A truly horrible sight lay in Gordon's gaze. His brother, Mr. Blik, lay there in front of him, blood dripping down his chest. A wound of sacrifice… protection. Smoke and flame billowed from the South Tower, but that did not matter now. All that mattered was Blik. Gordon crouched down beside his fallen comrade. "Blik," he muttered sadly, "brother, are you alright, lad? Answer me!" Blik twitched slightly then began to shake.
"No, Blik… NO!" Gordon took his brother into his arms. "You cannot leave us now! Think of all the people up there that need us. That need you…" Waffle, who had been standing beside Gordon, turned and slowly trotted away, swollen with grief. Gordon looked back to his brother. His body had stopped shaking, but now his hands were curled into fists. He was trying to fight. "Blik, hold still, I'm here lad," sobbed Gordon, cradling his brother. Tears swelled in his eyes, nearly blinding him. "This is my fault, Blik. I we had stayed down there, I… we…" He couldn't stand it any longer. He dug his face in Mr. Blik's fur and cried. The distant sounds of fire and blazing sirens were nothing now but whispers in the wind.
"What… am I doing?" cried Gordon, looking back at the streets. "I can't give up, I need to help Blik!" Slowly rising to his feet, still holding his brother, he cautiously leaped down from the building. He hit the ground, nearly shattering his bones. He gritted his sharp teeth, but kept running despite his pain. He had to save Blik. He sprinted along the sidewalk past other pedestrians. Gordon looked away from their teary-eyed faces. Blik was not the only one who had suffered. A woman being loaded onto a stretcher had dark, bloody holes in her forehead. Another man's leg was hanging by a thread. Suddenly, Gordon slammed into a person standing in his way.
"Gordon, I got a paramedic to get Blik!" Waffle was sitting on the ground, holding his forehead from knocking into Gordon. The medic took Blik and placed him in his van. "My I ride in back, sir?" asked Gordon, hoping to talk to Blik if he was still alive. "Me, too!" said Waffle. The medic nodded. The two brothers rode for a few minutes. Waffle took Blik's hand. His eyelids fluttered, then opened. "Waffle? Gordon?" he asked weakly. Gordon shushed him. He needed to save his strength for later. "You're ok, Blik."
"Yeah," Blik answered, "but what about you guys? What about the Towers?" He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain filled his chest. He yelped and held his wound. "No, Blik, don't touch it! You're gonna push it in more, lad." He took Blik's arm and held it for a while. Blik smiled sheepishly. Gordon grinned back. He was the luckiest cat in the world. Sure, he had wealth, a mansion, and many other replaceable items, but the one thing he had that he cared for most were his two brothers.
When they reached the hospital, the shard of shrapnel in Blik's chest was finally removed. Even though only a few minutes had past, he had made a full recovery. "Gordon," he said, sliding off the medical bed, "You saved my life, and for that, I thank you." He patted Gordon on the back. A sharp, breathtaking pain jolted down his spine and through his legs. He fell backwards onto the floor. He had forgotten about jumping off the apartment roof. "Are you all right, Gordon?" shouted Waffle, who was waiting patiently in a chair in the corner.
"OW! I think… I think my legs are broken." Gordon tried to stand, but another sharp jolt of pain coursed through his spine. He suddenly thought of all the innocent people in the Towers. Trapped, wounded. Maybe even dead. His pain suddenly vanished, and slowly, he staggered to his feet. "Blik," he stated, "I know it is dangerous in those towers, but I want to help!" Blik's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, no. No, no, no, NO! You are NOT going up there! I forbid it!" Gordon frowned in anger and attempted to leave the room. Mr. Blik pounced instinctively, sending his brother sliding into the hospital hallway.
"Don't, Gordo! Please! Don't try to be a hero! You're gonna get killed if you go up there!" Blik begged and pleaded, but Gordon just got up and walked on. He knew his duty. Blik had nearly given his life for him, and now it was Gordon's turn. "Blik," he shouted, spinning around to face his brother, "I'm doing this for you! Don't you care? Don't you care that I care about you? You and Waffle?" He stood there, his eyes and Blik's locked in an unbreakable trance. Blik thought for a moment then hung his head.
"You're right…" he mumbled sadly, "… I do care, Gordon and I know you want to help those people, but I…" Blik stared at Waffle, "… we don't want to lose you." He walked toward Gordon and put his arms around him. "I…" Blik couldn't say the words he utterly wanted to speak. "You don't have to say it, lad," whispered Gordon. Blik did not want to let go. Gordon took Blik's arms and pulled them away. "If I don't come back," he said, "Take care of each other, lads. Goodbye." Gordon stalked away. He knew that he might be walking to his grave. Waffle's distant sobs were left unheard. Blik tried to speak, but no words came to mind. All there was left to think of was each other. All three cats felt emptiness in their hearts, as if a piece of their life was missing.