is not a day to be angry with the ones responsible. Our loved ones would want us to celebrate their memory instead of shedding tears of sorrow and anger."
His voice suddenly became stronger, firmer. "Today is a day that we remember this tragedy, that we remember what took place here. There may have been death, but there was also life. In a time of confusion and panic, there were brave souls who paid the ultimate sacrifice so we could continue on with our lives. The poem I am about to share is dedicated to not only those warriors, but to the countless victims of this terrible day that will always be etched in the book of history."
"Everything we did,
Everything we said,
Floods into my mem'ry now,
And brings a smile to my face.
Your bravery showed me the way,
Your courage shall always live on.
Though the distance between us now,
Is too far to bear,
Nothing can ever take you away.
I know you are always here,
In a safe place in my heart.
When I walk down this lonely street,
I feel your presence all around me.
You're my rock, my hope,
Your strength gives me the strength to go on.
In a time of need and uncertainty,
You found a path of courage,
Ne'er giving up until the end,
An emblem for all to come.
When I peer at the eternal sky,
I can see you, my warrior star,
Your honour in brightness glows.
And even though I cry o'er you,
I know that someday, sometime,
When my own years draw to a close,
We will meet down the road again."
Mac thanked the audience and retreated to his seat. Several more spoke, including the President, and he tried his best to at least keep his attention focused on them. However, he constantly found his mind wandering back to the last day he laid eyes on Claire. It was as if she had heard the poem; he felt a spirit near him, streaming through his veins like a great river and invading his heart with the warmth he so desperately needed.
In keeping with tradition, a group of people were selected to read off the names of the thousands who had perished in the attacks. Mac awaited his turn patiently, listening intently as two women started the long but respectful process. When he moved back to the podium, he found himself beside a young female. She couldn't have been more than 20 years old, and in her left hand she clutched a picture of an older man, obviously her father. Eyes brimming with tears, she began the next cluster of names, and when she transitioned over to Mac his voice rang out in the morning air like the true leader he was.
Several minutes later his eyes hung over the page, and they fell upon the next name. He swallowed his heart – which had suddenly climbed up into his throat – and spoke.
"Claire Conrad-Taylor."
---
About two hours passed until all the names had been read. There were several moments of silence in the eerie grounds, marking the exact times when the planes crashed into the three landmarks, as well as when each World Trade Centers crumbled to the ground. The final procedure to the ceremony was the Tribute in Light, which consisted of 88 searchlights placed next to the site, creating two vertical beams of bluish light that projected up towards the sky. They would remain lit until early morning, where they would be shut down and stored away until the next anniversary.
"We thank each and every one of you for coming out here today, as you have in years past, and remembering those who died on September 11th, 2001. May their spirits rest in peace." With Bloomberg's final words, the observance was over. The site would stay open for the day, as people were allowed to come and view the Memorial Wall, which held pictures of all the victims and those who were still missing.
Mac met up with the team, and they all agreed to come back down at dusk to view the Lights. Due to the day's significance, the department had allowed them the day off, and so they headed out for some lunch and a quiet afternoon. It was a solemn day, evident in the face of New Yorkers as they passed them on the streets. Though none of them had lost anyone in the attacks, they all felt the pain and emptiness, and the Manhattan skyline still looked bare.
---
It was a cool evening, with a light breeze that swept over the city and a full moon acting as protection. Ground Zero was now closed, but people were huddled around the exterior in an attempt to view the Lights. It didn't matter though; the pillars were taller than the Towers themselves, so they could be seen for miles. The team stood near the entrance of the site, straining their necks upwards. A single cloud hung in the sky, and as it passed over the twin Lights its underlining was illuminated, filling it with a bluish-gray hue.
Mac surveyed his team, and could not hide a smile as they kept their eyes on the beams. Danny and Lindsay - dating for about a year - stood close together as the latter comforted Flack, who had a tendency to be slightly emotional. Beside him were Hawkes and Adam, who swiftly wiped away tears that threatened to fall from their eyes. His brow furrowed at the realization: Stella was missing.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" She appeared on his other side, smiling faintly. Nodding, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, instantly warming her.
"It's beautiful every year."
She titled her head so she was looking at him directly. "How are you holding up?"
"I'll always miss Claire," Mac sighed heavily. "There will always been an empty void in my heart. But a voice is telling me that she's in a good place, and I'm content knowing that."
Before she could respond, he gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for everything Stella. I couldn't do it without you."
She took his hand and squeezed gently. "You did well up there. We're all proud of you, and I know Claire is too."
Still grasping hands, the two close friends shifted their gaze to the Lights, which continued to burn proudly in the sky. Though six years had passed, the pain would never vanish. Nothing would ever be the same for all those who had lost someone that terrible day.
But in a world full of uncertainty, one thing was clear to Mac: he would always have his team.