literature

From a Different Light America x Reader -Break Pt3

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It’d been a week…or maybe two…no it had been three.

But America was literally in chaos. Panic, fear, anger, pain, sorrow, it was everywhere. The paranoia almost as bad as that of the Cold War, the anger and fear of another attack nearly as intense as that of Pearl Harbor. The attack on the Twin Towers in New York City was such an earth-rattling event for Americans and even for many others around the world…

The attack, the event, that horrible day, was beginning to be known as 9/11. The sickly ironic part about it, 9/11…911…many wondered if the terrorists had planned it that way. But many more feared a third world war or worse…

Alfred Jones watched all this happen around him from his hospital bed in NYC. He was so grateful to have been trapped in a hospital instead of having to answer the public’s questions like his colleagues in DC had to. He was rattled enough, as it is after that awful event that he survived and in the process of doing so, saved another’s life. His personal linguist and translator, ____ ____. She’d been in his office when the first plane crashed into the North Tower. The battle to free themselves from the crumbling tower was great and took a heavy toll on both of them, but somehow they made it out. Injured, in pain, bloody, and weak, but alive. They then managed to survive the trip to the hospital and there they were treated and cared for by a Dr. Makith, his technicians, his entire team of surgeons, and a sweet, bubbly, nurse named Skye.

Now he sat, hearing all the delirium outside his room, protected by the white walls and the nurses that wanted to keep his stress level down. The hospital room he lies in was all white and entirely vulnerable to the panic consuming the hospital and much of New York City. This was because the white walled, blasé room Jones remained in was the original room he was given. The Doctor and nurse had tried to move him to a nicer suite since he was the only surviving US Ambassador (until new ones are appointed of course). A suite where he would be removed from the noise of the panicked world. But Jones gave the suite to ______ and insisted they treat her with utmost care as a high priority patient like himself.

Everyone was confused a bit by this, especially _____ herself.  She wasn’t related to Jones, they weren’t in any sort of relationship of any kind, hell she didn’t even like the childish asshole that she knew him to be! She just worked unaccustomed to the generosity that suddenly decided to flow out of Jones like a waterfall. So she got the suite. Her family lived too far away and couldn’t fly to NYC because of all the pandemonium surrounded airports and planes right now. But her best friend, Arthur, found her and was so overjoyed to hear of her survival. He stayed by her side and kept her company in the hospital so his dear friend wouldn’t be frightened or alone. They avoided the topic of their boss’ generosity, simply because the idea of a decent Jones was just too far fetched.

Jones on the other hand, as we said, remained in the basic white room he had been first given and had shared with ______ while they were unconscious. His twin brother Matthew arrived less than a day after he was contacted by the hospital. Matthew, soft spoken, polite, and ridiculously kind, was there by his side as well. And that’s where he was now, three weeks later, when Skye walked in.

“So Dr. Makith says you’re looking good. Health wise of course, not looks wise, you and your brother are both covered in that department.” By now Alfred was used to the perky (occasionally flustered) woman. But he wasn’t interested in the nurse at all. At least not in a romantic sense. He chuckled lightly, “Go on Skye.”

“Oh right. He says you’ll be home before Halloween without a single stitch on your back if your recovery keeps up like this. Thankfully you wont need any rehab or anything but you will have to careful with your back. Very careful. I’m sure your brother can watch over you at least until New Years.” the perky nurse looked towards the quiet man sitting next to Jones’ bed. His glasses slipped down his nose a bit and a light dust of pink came over his cheeks when she acknowledged him.

Matthew fumbled to speak, “Uh….y-yeah…sure…I can d-do that.” Skye smiled sweetly towards him and was about to leave, but not before Jones could stop her, “How is she?”

The nurse froze and turned around, “Um…” She seemed to become less perky and a bit saddened by his question. She hesitated, “nowhere near leaving if that’s what you’re wondering. She’s going to need a lot of help to get back on her feet again.” Jones gave a solemn nod, dismissing the nurse and then looked down. His brother watched his gaze carefully for a moment.

“Al…”

“What Mattie?”

“You’re going to get Skye in trouble if you keep insisting she tells you confidential information about her. You know that it’s-“

Jones interjected a little frustrated, “Yes Matt, I know.” He sighed, not meaning to have snapped at his soft spoken brother, “I just…I can’t help it. I have to know.”

“Why not just ask her yourself?” the kind man asked curiously.

“Matt, I can hardly get out of bed. Besides you know she hates me. And she’s got enough on her shoulders as it is.” Alfred said looking at his twin somberly.

“Oh right…” Matthew was at a loss. He didn’t know what to say or how to help his brother. He was just grateful he didn’t have to bury his body or an empty coffin. Although the poor violet eyed twin to Jones felt horrible. He wanted to help him but he had no idea how to comfort or aid him.

However, Jones was right. Even at that moment, _______ was sitting down the hall in her plush hospital bed in the suite she had been given, confused, disoriented, and explaining the events to Arthur rapidly. He followed as best as he could; listening to his friend as she explained the whole event in great detail.

She sighed and slumped back into her pillows once she finished, “Arthur I don’t even know what to think anymore. This whole thing has been…traumatic to say the least.”

Her friend extended a kind hand to hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, “I know, love. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I wish you had just ditched that day and come with me. But…” Arthur sighed and smiled, using his other hand to gently lift her chin to look into his deep green eyes, “At least your alive. I’d rather have you here, injured and in need of serious rehab to get back to walking, than down in the morgue lifeless. As much as I hate to say it, I’m grateful that dumb twat for saving you from that breaking beam.”

______ smiled and then gave a mock shock look and quickly touched Arthur’s forehead in a joking exaggerated “panic”, “Arthur are you feeling alright!? You must be terribly ill to actually be saying something NICE about Jones!” Arthur shook his head and chuckled a bit. He set her hand back down and pat it gently.

“You should rest, love. The faster you get better, the sooner we can go see Broadway and dance the nice away with Gilbert, Antonio, and the Frog.” Arthur said softly. He was afraid by mentioning this her eyes would stray to her still heavily wrapped leg and an instant flood of regret and remorse would fill her. He held his breath waiting for the post-traumatic depression.

But _______ lit up excitedly at his words instead. Being the person she was meant focusing on the good whenever she possibly could. Her mind quickly began to spin excitedly, “Wait they’re still coming?”

“Yes of course! The moment they heard of the attack that changed the date of their flights. Then when they heard that you were alive, they changed it again to an even EARLIER flight to get here sooner. Those three have been pushing and fighting to get here. It’s rough though because of all the panic and madness happening outside these walls.” ______ chuckled hearing this and smiled.

“Thank you Arty. For being here.” She finally said beginning to settle back into her soft pillows.

Arthur smiled and stood up to go get some coffee for himself, “What else are friends for, ______?” His friend smiled as he left and then her eyes drifted upwards to the plane white roof, and then slipping back into a haze…but not made up images…memories…

She was back in the screaming, back in the panic, the floor was slanted there was glass everywhere. With every step she heard the crunch under her feet. The sights of blood and death, the trampled bodies, the mangled bodies, the ones lying on the ground, hung over the banister of the stairs, hung from the broken ceiling, the ones lying over the desks as their blood poured out all over their once pristine and neat paperwork…then they flickered again, back to the moment when she realized the plane was headed straight for the building. She wasn’t in her body, _____ could see herself lifting her hand and in slow motion yell out “plane” everything was silent but she read her own lightly painted lips. _____ watched Jones turn just at the right moment and how the large window of a wall behind him literally shattered in the blink of an eye and sent both of them to the ground. From her strange observing position outside of her body she watched the rain of glass, even as pieces literally phased through her. Then…______ saw nothing. And then she did. _____ saw Jones…somewhat sitting on the floor, beginning to get up. Still everything moved in slow motion. She her hands were outstretched not far from her. (h/c) locks splayed out and covering her eyes a bit. But she heard the crack. In this memory, it was slow. But still ripped a gaping whole of instantaneous fear inside ______. Her gaze went up, following the memory to detail, now inside her own skin. The ceiling sagged and began to give way. In that moment…there was no thinking…she normally thought things through but this time…she just acted. In that moment she made the decision to use her last bit of physical strength to stand to rise from the ground, despite her bleeding leg that felt as if something had quite literally stabbed her and left the knife in her flesh. In that moment, ______ somehow propelled herself up and away, her hands slammed into Jones’ back, and he began to part from her and fly away. In slow motion, ______ watched him fall far enough to get out of harms way. She felt her lips curl into the word “Alfred”. And she was convinced she could make it. But once again, it all went dark. She felt hot. Searing. Pain. Agonizingly hot, that’s what she felt. She felt like something heavy was on her. She felt constricted and panted, having trouble breathing, ______ couldn’t get out. She could feel her hands reaching for something to grab and claw her out with but nothing worked. Her flesh was burning away with each passing moment. At the same time she could feel the life draining from her leg and from her body, like the red liquid was practically pooling out of her. She felt her vocal chords strain as she shrieked and the hot, terrified tears, slipped from the corners of her eyes. But where she was it was so hot they evaporated before they could fall. She could see again, her eyes opened, and there was only rubble around her. And fire. Fire. Blood. Scream. Pain. Help. Fire. Blood. Scream. Pain. Help. Fire, blood, scream, pain, help! FIRE. BLOOD. SCREAM. PAIN. HELP. HELP. HELP. JONES. HELP. SOMEONE. HELP!


“HELP ME!”  

______ panted uncontrollably, her chest heaving up and down as she looked around in the dark terrified. Her throat hurt, it felt hoarse. She looked around and placed a hand on her forehead.

Someone switched the lights on. The young, frightened woman blinked and looked to the sound of the click to see Arthur standing in the doorway of her bedroom, with a messy blonde bed-head, extreme worry etched into his features. His friend only stared, wide eyed. Those huge (e/c) irises filled with fear and the shadow of a burning building in her eyes. Arthur came and sat besides her on the bed, “_____...you were screaming again.”

“I-I’m sorry Arthur…the-the nightmares…” she gulped, closed her eyes for a moment, saw it all again sped up, and then opened them panicked once again, “I-I’m s-sorry…”

Arthur looked at her seriously and forced _____ to look him dead in the eye, “Every night you have these nightmares. I’m worried about you. They’re not getting any better, love. It’s been almost two months now and you still can’t control them.”

_______ pursed her lips a bit, not sure what to say and just stared at him. She’d been discharged from the hospital but the nurse she had, Skye, was worried about her about as much as Arthur was because every night, ______ was screaming and having horrible nightmares, repeating that awful day again and again in her head. Sometimes it was the moment when the plane hit. Sometimes it was the sight of all the dead inside and the panicked people trying to escape. Sometimes it was the moment when she saved Jones but found herself buried and more scared than she had ever been in her life. Sometimes it was the moment when the glass shattered over them in the lobby and she watched it rain over them, watched Jones’ face as the two shard ripped down his back, then other times it was her seeing the second plane hit. Or imagining the towers crumbling after she saw the actual footage of that. Sometimes it was even that moment in the ambulance when Jones fainted. Or strange flashes that must have been from the three days she was out of it. And then there were times where it was a combination of a few or all of these moments and they were always in slow motion, torturing her, making her relive and review and regret every moment of that day.

The memories plagued her. She was traumatized by it. Haunted.

______ looked away at her no longer heavily casted, but now lightly wrapped and braced leg. She remembered the moment when they undid the cast for the first time and she took in the sight of her mangled, scarred, leg. Tears welled into her eyes as they had at that moment, but once again, she sucked them back and looked at Arthur with a façade of strength and determination, “Arthur, I’m fine. You have nightmares too so don’t act like it’s just me.”

“Yes but mine aren’t nearly as horrid as yours, love.” He countered, but she dismissed. Arthur had been asked to stick around and watch over her until she could function on her own again. So he had been sleeping on ______’s couch in her living room for a few weeks now. Comfortably with no objections, but still…extremely worried about his friend.  Not just about her mental health but about her leg. The first time she had tried to stand again, _____ couldn’t do it. Arthur was fearful that his friend might never be able to walk properly again. That would simply crush her. Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis had been there at that moment, and even in their eyes you could see the concern and fear for their friend. But _____ was a fighter, and determined to make a comeback, even if it was impossible. Before she was discharged, Skye befriended her and gave both _____ and Arthur her personal number in case they ever needed anything.

“Alright love… please try to get some sleep.” Arthur wasn’t convinced but he didn’t want to argue with _____. She hadn’t completely faced her feelings towards that day or admitted how terrified she was openly. But that was simply _____, always trying to be strong. So he left her room and turned the lights back off. The (h/c) tried to settle back into sleep once again.

When the nightmares began again, she snapped out of sleep before she could scream once more and curled up into a ball as best as she could with the splint/brace on her leg. She ended up hugging her left leg to her chest and just sitting there, her back to a pile of pillow, unable to sleep.

Again.

When the sun finally came up, ______’s sleepy eyes lifted to look at the small glimmer of light falling through the curtains of her bedroom window. Interestingly, the light that shone through seemed too different to her. But now…ever since 9/11…_____ saw pretty much everything in a different light.

She waited, staring out to the sunshine, a million different questions wizzing through her head. The young woman wondered why the world could just…keep going…despite her inner turmoil. How could the sun come up every day and shine like the whole world is happy doo-da? It sickened her and yet awed _____ at the same time. Why did she survive? It’s not like she could get back to work…if there even was any work left for her. Why couldn’t she walk already? It wasn’t hard…and yet…it was the most difficult thing to do. _____ had to use crutches to stand and to walk, she couldn’t bend her right leg because of the splint, and even when she was in rehab and they would remove it to ask her to stretch her leg, for whatever reason, _____ struggled to do the simplest tasks. It aggravated her to a point where she would become explosive and emotionally unstable at times. She’d accidentally yell at Francis or Gil or sometimes even Arthur! Inside her own mind, this behavior frightened her when she would realize she had no control over herself. She worried her friends would become angry with her and leave her side when she needed them more than ever. But no, Antonio, Arthur, Francis, and Gilbert, refused to leave her side. _______ was never alone. And it helped some…but not enough. Arthur took care of her when she was home, but sometimes would alternate between Gilbert and Antonio. Francis would be the one to take her to rehab and help her with her exercises. But no matter the amount of kindness, support, medicine, rehab, and all the help, ______ always found herself in the same rut.

She stretched out her left leg and unstrapped the brace carefully. _____ flexed her toes, twisted the leg and it’s foot a bit, and watched how effortlessly she could do these things with her perfect, smooth, lightly scarred left leg. But when she tried to wiggle her toes on her right foot, with awkward success. But then the young woman took on the task of moving her entire leg, even move it a little, the agitation and frown lines appeared on her face. Her lips pursed tightly and then…a tear fell.

But only one.

______ silently sobbed without giving another salty drop. She sat there, hating herself, hating life. In dreams she was tormented and doomed to repeat her fears. In reality she was plagued with this inability to do the simplest tasks as walk, and an emotional instability that frightened her even more. There was no solace for the poor woman.

Eventually she stopped and sat back against the headboard of her bed again. She readjusted the brace on her leg, and regained her composure as best as she could. The (h/c) woman refused to have any of her friends see the distraught side of her. Seeing the infuriated and out of control side was enough. They would not see her cry. ______ simply could not allow herself to become that weak and vulnerable…she couldn’t… ______ wasn’t sure how long she was there, but soon enough, she heard the door creek open ever so slightly.

“Morning ______.” A soft voice with a British accent said.

Arthur helped his best friend up and about. _____ made breakfast because Arthur wasn’t allowed to cook. So with great effort, she stood with her crutches, attempting to balance her weight evenly, while cooking. Later on, Francis came over and in the comfort of ______’s apartment, they tried to do some of her leg exercises. Which led to anger and an outburst of yelling from the (h/c) woman. Arthur and Francis looked to each other worried but said nothing. Then Gilbert and Antonio appeared exuberant and excited because it was New Years Eve! But ______ knew she couldn’t go party like she had been hoping to this year. Thankfully her friends had that covered. Antonio decided to break his tradition of spending every New Years at his bar to bring the party to _____. She was touched, but said no. She didn’t want her friends to feel obligated to be stuck here with her in this small little apartment of hers. Even if _____ didn’t want to be alone.

“Frau, it’s okay! We want to be here with you!” Gilbert insisted.

Francis chimed in gently, “Besides, it’s not a party if you’re not there, _____.”

She smiled and replied, “Oh please you all got along perfectly fine before you met me. You can do it again. Besides Feliciano, Romano, and everyone else is expecting the annual party right Antonio?”

Antonio looked down but then back up to his friend, “Well yes. But chika, everyone knows and understands…”

However the young woman quickly moved to Gilbert, “And Gil, isn’t Ludwig going to be there too? You never get to see your brother anymore. You should go!” Gilbert bit his lip for a moment

“Love, we don’t want you to feel alone today. It’s New Years Eve! And we’re in New York City! This is the greatest time to be here. We-“

The anger boiled once again in _____ and she unintentionally snapped at her best friend, “Arthur would you stop it already! Thanksgiving is the time of getting together and being thankful for life, and I spent it hating life! Christmas is the ultimate holiday of family and friends and being together, how much joy did I get out of Christmas? NONE! What could New Years possibly present for me!?”

They all stared astonished and in silence. _____ stopped herself and gulped down a breath of air to try and control herself, “Please Arthur…guys…I-I just want to be alone today…”

With great hesitation, the four men did as _____ asked of them and went off to have their own lives today. So ______ sat alone in her living room for the rest of the day. She tried watching TV, playing games, using her laptop, reading, she tried a number of things but nothing seemed to work. Her mind could not be swayed or distracted from her pain, emotion, and the intense dull hopeless feeling in the back of her mind. This scary darkness slowly creeping and consuming the rest of her with each agitated, frustrating, rage quit on each pastime she attempted to do. Time just crawled for the poor woman. There was nothing to do to block out the feeling of being stationary and trapped. In the end, _____ just ended up sitting silently once again. Doing nothing but thinking and avoiding sleep. Which was extremely difficult considering how sleep deprived she was.

Hours passed like this. And then, oddly enough, there was a knock on her door. _____’s eyebrows crinkled and she became instantaneously agitated at the very thought of Arthur coming back to keep her company when she specifically told them to go enjoy this holiday. She gripped her crutch, trying to get used to using only one, and got herself up. _____ made it to the door, but wobbled a bit as she did. Her hand gripped the door knob and undid the lock before her shaking, anger filled arm threw the door open.

“ARTHUR! I told you to just leave me-“


But it wasn’t Arthur…was it?
I. Am. SO SORRY!!!! I feel so horrible I made you guys wait two more days than you needed to! And now it's more like three because it's so late! Oh please forgive me! I added in a little teaser from the next part at the very end (and the BTT actually made a beef appearance for once) to try and make up for it but I know it's not enough. I'm so sorry! 

So um…Part 4?: You shall not pass
Where id it all go wrong? Find out!: lindori-chan.deviantart.com/ar…

Hima-chan so much I owe to thee. Thank you for your lovely characters, whom I use here happily and do not own. All that I own from this is the plot and Skye. 
© 2013 - 2024 Lindori-chan
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ImmyWimmy1's avatar

OMG, dem feels! Post-trauma everywhere!!! ;w; :iconamericawhyplz:


Of course, I have a good idea who it is at the door, but I wish to keep a open mind, just in case I am wrong...


Of course, extremely well-written as always! This is so darn good, and I read it soon after I arrived home from Uni! It made for the best day EVER!!! Keep up the good work, keep looking after yourself and I look forward to seeing the next part!!! :iconamericapartyhardplz: <333