Something I wrote about 9-11. I know it's a little late, but I had this idea in my head and had to get it out.
In honor of all those who fell in the fires and destruction of 9-11.
Steve Rogers was under the ice. Cold, drifting. Just another day. He didn't even remember it, his eternity of cold. Tear gas flooded planes. Passengers were stabbed. Steve Rogers drifted.
Tony Stark was at home, lounging on his couch. Flipping through the channels on his television. Plasma screen. 35 inch screen. Surround sound. He stopped. There. On the news.
"A plane has been hijacked on it's way to-" The reporter said. A sickening feeling rose in Tony's stomach. It was 9:00 then.
Natasha Romanoff was undercover. As usual. She was posing as a representative from Russia, at the World Trade Center. Twin Towers. She was trading light banter with someone about the weather when Nick Fury's voice crackled into her ear.
"Cancel all missions. Get out of there now."
"But Fury..." She mumbled into her earpiece, irritated.
"NOW!" He roared.
"Sorry. Gotta go." Natasha waved goodbye and rushed out of the building. She was briskly strolling away from the towers.
"What was that, Fury?" She exclaimed. That was when the plane hit.
Clint Barton was at his house. He was at the door, about to leave for a mission.
"Bye kids!" He hugged his daughter and son tightly. "Gotta go help Aunty Nat."
Then the sounds of destruction rang from the television that was blaring through the house. Gasping, Clint rushed to see.
"A plane has just smashed into one of the Twin Towers!" A frazzled reporter said.
"Good lord." Laura covered her mouth. Clint wrapped an arm around her.
"Nat..." He hugged his wife. "I gotta go make sure that she's okay." Laura nodded.
"I'll...I'll keep watching." Clint gave her a quick kiss and hurried out the door.
Thor was with Jane. She had dragged him to Central Park to run some tests on his hammer.
Jane was smiling. Then her phone rang.
"Hi Darcy." She said. "What?" Her mouth dropped open.
"What is it?" Thor asked.
Jane turned to him.
"Thanks, Darcy..." Her voice shook slightly. "Come on." She grabbed his hand. "I'll explain on the way. Right now I think the Midgardians need some saving."
Bruce Banner was hiding in Brazil. He loved the place. The food, the culture. But he was missing the U.S. He had booked himself a flight back to the U.S. He was a little excited, to be honest.
He was flying. Trying not to look out the window. It scared him a little, to be honest. Not the Other Guy, but the Other Guy wasn't really scared of anything. He was flying over Pennsylvania. Then the plane started bumping. Turbulence? Bruce, unable to help himself, peered out the window.
He saw another plane spiraling downwards. He caught glimpses through the windows. People fighting. People screaming. Knives and blood. Suits and phones. He watched the plane go down. Down. Down. Down so far that he couldn't see it. But he imagined it. He imagined it hitting the ground. Fires burning. Obliteration. Death. He stopped looking. He hid his face in his hands. The Other Guy did too.
So when, on the eleventh of September, his teammates fell silent and spent long minutes lost in thought, sober looks on their faces, Steve wondered. So he asked them what was going on.
And they told him about 9-11. About the hijacking and the Twin Towers. And the fires and the heartbreak and the fear and the pain and the death.
And they told him about how the nation had just shut down for days.
And then Steve was quiet as well.
9-11 was a sad event.
It was an awful event.
But America has recovered.
So, as a nation, we can stand strong. We can stand together. And we can only remember and honor those that were lost.