Disclaimer: I don't own it. You can find this and other stories on if you so desire. Lyrics are "Far Away" by Nickelback.

One

Just one chance
Just one breath
Just in case there's just one left

It had been a good day. Inboxes never looked better. Paperwork was virtually non-existent. Everyone was gone for the day. It was the way it should be but rarely was.

Cragen walked out of the office and killed the light before working his way through the squad room and out the door. The stench of the city was refreshing and he took a big whiff before getting into his car. It had been nearly two days since he'd been outside. He hesitated before starting the car. Not tonight, he thought. Just the idle hum of the engine would fill his ears on the drive home. The scanner would remain silent. He opened the windows and pulled out into the street, all the while being met with the cooling evening air. It felt nice. He smiled. It was a good day.

He heard sirens off in the distance, the familiar wail warning him to stay back. He glanced to his right and slowed down as a fire truck roared past. Seconds later, two more followed. Shrugging, he resisted the urge to see what it was all about. There wasn't anything he could do about it, anyway. After all, he was Special Victims. He cocked his head to the left and right again before speeding up and exiting the intersection. He stole a look as he passed. The city never slept. It was pushing eleven, but he knew his detectives were slumbering somewhere in the city. Catching up on some much needed rest, he figured. In a matter of moments, he would be doing the same. Or so he thought.

Red lights flashed around the scene, illuminating just enough for those around to wish they hadn't seen anything at all. The mangled wreckage would have been enough to send the toughest of men crying into the arms of their mothers. Most of the officers had arrived on scene. Some arrived as backup. Others stood around trying to make themselves useful. Despite all the training, no one was prepared for what lay before them. Beyond the twisted metal was the unthinkable that no one on God's earth would ever wish to see. For a couple unfortunate souls, it would be engrained in their minds forever. For one, it would mean a lifetime full of nightmares.

She saw it happen in a blink of an eye. A second or two was all it took, it seemed, for it to all go down. A student by day, the waitress had just finished her shift and was walking home when the van sped by her, nearly knocking her to the ground. She could still feel the draft and pulled her sweater over her. She was shaking and it was nearly eighty degrees out still. She hadn't seen what had transpired afterward. She'd seen the fireball and had turned away. The next thing she knew she was blocks away, having run as far as she could to escape—what she didn't know. She still didn't know. She had an idea, though. She looked across the street to a man and her heart went out to him. Even from her vantage point, he looked pale and shaken; almost as if his white pallor glowed in the dark. She didn't envy him.

He fidgeted, alternating from one leg to the other. He just couldn't get comfortable. As if it mattered then. He'd gone outside the bar to hail a cab when he heard the sound. It had been deafening and from his earshot it was all he heard. He'd run over and by the time he'd gotten there, it had been clear to him that any help would have been pointless. That was over an hour ago. He slung his suit jacket over his shoulder as he caught a woman's eye from a few yards away. She was sitting in the back of an ambulance. Word had been that she had seen it all. He held her gaze briefly before turning away out of respect. That's what he told himself; mostly it was out of pity. What that poor soul had witnessed, he could only guess. He held up a hand and told the officers he would be a moment before flipping open his phone. With shaking hands, he somehow dialed the number. Three rings were all it took. God, her voice sounded good. Better than any beer could have been. He walked away from the two men and briefly looked back over again. A small piece of metal caught the light and he saw a flash as the woman turned her gaze away. He did the same. This time, it really was out of respect.

The witness was just that--a witness. She'd seen and heard it all. No one knew what it was, though. They had bits and pieces and were waiting for her to fill in the rest. It would come in good time. The weight of the world rested on her shoulders. Whoever said 'one was the loneliest number' was right. An oxygen mask was placed over her face as a medic checked her vitals. She was cool and collected on the outside. They didn't know her, though. It was how she dealt with such events; not that she'd ever experienced anything so horrific. She looked around and blinked away a few tears, determined not to lose it. The battle was lost the moment her eyes fell on him. She tore off the mask with blistered fingers and slowly approached him before stopping halfway. The man, dressed in a tee shirt and jeans, closed the gap quickly. His arms rose slightly encircling her and she held on for dear life. Her shoulders shook as she finally let go. The crew dispersed, giving them their privacy. It was the least they could do for one of their own.