3001-9-11, New New York City
Fry was barely conscious of the figure shaking his shoulder. He curled deeper into his covers. “I don’t wanna go to school today,” he mumbled.
“Wake up, Fry,” he heard, and rolled over to see Amy at his bedside. Was he still groggy, or were her eyes red?
“The newsoh God, it’s horrible,” she sniffed and turned away. A confused Fry stumbled out of bed and followed Amy into the living room. Hermes, Zoidberg, Bender, and Farnsworth were staring at the TV. The sky seemed oddly dark outside.
“What happened?” Fry asked.
Zoidberg turned towards him, eyes glassier than usual. “It happened about ten minutes ago. A plane hit the first tower of the New World Trade Center.”
“What the-?” The young man took a look at the TV and sure enough, there was a huge plume of smoke coming from the tower. “Was it an accident? Is it a helicopter or something?”
“We don’t know. Can’t you see the smoke from downtown? It’s horrible.” Amy covered her face and sobbed, and Benderput an arm around her shoulder? That was the first act of empathy Fry had seen in him sincewell, since ever.
He thought briefly and then asked, “Hey, where’s Leela?”
“We don’t know, she was already gone when we woke up,” said Farnsworth.
“You don’t think- my God!” Fry turned quickly and fled from the headquarters before anyone could stop him.
“Come back here!” Farnsworth called too late. “That darn fool, still in his pajamas.”
“He’s got a point, Professor,” Hermes said and went to follow the young man.
Bender looked back at the TV. “Holy crap, the second tower just got hit!”
Amy continued sobbing.