Third—person P.O.V
Silence is said to bring solace, but when it follows the deafening sound of disaster all it brings is sorrow and suffering.
...
The rustling of the wood planks as the flams of the blast turn them to ashes matches with that of the morning winds blowing through the leaves of the encompassing trees who stand witness to the travesty that has engulfed the entire Santos family.
The heat from the burning mansion imbues the cool morning air with the haunting scent of destruction.
With blaring of sirens and screeching tires, two fire trucks and a hand full of cop cars, and three ambulances pull up to the scene momentarily.
The hissing of water leaving the hose under extreme pressure is the only audible noise in the dead silent vicinity for the next couple of minutes as the smell of burning wood and clouds of crushed—up concrete is thick in the air.
Men sporting heavy fire—resistant wear march into the ruins of a structure bravely as adrenaline fuels their every cautious step.
They push past fallen walls and duck past blowing flames of red hot fire.
"There's someone here." A firefighter howlers to her companions as she pushes past the barrier of wood compressing the person under its weight.
"Found someone here as well," another calls out.
"Three more this side!"
In swift urgency—fueled moves, they pull get to work, and try freeing the victims of the blast by digging through the endless amounts of concrete, wood, and glass shards just to see a bit of flash tinted with black grainy ashes.
"Can I get some help here?" The first firefighter calls out when she sees the victim's leg caught under a fallen pillar.
Three other firemen come to her aid and together they somehow manage to lift the pillar off the young boy's leg with great difficulty.
"He's alive, we need to get him medical help," the firefighter rushes her words while lifting the weight of the bulky eighteen—year—old by herself while one of the other three stays behind to help her and the other two rush to help their companions.
"I'll take him, you clear the way," her colleague and senior orders to which she complies moving Jack's weight onto him and making sure that they have a clear exit out of the demolishing mansion.
They rush him to medical care, before diving back into the burning structure to search for more survivors.
Just as they enter, they spot two of their colleagues dragging two more unconscious bodies out.
"How many people were estimated to be in the building when the blast occurred?" Her senior asks.
"Around seven Sargent." Ducking down another fallen column swinging lightly from the ceiling——or whatever is left of it——she replies.
"We have three out, let's search find the rest," he asserts just when a moving figure flashes in his peripheral vision.
Being quick on his feet, he follows his instincts and makes his way towards the other side of the entrance where the once front door lays detached at an angle.
The thick mahogany door shields two victims under its unhinged form.
Wasting no time the two firefighters grabs a side of the door each and with their efforts joined in unions they can get it to move dumping it to another side as its weight starts to get the better of them.
Shocked to see none other than the city's most feared man laying there, their astonishment multiples ten folds when they realize he's shielding another person under him while his back bore the weight of the door.
Pulling themselves out of their temporary paralysis they get back into action.
"Get her out of here first," Xavier demands, his voice stoic as blood trickles down his ash—stained face.
"Maria is helping her, we need to get you out of here as well," the Sargent replies while attempting to help him off his feet again.
"No, I can wait she needs medical attention——" a cough makes its way to his lips cutting him off.
"She's has inhaled too much smoke," he adds, his eyes still trained on his Irmãzinha.
"We are working on getting both of you out of here, Mr. Santos this structure won't hold much longer," Maria——the other firefighter——replies hastily, balancing the weight of an unconscious Astoria, as she starts to make her way towards the exit.
Xavier opens his mouth to protest yet again, my the crumbling pieces of concrete that tumble down from the ceiling cut him and his protest off.
Crossing several fallen pillars and walls Astoria being unconscious starts to pose its obstacles. As managing the weight of a healthy fifteen—year—old while avoiding stay flames and falling structure by a single probationary firefighter is arguable difficult.
"You help her, I can walk," Xavier commands witnessing the struggles of the younger firefighter, but mostly worried about his sister's safety.
"Are you sure?" The Sergeant asks the undertone of fear audible in his voice, while still assessing Xavier through the fragile passage.
"Yeah," Xavier says before lifting his entire weight back on his feet. He stumbles at first but is quick to gain equilibrium.
The Sergeant follows through with his demands and in a swift move lifts Astoria off her feet and proceeds to make his way out of the falling mansion at a quick pace closely followed by the other two.
Reaching the exit a few of their colleagues are quick to come to their aid, while the fresh air blowing outside makes its way into Astoria's lungs resulting in her coughing frantically.
"Where is the rest of my family," Xavier demands, his protective instincts towards his family rising to a new high.
"They are already en route to the hospital," Sargent replies while tentatively urging him towards the only sole ambulance still parked at the compound.
Loading them in the ambulance with its sirens blaring zooms down the freeway while the paramedics assess the level of injuries sustained by the brother and sister.
As they approach the hospital Astoria slowly starts to gain consciousness. Xavier lying on top of her made sure that no much physical harm came her way while enduring most of it himself.
All she has to her account is minimal bruising to her arms and temple, a mild concussion, and a mental trauma enough to haunt her a lifetime.
Clinging on to the first familiar face she sees, she doesn't question anything as a deafening beep rings through her ears and her voice is lost in the deeps of her throat.
Clutching Xavier's hand she is wheeled into the hospital——while he refuses to sit and insists on walking against medical advice.
Once both of them are give a thorough by one of Seb's colleges and trusted member of the Brazilian mafia family, Astoria is shifted to an overnight room with Xavier refusing to be put under 'bed arrest' without an update on their others.
But he soon realizes his mistake when follows quickly Astoria and in silent protest refuses to hear anything the doctor has to say without knowing how the rest are doing.
Xavier tries to dismiss her with a stern tone, but that does little to nothing to make her reconsider.
Sighing while regarding his words they are permitted to wait in the waiting room beside the OR, when they are informed that Jason and their father are undergoing surgery at the moment while the rest continue to remain unconscious, but are stable.
A good seventy minutes into their wait, no words are exchanged as trepidation continues to built up as the seconds tick by with no update.
Astoria buries her head into Xavier's chest while coaching her mind not to let those salty rives stream down her cheeks while he strokes her hair trying to offer some comfort.
When the doors of the OR so do Astoria's eyes as her neck snaps in its direction.
Two doctors dressed in blue scrubs walk out and after and towards them after confirming that they are the Santos.
"The surgery initially went well, but at the end there were some unforeseeable complications——"
"Just get to the point doctor," Xavier snaps while Astoria tried her best to pull up an impassive expression to mirror that of her brother's.
"I'm sorry but we couldn't save your..."
