Verne does 9/11

RJ stared wistfully outside the window beside his desk, giving his paws a break from typing. He worked on the top floor of the North Tower at the World Trade Center. The one thing he liked about his job was the view. He enjoyed watching the sunrise over the vast New York City Scape, it made him feel like all the poor life choices he'd ever made were insignificant.

RJ sighed deeply and took another sip of coffee. It wasn't enough to numb the pain. Glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching, he swiftly uncapped a small plastic bottle of vodka and dumped the liquid into his coffee. He took a sip and fell back into his chair. It was
Only 8:10 in the morning, and already he couldn't wait to go home where a cabinet stocked with vodka and instant noodles waited for him. That, and Family Guy re-runs, were all RJ had to look forward to.

The raccoon felt the caffeine begin to buzz through his veins, propelling him to get back to his computer. The work was tedious that morning, data entry mostly, but RJ almost preferred it that way. The days he could just unfocus his mind and pretend he was somewhere else were the best.

He found his mind wandering back to the forest in Indiana with all his old friends: Hammy, Stella, Vincent, Heather, Dwayne, and...Verne. They had a good life together, well, they did...before the accident. Before Hammy died and tore the family apart. Before RJ started drinking. Before he made the worst mistake of his life; cheating on his fiance, Verne the turtle. Before the middle-aged raccoon packed up his life and moved to New York to become a Data analyst.

RJ was so lost in thought he almost didn't notice the deafening roar of metal on metal that shattered the tranquility of the morning. The tower shuddered violently, sending papers flying and computer monitors crashing to the ground. Panic surged through RJ's veins as he struggled to keep his balance. In a state of shock, he stumbled towards the window. Through the thick haze of smoke and debris, he could just barely make out the twisted remains of an airplane embedded in the side of the tower.

"Fuck!" he muttered to himself. "Shit! Fuck!"

He began to look around for any sign of escape, but it seemed fruitless. The stairs were blocked by a fallen beam, and he didn't dare take the elevator. RJ began to sink into despair as his coworkers devolved into chaos.

"I'm sorry baby," the single mother with four children said through tears, her cell phone pressed tightly to her ears, "I won't be home tonight. I love you."

RJ watched in horror as one of his other coworkers, a recovering crack addict who had just gotten his life back, tripped over a faulty electrical line and set himself on fire.

RJ decided if he was gonna go, he was gonna go on his own terms.

He carried himself with surprising confidence towards the window he had been gazing out of just minutes ago. The pane was cracked and broken now, and RJ teetered on the window sill. He stared down at the mayhem below, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting himself fall, arms outstretched.

RJ felt a reptilian hand wrap around his wrist, catching his fall. The obnoxiously grating voice was unmistakable. Verne.

"Don't think you're getting out of this that easy," he hissed.

The turtle swung RJ up by his arm, letting the raccoon latch onto his shell as he scaled the side of the building. Verne reached the top of the tower and RJ collapsed onto the steel, gasping.

"Verne!" RJ screamed. "How are you here?"

Verne didn't answer. He wound up the grappling hook, back turned to his ex-fiance.

"Verne, answer me. Why did you save me?" Rj repeated, struggling and failing to stand. His legs were shaky and the wind tore through his tiny body.

Verne chuckled, "save you? Who said I'm here to save you?" He cocked his head, and slid a machete out of his shell. The sunlight reflected off the steel of the blade.

RJ froze in terror. How did Verne know to be here when the plane crashed? And if the turtle wasn't here to save anyone, then that must mean...Verne was the one who had been flying the plane.

"Why? Why would you do this?" Rj cried, his voice hoarse.

"Why? WHY?" Verne bellowed. "I did this because of you! You cheated on me Rj, you did this!"

"No..." Rj shook his head in disbelief. "It wasn't my fault."

"What wasn't you're fault, RJ?!" Verne hollered, lunging towards the raccoon and pressing the machete close to his throat. "You were the one who crashed the wagon and let Hammy die. You were the one who turned to drinking to cope. And YOU were the one I caught fucking a younger turtle. You drove me to this."

"I... I didn't mean for any of that to happen," RJ stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I never wanted to hurt you, Verne. I was lost, I made mistakes, but I never wanted this."

Verne's eyes blazed with fury, his grip on the machete tightening. "Words won't change what you've done, RJ. You destroyed everything we had. You destroyed us."

Tears welled up in RJ's eyes as he pleaded with Verne, begging for mercy, for understanding. But Verne's resolve seemed unshakeable, his anger consuming him.

With a cold, calculated expression, Verne raised the machete, ready to deliver a final blow. RJ closed his eyes, bracing for the inevitable.

But before Verne could strike, a sudden gust of wind rocked the tower, causing both of them to lose their balance. With a desperate cry, they tumbled off the edge, plummeting towards the ground below.

As they fell, time seemed to slow down. RJ's mind raced with regret, with memories of happier times with Verne. He wished he could turn back time, undo the mistakes that had led them to this moment.

But it was too late.