FANG:
They'd bombed the street neighbouring to Earl, and so when I had opened the door the scene that greeted me was a bizarre chaotic mess. The oak trees still stood, yet some owned great wounds in their trunks, courtesy of shrapnel or brick. Almost all of the houses on my street were untouched, and every resident of them was out in the rubble, finding others, bringing them to safety as the sun shone brightly over it all.
A few police and fire fighters were helping, but I knew that there were many elsewhere in the city, all desperately trying to save as many as they could, whilst being shorthanded. I grabbed the nearest officer. "Excuse me, do you know Officer Lightning?"
The tall man looked me over, before deciding to introduce himself; "Officer Snow. I work with Lightning at the station, is she alright Miss…?"
"Fang, please. She's fine. I came to tell you that I'm looking after her, I patched her up after the bombs hit. She was hit with something pretty sharp in the ribs. She's had stitches but she needs to take it easy."
"I'll let the boss know, but just so you're aware, Lightning isn't very good at taking things easy as such. She's an all-in kind of woman. She'll want to be back at work."
"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks." I turned around to find myself face-to-face with a smaller version of the woman who was in my darkroom at present. Though this girl was filthy, having clearly been raking the rubble for the past few hours. Her face held a multitude of expressions; worry, exhaustion, relief and fury. It was particularly entertaining to watch.
"You must be Serah," I held out a hand, "I was just coming to find you at your home. About your sister-"
"Thank you." Serah threw her arms around me. "I heard you speaking with Snow. I've been out here ever since the sirens stopped, looking for her. I thought I'd lost her." the young woman stepped back.
"You're welcome. Would you like to see her?"
"Very much so."
We started back towards the house. Serah tensed when she realised just how close to the rubble I lived.
"We were safe. My house is untouched. "
"Lucky."
"Very." I pushed open the gate to let her in first. She hesitated, looking to me, uncertain about something. "What is it?"
"We weren't so lucky, that's all. The house... If you'd have seen it." Serah trailed off. Understanding dawned on me, and for the first time I noticed the battered leather suitcase in her grip.
"I'm sorry Serah. I really am." I couldn't imagine what she'd seen last night. "Was there anything left...?"
She gestured to the suitcase weakly. "You're looking at it." Serah looked as though she was about to cry, "I don't know how I'll tell Claire. "
I put a hand on her shoulder, "Tell her like you do everything else." She looks so young. I don't even know how old she is.
"Yes. I guess I will. Is it bad? Claire I mean?"
"Nothing that she can't get better from." I nodded to the house, "Let's get you inside."
I sat in the kitchen, listening to the quiet rise and fall of the two sisters voices from the living room. I had helped Claire up the stairs, after she'd insisted to see Serah in a light other than the darkroom. "Besides," she'd said, "I haven't even seen the rest of your house."
"There's nothing left Claire - nothing. It's as though Heaven Street never existed. I don't even know what we'll do. We have nowhere to live."
"The most important thing is that we're both alive and together. There are so many others who won't even have that. We'll figure something out."
Mog meowed at me, headbutting my palm. You have room, here. Enough so that you can help. It was true, I had both the spare bedroom and my room. Plus the darkroom... It was an easy decision to make. I never had been one to turn away someone in need - a quality which had incensed my mother growing up. I'd come home with all manner of creatures in hand; a bird with a broken wing, a stray kitten - who just so happened was allowed to stay - and once, an injured vixen, who'd lashed out at anyone and everything, except me.
They were sat on the sofa when I entered, Serah had fallen asleep on her big sister, who was bearing the pressure of her quite nobly, even though it would cause her pain. I went over and lifted the younger woman so that Claire could slide out, placing her gently down afterward.
The officer looked a little unsure of herself, stood leaning against the fireplace in a borrowed shirt, clutching an arm around her ribs, as though if she held herself tight enough nothing else could fall apart.
I bent down next to her to tend to the fire, fanning the flames.
"I am not easily frightened. I never have been - a part of me welcomed this war when it started, with the freedom it brought to women like you and I. It never occurred to me that the chaos would be in our backyard, here, when I signed up for the Police. I was so enamoured with the independence of it all, you know?"
"I do."I stood, and we were inches away. Understanding passed between us.
Claire turned to the small figure curled up on the blue patterned cushions. "But now... Now I'm ashamed to say that I'm scared. I can't lose Serah."
"You won't. You'll be fine."
"We've lost our home Fang. We don't have anywhere to go."
"So stay." Claire looked at me in surprise, her mouth a small "o". I rushed the words out; "I have more than enough room here. Enough beds -" she raised her eyebrow slightly at this "- so that you'll both be comfortable. You can't go back to work yet anyway, it's a good solution -" a brief finger on my lips shushed me.
"Thank you, it is. And it is very kind of you. We will, of course, contribute to the household whilst we stay."
"Of course." Warmth spread across my body, and it took a moment to realise what it was. I won't be here alone. The thought surprised me, but it came to me that there was a reason I spent the majority of my time in the darkroom, with ink stained fingertips and my gramophone playing jazz. I couldn't count the nights that I'd spent losing time and sleep whilst developing my art, in the haste to forget that it was just me. I smiled and found it mirrored in Claire's face, the fire flickering in her eyes, bathing her pale skin a light gold.
"Can I ask why?"
"Why what?"
"Why you would do something like this, for almost perfect strangers? It is just an incredibly rare kindness."
I thought of the lost and injured animals I'd looked after as a child, of Mog as a tiny mewling scrap of an animal, barely able to fill the space of my palm. "I guess I just have a soft spot for strays."
