"Oh Sam, please wake up!" He pleaded, feeling as though his heart would burst with fear, anxiety and sadness.

Elvis shook his friend's shoulder gently- and stopped promptly when he realised something was not right. Sam's shoulder did not feel as though it was attached correctly. His mind was now feeling very hazy due to the smoke, but he feared that Sam had taken a fall down the stairs and was knocked unconscious.

"Oh...Sam..." He half breathed, half whimpered, as he checked the oxygen supply on Sam's back- it was dangerously low. Thinking quickly, Elvis rose to his feet, dragging an unconscious mentor up with him. He had to get Sam to a hospital- now!

But first, he had to get him out of here. Yes, he couldn't get his friend- and beloved -medical help in a burning building- or else they would need medical attention as well.

Holding his friend bridal style, Elvis attempted to lift him to safety- only to wince when he realised that he was cumbered by a broken foot.

"Ouch! That wasn't very smart..." Elvis winced. "I need another idea- one that wouldn't require both feet..."

And then he had an idea.

...

He knew the chiropractor in Newton might have a fit if he found out what Elvis was attempting, but right now, he was willing to risk paralysis for Sam's life.

To start with, he had removed his belt, and Sam's –which he cringed at but his own belt wasn't long enough- and secured them together to make a rope. Then, with great difficulty and contorting, the young fireman arranged his true love on his back, before securing him with the makeshift rope.

Then, very slowly and painfully, he began to crawl- bearing Sam's weight, the nearly empty oxygen supply and his useless leg with every remaining ounce of strength he had in his system. Debris continued to fall, burning both of them, and Elvis' palms obtained painful burns from the carpet, which made the journey even worse- but at last, through the midst of the orange and the red, he could see white.

He crawled and crawled, crawled...crawled...crawl...

...

White light assaulted Elvis' eyes as soon as they reopened an unknown time later, and through hazy vision, he could see someone he recognised….

"Fireman Cridlington-what the devil were you thinking? You could have been killed!" A familiar voice barked furiously.

Elvis blinked owlishly in response, and felt a pounding headache come on so suddenly, he involuntarily winced in pain. He could see his friends from Pontypandy standing round him; Station Officer Steele, Penny, Bella Lasagne, Dilys Price and her son Norman, Sarah and James, Sam's niece and nephew...

SAM!

"You are-a a hero, Elvis!" Bella exclaimed proudly. "You saved Fireman Sam-Grazi!"

"You should have taken better care of yourself, Elvis!" Dilys scolded, in a motherly fashion. "But what's done is done, I suppose."

Elvis was bemused- and concerned for Sam as well.

"Where's Sam?" He asked in a rush.

"He's currently undergoing an operation for a broken shoulder." Penny informed him. "Station Officer Steele was right, Elvis, you could have died in that fire. But you saved Sam, and thanks to you, he'll live for as long as fate dictates."

When he heard this, Elvis thought his heart would burst with joy. Sam would be alright!

"Will I be able to see him later?" He asks hopefully.

"Possibly," Penny admits. "If you are fit to do so, that is- actually, we need a favour. The kids want to visit Sam, but Sarah and James haven't got a relative to go with them, so we were hoping you could help..."

She winked at her friend, and suddenly, the youngest fireman understood her message, and grinned like mad.

"Oh thank you, Penny!" He gasped in delight. "I'll be delighted to help them!" Then he remembered someone else who was absent, and he felt guilty.

"How's Trevor?" He asked. "I hope he's alright."

"Auxiliary Fireman Evans is in a less critical condition than Fireman Sam or yourself, Fireman Cridlington." Station Officer Steele announced grimly. "He should be out of hospital in a day or two- but you two will be stuck in here for a while."

But Elvis didn't mind. Thoughts of his red haired, inventive, kind love came to mind- the most prominent one being that he was alive.

"I'll see you soon, Sam…" He whispered as he sunk into unconsciousness again. But as he did so, he felt tender, benevolent hands fix his blankets round him. Ever so briefly, he felt the brush of weathered hands, caught a glimpse of a disciplined moustache, and he smiled- even Station Officer Steele had a soft side, after all.