Disclaimer: Not mine! All the characters you recognize belong to JE, I'm just playing. While this is an AU story, it has the potential to possibly spoil or mention something from any of the books 1-18.

Author's Note: This chapter deals with a very sensitive topic, one that I haven't ever seen mentioned in fan fiction. I apologize in advance if I am incorrect with any details; I'm doing my best to make sure my facts are correct—with Anita's help. Most of my details are pulled from Wikipedia and various other sites reporting the events of that fateful day. Tissues may be needed.

I cannot believe I have more than 650 reviews. I am beyond words. Thank you all so very much! If I didn't get to personally thank you for your review this week, please forgive me. Real life has made it a little crazy around here!

Anita (FanFictionAficionado), I know I thank you daily, but really…YOU'RE THE BEST! Thanks for everything.

Previously:

As I caught my breath, he whispered, "I love you, Stephanie. More than I thought possible. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you." I stopped his words with a forceful kiss of my own, which he deepened before turning me onto my back and positioning his length at my center, slowly guiding himself inside. I was still tight, and he hissed as he sheathed himself fully, pulling a moan of pleasure from me. Cupping his face in my hands, I pulled him back to me for a passionate kiss, which I hoped conveyed everything I was feeling. We moved slowly together for what felt like hours before we both climaxed. Carlos fell onto me and then quickly rolled, pulling me with him. Still joined physically, we lay there for several long minutes, knowing that our brief respite from reality would soon be over.

Ch. 37

Stephanie's POV

Neither Carlos nor I slept that night. We spent the time in each other's arms, holding on for dear life and being thankful that we had each other. I went out to the kitchen once, for a drink of water, and noticed Bobby still sitting in the dark living room. It appeared he hadn't slept either.

We gave up trying to sleep around six, and ambled out to the kitchen to find something to eat. Bridget was standing over the stove cooking eggs, and toast had just popped up. "Morning, guys. Hungry?"

Is it awful that I hadn't noticed her coming in last night? I wasn't even sure if she left Abuela's house before or after us.

"I'm not very hungry," I answered. I was desperate for an update on Dad, and my patience was barely holding out. I couldn't imagine what Bobby was feeling this morning.

"You should eat, Steph," Bobby said as he munched on a piece of toast. I nodded reluctantly and joined him and Carlos at the table.

"Do you think they'll have classes today?" Bridget asked, as she sat the skillet of eggs on the hot pad on the table.

Passing plates around, Carlos said, "I would imagine so, though I wonder how many people will actually show."

"I'm not going," Bobby said, keeping his head down as he continued to eat his toast.

"I don't think they'll hold it against you, Bobby. Have you heard from anyone yet this morning?"

Bobby shook his head no but didn't say anything. The rest of the breakfast passed in uncomfortable silence. Since I hadn't eaten much, I decided it would be safe to go for a run. Ducking into the bedroom to change, I was so lost in thought I didn't realize Carlos had followed me. When he placed his hand on my shoulder I let out a shriek and jumped.

"Jesus! Make some noise, wouldja?"

"Sorry, Babe. Ok if I run with you?"

"Of course," I said, giving him a quick kiss before stepping into my running shorts. As we walked through the living room, I noticed Bobby had returned to his vigil in front of CNN, his phone clutched in his hand.

We ran a little farther and a little harder than usual. I guess we both had some nervous energy that we needed to burn off. Jogging back to the apartment, I found myself praying that I would hear from my mom soon.

Helen's POV

Frank's alive. Thank you God! I could barely breathe as Joseph drove us to St. Michael's Medical Center in Newark. Stephanie had said Frank couldn't hear, but that aside from a gash on his head, he was otherwise fine. HE WAS ALIVE! I didn't care if he never heard me nagging him again, and if he did regain his hearing, I promised myself I would bicker with him less.

Tapping my toe against the floorboard, I felt like I was developing a nervous tic with the number of times I glanced at the speedometer. Surely as a cop, Joseph could get away with driving a little faster? Didn't his car have a light and siren?

An hour and a half later, we finally arrived at the hospital. I barely waited until Joseph stopped the car before I jumped out and rushed into the ER. Making my way to the counter, I felt a lump forming in my throat, and had to clear it three times before I was finally able to ask for Frank Plum's room. The woman clicked something on her computer and without emotion said "Room 203". She never even glanced at me. My my, such poor manners. If I wasn't in such a hurry to see my husband, I probably would have called her on them.

Bypassing the elevator, I rushed up the stairs to the second floor. When I barreled out of the staircase, I noticed Ricardo and Mari standing outside a room. Without even realizing I had moved, I was suddenly in front of them, asking "Is Frank ok? I thought you were with him. What's happened?"

"Calm down, Helen. Frank is fine. The doctor asked us to step out briefly while he examined him; he's only been in there a few minutes."

"Well, I'm not waiting," I said as I rushed into his room. Seeing Frank lying in the bed, somewhat ashen-looking from the debris of the city's devastation still caked in his hair, took my breath away.

Without saying a word, I walked directly to the bed and took his hand, kissing the back of it before I sat down and turned my attention to the doctor. He had stopped talking when I walked in, but didn't even hint that I should leave. Good thing!

"Mrs. Plum, I presume?" the doctor asked me. I nodded and he continued, "I'm Dr. Martin. I was just explaining your husband's condition to him."

I glanced at Frank and noticed him looking back and forth between the doctor and me. "And how were you explaining it to him? He can't hear, correct?"

"No ma'am, his hearing hasn't returned. My assistant has been writing some of the key points on this whiteboard," he said pointing to his assistant and the board in her hand. It had things like "post-concussion syndrome", "shell shock", "hearing may or may not return". It was basic, but it really didn't tell me much.

"Why don't you explain it to me, and I'll find a way to make sure Frank understands?" With a nod the doctor rattled off facts about post-concussion syndrome, commonly called "shell shock". I remembered Frank talking about an old Army buddy getting shell shock in 'Nam and not being able to hear for several months. He had mentioned it on one of our family vacations with Mother and Daddy—he said it would have come in handy at the time. I noticed a slight grin on Frank's face, and figured he was remembering the same thing.

The doctor went on to explain that the debris that hit Frank as the towers collapsed had caused a concussion. He classified it as "mid-level" or "moderate" and said that the hearing loss could be a result of that. He explained that Frank might have other symptoms as well, including headache, difficulty concentrating, and irritability.

Hmm, that reminded me of Frank after spending time with my parents. I knew how to deal with him after too much exposure to the in-laws. I wondered if the same treatment would help here, but doubted he'd been cleared for sex. Dr. Martin cleared his throat, and with a mumbled "Sorry" I refocused on him.

"We would like to keep your husband overnight for observation. Because of the concussion, we can't allow him to fall asleep for at least four more hours, and then after that, we need to wake him every two hours to make sure he's not getting worse. We'd like to run a few more tests tomorrow, and if everything checks out, we should be able to release him tomorrow evening. Any questions?"

"No. Thank you, Doctor." I turned my attention to my husband and the doctor took that as his clue to leave. As I stared at Frank, taking in every inch of his face, there was a light knock on the door and Ricardo and Mari came back into the room, followed by Joseph and Valerie.

"Everything ok, Helen?"

"Ricardo, thank you so much for bringing him here and taking care of him until I could get here. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"No price for family, dear. Your Stephanie is a part of our family, which makes you and Frank family as well."

"Thank you," I whispered around the newly formed lump in my throat.

"We do need to be going, however. Mari has had a long day and I'm sure Maria is anxious to see us. Please let us know if there's anything else we can do for you."

"I will, Ricardo, thank you." And then I did something I rarely did: I stood and gave him a firm hug. If he was surprised, he didn't show it—he just squeezed me tight before letting go, and after giving Frank a quick handshake, he and Mari left.

By then, Val had ventured around to the other side of Frank's bed, and leaned in to kiss his cheek before taking his hand in hers. "What did the doctor say, Mom?"

"He's going to be fine. His hearing may or may not come back, but we'll deal with that later."

Val didn't ask any more questions, she just sat and stared at Frank. Joe had moved behind her and kept his hands on her shoulders in support. I couldn't help but glance at them and think what a beautiful couple they made. I secretly hoped things would work out with them, but when Frank shifted in the bed, thoughts of more grandchildren were quickly forgotten…well, at least for the time being.

After visiting awhile, Valerie reluctantly said, "I'm sorry Mom, but I need to get back to the baby."

"Of course. Go. I'll call you when I need someone to come and get us. Will you stay with Val and the baby tonight, Joseph?"

"Yes ma'am. I'd be happy to."

With kisses and hugs goodbye, they left. When we were alone, I took the pad of paper from the end of the bed and wrote to Frank, "I almost lost you."

"But you didn't."

"I wouldn't survive without you."

"You would, but you don't have to think about it right now."

"Do you know how scared I was?"

"Probably as scared as I was that I wasn't going to ever see you or our girls again."

Tears were pouring down my cheeks as I wrote, "I love you, Frank."

"I love you more, sweetheart."

Unable to hold my head up any longer, I laid it on the bed and cried. I cried tears of joy that my husband had survived, and tears of sadness for those who still didn't know the fate of their loved ones. As I cried, Frank ran his hands through my hair, offering comfort through his touch and his whispered, "Shh…"

When the tears finally stopped, I stood and took his face in my hands and kissed him. I poured every ounce of love I had for this man into that kiss, hoping he had even a vague sense of the depths of that love. Frank seemed to understand—he smiled and said, "I know, Helen, I know."

I sat back down and picked up the pad again. "You have to stay overnight."

"I figured." Scooting over, he patted the bed beside him and said, "Climb in." I hesitated before he added, "I haven't spent a night without my wife in my bed yet, and I don't plan on starting now."

After I climbed in beside him, I wrote, "The last time we shared a hospital bed was when Stephanie was born."

"Yeah, and Nurse Hatchet tried to kick me out."

"And you gave her your blank face until she backed down," I wrote as I giggled.

Frank wrapped his arm tighter around me and I leaned into him, as I fought off the tears that threatened to resurface.

Slowly, haltingly, Frank told me what had happened to him that day, ending with Ricardo finding him at the Newark police station. Then he paused, seeming to reflect on the enormity of the day's events and how lucky he had been. "It was awful, Helen. So many people didn't get out. The stairs were still fairly full behind us."

"At least Jack made it!" I wrote.

"Yes. But Rick Rescorla didn't. He was a platoon leader from 'Nam and head of security for Morgan Stanley. He refused to leave the building until he got everyone out."

"Sounds like a hero," I wrote.

"In more ways than one."

After a few moments of silence, I wrote, "Are you ok?"

"It brought back memories of 'Nam, lots of them, but I'm ok. I have you and our girls and that beautiful grandbaby of ours. I'll be fine. I'm damned lucky."

"I'm lucky," I wrote and leaned further into him. We held each other for hours as nurses popped in and out. Fortunately, no one tried to get me to move. It would have been pointless anyway, but at least it wasn't a battle that we had to fight. It was the middle of the night when Frank was finally given permission to sleep, and as his breath evened out and I could feel the slow rising and falling of his chest, I relaxed enough to join him.

XXXXXXXXX

It was mid-morning before I allowed myself to leave Frank's side for longer than a quick trip to the bathroom—and then only because they took him to run tests. I found a payphone in the hallway and dialed Stephanie first, as I knew she would be anxiously awaiting news.

"Hello?" a man answered.

"Hello, is Stephanie there?" I had dialed the apartment, and knew that she lived with a few boys—much to my dislike—but I was still slightly surprised at the male voice on the other end of the line.

I heard a heavy sigh before a slight rustling and then, "Mom?"

"Hello Stephanie, it's your mother."

"How's Daddy?"

"He's going to be fine. He has a concussion, and he hasn't regained his hearing yet, but the doctor said there was a good possibility it will return. They're running some tests now, and hopefully we'll get to go home tonight. That's really all I know at this point."

I heard her sigh. "I'm so glad you're with him. How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, dear. I'm just so relieved that he's alive!"

"Me too. Tell Daddy I love him, and call me if you find out anything new."

"I will. Bye, Stephanie."

"Bye, Mom. I love you."

I hung up. Why didn't I say "I love you" back to her? With a sigh, I headed back to Frank's room to think about that while I waited for him.

Stephanie's POV

She hung up. I said, "I love you," and she hung up. Maria and Ricardo tell me they love me every time they talk to me, and they aren't even my actual parents. We almost lost Daddy, and my own mother didn't return the "I love you" before she hung up. What is wrong with me that she can't tell me she loves me?

"Babe?"

"Hmm?"

"Everything ok?"

"Yes. He has a concussion and they're running tests, but Mom said the doctor was hopeful that his hearing would return."

"That's great, Babe. But why do you have that look on your face?"

"What look?"

"You look…broken?"

"I am broken, Carlos."

He wrapped me in his arms as he soothed me. "You aren't broken, Babe."

"But I am. You should run for the hills."

"Hey! I love you. Every piece of you. Whole, broken, it doesn't matter to me. I love you."

"I love you too, Carlos."

XXXXXXXXX

The evening of the twelfth, the University held a candlelight ceremony, organized by the fraternities and sororities. Bridget and I went to three different dollar stores and bought all their taper candles for everyone to hold.

The guys from Les's old frat, SAE, borrowed the huge American flag from the football field and draped it from the top of a building near the large grassy area where everyone would stand. Carlos had offered to help the guys set up, so we told him we'd meet him there. Large speakers were playing patriotic music softly when Bridget and I arrived. Bobby was there already, though he sat to the side, completely withdrawn.

Bobby still seemed to be in shock. One of his uncle's co-workers said he'd seen Tommy getting on the elevator about three minutes before the plane hit the South Tower. So either he was still in the elevator when it hit, and never escaped, or he made it to his office, just a few floors above impact. The reality was, he didn't make it out.

As awful as it was, I prayed he died quickly. I wouldn't want to picture someone I loved suffering, or being one of the ones desperate enough to end it by jumping. I knew the entire country was horrified by the attack and the loss of life, but knowing someone who had lost a loved one somehow made it so much more devastating.

The candlelight ceremony was beautiful. Carlos and I stood with Bobby between us, as the local Methodist minister prayed from the steps of the Agriculture building. We could hear people crying softly around us, and whispering "Amen" as the pastor asked for peace for the families who lost someone. Bobby, Carlos, and I were all crying, as was Bridget, who was standing nearby with her Kappa sisters. She had confided in me that she was scared for Les. What did this mean for him? Would we wind up going to war? And judging by Bobby's reaction, I was worried about what it might mean for him too.

Three weeks later…

The last two weeks had been nearly unbearable. Bobby drove to New York for his uncle's funeral: he definitely wasn't ready to get on an airplane. Like so many other families, they buried an empty casket because there was little chance his uncle's remains would ever be recovered. When he came back, he was different. Carlos and I asked him numerous times if he was ok, but the response was always the same: "Fine." I tried to ask how his Aunt Chelsea was handling things, but he shut me down and left the room every time.

The basketball season had started. We hoped it would help to distract him, get his mind off of his loss a little, but it didn't. And things weren't looking good for his basketball career. Basically…Bobby was angry. And he took it out on the other teams, fouling out in the first half of the first three games.

His coach talked to him about pulling back a little but he didn't listen, and after fouling out of another game, he was put on suspension. He didn't seem to care and spent a lot of time in his room, barely going to class. I was worried about him and so was Carlos, but we didn't know what we could do to help.

On Saturday, Carlos and I spent the day together. We drove to the beach and went for a long walk, grabbing lunch at a café near the boardwalk. There were quite a few people milling around, but it felt like it was just us. We talked about our families. Celia got engaged last week, to her Princeton boyfriend. She would be finishing her undergraduate degree soon and then going on to medical school.

Dad still hadn't regained his hearing, but otherwise, he was fine. Valerie and Joe had become much closer and were discussing dating. Val was getting some help from an attorney at her office, a man named Kloughn. He had served Steve with divorce papers and a notification that Val would be filing for termination of his parental rights. It had been over a week and Steve hadn't responded yet, but Val was hoping he wouldn't fight.

Carlos held me tight against him as we walked back to the car from lunch, whispering in my ear how much he loved me and how he would show me just how much when we got home. He drove quickly, with my hand slowly rubbing up and down his thigh. We rushed into the apartment and stopped cold when we saw Bobby standing in the hallway with his bags in his hands.

"Bobby?"

"Hey guys. I joined the Army."

TBC…

Author's Note: I would love to know your thoughts on this chapter. I posted this early – instead of making you wait until Wednesday, as I am on vacation for the next two weeks, visiting my family in Kentucky. I will only be posting once a week until after July 4th.