Word Count:500
Pairings: None
Warnings: Historic references, may or may not be accurate
Memories
Alfred knew the moment he woke up what day it was. Although snow was steadily falling outside, he changed into workout clothes and went out. He knew where he would end up on the mall, which was more populated than it would normally be on a winter morning.
He stopped in the middle of the pillars and looked around at the men and women wandering around the monument. Some of them were old, and Alfred just knew they had been soldiers in the war. Others were younger, and he could overhear the stories of heroic parents and grandparents being told to their children. Alfred stood watching them, horrifying memories flashing back to him.
An elderly man soon approached him, leaning heavily on a cane. Alfred stared at him for a moment, knowing he should know exactly who the man was but finding he was unable to put a name to the face.
"Alfred F. Jones," he said.
The blonde stiffened, regarding the man with wide eyes.
"Are you related to a man named Alfred Jones?" the man questioned.
"I'm…his grandson," Alfred lied.
The man patted his shoulder. "He was a brave one. I'm sorry you never met him."
"Thank you," Alfred whispered. "How…did you know him?"
"We were stationed at Pearl Harbor all those years ago." The man paused to smile. The only reason I'm alive today is because of him. It was 'cause of him I met my wife, you know. Beautiful nurse, she took care of me in the war, thought she was an angel…"
Benjamin Smith, Alfred realized. From New York City. He was nineteen with Alfred at Pearl Harbor. The first person Alfred pulled from the wreckage.
"Grandfather?" a young man called.
"Over here, Jake!" the man called.
A young man slowly approached them, becoming alert when he noticed Alfred.
"Captain Jones," he said. "I hope my grandfather was not bothering you."
Alfred smiled. "Of course not. It's good to see you did well for yourself Sergeant Smith."
"Captain?"
"I'm in the air force," Alfred quickly explained. "I met your grandson when he was in basic training."
"You're a pilot then like your grandfather?"
With a small laugh, Alfred nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Good to hear, son! The finest young men in this country are the ones defending it!"
"Grandfather, the ceremony will be starting soon," Peter said.
The old man nodded his head. "I know that, Jake." He glanced back at Alfred. "Young man, you are the spitting image of your grandfather. If I didn't know better I'd say you were him."
"I get that a lot," Alfred said. "It was nice to see you again, Benjamin."
Before the old man could question his words, Alfred jogged off. He stood from afar watching the remaining survivors gather to honor the lost souls. Alfred has seen many things throughout his centuries as a nation, but he would never forget the day he was attacked or the citizens who died. Nor would he forget the ones who survived.
