A/N: I have returned from the abysmal hell, known as school. This is a really, really old piece from a few years back that I literally did not feel like finishing nor researching about. But! Obviously I have all the time now to write something. I'm bored and I think I'd like some feedback on my writing. Though I may be no history buff you are free to roast me. And FYI, I have no idea of what I am doing.

But anyway, I called this "Firefighter AU." I think the idea was something along the lines of James being a bit passionate for firefighting, since I read about firefighting somewhere. So here is my brain vomit of that concept.


He thought he would hear the bells first. But no, he heard a faint yelling. And when he woke to the word "fire" he automatically sat up. Sighing, he immediately he rose to his aching feet and, after grabbing a coat and putting on a pair of worn boots, James left his room for the night, emerging to see that no one nearby had yet entered the street. He looked about and saw a fire raging a block down, and ran.

He slowed to a jog and coughed a bit as he neared the commotion."How can I help?" James breathlessly asked when he reached the small group of men organizing to minimize the spread. Part of him felt excited at the scene. A few began struggling with the water pump, aiming the water at one house entirely consumed by fire. To its left laid the embers of a fallen home, and on its right a home whose roof caught wind of the flames. Some survivors covered in soot were helped out to safety. However, all in all, there did not seem to be substantial help. At least not yet.

One of the men - who he recognized as a shopkeeper named Mr. Jensen - approached him, followed by a younger fellow. Each wore a muffler. "James! Praise God you heard. I need someone to see to that house there, immediately." He pointed to the home with the roof on fire. "No one has come out of it and the roof appears it's about to collapse. Go with my son Eli. And take these," he handed them each a burlap bag, and then Mr. Jensen gave James his muffler. "If you have time to salvage any valuables to return to the owners. Do not do so until the home lays completely evacuated by all persons."

James nodded, as if he'd done this before. (Only a few times.)

"And be careful."

As he and Eli approached the burning home the heat seemed to radiate powerfully. It made James almost forget that it was late autumn. He began knocking on the door relentlessly as Eli raised his voice, asking if anyone was home. When no one answered, Eli told James, "We have to break the door."

So James stood back and kicked the door down. Smoke came billowing out and a hot gush of air blew in his face.

Oh no.

The pair adjusted their mufflers over their noses. It seems the fire spread faster than anticipated and they stormed in to find anyone they could. Luckily, the second floor hadn't entirely collapsed and they stayed low as they entered.

Then they heard a fit of coughing. "Over there," Eli pointed to a hallway. Among the smoke was a figure hunched over and grasping a wall. The two strode to the silhouette, dodging falling debris. "Hello?"

"Wh-Who is there?" A scratchy, English voice replied. A woman looked up with irritated eyes.

Eli approached and helped her up. "Ma'am, we are here to assist you. We will see that we shall do our best for your safety and belongings."

"Oh, thank you," said the tired woman. Her reddish-brown hair seemed to flare and give a look of pure disorientation. "Is my daughter safe?"

"Your... daughter, ma'am?" James asked, confused.

The woman grabbed onto them and pleaded, "Oh, please, make sure my dear Sarah is safe! She must still be upstairs!"

James gave a concerned look to Eli, then to the woman he said, "I'll find her. Eli?"

"I can escort her out. Don't be rash while I'm gone."

Glancing around through his watery vision, James went through another hallway, searching for a staircase. He found burnt bookcases and the kitchen seemed beyond repairable. The fire ate away at the paintings on the walls. He realized he must work fast; the smoke began to take a toll on him and would kill him first if the fire didn't. But where in blazes was the way to the second floor? Was this daughter a lost, little girl? Would the daughter still remain alive if she hadn't left by now, when it was the roof that burned first?

Find her, James reminded himself. Dead or alive, you should find her.

An audible voice in the midst of the crackling fires stopped his frantic searching.

"Mother? Hello?"

He strained his ears. Where did the voice echo from? Maybe near the back... to the left? He followed the sound of the voice, peering, and felt relief in finding a staircase.

Or, what's left of it, anyway.

The fire had burned away most of the bottom portion of the stairs. At the top of the steps sat another red-headed girl not much older than James. She curled by the corner under a blown-out window and covered her mouth with a hand, her nightgown ruined in ash and soot. Coughing unceasingly, she failed to notice him.

"Sarah!" he called. She had to be the daughter. It was strange though; he expected to find a little child, but she was far from little. "Can you hear me?"

The girl opened her eyes with great pain. "Yes... Where's my mother?" Another cough. "Who are you?"

"Your mother is safe. Are you hurt?" Sarah shook her head even as her face strained in the smoky haze. "I'm here to help. Is there another way down for you?"

"No, only down here." She motioned to the lost stairs. James frowned and looked about. Well, he didn't want her jumping out the window.

Then, an idea came. She was a bit far up (maybe ten or twelve feet?), but it was possible.

Yeah, it could work.

"You have to jump!" he hollered. "Jump down!"

"What? No, it's too great a height," she retorted, reluctant. "We'll think of an alternative! A rope, or-"

"Jump! We don't have much time. I'll catch you!" James saw Sarah's hesitation and he silently cursed as he heard more of the roof cracking apart. Dropping the burlap bag, he outstretched his arms towards her, not caring if they broke. "I promise you'll be alright. I promise."

"I-"

The house creaked and from up above, a loud crack caught Sarah's attention and her eyes widened as she saw the blazing roof shifting to crumble. In a matter of minutes the roof above her head would give way. She bit her lip; she had to do it, or she'd die.

So without another thought she leapt, and the moment she jumped off, the structure above immediately fell through and demolished the rest of the staircase.

Sarah crashed into James more than being caught by him. One of the floorboards broke under James's foot when he tried to catch her, causing him to yelp. The two then recovered from the fall and James slung one of Sarah's arms around his shoulders to help her up. But as he stood and pulled his foot out from the floor, more pain shot through his leg and he stumbled.

Noticing this, Sarah instead moved to support James and they quickly escaped.

"Oh, my dear!" Sarah's mother cried out between coughs as Sarah and James appeared out of the house, the latter limping. The rest of the structure to fell apart at last. Sarah ran as best as she could to her mother and embraced her while James staggered behind, all his weight on one leg.

"You're alive," Sarah breathed in relief. James pulled down the muffler to breath in fresh air. He too coughed, but smiled at the reunion.

The mother then said to James, "Thank you, young man." Though he wished to reply his coughing worsened and he managed a mere nod.

"Mother, I think he injured his leg," Sarah informed. The last of her coughs dwindling away, Sarah approached James. "Is your ankle alright?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine," he rasped, coughing more. Now that his job was done, he felt the need to move on helping with other things. "It's sprained but I can-" I can take care of myself, he wanted to say. But out of nowhere, a coughing fit seized him and his chest ached. He coughed into his arm for what seemed like forever. The next thing he knew, he couldn't breathe.

No, not this again, he thought in annoyance as he wheezed. The pain was familiar and he shut his eyes, clutching his chest. He waited for the pain to pass. Worried voices tried to grasp his attention. A hand laid on his shoulder.

"Something's wrong. Mother, he, he's not breathing-"

"Perhaps lay him down for a bit- no, he's going to fall over-"

He attempted in vain to focus and open his eyes. And soon enough, the world around James disappeared and he remembered nothing as darkness overtook his vision.


A/N: Review? :)

A/A/N: Bruh, I finished reading Forge by Laurie Halse Anderson because apparently 11-year-old me never knew it was a trilogy, and boy did I have a blast.