9/11 is a day that I'll never forget. Being from Long Island, less than an hour away from the city, the day sits with me. I can remember it clearly, and I can still see the haze of the smoke in the air from my house if I close my eyes. I can still remember going into the city in the following months, seeing the debris and the remains of the towers too. A lot of innocent people lost their lives that day, and even now, 13 years later, the day still hurts.

I thought we could use this day to bring forth something worth smiling over. How about a love story that develops in this tragedy?

Anyway, thank you if you read this. I hope this story reminds you of those who lost their lives that day, and the promise that I hope you remember, too. We Will Never Forget.

Enjoy.

"Man, I can't wait for the weekend!" Austin Moon peered up from where he sat, pulling on his work-issued shoes as he listened to his best friend and fellow firefighter chat, the man going on about the weekend getaway he had with his long time girlfriend, Trish. He chuckled as his friend continued with his babbling; only adding in when it was absolutely necessary. He loved Dez Wade, but the dude could talk for hours.

"It's seven am," he finally muttered, shaking his head. "Please, either grab me some coffee, or shut the hell up."

The redhead looked offended. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he quipped, grinning at the open-mouthed man. "Shut it."

"Rude!" he yelled after him, as Austin double checked that his gear was still in place. It'd been a quiet morning so far, but he's only been on an hour. And he still had eleven more to go. He'd had one cup of coffee, but figured if he was going to spend the day with his fellow rookie firefighter, he needed more caffeine. Both of them were 'probies' according to the elder men of his department of which they were assigned. And that meant beyond the constant teasing and practical jokes, they were still under watch to see how they did.

Austin simply smiled as Dez stalked off, starting to chat with another one of the men who he worked with. This went on for what felt like only minutes, but apparently was an hour. Soon, the place buzzed to life and they were called to investigate a possible gas leak not too far from where they were situated, smack in the middle of lower Manhattan, only blocks from the famous World Trade Center. They were called quickly, told they wouldn't be gone long.

Austin and Dez hurried. They'd only been with the department a few weeks now, and considering how you thought of it, they'd been lucky. There had not been any major fires or any reason to not sleep at night. One or two small fires, of course, and a couple of other firefighter-needed disturbances, but it'd been relatively quiet.

Still, it felt awesome to both men as they climbed aboard the screaming truck, headed to the spot in only minutes. They inspected the area, finding the claim to be false when a sound overhead caught their attention.

"Damn," Dez commented, shaking his head. "Planes seem extra loud today—"

He didn't finish his sentence. Both boys looked up toward the sky—in direct view of the two large buildings—as a plane flew overhead. It was too late as it crashed right into the North Tower, sending a fiery ball of smoke into the air, and shocking onlookers around them. It sent his captain into high alert and they were quickly ushered back onto the truck to see what they could do. As he piled on, he could hear the civilians around them whispering, wondering what would cause a plane to malfunction that badly so that it ended up there.

Only did he not know nothing had malfunctioned and it was far from an accident. The two best friends had just witnessed one of the worst attacks in recent history on the United States.

Never Forget

"Alright, Sweetheart, I'm living now. I'll talk to you later." Ally peered up just in time for her fiancé to press a kiss onto her temple. She smiled easily as he added, "I love you."

"I love you too," she answered, slipping on her comfortable shoes as she searched the keys to their apartment. Dallas stepped outside, clad in a business suit for an interview that day in the city for a company that resided in the World Trade Center. The job would get them the extra money they needed to fund their upcoming wedding. She knew he'd get the job, but still she worried. There was a bad feeling in her stomach, and she just hoped the day would be kind.

After finding her keys, she quickly ran out the door to catch her own work time at the busy hospital as a registered nurse. She'd only been doing this job for several months, new graduate given a huge chance as an emergency room nurse, and she was forever grateful for it.

Luckily, their apartment was only a short subway ride to the hospital and she even got to enjoy the beautiful late summer morning on her way. She couldn't help but think maybe the sinking feeling in her stomach was just her nerves, and forced a huge smile onto her face as she entered the building, just as a fire truck drove by.

"Morning, Ally!" Trish, a fellow nurse called to her. "It's going to be a good day!"

Never Forget

"It's not going to be a good day," Dez commented quietly as their captain tried to assess the situation as they neared the burning building. They parked the truck not too far from the towers, surveying the area. Their Captain, an older man with an odd mustache was speaking on one of the walkie-talkies, trying to convey the need for additional units. Over the next couple of minutes, they were given assignments.

He looked up in horror to see people jumping from the building through the thick smoke, landing not too far from where he stood. He had to swallow the bile in his throat. This would haunt him for some time.

They were to evacuate any people they came across, making sure each floor was clear before ascending down further. Dez and Austin were about to step inside when another roar came before them. They both glanced up wide-eyed as another plane hit the South Tower, exciting several screams and cries from on-lookers who were still wide-eyed from the first attack. His Captain cursed, revealing what he would remember as the first time someone said this, "This isn't an accident. This is a fucking attack." He quickly got back on the radio, and they were ushered inside.

Insanity ensued inside. People rushed about, whispering and calling out to each other. Several people rushed past them, to the doors and to freedom. Outside, as he looked back, no longer looked sunny. Instead there was a film almost, and debris were falling freely. This made him reach for his helmet, making sure it was secure on his head. They entered the stairwell, knowing it would be safer to use that and began to the trek up. They went for several flights, insisting to anyone they came across that they needed to evacuate. Along the way, they saw several people covered in dust and injuries.

"What the hell is going on?" Dez commented lowly.

Austin was too in shock to truly give thought to that. He instead focused on the task at hand, swallowing the ever rising lump in his throat, and prayed that he would return home to his family that night. Each minute that went on—as the radios crackled and spouted new knowledge—he knew this was some sort of heinous attack on the Americans inside and it hurt his heart to even think about. Who would do something like this?

As they got to the twentieth floor, the lights cut out. Dez cursed as he stumbled and Austin grabbed his arm. Screams from above him hurt his ears, but they used flashlights to push forward. They were making good time, and they hoped it would suffice until someone could get the fire out.

"This is complete shit," he murmured, mostly to himself.

More injured people descended down what seemed to be one of the few fully functioning staircases. Without power, the elevators were out of work, and without lights caused more panic than problem solving. It took many tries to convince people that they needed to move it.

It got hard to breathe after a while. It was hot, unbelievably so. He had to fight to keep upright as people pushed and shoved down the stairs. And that was when it was all still good.

Then, he felt it. It's like an earthquake—he assumed because he's never experienced one—that shook the entire building, sending more people screaming and his own heart pounding in his chest. It continued for what feels like hours, when he heard the radio crackle to life. "Evacuate the building, South Tower has collapsed! Evacuate!"

Dez stood there, too shocked to move. Austin could remember pushing him down the steps, but there were people in the way. He knew they needed to get our first—they were civilians after all; it is their job to protect the innocent. He could also remember helping as many injured down the steps as he could.

It's chaotic. It's insanity. It's all around evil. That's all that he remembered thinking as he ascended down the dirt filled steps, his mind whirling at the thought. He chose this job because he wanted to help people. He never expected this. This wasn't supposed to happen.

He vaguely remembered seeing he was on the fiftieth floor when he heard the cry. It was a woman; young and terrified and he paused where he stood to make sure he wasn't hallucinating at that point. He nudged Dez, pointing to an abandoned office room, and then attempted to kick in the door. It didn't budge. He tried again, annoyed when he finally realized something was blocking the doorway. The woman on the other side screamed, begging for someone to help her.

It took several minutes, but they eventually were able to push away a rather large desk from in front of it, and found themselves next to a woman who is pinned beside it. She's bloody and pale and his heart hammered in his chest because she looks like his ex girlfriend.

"I'm stuck," she cried, her tears staining her cheeks. Dez and he worked fast to untangle her, but it took time. He doesn't know what time it was when they began to carry her down the remaining floors, but he had got a sinking feeling in his stomach. Like the cruel world he just woke up in was ready for another twist, and he'd be stuck in it. He tried to move faster, but it was hot and people are still beckoning down the steps, making it hard to see and hard to move. He knew they are scared, so he realized he couldn't get angry.

They weren't far from the first floor when he felt it. It was another rumble, a powerful shake that sent them flying across the floor. The woman fell out of his hands, landing somewhere beyond him. He could remember screaming himself hoarse as he called one last time for his best friend, the last image of the insane redhead being a wide-eyed, pale faced hero who shielded his body to protect the woman's.

And that was when he blacked out.

Never Forget

Ally was horrified as she watched the news. Her fingers trembled over her cell phone, dialing a number that she knew by heart, getting more flustered when it only gave way to a busy tone. She hit it again and again, getting angrier as time went on. He had to answer. He was fine; she knew he had to be.

The sinking feeling in her stomach returned.

That was when her boss came flying into the ER, announcing they would be one of the hospitals that would house some of the wounded.

Never Forget

Pain, unimaginable, piercing pain that woke him. He gasped as he came to; attempting to move from the position he was in only to find himself submerged in… the rubble. It all flooded back to him in seconds, reminding him of the hell he'd just endured. He choked back a breath, feeling that hurt too and then opened his eyes. It was dark—that wasn't surprising—and it was hot and he couldn't see much. There were shadows cast around him, and he couldn't be too far buried because he could hear the chaos that ensued outside. He was definitely stuck though. And he couldn't find Dez.

He screamed, but his voice was gone. He then discovered the blood that was dripping too steadily out of his head and that thinking made it worse. He knew from some training that he had to calm himself to save both his energy and make his heart slow somewhat; otherwise he was going to bleed out. He attempted to survey around him best he could as he calmed, seeing a small bit of sunlight and sky from where he was. One hand was able to break free, and he maneuvered it toward the small hole. He again tried to scream, this time a tiny whisper answered him.

He was going to die there.

He closed his eyes, picturing his parents who were so proud of what their son had accomplished. His good friends, everyone who rooted for him. He imagined the ceremony that would follow his death, the words that would be said. They'd call him a hero. The tears pouring out of his eyes right then would say otherwise. He felt like a coward.

He scratched at the surface of twisted mental, growing angry at his situation. He thrashed best he could, trying to create enough wiggle room without causing anything else to cave around him. Eventually, he was able to unpin himself enough to reach further up the hole. And then he found a loose metal rod.

And he hit it against whatever he could, loud as his strength would allow him.

Again.

And again.

Over and over until he prayed someone would find him.

They did.

It was almost two hours later, and they claimed he was lucky he was so close to the top, or they never would have found him that soon. He supposed that meant he was lucky. They had a stretcher waiting for him, and a crowd of onlookers watched from about a block back. They cheered as he was loaded onto a nearby ambulance and he finally let himself fade.

He remembered asking about Dez, about the woman who they'd attempted to save. The paramedic put a finger to his lips, and then covered his mouth with a mask. He blacked out again once more as the sirens began to wail.

Never Forget

Ally thought she was never going to survive that night in the ER. By two pm, the place was swarmed with victims and survivors, all needing various forms of medical attention. They'd sent many to other nearby facilities and so by rumor they were setting up a makeshift hospital at one of the colleges, but they were still packed there. It went from small cuts and burns to a few missing limbs. She'd seen plenty of trauma in her years of training and actual experience, but never this much at one time.

That's when they wheeled the blond firefighter in. He was covered in dust and ash from head to toe, lying unconscious on a gurney with an oxygen mask covering his mouth. He had too many cuts and bruises to count, and an aggravated head wound that made her think he probably had a concussion. The paramedic urged her over, adding, "He's got four cracked ribs, a collapsed lung, and several contusions to his head, and possibly a broken arm. He needs surgery right away and a blood transfusion if he's going to live."

She worked quickly, setting him up for that as the doctor's prepared to operate. As she cleaned him best she could, she had a chance to look closer. He was quite handsome to the naked eye despite all the scars he had covering him right then. He was lean and firm, his body resembling the city's finest. She didn't have much longer before the doctor was ready and he was pushed away.

She quickly said a prayer for him, and then worked her way back up to the front desk, continuing the process of the possibly worst day in her life.

Ally didn't have long before someone interrupted her this time.

"Excuse me, Miss. Dawson?"

She looked up to see an intern pointing at the TV. On the screen was the company that her fiancé had an interview for, and the headline nearly made her collapse. They were above the impact point on the first tower; their had been no survivors that would have been able to escape. Her heart began to pound in her chest and she forced herself into a seat, closing her eyes and praying that they were wrong. Maybe he wasn't up there yet! Or maybe he had already finished the interview and was on his way home. She knew that they'd shut down most of the major roads and other means of travel, which reminded her that he was probably stuck. Just because the new was presenting that to her, didn't mean it was true. It wasn't true. It wasn't true.

Ally would have liked to think she could have worried about this, but in all honesty, she didn't have much time to. There was just too much to do, too much to worry about. It went on for several more hours, and then eventually died down to a slower pace only about twenty minutes before her shift was due over.

"Nurse Dawson," the doctor who had taken away the blond firefighter earlier called. "You forgot to sign some forms earlier when they took in Mr. Moon. He's been moved to a room, here is the directions. Please sign those forms before you leave today, if you will." He didn't wait. "Thank you."

She looked down at the papers, checked around her, and figured she could make it up there and do as she was asked before having to leave. It was only one floor up anyway, and she still had a few minutes to go. So she went, trying to keep her mind off the terrible events of that day, forcing her heart to keep itself together and work on the task at hand. She had to remind herself her job was her first focus. Mistakes could cost someone's life.

The distance was short and she found Mr. Moon's room with ease. She was glad the young man had made it through his surgery and according to his chart, she'd read that he'd make a full recovery. It also stated that he'd been buried in the rubble, which sent her heart into her throat just thinking about it. Escape with minimal physical injuries, but the mental ones could hurt worse.

Still, she smiled as she signed the papers, again saying a prayer for the young man when a raspy voice spoke, "Excuse me?"

She froze, turning slowly once she realized it was him staring back at her with bleary eyes. "Yes?" she asked, quickly crossing the distance. Her instincts as a nurse kicked in almost immediately.

"What happened?"

Ally didn't have the heart to tell him, but then it seemed to hit him like a brick.

"Oh God."

"You're okay," she assured him. "You're going to be okay. Full recovery."

He just stared at her, wide eyed. "And my best friend?"

"I'm sorry?"

"My best friend, NYFD Dez Wade. Is there any news on him?"

She shook her head, "I'm sorry, not that I know of. You were brought in alone."

He didn't answer this, instead questioned, "Are you my nurse?"

"Not exactly. I was the nurse who brought you in, but I work in the ER. You've been transferred here now; they will take care of you. I just forgot to sign a few forms."

His eyes darkened, "Will you visit me?"

That question threw her off guard. "I'm sorry?"

He shook his head. "Nevermind. Is it possible to get something to drink?"

Ally smiled, "I'll see what I can do, Mr. Moon. Please rest while I ask."

Never Forget

He awoke in the hospital, still in a lot of pain, but there was what he could only consider as an angel beside him. She stood far to the right, holding what looked like a chart. He watched her for several minutes and then smiled, whispering, "Excuse me?"

"What happened?"

It flooded back to him within seconds and suddenly the pain was even worse. "Oh God."

"You're okay," she said, but he didn't hear the rest. He was back in that tower, trying to rescue the woman screaming, urging Dez to move faster. It all sounded too loud in his head.

Dez.

DEZ.

"And my best friend?" he asked, his voice strained.

"I'm sorry?"

Not a good sign.

"My best friend, NYFD Dez Wade. Is there any news on him?"

"I'm sorry, not that I know of. You were brought in alone." He tried to ignore that. Dez was fine. He was probably already tossing a few back with the other guys.

"Are you my nurse?"

She told him no. He decided that this beautiful woman with the doe eyes and sweet smile couldn't go far. "Will you visit me?"

He threw her off guard, making her stumble.

He retracted, "Nevermind. Is it possible to get something to drink?"

She assured him she'd be back, but when the person did return with some water, the nurse, whose name he never got, was nowhere to be found.

Never Forget

Ally had to walk home. There was just no other means for transportation. And it wasn't like the streets weren't crowded, because they were. Everyone had the same problem, they were stranded in a city with no exits currently, and all terrified of what was to come. Would there be another attack? Every store she passed with a news channel on the TV had something to do with the attacks. They were reporting so many deaths already.

She'd been good at pushing away the horrible thoughts on her mind until now. All she could think about was Dallas and the World Trade Center and where he was. The phones had opened up again, but now his phone just went to voicemail. It left her little solace.

It took her almost an hour to get into her neighborhood, and another half of one to find her apartment in the ruckus that went on around her. She hurried inside, praying that when she unlocked the door that Dallas would be sitting on the couch, ready to explain and count his blessings for the days. This was not the case.

She returned to a dark apartment with no showing of her fiancé there. She again tried her phone, her sense completely leaving her at this point, hitting redial again and again until the phone froze and she threw it across the room. A scream left her throat and she collapsed onto the couch, sobbing into her hands. Was if he was injured in one of the other hospitals? What if he was stuck somewhere and couldn't get home? The worse came to mind… what if he wasn't coming home?

She flicked on the TV, staring at the news until her eyes blurred. She made some tea, pouring it into a mug to continue her quest for answers. The news gave little. Everyone was baffled, everyone was shattered. How could someone do something so evil? They all asked that question, no one had answers. President Bush made a speech or two, speaking of the strength of our nation, but it just made her sick. Who could do this?

The news went off minutes later. She retrieved her phone from where she's thrown it, double checking that she had no messages. She peeked down at the city streets from below her, hoping it'd give her an answer. She didn't receive one. It was nearly midnight by the time she knew she had to head into their bedroom, carrying both the nearly empty mug and clutching her cell phone with the other hand, moving quickly into the covers, noticing only half would be unfolded.

There she sat… the hours passed slowly. Soon, the sun was rising again, and she was still clutching the phone. He never returned home.

She called out of work that morning, knowing she had to get to where the attacks happened. Her safety was no longer a concern; she had to find her fiancé. His parents had called, begging for information and demands for safety, but she didn't have an answer. She simply hung up and looked to the sky for some sort of sign. The sun was still shining but the sky seemed darker today somehow.

By the time she reached the area, she noticed she couldn't get more than two blocks near it. She'd pushed through the people looking on, finding a cop who was keeping check of the crowd. Her eyes were wide at the destruction ahead of her, and she tapped the cop on the shoulder. He turned; ready to tell her to stay back, when she asked, "Who do I contact about a missing person?"

He sighed, his eyes casting toward the ground. "I can point you toward a building where the missing are being listed, and if the person you're looking for has checked in, it would be there, too."

"And if he hasn't?"

"Ma'am, it's quite chaotic here still. I'm afraid I don't have that many answers."

"My fiancé had a job interview inside there yesterday," she whispered. "I need to know if he's safe."

He sympathized with her, giving her the address to the place. She found it minutes later, not seeing his name on the checked in group of people. She soon used her license to check nearby hospitals, all apologizing when she was told there was not anyone by his name at the hospital. She returned home to her apartment, where she sat for the next twenty four hours, watching the door.

Her answers came the next afternoon. Two officers were on the other end of the door, holding a wallet. They apologized immediately, explaining that they'd found the wallet on the body, and asked if she'd come in to identify him. In the time it took to get to the over-filled morgue, she'd convinced herself that someone had stolen it. Dallas was probably walking around the city, begging people to give it back, probably lost and confused. He couldn't be dead. He wasn't dead. He promised her forever.

She got there with them a few minutes later, when her entire world shattered. She briefly remembered sobbing into the officer's shirt, unable to contain herself anymore.

She sobbed.

Soon, the tears ran dry and the cop drove her back to her apartment, where again, she sat for several days, not moving.

His parents came down from New Hampshire several days later, and they had his funeral. It was small but loving, and she said goodbye to the love of her life that day. The pain was still unbearable, but she knew he'd want her to hold it together. So, the day following his funeral, she got dressed and headed into work. The day wasn't easy and several times she had to excuse herself to break down, but she got through it.

Until she saw him, in a wheelchair, signing himself out with only one hand, the other in a sling. He looked just as miserable as she felt and her heart ached for him. Who did he lose? How many fellow firefighters in his department died rescuing others?

He finally caught her gaze, and his eyes lit up momentarily. Ally busied herself, disappearing behind a gate so that she didn't have to make conversation. But she watched him from afar until he got into a cab and left the hospital, where she thought she'd seen the last of him.

Never Forget

She found solace in things that Dallas enjoyed. She used to hate the coffee shop he'd stopped at every morning before work, but now she went out of her way to do the same. She'd get his favorite breakfast food, and drink her coffee the way that he did, spending her few spare minutes in the morning on the outside café on the busy streets of Manhattan as she prepared for her day. She people watched. Everyone had a story, and so many were being strong these days in the following weeks of the attack. It'd been almost a week since any survivors had been pulled from the rubble, and the rescuers were losing hope. So many cots had been set up, only to remain unused. Those who were buried now would spend their time there in a temporary grave.

She watched the news and followed all the reports. She wanted to see the people responsible for Dallas's death suffer. But the weeks following gave little answers. There would not be an answer for a long time.

That's when he showed up. It was a Friday, her last day before a three day weekend, as she sat outside, reading the paper on the chair. He strolled up beside her, arm still in a sling, and walking with a limp, pausing to stare at her. At first, she knew he looked familiar, and then she knew why.

"You were at the hospital," she realized.

He nodded, "You were the nurse there the first day!" He paused, chuckling. "I thought I was dreaming of you. Glad to know that you're a reality."

She blushed. "I'm glad you're okay."

He smiled. "Thanks." It disappeared. "Suppose I'm lucky. Not everyone was."

"No," she agreed. "Some of us lost some very dear people."

"I understand that," he whispered. "My best friend is somewhere in that mess."

She stared at him for a long time, not too sure if she should admit her loss. "My fiancé is there, too," she finally added. "Well, he was. We got his body and took him home."

"I'm sorry," he went to say, pausing. "I don't know your name."

"Ally," she answered. "Ally Dawson. Moon, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "Austin Moon."

She put another delicate smile on her face. It wasn't a happy one, but it was sincere. "Well, thank you, Austin for risking your life that day to save others. It's truly appreciated."

He shrugged. "Just doing my job."

Never Forget

Austin began seeing the nurse from the hospital everywhere. In the weeks following the attack, as he began to heal and venture out of his apartment and back onto the streets in which he loved, he saw her practically everywhere he went. First, it was his local coffee shop. Then, it was the grocery store. And then, oddly was a 9/11 Group Support.

She'd been sitting in the corner, not saying much as others talked about who they lost. He didn't speak much either, unless someone spoke to him first. But he watched her, watched her sad eyes and broken spirit. He wished he could do something for her, give her something to look forward to again. How could you go on losing a fiancé? His heart ached.

He too missed Dez. The joyful, sometimes crazy man was sorely missed in the station, and his lack of presence often caught him off guard when he went to visit everyone else who cleaned up after the attacks. Nothing was the same there. They'd lost a total of five men, and another several had been seriously injured. He just wished for one more chance to hear a story from the man. He just wished he could hear his laugh one more time.

The therapy sucked, but it was mandated by the state for all the guys who had been there.

He pretended he liked it, smiling at the other broken souls inside.

But nothing helped.

Time did, but it was slow going.

Never Forget

Her boss recommended a therapy group for those affected by the attacks. She went, to satisfy him and to see if it would help. It didn't, but she saw a familiar face. Austin was not too far from her, wearing a similar expression to her own, his eyes sad and his expression distracted.

She was enthralled by him, not romantically, but in a way she couldn't quite place.

It seemed they were linked by some sort of force, perhaps a supernatural one that just wanted them together. After all, she'd been seeing him everywhere in the last few weeks. Maybe it was a sign. She chose this one day, deciding to take the bait and walk up to him. "Austin, right?"

He nodded, giving her a gentle smile. "Ally."

"I've noticed we keep running into each other, and I'm starting to think it's for a reason," she explained. "I thought maybe tomorrow, instead of waving at you in the morning, you'd like to grab a cup of coffee, maybe even lunch. I could use a day that isn't this hell."

He nodded again. "I'd like that."

So they ate. At first, it was awkward. Ally didn't say much, and he didn't want to cross uncomfortable boundaries with her, either. But she found comfort in someone who knew what it felt like to lose someone that close to you. His presence was enough some days, as they sat, whether it be at a restaurant or at the park over looking the Hudson River.

Eventually, they did talk. Nothing important was said, mainly things that just passed the time. Soon though, they talked about them. Them being Dallas. Dez. They shared stories, they cried together. Austin told her about Dez's girlfriend, a crazy girl named Trish. They were perfect for each other. She told him about Dallas, and his drive to make their lives perfect. He never succeeded in his eyes, she was sure, but he died trying to better their lives that day, and in her eyes, that was good enough.

Over time, the lunches began more than twice a week. It was daily. Then it was dinner, too. A movie. A walk down by the water. Soon, they felt inseparable. Ally needed his presence to feel happy. It was the first time in the following months since Dallas's death that she felt alive again. That the darkness that surrounded the city wasn't consuming her. For the first time, it was lightening.

He kissed her one day. It was short, a little bit worried, but it was sweet. He backed up, his eyes guarded as he awaited her reaction. It'd been five months and she thought it was okay. He'd want her happy, he'd want her to move on, find love again. Maybe they wouldn't work out, maybe they would crash and burn like the towers did, taking away two of the most important people in their life. But he made her happy, something that not many could do. He took the dark clouds and pulled them away. She could remember what it felt like that morning when she left for work, seeing the bright blue sky, the beautiful sun shining down on her, reminding her that there was much to do, still so much to see. He brought back the daylight.