Thank you to those who have been in contact over my failure to update Operation Nyota for the last month or so. I'm afraid that I've hit a bit of a wall with that one - I know where I want the story to go and I've pretty much written the final chapter, but I'm not really feeling it at the moment and I'm unhappy with what I do write. I will return to it as soon as I can because I don't like leaving it unfinished.

The idea for this story came to me a while ago and I started writing it at the beginning of the year. I wanted to wait until I had it completed to publish it as I struggle to write angsty stuff. However, now I think I need to publish to give me the FEAR to a) finish it and b) get back in the habit of writing so I can get my head into gear to finish Nyota. (I suffer terribly from startyitis, I'm not one of life's finishers).

While we all inevitably focus on the love story between Charles and Molly, I wanted to get some closure into the relationship between Smurf and Captain James. The programme makes no attempt to fill in the gap between Smurf waiting outside of Captain James' hospital room and Charles delivering his eulogy at the funeral.

This won't be a long story - I've set myself 3 chapters because it's essentially one scene. Those of you wanting to see the best in Charles or Smurf might not want to read it, I don't think either of them cover themselves in glory in this story, but in my mind this is how I expect them to feel and react in this situation. They have both shown themselves to be sulkers and brooders, and given they are both used to being fit, active and in control I don't think they would cope well with being injured and immobilised.

In terms of timeline, this scene takes place at Queen Elizabeth Hospital, after Molly has been to visit and before Captain James has been discharged.

"Captain James?"

Charles turned his head. A nurse hovered at the end of the bed looking apologetic.

"I'm not disturbing you am I?" Charles shook his head, there was nothing to disturb. He lay in this bed for hours, staring at the wall, thinking over and over again about his dreadful mistakes and the failure that had marked his final mission.

"You have a visitor, do you think you're up to it?"

Charles' heart raced. Sam was at scout camp so Rebecca wasn't due to visit, his parents were in France. No one else came to visit him, he didn't want to see anyone. Molly had come once, but he had been recovering from surgery, his recollection was hazy, but her visit had left a feeling of awkwardness and uncertainty in him. Since then he had retreated further, brooding over what he could have done or said to have made their brief time together better.

"Who is it?" He asked the nurse, his interest piqued. "Private Smith" she replied, "shall I show him in?" Charles' face fell briefly, but he quickly recovered. "Of course, but first could you help me sit up a little more?"

The nurse helped to adjust his pillows and raised the back of the bed slightly whilst reminding him that should he feel any pain in his abdomen that he should lower the bed again. She turned to leave and Charles took a deep breath, preparing himself.

"Boss" said Smurf, standing awkwardly by Charles' bed. He was dressed casually, tracksuit bottoms and a t shirt, his arm and shoulder strapped heavily against his body.

"Smurf" came the curt reply from Charles.

"Can I?" Asked Smurf, motioning towards the chair beside the bed. "Of course"

They sat in an awkward silence for a few moments, neither looking directly at each other.

"How are you doing?" Charles eventually asked, glancing up at Smurf. His face looked calm, but his eyes darted away from Charles' gaze.

"On the mend" came the reply, "I'm being discharged today, I thought I'd better come and see you before I go"

"Why is that?"

"Well, with what happened and that...I mean you're still my CO. I wanted to know what was going to happen"

"You've been interviewed by Kinders as part of the after action debrief?"

"Yes"

"Well unless they have further questions there shouldn't be anything else to concern you. There might be additional procedures depending on the outcome of medical checks, you needn't concern yourself with that now."

"I meant with you, Sir"

"Me?"

Smurf took a deep breath and raised his eyes.

This was a mistake. He thought that the passing weeks had meant he wouldn't feel so angry. Apparently he'd misjudged himself. Again.

Physically, he was feeling better, his arm was healing well. His physio, Sally had reckoned he should get full movement back if he stuck with the rehab. She was a nice girl. Friendly and bubbly, with short blonde hair. Once she knew you weren't some stiff she had a filthy sense of humour. In any other circumstances he would have been making a play for her, but his heart really wasn't in it these days. He knew he had no hope with Molly, she'd laid that out with unmistakable clarity when she had been to visit. Even if she hadn't he knew. He'd seen it in her eyes at Bastion, and again when she she saw him wheeled out after the operation. Him. This man in front of him now. He was it as far as Molly was concerned.

Right now, looking at Captain James he struggled to comprehend quite what Molly saw in him. He had always held the boss in high respect. When Smurf had been struggling through his basic training his letters from Geraint had been full of stories of Captain James. Geraint had finished his phase 2 and was getting ready for deployment. Captain James was the centre of his world, he almost seemed beyond human, motivating Geraint to push on with what sounded like all types of hell. He had encouraged him to try harder, to do more. Smurf had spent most of his leave teasing Geraint about being in love with his new CO.

But Geraint had been right, Captain James was an excellent CO, he was fiercely loyal to his men. He was fair; he had high expectations of them, but he repaid them by supporting his men and helping them become the best soldiers they could be. If you worked hard you didn't stay in his platoon long, you progressed through the ranks quickly. He was always on the look out for new opportunities for his best soldiers and he schooled and encouraged them to take these whenever they arose. Captain James knew exactly how to get more out of you than you thought you had.

When Geraint had died on that tour Smurf's mother had taken the loss hard. It was only during the inquest some months later that Smurf and Candy found out the extent of the involvement of Captain James in ensuring that Geraint was retrieved from where he fell and was medevaced to Bastion. The fact that these actions had not managed to save his life weighed heavy on the young Captain, but to Candy and Smurf if had sealed his place as a hero to their family. Through the fog of grief that they carried with them, the fact that Geraint had died in Bastion and that his body could be brought home was of great comfort.

Smurf, now out of basic had followed Geraint into the same regiment, and into the same platoon. He had shown more of an aptitude for the engineers, but he was determined to follow his brother into the infantry, and once again another Smith boy had been placed under the command and care of Captain James. Charles, coming back from his third tour to a failed marriage, a bitter wife and a belly full of doubt had looked on the prospect of training up Smurf as a second chance to right the wrongs of Herrick XV, and Smurf thought he was emulating his much loved and missed brother.

Smurf proved to be a keen member of the team. Where he was lacking, he tried hard, encouraged by his CO. His application and dedication earned him best recruit. He was not the natural soldier his brother had been, but he was well liked by his section, always keen to muck in and give it a go. He did not cope well with failure, he had a tendency to bear grudges and brood, which was far from ideal when you are living in close quarters with others and are dependent on them for your welfare. Captain James had found that in his experience these matters would resolve themselves if left to their own devices, although more often than not when they involved Smurf the timeline was a little longer and some input from himself or the Corporal was usually required.

Smurf emerged from his phase 2 training a competent and popular soldier. He worked well as part of his section, often as lead man in exercises. He seemed to be responding well to the responsibility placed upon him. Captain James had every confidence in his abilities and knew which strings to pull to keep him on his toes.

Now, six months later, back in the UK, both with a few holes in them courtesy of their last tour Smurf struggled to put himself back in the mindset of the soldier he had been as he waited with his section on the tarmac at Brize Norton. He felt too keenly the failure to live up to his beloved brother, the loss of hope for the first woman he had truly loved, and the respect for the man he once considered his mentor and friend.

"I haven't said anything about you and Molly, you know"

"What?"

"I didn't mention you and Molly Sir, you know, when I was interviewed about what happened."

"And why are you telling me this?"

"Well, I wanted to know, once you're better Sir, whether I would still be in your platoon."

Charles sighed. He had no answers for Smurf.

"I haven't said anything either. Before you get your hopes up, it's not because I feel any duty to save your sorry arse. Molly...Private Dawes, is a bloody good soldier, they are going to want to keep her in and I will not let this clusterfuck of a situation haunt her military career. She's got a hard slog in front of her if she wants to make something of her time in the army, she doesn't need to be dragged into this."

Smurf let out a sigh of relief.

"But as for you and me, I don't know. You were a fucking liability out there Smurf. I'm not sure I'm fool enough to let myself back into your company when ammunition is around. I don't think I've ever returned from a tour feeling more let down by one of my soldiers."

Smurf reeled from the harsh words of the Captain. But before, where he would have felt the weight of his disappointment in him, now he felt nothing but a hot flash of anger.

"At least I'm not some fucking Rupert hypocrite" he spat back, the rage crawling over his skin.