RATales Archive

Hurry Up Sky

by Frohike


It's been a long time since I've posted anything here, but I have been lurking quietly and following along. Thought I'd offer up something new. Fro

Hurry Up Sky
Author: Frohike
Email: frohike51@aol.com
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: none
Disclaimers: Alex Krycek isn't mine, but he should be. The place is real, the situation unreal, the characters and conversations fictional. Title and inspiration borrowed from Jen Chapin's song, Hurry Up Sky. Back-story and lyrics in the end notes. Lyrics reprinted without permission, but with no malice aforethought. You can listen to the song by searching out Jen Chapin on www.mp3.com or by visiting her site, www.jenchapin.com To anyone curious about the last name, Jen is Harry's daughter. Those amazing genes live on.

For Angel


Alex sifted through the rubble, listening for something, a cough, a tap, anything that would restore his hope that someone had survived. He stopped every so often to put his ear to the piles of concrete and metal, hoping that by doing so, he'd hear what others had missed. The crunching sound of approaching feet made him lift his head from the ground.

"You lose someone in there?"

"Yeah." He looked up at the young woman standing over him. "You, too?"

She knelt beside him. "My sister; she was up on 104 in the south tower." She picked up a small chunk of concrete, examined it, then tossed it off to the side. "I've been through this place more than times than I can tell you. They used to kick me out," she said, motioning toward the crews who were working to dig out the mess. "Now they don't bother."

"Did they find her?

She shook her head.

"Then how can you be sure?"

"That she's dead? Look around you, mister. It's been six weeks, do you honestly believe there's any hope?"

"There's always hope," he said quietly. Alex stood and offered his hand. "My name's Alex."

She took hold of his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. "Angie. Nice to meet you, Alex."

"If you don't have hope, why are you here?" he asked.

"Because this is the last place she was," Angie answered. "Because until we can find her remains, this is her burial ground. Coming here makes it real and makes me feel closer to her somehow."

"She must have been special."

Angie shrugged. "She was my sister."

"Tell me about her," Alex said.

Angie smiled. "What do you want to know?"

"What was she like? What was the last conversation you had with her?"

She nodded. "Carrie was a real go-getter. Bound and determined to make a difference, you know? She hated her job, but it was a means to an end. What she really wanted was to be a kindergarten teacher."

"How did she go from wanting to be a kindergarten teacher to working in the towers?

"She took the job in the towers so that she could afford to go to school. Mom and dad didn't have the money to send her, so she had to find a way to go on her own. She still lived at home, still shared a room with me, just so she could put everything she earned into her education." Angie looked off into the remains. "We were laughing the night before about a diamond ring we'd seen in a discount store. How we'd always hoped that special someone would give us an engagement ring courtesy of Wally World." She chuckled and looked back at him. "Pretty shallow and materialistic, huh?"

Alex shrugged. "You have a happy conversation to hold on to. Could be worse."

"Who'd you lose, Alex?"

"An old friend. Someone I hadn't seen in a long time."

"How do you know he was here? Or was it a she?" Angie added quickly.

"He was a firefighter," Alex answered. "One of the first to go in."

"Ladder Company 12?"

"Yeah."

"Wow. Sorry," she said, looking away.

"Last time I spoke to him was just after he'd started working for the department." Alex looked at her. "You want to know what I said to him?"

She turned back to face him. "Sure."

"I told him he was an idiot to put himself in danger for people he didn't even know." Alex shook his head. "We fought for about a half hour. I told him that I was going to be a great man, while he'd always be just a fire fighter, a nobody. Nice memory, isn't it?"

Angie reached out and touched his arm. "You couldn't have known."

"No, I couldn't have known, but I shouldn't have been such an asshole."

"We've all said things we've later come to regret," she said. "That's life." She shoved her hands in her pockets and stared at him. "So, are you that great man, Alex? Did you accomplish what you'd hoped?"

He laughed. "No, on both counts. Maybe on all three."

Angie looked puzzled. "All three?"

"Yeah, all three. I haven't accomplished anything, or at least anything positive, and I'm by no means a great man." He put his hands in his jacket pocket and lowered his head. "Standing here, looking at all of this, knowing that hundreds of men and women died to save people they'd never met. . ."

"What about it?"

He turned his head to the side and glanced at her. "It makes me realize that I still have a long way to go before I can call myself a man."

"Carrie used to say that tragedy is the world's way of teaching us for a new day. Maybe this is your new day, Alex. Maybe this is where you figure out what you're supposed to be doing and make that change."

"You think so?"

"Everything happens for a reason. Is there something you can do to make a difference in someone's life?"

Alex shrugged. "I don't know."

Angie patted him on the shoulder. "Well, I gotta go. It was nice talking to you, Alex."

"You, too, Angie."

"And don't worry, maybe you'll think of something later on."

Alex watched her walk away, his fingers brushing back and forth across the Palm Pilot in his jacket pocket. "Maybe." He pulled it out and stared at it, suddenly wanting nothing more than to smash it against the rubble. Then he remembered and put it back in his pocket with a sigh. "Or maybe not."

He turned away from the remains of the once great buildings, shoulders slumped, feeling more defeated now, than when he'd arrived an hour ago. Knowing that the true measure of a man was being able to live by the strength of his convictions and knowing that, once again, he'd failed to measure up.

End

Author's notes: Jen Chapin wrote Hurry Up Sky for a friend lost in the WTC bombing; here are her words.

"My friend Kristy Irvine Ryan was a classy and joyful woman who worked on the 104th floor of the south tower of the World Trade Center. Before she died, she was involved in a great charity serving needy families called Secret Smiles, Inc. www.secretsmiles.org which carries on with renewed purpose in her memory. During that time in the fall of 2001, there was an eagerness to have the distance of time increase between that day and us. But there is also a desire to hold onto the lessons."

I've been carrying this song and those words around with me for over a year now, knowing that I needed to do something with them, but not knowing what. I did know that I wanted Alex involved. Alex Krycek is so often portrayed as evil, that I thought this situation might lend itself well to showing his more human side. No redemption here, just a glimmer of hope for his potential.

Hurry Up Sky
Jen Chapin
Purple Chair Music (ASCAP) 2001

once we had laughed about a discount store and a diamond ring back when
a flame was a friend--a comfort, a delicate dancing thing back when my
window held a shelter of sky
and we would watch the planes go by
please hurry us back to that sweet time

hurry up time speed us away
to the day when the sky doesn't rain with the why and the pain hurry up
sky carry them home then carry our eyes to your blue and your calm and
away from
that one black cloud
hurry hurry up now

once we were strangers bumping past other lives in a focused fog now all
our stories have melted into two vivid hours maybe we're better now --
stronger, with a deeper soul
and we'll be whole again in a different way
and this time will teach for a new day

hurry up time speed us away
to the day when the sky doesn't rain with the why and the pain hurry up
sky carry them home then carry our eyes to your blue and your calm and
away from
that one black cloud
hurry hurry up now