When I Only Wanted to Save the World

Chapter 1

Alfred Jones was not there when the world crumbled, when the twin towers collapsed – but he was there in the aftermath, in the rubble, pulling out the wounded and the dead and the dying. He would never forget those endless days, his face streaked with soot, his hands rubbed raw from pulling at the torn and twisted metal, his eyes filled with bleak visions of more wounded than he had ever seen before in his employ as a firefighter. He was one of the first ones there and he was one of the last ones to leave. The last day out of those countless days, that should have been when the rubble collapsed, fracturing his hip in two places and scarring his leg almost beyond recognition. But it wasn't. That day came four months later during a perfectly normal operation. The roof was unstable, he took a risk, and he paid for it.

By all rights, the accident should have put him out of a job for over year, but here he was, three months later, sitting at a desk – or rather, lounging near one. When his boss had called him up three weeks before with the offer of a temporary job doing paperwork for the station, Alfred had jumped at the chance to have something to do. It was hardly firefighting, but it had been better than sitting at home. Alfred shifted his leg in its propped-up position and sighed. Unfortunately, the thill had worn off quickly. He was dying of boredom.

He gripped one of the crutches leaning against his desk chair and began to tap it idly against the floor. Tap, tap, tap. He could see Lovino gritting his teeth behind a computer nearby, but he didn't let up. Tap, tap, tap– The door swung open and he looked up.

"Ludwig!" cried Feliciano enthusiastically, swinging around in his desk chair and clearly dying to leap out of it. Lovino's hand jerked at the exclamation and he swore loudly as he deleted whatever he had been working on.

Alfred grinned. "What's up, boss?"

Ludwig frowned, trying to ignore Feliciano. "Alfred, where is the report I requested two weeks ago?"

"Oh, probably in there," Alfred said with a sheepish smile. He gestured towards his desk with his crutch. Ludwig's eyes followed the motion to a stack of papers, which had clearly been accumulating for quite some time. He stared at it, and Alfred wondered if he was really going to get into trouble this time, but then Ludwig relaxed and let out a sigh. That was certainly one of the advantages of getting a new job with the same boss; he could get away with a lot more than he would have been able to otherwise.

"And why, exactly, is it still not completed?" Ludwig asked wearily.

"Sorry. It's just hard to concentrate, what with, you know."

"And what would help you concentrate?"

"A vacation?" Alfred asked with a cheeky grin.

"A vacation." Ludwig frowned in thought. He seemed to be considering the idea seriously.

"That would be a nice thing for you to do for Alfred," Feliciano chirped up.

Ludwig turned a little pink. "We'll see," he said gruffly. He turned to leave. "Oh, and really Alfred, I need that report." The door swung shut behind him.

The next day, when Alfred came into the office, there was a letter lying on his desk. Inside were two plane tickets and a post-it note.

Alfred,
We'll pay for your tickets if you pay for your lodgings. If the trip is too long or conflicts with any doctor appointments, let us know.
–Kiku

Alfred smiled a little; Kiku, who was in charge of expenses, was always looking out for him. He examined the tickets. They were business class, which made him grin. He would never have been able to fly that nicely if he had been paying for the flight himself. He looked at the dates on the tickets. The trip would be two weeks long, so he would get back about just before his doctor had said he might be able to begin walking with a cane. He glanced at the location, expecting to see Hawaii, and did a double-take.

He was going to England.

The next week passed in a blur, and before he knew it Alfred was waiting for his flight in the JFK International airport. He had had to repack his luggage twice so that it complied to the new travel standards and his carry-on toothpaste had been confined to a ziplock plastic bag along with his Chapstick, but he was extremely excited. He hadn't traveled in ages, and he was secretly hoping that he would set off the metal detector with the metal pins that were now holding his hip together. (Unfortunately, the metal detector remained silent as he hobbled through it.) The flight seemed to take three times longer than it should have, but it passed without incident, and he took his first step on English soil at 3 o'clock in the afternoon.

The lady at the front desk of the hotel he was staying at was very nice, and he immediately delighted in her accent. After flirting meaninglessly for a few minutes, he got the key to his room and hauled himself up two flights of stairs. He had to stop frequently, and he was extremely grateful that there was no one else to witness his slow progress.

He spent the rest of the day relaxing in his room. He fell asleep unusually early, and woke up unusually late the next morning. He took a shower and then went downstairs (which turned out to be distinctly more difficult than going up). He entered the small dining room, which was really just part of the lobby, and saw that breakfast was set up buffet-style along one wall. He around looked curiously at the other guests. A blond man wearing a sweater vest was sitting nearby, a cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other. To one side sat a woman with a young child. A young couple sat in the back; the man had neatly-combed dark hair and wore glasses, while the woman had long, light brown hair with a flower clip in it. They appeared to be arguing. A family of four was sitting near them against the window, and they were talking loudly. (Clearly there was at least one other group of tourists there, he decided.)

"May I help you, sir?" asked the man suddenly standing at his side.

"Oh, yeah. Do you serve lunch and dinner like this too? Because this looks awesome." Alfred grinned.

There was a clatter nearby and someone swore quietly. Alfred looked up briefly. Mr. Sweater Vest had spilled his tea on himself.

"No sir, we do not serve lunch or dinner."

"Oh, that sucks. Oh well. Thanks though." The man nodded and disappeared. Alfred made his way over to the buffet table, took a plate, and began to fill it with pastries and bacon while balancing precariously on one leg. He managed to balance a cup of coffee in one corner of his plate, and he looked around for a place to sit. He didn't want to sit alone, but sitting with the single woman seemed like a bad move, and everyone else was occupied. His eyes passed over Mr. Sweater Vest at first, but then he came back to him. He was still reading, but that didn't mean anything, right? Alfred hopped over on one foot, trying desperately to not spill anything. He came to a stop in front of him. "Can I join you?"

The man looked up and clear green eyes met Alfred's own. Alfred blinked. They were very pretty, emphasized nicely by a pair of significantly large eyebrows. These quickly moved downwards as the man scowled at him slightly in annoyance. "What?"

"Can I sit here?" Alfred tried to not look too pathetic, balanced precariously as he was, but the other man's eyes immediately noticed the crutch under his arm and the awkward way he was holding the plate.

"Oh. Right. Yes." He stood up and took the plate carefully from Alfred, who smiled gratefully. Alfred hobbled back over to the buffet to reclaim his other crutch, and when he returned the other man had set down his plate and coffee cup and was once again reading his book. After some effort and rearranging of his crutches, Alfred managed to sit down. The man, despite continuing to hold the book in front of his face, had clearly been watching all this. When Alfred looked at him with a smile, however, his eyes quickly darted back to his book. If Alfred hadn't known better, he might have said that there was even a slight flush to his cheeks that hadn't been there before.

Alfred dug in enthusiastically and the other man did his best to ignore him. "S'why are you here?" Alfred asked around a mouthful of food. "Are you a tourist too?"

The man gave Alfred a look over the top of his book. "Do I look like a tourist to you?"

Alfred shrugged. "You certainly don't sound like one. Do you live here, then?"

"I do not live in London, no."

"Visiting relatives?"

He continued to stare determinedly at his book. "No. I'm here on business."

"Gotchya." There was a brief moment of silence as Alfred wolfed down a small pastry filled with jelly. The other man watched him over the top of his book.

"Are you here to recover?"

Alfred looked up. "Huh? Oh, the leg. Yeah." He grinned. "I'm out of commission for a while no matter what, so might as well spend it someplace nice, right?"

"London isn't most Americans' first choice." Alfred couldn't tell whether he was happy or unhappy about that.

"Why not? We both speak English, right?"

"Barely," he muttered, and returned to his book.

Alfred ate in silence for a moment. He suddenly felt something vibrating in his pocket and he pulled out his phone. Feliciano Vargas, it said. He flicked it open. "Hey," he said, and was immediately greeted by Feli's excited babbling. Alfred saw that the man was glaring at him over the top of his book, and Alfred hurriedly mouthed, "Sorry, be right back." He grabbed one of his crutches and hobbled over to a corner of the room.

"How was the flight?" Feliciano asked, sounding a little concerned. "Did they feed you good food? Is your leg okay? Did you find the hotel? Are you in a lot of pain?"

Alfred chuckled. "Yes, the plane ride was fine, the food was fine, the hotel's fine. Really, I'm okay. My leg is hardly hurting at all."

Feli sighed in a relieved-sounding way. "I'm glad to hear it. It's strange without you here."

"Feli, you got on fine without me for years before I was transferred to your department."

"Ve, but you're part of the family now! Oh, and think of all the cool things you'll see! Big Ben sounds so cool!" And with this effortless change of topic, Feli proceeded to tell Alfred about all the things he absolutely had to see while he was there, and then updated him on the statuses of all his coworkers. It was quite some time before Alfred was finally able to hang up.

Alfred sighed and snapped his phone shut. Feli, of course, had reminded him about his leg all over again. Expected recovery time was twelve months, but that didn't take into account all the time it would take to become truly fit again. Physical therapy helped, but it couldn't do everything, and he was in charge of his own training for these two weeks. He would probably have to redo some of the basic tests required to be a fireman to prove that he could still do the job. He let himself frown briefly at the wall, but then he gripped his crutch and smiled grimly. Despite everything, he was in London, and he was going to enjoy it. He turned and hobbled back to the dining room.

The man had disappeared, leaving only an empty cup of tea.

Author's note: I mentioned in a previous fic that Alfred wanted to be a firefighter and some readers really liked that idea. I didn't feel comfortable running with it in that fic, but here we are. ;)

I know that a broken hip is a serious injury and one that can be impossible to recover from. I read several different accounts on the internet of recoveries from a broken hip, and the one I've based Alfred's recovery timeline on was by someone who recovered relatively quickly. I tried to be pretty accurate (the only thing I know I took liberties with was how long Alfred can sit up for without being in serious pain, but I tried to account for it by making his plane tickets business class so he can lay down the whole time, letting him lounge at his desk, etc.) but if you feel I got something wrong, about this or anything else, feel free to let me know. :) Also, I think I added some staff positions to the fire station, but hey, it's plausible, right? :)