September 11th, 2001

Engine No 13 screamed as it roared down the avenue. Tuff "Tuffnut" Thorston easily navigated through the busy New York traffic as his sister, Ruff, better known as Ruffnut, yelled directions over the racket of the diesel engine. Stoick had the radio in his hands, his booming voice authoritative and demanding.

Hiccup could just see the plume of smoke from over the tops of the buildings to their left.

"There!" He pointed to the black smoke.

"Hang a left here." Ruffnut told her brother. "No, you idiot! Your other left!"

The twenty-ton truck groaned as Tuffnut took the turn too sharp. Stoick sent the twins a glare, never stopping his conversation with dispatch.

Finally, the fire engine pulled up with a screech. All aboard jumped out, pulling hoses out and hooking them up. Hiccup turned on his nozzle, water spraying to douse the fire that had erupted from under the hood of a yellow taxi.

The team had the fire doused quickly, and began to pack up their supplies. Hiccup checked his watch. 8:46 am. He closed the storage door, checking the latch was secure.

A low drone caught his attention. He looked up to see an airplane flying incredibly low.

"Dad, you've got to see this...Dad!"

Stoick looked at him. "What, son?"

The fire chief looked in the direction Hiccup was staring in time to see the jetliner smash itself in a fiery explosion, into the side of the North Tower.

"HOLY SHIT!" he bellowed. "TUFF! GET US TO THE WORLD TRADE CENTER, NOW!"

Tuffnut was already stomping on the gas, the sirens wailing and lights flashing. Stoick was on his radio again.

"Engine Thirteen to Manhattan."

"Engine Thirteen, go."

"We've got a 10-60, airplane crash at the World Trade Center, Building One-"

"WHAT!?"

"Repeat, 10-60 at WTC 1. Multiple fires on upper floors, debris falling."

Another unit piped in, summing up everyone's thoughts. "Uh-oh."

Astrid Hofferson groaned as she massaged her stiff back. Being a paramedic had its benefits, but after a sixteen hour shift, she wasn't seeing them all that well. She punched out, hanging up her uniform and exiting the building.

She sighed happily as she sunk into the seat of her car, turning on the engine. But instead of her favorite radio station, there was somebody talking. She growled in annoyance, but turned up the volume to listen.

"If you're just joining us, you're in for a nasty surprise. It appears a plane has crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center. No reports on the cause yet. Our reporter is currently trying to get an interview with one of the firemen, but...Wait a minute-OH MY GOD! ANOTHER PLANE HAS HIT THE SOUTH TOWER!"

Astrid was out of her car before the reporter had finished his sentence. She ran back into the building, past the receptionists staring at the chaos on the television. She didn't even bother punching back in, only slowing to grab her shirt from her locker. She arrived in the bay just as the first ambulance left.

"Hofferson! Glad you're here! You're taking 1816! We've been told to get every ambulance we have out there!"

She nodded, scrambling in the driver's seat with Carl in the passenger. Turning the key, she listened to the engine sputter.

"Damn it! Come on, you heap of junk!"

She turned the key again, pressing on the accelerator. The engine sputtered again, then roared to life. She waved to her boss as she steered the wailing vehicle out the doors. With a roar of the V-8 diesel, she was off to do her job.

The Fire Chiefs had moved the Command Post in the Lobby of the North Tower to West Street, and the lobby was now the Operations Post for Tower One. A unit was sent up to battle the blaze and evacuate and rescue as many people as possible.

Hiccup stared at the chaos in the lobby. People were pouring down the stairs, confused and scared. Many demanded to know what had happened. The firefighters had no knowledge. Chief Stoick and his unit were told to climb evacuate the floors, and rescue as many people as possible.

"Come on, men!" Stoick called. "We've got a fire to fight!"

They cheered as they started the ninety-three story climb.

Today was not a good day for Astrid. She had just finished a sixteen-hour shift, only to be back on the job for what no doubt would be an operation that would last days. Somehow, she was still going, likely from the six-ish cups of coffee she had drunk, but she didn't know how much longer she could last. She was going to need a lot of coffee, she decided.

The two-tone alert sound came on. Astrid's ears perked up, trying to listen to the static-y message. Carl leaned over to turn up the volume.

"All units responding to the signal 10-40. You are to respond to your staging. West Street to Vesey Street. West to Vesey, north of Vesey, and 85 with the staging officer at this time. Time is 9:12 hours. No further communications over the citywide frequency unless you have a priority message."

Astrid spun the steering wheel, turning onto the new route.

They had taken the only working elevator as high as it would go, the sixteenth floor. After methodically checking each floor for anyone straggling behind, they would move on. Now the firefighters reached the twenty-second floor, where an explosion had left small fires. Hiccup was putting out a fire in the break lounge when he heard crying. He went to see who it was, and was surprised to see a four-year-old huddled underneath a chair.

"Hey, what are you doing up here?" he asked, as kindly as he could.

"M-my Da-Daddy said t-t-to w-wait an-and he'd b-b-be ba-back." the young child sobbed.

"Alright, well you'd better come with me. Here, I gotcha."

Hiccup bent down and picked up the child, calling for his dad.

"Chief?"

"What is it?" Stoick asked tiredly.

"I've got a kid that was missed. Instructions?"

The Chief sighed. "Take him downstairs, and report to the next Battalion Chief."

The young child sobbed into Hiccup's coat.

"Hey, it's alright now. We're going to find your daddy and get you home, okay?"

"O-okay." he sniffled.

"New York Downtown 1816! I need your unit to respond to the triage areas! You need to get as many people out of there and to the hospital as you can! Downtown is closer, but if you can make it to St. Vincent's or Beth Israel, they're better equipped for them. Now GO!"

"Yes Sir!" Astrid hollered, already running back to her ambulance. She had people to save.

It became a jumble after that. The rules were thrown out the window, and the paramedics improvised as best they could. Astrid was getting as many people as she could in the bay, and she had to take them to Downtown because the roads everywhere else were blocked.

The hospital was packed. Masses upon hordes of people had descended upon the small community clinic, both patients and volunteers alike.

A nurse in pediatric scrubs helped her get the critical patients on stretchers, and Astrid and Carl headed back to Ground Zero.

Hiccup reached the lobby, waving at a firefighter he knew. He saw Father Judge pacing the floor, and nodded to him. The man didn't seem to notice.

He got out of the building just as the second tower started to collapse. He looked up, saw the falling debris, and ran. He had never run this fast in his life. He ran for his life, but most of all, he ran for the life of the helpless child in his arms.

Astrid saw the tower coming down, and opened up the door to hide in her ambulance. The heavy truck would at least protect her from some injuries. Carl was nowhere to be seen, but she saw a young firefighter with a child in his arms running toward her.

"Get in!" she bellowed.

He did so. She slammed the door shut just as the debris cloud impacted. Bits of concrete and metal bounced off the ambulance. Suddenly, the vehicle was thrown like a toy. The windows in the cab shattered, and thick, acrid dust poured in. Something hit the side, throwing it the other way.

The occupants were thrown around like children's toys. Hiccup, having wrapped his arms around the paramedic and the child, bore the brunt of it. His head bounced off a cabinet, knocking his helmet off and making his head throb. Boxes of things rained down as they were dislodged from their cabinets.

Astrid saw a box of masks that had been knocked to the floor along with the other supplies. She grabbed some, handing them out to her companions and pulling one over her face.

They stayed huddled on the floor, the two adults hushed while the child cried on Hiccup. The chaos outside faded, leaving behind a deafening silence. The paramedic cautiously got up, looking around. Medical supplies lay scattered all over the ground. She tried to open the side door, but it was so bent in its frame that it wouldn't budge.

Astrid tried the back doors next. They wouldn't open either. She shouldered the door, and something shifted enough for the door to open a little, but it was blocked by something. The only other exit was the window between the cab and the medical bay, which was too small for the adults to fit through.

The young firefighter sat on the floor with the child wrapped in his arms, his face shocked. Forest green eyes met hers, and a silent conversation passed between them. He was alright.

She then turned her attention to the child in his arms.

"What's your name, kiddo?"

"Sa-Samual Ca-Camp-Campbell."

"Alright, Sam, does anything hurt?"

The young boy shook his head, rubbing at his eyes.

"Don't rub at your eyes, honey, you'll irritate them with this dust."

She turned to the firefighter. "Hey, do you have a radio?"

Hiccup handed her the one on his coat, moving his arm so the cord was longer.

"What's your name and unit?" she asked.

"Hiccup Haddock. Engine 13."

"Astrid Hofferson, EMS 1816 from Downtown."

She shook his hand as she introduced herself, sitting down next to them as she called in to dispatch.

"EMS 1816 to Manhattan."

"1816, go."

"I am-"

A voice interrupted.

"Can anybody hear me?"

Dispatch answered back.

"Go ahead."

"I'm a civilian. I'm trapped inside one of your fire trucks underneath [the bridge?]."

"Standby, there's people close to you."

"I can't breathe much longer. Save me! I'm in the cab of your truck."

"Transmitting a mayday. Where are you, K."

"I just told you. It's north of the World Trade Center. There's the north pedestrian bridge. I think it collapsed when the partial building just collapsed. I was on the street, I don't have much air. Please, help me!"

"Oh, God." Hiccup said in horror.

Someone said they were going to look for her, and the person begged for help again. Dispatch gave her instructions to clear the air and stay calm, and Astrid decided now was a good time to try again.

"EMS 1816 to Manhattan."

"EMS 1816, go."

"I'm a paramedic from Downtown. I'm stuck in my ambulance about a block south of the WTC with a firefighter from Engine 13 and a child. We have masks for dust, but we are trapped."

"We'll try and send someone over, but you are not priority. Hang tight."

Astrid sighed, slumping against the door. "Looks like we'll be here a while." she grumbled.

Just as the sunlight started to filter through the dust, the ground started to rumble again. Hiccup's radio suddenly exploded in chatter and static, but one phrase seemed to be repeated over and over.

"TOWER ONE IS COMING DOWN!"

Astrid and Hiccup dove down, hugging the child tight between them. More dust blasted through the shattered cab, and bits of pulverized metal and concrete ricocheted off the metal sides. Then, larger chunks started to hit. With loud thunks they slammed into the ambulance, punching dents in it.

There was a crunch of steel and glass and the flash of blue lights as an emergency vehicle was thrown at them, and then whipped away just as quickly.

Finally, the ambulance rolled to a stop. Astrid got carefully to her feet, asking her comrades if they had been hurt. Hiccup had hit his head, and Samuel was sporting a split lip. She herself had gotten a bloody nose.

She heard a foomp and turned, terror flooding her body at the sight of a fire igniting in the cab of the vehicle.

"Damn it!" she swore.

Hiccup looked up at her blearily. "What is it?"

Slamming the flimsy plastic cover shut, she turned to him.

"The cab's on fire. We've got to get out of here."

His face became a mask of determination.

The side door had only become more jammed, but the back doors might be able to open now. He tried them. They didn't open.

"Here, move for a minute." Astrid said, grabbing an oxygen bottle.

She smashed the window on the door out, using the flashlight to peer into the thick dust. She saw nothing outside the door.

"Here, give me a hand. The door's just jammed." she told him.

They shouldered the door. It bent a little. They shouldered it again. The lock cracked loudly. The flames had spread in the cab. Smoke was starting to leak into their refuge.

They shouldered the door a third time. This time, it gave way. Astrid grabbed Samuel in her arms. Hiccup staggered out of the vehicle, clutching his head.

"What's wrong?" she demanded.

"Dizzy spell." he gasped back.

She pursed her lips. Shifting the child onto one arm, she wrapped her other one around his shoulders. He laid his across her shoulders, leaning heavily on her as he struggled to stand.

Together, the stumbled away from the burning vehicle. They couldn't see where they were going. All they knew was they had to get out of there.

Sixteen Years Later

Astrid and Hiccup stood at ground zero, reading the names on the memorial. One in particular stood out to Hiccup every time he came here.

Stoick Haddock

He, along with three-thousand others, had died on that fateful day, so long ago. Many things had changed since then. Hiccup was still on the Fire Department, and had ascended to Fire Chief in his father's absence.

Eight hospital paramedics died that day. Astrid Hofferson was not one of them, but her colleague Carl was. She was now a doctor at Beth-Israel, but still volunteered as a paramedic. She and Hiccup had gotten married ten years ago, him in his fire equipment and her in her paramedic's uniform.

Samuel Campbell returned to his worried mother soon after the chaos cleared a little, but his father did not. He kept his saviours close to his heart. He told them he planned on working to save lives, just as they had done for him.

But every year, on that day, the three of them held their own personal memorial. For Stoick, for Sam's father, and for Carl, and for everyone else. But most of all, to never forget that fateful day.

This story is written in memoriam of all those who died that day, and dedicated to all those that made all the difference, whether big or small. It is dedicated to the medical professionals that saved lives, to the fire brigades that sacrificed their lives to save others, to the political leaders that saw a nightmare unfold and did their best to fix it, and to every person that helped, in both small ways, and large ways.

But most of all, it is dedicated to the citizens of this great nation, who came together to help one another. On September 11th, 2001, we rose up as a nation to support one another, regardless of ethnicity, religion, politics, or anything else.

So thank you, to every one of you. God Bless America.