Hello everyone. I am completely new to writing fanfiction for "Our Girl". I am loving the stories that have been posted so much, but I couldn't resist writing one myself. I am a proud Dutchie, so that means my English is not as good as the rest of you. If you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, don't hesitate to point them out.

Anyway, last night's episode was amazing, but also very gripping. This idea popped into my head when I was on my way to school this morning. I really love the relationship Qaseem and Molly share, a very sweet father/daughter relationship. When both James and Smurf are hurt I imagine that Qaseem would be there for her.

Ok, I'll stop rambling now. Enjoy:)

The warm evening breeze provided by the Afghan heat spread across Camp Bastion. Molly Dawes exhaled deeply, taking in the heat, hoping that it would fill the empty place left behind after the events of today. It was all such a mess. Both Smurf and James were injured because they took their eyes of the task at hand. They took their eyes of the job because they were too focussed on her. Her.

A single tear fell down her cheek. Just one of many she had already shed because of this ordeal. She had already felt guilty about the events that led to getting the platoon involved into this hunt of Badrai. The platoon that she'd gotten so fond of. For her it was like inheriting a bunch of brothers to add to her, already big, family. And now, now this newly created family could be ripped apart if one or both of them were to die.

No, Molly. It's not good to think like that.

More tears felt down, cutting across her cheeks, hoping that it would alleviate some of the pain she carried with her. Whenever she closed her eyes she could see James and Smurf lying on the ground.

"I'm sorry", he said. Twice.

She was so lost in her thoughts she didn't hear someone approaching her. After they returned to Camp Bastion for the duration of the tour she had to find another spot for some peace and quiet. Time she usually spend thinking about everything that was happening to her.

She turned around when she heard someone clear their throat. In the small light provided by the full moon, who was safely positioned in the Afghan sky, she recognized Qaseem. A person she really became fond of during this tour. She did her best to wipe the still visible tears away, hoping that he wouldn't notice. He didn't say anything about her state of her emotions. Instead, he simply took a seat right next to her. Worry slightly present on his face. "Are you alright?", he asked after a few moments of silence.

She turned her head to look at the man she came close to. He had become like a father figure to her. That man was so different from her father back in London. He had lost so much and was almost consumed by the guilt that came with it. Guilt that after today was far too familiar for her.

She wanted to tell Qaseem that everything was alright. She didn't want to appear as the medic who was too weak, too soft to handle the real deal. But to Qaseem it was pointless to pretend. He always saw right through her and always knew what to say to make her feel better.

"No", she said. "No, Qaseem, I'm not alright."

"It wasn't your fault." They were words she wanted to believe so much, but she was so deep in despair that she couldn't think clearly anymore. "Whatever you think, it wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault. The Taliban are to blame here."

"But, Qaseem…"

He held up his hand, signalling an interruption. "No, I will not let you be consumed by this guilt."

"Like you are?"

"Yes." He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words to say to her. "It'll withhold you from enjoying your life as you should. Don't let it control your life."

She turned her head again, taking in the view of the stars while she weighed Qaseems words. Here, next to her, sat a man who lived with the weight of guilt on his shoulders for years. He knew exactly how she was feeling right now.

"But you still have hope. All is not lost.."

These words hit harder than she would have thought. The tears started to make themselves known to the outside world, rolling down her cheeks like a large waterfall. Like they would never end, that the water kept coming from an unknown source.

"I feel so guilty about everything", she said, while she sniffled her. "If it wasn't for me they would never have been arguing."

Qaseem didn't answer. He simply placed his right hand on top of her shoulder, squeezing it slightly. "They are strong. They will fight hard. I know that."

"What if that's not going to be enough?"

"We have to believe. For all our sakes." He retreaded his hand, who had rested on her shoulder not moments ago. "Especially yours", he added to his last words.

She looked at him and asked: "Me?"

He nodded. "I've observed you the last couple of days, Molly. I know love when I see it." There was a moment of silence between them. "My wife used to have the same look in her eyes. The same look you have when you look at James."

She inhaled deeply, taking the air and Qaseems words in together. "Go! Be with him. He would want you there." He grabbed a handkerchief out of his right pocket and handed it to her.

She whipped away the traces left behind by the tears. As Qaseem stood up, she managed to thank him: "Thank you, Qaseem. Really."

His answer only consisted of a smal, sad smile and a nod towards her. He turned around and started to walk back to the centre of Camp Bastion. She swallowed hard before making her way to the hospital. She was going to put Qaseems words into action. She was going to be there for James, but also her best mate Smurf. Neither of them deserved to die. She would try to be there for them.

So, what do you think? Should I continue this?

I hope you liked it and it would be very lovely if you took the time to review it. Always nice to know what people think about it.