Chapter 1 – Another Day on the Job

Bellamy POV

Was he crazy for wanting this life?

Bellamy asked that question almost on a daily basis when he showed up to work. Seriously, what person in their right mind wants to run towards the burning building rather than away from it? But it was all he ever wanted. It helped that he worked in one of the best fire houses in California, with mates who always had his back. That didn't make the job any easier though, especially when they got there too late. Every time they went out on a call, Bellamy sent the universe a silent prayer that they'll save everyone. He didn't even believe in a God, but it somehow helped. This time was no different.

As the sirens blared, they all piled into the truck, heading to a fire at an art studio near Stanford University. No one could bring themselves to speak on the journey there. Bellamy has worked with these guys long enough to know that they're preparing themselves for what lies ahead, and for what they might find.

"Shit," muttered John Murphy. He's the only one to say anything when they arrived at the fire, though everyone could see the same thing he could. It wasn't just an art studio that was on fire, but there were a few apartments above it too that could be full of smoke. Or worse. Fires like this rarely have a happy ending. Someone is usually too far gone to be saved. To make matters worse, it was a Saturday, meaning more people at home rather than at work. There could be children… Shit is right.

They pulled up right in front of the building, people spilling out onto the footpath. Bellamy jumped out of the truck, the others quickly following suit, grabbing equipment as they went.

"Okay, Murphy, you clear these people away from the building, and get them looked at by the paramedics. Then set up a perimeter. We don't need anyone rushing in trying to be a hero" Murphy nodded and jogged toward the nearest people, ushering them away from the building.

"Miller, Wick, Lincoln, you're with me. We're gonna do a quick sweep of the building to make sure everyone is out before we put out this fire. The rest of you, stay alert, this building can go at any minute and we don't want to be in there when it happens." Bellamy looked at each of them in turn to make sure they were on the same page. There was a chorus of "Yes, Lieutenant," in response.

Putting his mask on, Bellamy turned towards the building and headed in first, like always. It was clear that the fire had started in the studio; it was well alight when they walked in. Bellamy signalled for Lincoln and Wick to check out the art studio, and for Miller to follow him to check the apartments. The fire had made it to the upper levels as well, but it wasn't as bad as the studio, it was mostly smoke making visibility crappy. Sweeping though the building, the first and second apartments were both clear. Bellamy was shocked; how was there no one inside? What if they had missed someone in their haste…Lincoln's voice suddenly filtered over the radio, cutting off Bellamy's rampant thoughts.

"Lieutenant, the studio is clear; do you want us up there with you?"

Bellamy held down the button of the radio and replied, "No, wait outside, Miller and I only have one apartment left to search"

"Copy that, Lieutenant"

The flames were really starting to take over the apartments too. Bellamy looked over at Miller, "One minute, and then we're out." He nodded, probably thinking the same thing Bellamy was. If they don't get out of there soon, they might not get out at all. Bellamy began to sweep through his half of the rooms with some difficulty, as the smoke had well and truly filled the apartment. He called out over the roar of the fire, to see if anyone can hear him, but got no reply. How lucky would they be to find no one in the entire building, it was practically unheard of in a place this nice. If it was a condemned building, it would be understandable. Bellamy made it to the final room in his sector; a bathroom, and on the floor was a blonde girl, curled up in the foetal position and unconscious. She couldn't have been much younger than Bellamy, maybe 20? The same age as his sister. He could almost picture Octavia being the one lying at his feet, except the shock of blonde hair was too strong to make the image of his sister stick, luckily for him. Fear griped Bellamy's stomach regardless; he knew this call was too good to be true. But something caught his eye. The subtle rise and fall of the girl's back. A sense of relief flooded him; she's still alive. Bellamy took off his oxygen mask and went to put it on her face, but as he moved her, he could see that she was using her body to protect a younger girl. A child, no more than 12 years old.

"Oh shit" Bellamy muttered, reaching for his radio, "Miller, I've found two patients, both unconscious, get over here" He lifted the blonde girl into a sitting position and finished putting his mask over her face. She seemed to be in the more critical condition out of the two girls, as the younger one had a damp cloth covering her mouth and nose, protecting her from some of the smoke. Did the blonde do this? Surely the younger one wouldn't have thought to do that on her own. But then why didn't she make one for herself? He looked around the room, but it was bare. Strange to not have any towels or something in a bathroom...

Miller rushed in at that moment, assessed the situation, and straight away went to the little girl to try and wake her. She blinks her eyes open.

"I finished my half of the apartment, I didn't find anyone else. Maybe the other girl is her babysitter." Miller looked toward Bellamy and the blonde girl he was still holding. As the younger girl became more alert, she looked down at the blonde, eyes growing wide with panic.

"Miller, get her out of here," Miller hesitates, probably wanting to see if he'd need help with the blonde, "Now, Miller!" At that, he heads out of the room. Bellamy still couldn't wrap his head around the situation, something was off. There was one thing he did know, however; if there was anyone else left in this building, it would be too late to save them. Hell, at this point, it may be too late to save themselves. He picked up the blonde, who seemed to be breathing a little easier with the mask on. This created a whole new conundrum, because without it, he would be in some trouble. The smoke is getting thicker and the flames are spreading more by the second, so he couldn't wait any longer and make a plan of escape. Instead Bellamy rushed out of the bathroom and out of the apartment carrying the girl in his arms, trying to protect her from the flames the best he could. Descending the stairs was getting harder and harder each landing he made it to, his lungs were filling with smoke, his limbs increasingly feeling like lead. At the final landing, Bellamy was exhausted, and finding it practically impossible to breathe through the smoke. He looked down at the blonde girl in his arms, almost like a silent apology for not being able to get her out of there. God she is beautiful, Bellamy thought, but then he shook his head. You can't think like that while on a job, hypoxia must be setting in or something, not enough oxygen was getting to his brain. No wonder they weren't gonna make it out of there... Just as he was finishing that thought, Bellamy felt a cool breeze wash over him. By some miracle, while in his delirious state, he made it out the front door and was out on the street. He placed the girl on an awaiting stretcher as gently as he could, and brushed a golden strand of hair off her face as she was moved to the nearest ambulance. She was safe.

As soon as she was gone from his view, Bellamy doubled over and coughed black phlegm off his lungs, his breathing laboured. A paramedic rushed over to him, trying to get him into an ambulance where the oxygen is, but Bellamy immediately brushed her off. Well, tried to anyway, Lincoln had other ideas. He grabbed Bellamy by the upper arm and dragged him to an ambulance.

"Don't be an idiot, Bellamy. How long were you in there without your mask on? You need to go to hospital to be checked out for smoke inhalation." He gave me an exasperated, but concerned look. Bellamy tried to argue, but before he could say a word, the coughing started again. Lincoln shook his head, "I'll strap you down if I have to. You may be a lieutenant, but that doesn't make you invincible or, apparently, any less of a dumbass. Honestly you could have died in there". As if to prove his point, the sound of the water hoses and frenzied firefighters reached his ears. He knew better than to argue, mainly because Lincoln was right, not that he'd ever admit it. Bellamy lay down in the ambulance, and an oxygen mask was placed over his face. Bellamy closed his eyes, pleasantly surprised to see the face of the blonde girl printed on the back of his eyelids. He couldn't help but think that she looked like an angel who had fallen to earth in a blaze of glory. A smirk pulled at his lips at the thought, why did his thoughts always go back to fire?

A/N: Hi guys, so I'm back writing again! I don't know where this story came from, it just popped into my head and I had to write it. I plan on writing some more chapters soon, but knowing me, some may take a while, depending on when inspiration strikes. All chapters will be from either Bellamy or Clarke's perspective, and there might be some overlap so we get to see how both of them feel in a certain situation. It may change mid chapter, but I will always put who's perspective it is at any one time. So I published this chapter earlier and then took it down because it was really, really bad. So hopefully it is a little better now. Let me know what you think of this initial chapter, any and all feedback is welcome. The writing will hopefully get better in future chapters, I'm a bit rusty. Also, since I'm Australian, some of the spelling may be a little weird for any American readers, and I'm not familiar with the California, or America in general, so if you find that I've misspoken about a place and can offer some feedback to make it more accurate, I would be extremely grateful.