Author's Note: Ah! I've been at camp for a while, so here's the long-awaited update!

No Words Here

Chapter Seven: Pools of Sorrow, Waves of Joy

"If he dies, all that is life to me will die with him."

—Ivy Walker, 'The Village'

"Tessa, get off of the phone! NOW!"

Laura's yelling echoed throughout the Victorian home that was a Chapman heirloom. Or rather, a Vreeland heirloom, her mother's side. Dusty plaster sprinkled from the ceiling of the attic, but it rarely bothered Laura. It happened often from living up here.

"Do you understand the meaning of no?" Laura questioned venomously.

"Jesus, Laura," Tessa replied, one leg resting on the wooden incline of the house, near her bed. The ten-year-old often managed to exceed her years with her attitude. People frequently guessed she to be twelve or even thirteen, but not the immature, preteen age of ten. "Will you shut up? I'm talking to Kyra."

"I don't care if you're talking to Tobey Maguire!" Laura snapped. "Phone! Now!"

"Jeez," Tessa glared, speaking into the phone. "My psycho sister needs to use the phone," the girl informed Kyra on the other line. "Talk to you later. Buh-bye!" there were long pauses in-between the sentences, then she proceeded to hang up. "I'm telling Mom… why do you need to use the phone anyway?" she grinned suddenly. "It's Sam, right?" Tessa emphasized the use of 'Sam'.

"No, it's not." Laura lied. She was God-awful at lying.

"Yeah it is."

The elder sister became deflated. "Yes," she agreed reluctantly.

"C'mon Lor," Tessa began, using Laura's childhood nickname of 'Lor'. As an infant, Tessa wasn't great of pronouncing, so hence 'Lor' instead of 'Laura'. "When are you going to tell him?"

"Not now," Laura answered immediately, staring at her suitcase still propped open, otherwise ready to go to New York City.

The door downstairs was knocked upon. "I'll get it," the naturally sickeningly pale ten-year-old announced dully, flying down the stairs. "Probably the UPS guy." She muttered.

Moments later, Laura's ears picked up the sound of a screech. Tessa didn't screech, much less for the UPS delivery boy. Oddly, the next sound she perceived was four feet ascending the narrow stairwell.

Sam was standing with Tessa. Holy crap. Was she dreaming? Sam Hall? In her room?

Yes, yes… the study secession…

"So, Sam, guess I should leave you two alone." Tessa grinned, winking quickly at Laura, as if the pair were commencing to make out. Sam smiled slyly. Being an only child, he appreciated the novelty of Tessa.

"Tess, don't forget to check your blood sugar before you go soccer practice!" Laura called after her in a motherly way. Tessa had a much more mild version of juvenile diabetes than most of the kids who had it. The girl rolled her eyes in response, mouthing 'Good luck'.

This was one of the times Tessa acted like a thirteen-year-old rather than a little girl a decade old. Did all of those tests and blood sugar checks make her mature into some philosophical, wise-beyond-her-years preteen?

Laura knew she had awakened when the pain and faded images began to arrive and the significant memories surrounding her sister and warmth had left. She wanted to sob, but the strength had completely left her body. For a moment, she prayed for death to come, but interrupted her own prayer. She felt guilty for two reasons. One, she didn't want to die. She didn't want to leave him; to leave and not even really begin. Two, Laura wondered if God would listen to girl-who-occasionally-prays-only-when-she-wants-something. Maybe He would, but still…

She used the loose, aching muscles attached to her neck to search for Sam. He was still sleeping, and from what it looked, night was about to begin. It probably had only been hours, but it had seemed like years since she had awakened. She wanted Sam closer to her. She wanted Tessa back. She wanted Mommy.

Laura would have wiped away the single tear that fell to the scorched, dead ground, but her bloody arms hadn't any motivation. Instead, she mouthed two words.

"Help me…"

"I assume you are Mrs. … ?"

"Ms.," J.D.'s mother corrected as if it was nothing. "Rachel Summers."

"Oh," the officer responded quietly, a bit of red developing on his rounded cheeks. "Well, follow me." He commanded lightly.

J.D. and his mother had arrived at this place by helicopter a few minutes before. It was an expansive military base near Brownsville, Texas, still intact despite the epic disasters' occurrences. The pair were currently in the east wing, where most of the rescued with no families remnant from the storms or were from Canada or Alaska were housed. "He's extremely lucky, your boy is," the officer with a very professional-looking tag stating, 'Sean Mackin', continued. "They found him with a few others in a vegetable packing facility. The people with him rescued him from an alley… Aaron survived that tidal wave…" Sean smiled a deathly frightening smile that thankfully and mercifully faded away. "Of all of those thousands of millions people engulfed by the wave, a little boy survives it all." There was a long, uncomfortable silence among J.D. and his mother until Sean announced, "We're here." He opened the door, and Rachel ran into the small housing room, immediately bursting into hysterical sobs when her eyes fell onto her youngest son.

"Aaron!" she called out, wrapping her arms around him as he jumped into them. Mother and child just stood there for a few long, blissful moments until Aaron let go, sliding down Rachel's body.

Not surprisingly, he and J.D. embraced as well. And for a few longer, even more blissful moments, nothing was wrong in the world. They were oblivious to all of the chaos on the face of the Earth. None of that mattered. Words weren't needed to explain the happiness and relief.

But suddenly, the Summers family heard these words coming from Sean outside.

"What do you mean? The International Space Station went down? Where did it land?" there was a long, deafening pause from the other line.

"Mexico… near the United States Embassy… where all of the refugees are."

"Oh, God… how many have you found alive? Out of that... impact..."

"Five so far. Jason Evans, Janet Tokada, Michelle Chapman, Tom Gomez, and Lucy Hall. But we've only searched the NOAA building and the hospital."

"Mom," J.D. began, tears stinging his eyes. "… Oh my God, all those people…"

"What do you mean, you can't go out that far?" Doctor Lucy Hall was usually a reserved, calm, reasonable person in the face of disaster. She'd been trained to do that. But in this situation, all of those years at Medical School slipped down the drain. "My son… my only family and my only child, is out there, and you're not going to do anything about it?" she demanded, allowing the soldier to shrink in his uniform as he tried to calm her down. A few government officials and a shaken NOAA team, minus one, and Michelle Chapman were down here in the basement of the U.S. Embassy. This place used to be a fallout shelter, so they agreed it would be the best place to be for now.

"And my daughter is there with him! They could be dying!" Michelle emphasized bitterly. "You're the government, damnit!" She was crying, as was Lucy.

"I'm sorry, I truly am, and I realize what you're going through," No, you don't, Lucy almost said, but attempted to hold her tongue behind her teeth. "But you must keep calm, all of you." The soldier had a ring of authority in his voice.

Janet put a hand on Lucy's shoulder, and she gave a nod of appreciation. "I don't know about you, but I don't want to lose another part of my family today." She said shakily through her tears.

"Mrs. Hall—"

She rose from the cold concrete floor. "I'm not going to sit back and let my son and Laura die out there."

"They're probably already dead!" the soldier, named Richard Baldwin, shouted at the top of his lungs. "And you're going to commit suicide by going out there!"

"Either way, I'll be with my family." Lucy hissed pointedly, and with the arm that wasn't in a sling, she raised her middle finger in the air, gesturing it at Richard as she walked up the stairs to the surface, no one daring to stop her.

Is this death? There's a white light and everything…

These thoughts crossed Sam's mind as he awakened, his vision blurry. Everything was bumpy. "Sam? Sam? Oh, God… thank God you're awake…"

"Dad?"