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Sep. 12th, 2011 07:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cassievalentineTitle Untitled
Author Cassie Valentine
Fandom Castle
Rating G
Summary "I was there," she said suddenly. "Not there-there, but there.
She was 23 when it happened, all shiny and new in her dark blue uniform. Her shoes were polished and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the back of her neck not only to keep it out of the way but to let her hat stay on her head.
She didn’t really know what was going on except that she and a bunch of other uniforms had been ordered to the financial district for crowd control. In fact, that was all the information they were given before being sent off into the world.
So she had gone with her shiny shoes and neat hair and had felt her breath hitch in her throat when she saw the scene before her.
She clapped a hand over her mouth the second time, stifling a cry of shock, sorrow and surprise that never came.
She stood with thousands of others as they watched in horror before hearing her name yelled out. She snapped back to the matter at hand, pushing the crowd back, keeping them in line and keeping an eye on the media that kept trying to get through their lines.
She risked a look behind her when the tone of the crowd changed, when the push suddenly lessened and her eyes grew wide for a moment before she began scanning the crowd for the cop in charge. One quick order was issued and they all obeyed it without question.
She got side tracked though, heard a small cry among the chaos and didn’t hesitate to detour, heading towards what she should be running from and scooped up the small girl that had, somehow, gotten left behind. The girl was too big to carry and too small to run on her own but she carried her anyway, held on to her as tightly as she could and when she realized that she couldn’t out run it, she ducked down an alley and into a door way, curling herself around the little girl as tightly as she could and praying for the first time since they put her mother in the ground.
The noise was deafening and then it wasn’t. The world was still and the air was stifling but she risked it anyway and uncurled herself slightly so she could take a quick look only to find nothing. The girl in her arms was clinging to her with all her might, still crying softly, as she stood on shaky legs and moved away from their refuge. She quickly pulled her undershirt up over her nose and mouth in an attempt to keep the dust out before doing the same with the pink shirt the girl was wearing.
Carefully, she picked her way through the debris, dust still heavy in the air, keeping an eye out for others who were crawling out of their own hiding places. She didn’t even need to go to them as they came to her. Her shoes weren’t shiny any more and her hair was no longer pulled back neatly, but her uniform was still a dark blue, her hat was still on her head and her badge still shone like a beacon in the dark.
They moved slowly through the aftermath, stopping to help where they could and after what seemed like a lifetime and a half, the air began to clear, the dust began to lessen and people began to reappear.
Eventually, her and her little group were spotted more uniforms joined them, escorting people this way and that and when someone tried to take the little girl from her, both she and the girl clung to each other tighter until they were left together and brought to a paramedic who was waiting nearby.
Eventually, she did release the little girl into good hands, she was declared ok and sent home but things were different now.
Her training officer called it a baptism by fire and she was offered congratulations and thanks and titles she didn’t want. She turned down the interview and documentary requests.
Eventually, her shoes became boots and her uniform became street clothes. She cut her hair short and started to wear her badge on her hip instead of on her chest, but she never forgot.
She wondered about the little girl every now and then, though.
As always, years passed, people moved on and she didn’t talk about it, didn’t really even think about it anymore until that year when she found herself and her husband standing at a memorial, her own little girl held tightly in her arms and it all came back. The noise, the silence, the dust, the heat, the dirt and the little girl she had saved.
“I was there,” she said suddenly. “Not there-there, but there.” Her husband didn’t say anything. He didn’t ask question or offer any words of comfort. Somehow, as always, he knew it wasn’t what she wanted or needed. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her a little closer as they listened to the speaker.
Author Cassie Valentine
Fandom Castle
Rating G
Summary "I was there," she said suddenly. "Not there-there, but there.
She was 23 when it happened, all shiny and new in her dark blue uniform. Her shoes were polished and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the back of her neck not only to keep it out of the way but to let her hat stay on her head.
She didn’t really know what was going on except that she and a bunch of other uniforms had been ordered to the financial district for crowd control. In fact, that was all the information they were given before being sent off into the world.
So she had gone with her shiny shoes and neat hair and had felt her breath hitch in her throat when she saw the scene before her.
She clapped a hand over her mouth the second time, stifling a cry of shock, sorrow and surprise that never came.
She stood with thousands of others as they watched in horror before hearing her name yelled out. She snapped back to the matter at hand, pushing the crowd back, keeping them in line and keeping an eye on the media that kept trying to get through their lines.
She risked a look behind her when the tone of the crowd changed, when the push suddenly lessened and her eyes grew wide for a moment before she began scanning the crowd for the cop in charge. One quick order was issued and they all obeyed it without question.
She got side tracked though, heard a small cry among the chaos and didn’t hesitate to detour, heading towards what she should be running from and scooped up the small girl that had, somehow, gotten left behind. The girl was too big to carry and too small to run on her own but she carried her anyway, held on to her as tightly as she could and when she realized that she couldn’t out run it, she ducked down an alley and into a door way, curling herself around the little girl as tightly as she could and praying for the first time since they put her mother in the ground.
The noise was deafening and then it wasn’t. The world was still and the air was stifling but she risked it anyway and uncurled herself slightly so she could take a quick look only to find nothing. The girl in her arms was clinging to her with all her might, still crying softly, as she stood on shaky legs and moved away from their refuge. She quickly pulled her undershirt up over her nose and mouth in an attempt to keep the dust out before doing the same with the pink shirt the girl was wearing.
Carefully, she picked her way through the debris, dust still heavy in the air, keeping an eye out for others who were crawling out of their own hiding places. She didn’t even need to go to them as they came to her. Her shoes weren’t shiny any more and her hair was no longer pulled back neatly, but her uniform was still a dark blue, her hat was still on her head and her badge still shone like a beacon in the dark.
They moved slowly through the aftermath, stopping to help where they could and after what seemed like a lifetime and a half, the air began to clear, the dust began to lessen and people began to reappear.
Eventually, her and her little group were spotted more uniforms joined them, escorting people this way and that and when someone tried to take the little girl from her, both she and the girl clung to each other tighter until they were left together and brought to a paramedic who was waiting nearby.
Eventually, she did release the little girl into good hands, she was declared ok and sent home but things were different now.
Her training officer called it a baptism by fire and she was offered congratulations and thanks and titles she didn’t want. She turned down the interview and documentary requests.
Eventually, her shoes became boots and her uniform became street clothes. She cut her hair short and started to wear her badge on her hip instead of on her chest, but she never forgot.
She wondered about the little girl every now and then, though.
As always, years passed, people moved on and she didn’t talk about it, didn’t really even think about it anymore until that year when she found herself and her husband standing at a memorial, her own little girl held tightly in her arms and it all came back. The noise, the silence, the dust, the heat, the dirt and the little girl she had saved.
“I was there,” she said suddenly. “Not there-there, but there.” Her husband didn’t say anything. He didn’t ask question or offer any words of comfort. Somehow, as always, he knew it wasn’t what she wanted or needed. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her a little closer as they listened to the speaker.
