Author's note - First Our Girl story. With about six maybe to come. Totally in love with Captain Dawesy...
Let me know what you think :) xo
Decompression was a daft idea she'd decided.
She thought it was a bloody idea last time around with two men down, and yet here she was again. Round two done, and she's still missing those two men. One she was sure she'd miss every day she was alive, she still couldn't get over how fucking unfair it was, especially on his poor Mum. It catches her out sometimes, she'll get a thought of summat and wanna tell him and he just ain't there.
And she can't even pretend that he's home in bleeding Newport, happy; working with his Uncle, family dinners with his Mam, settled with some sweet girl with the patience of a saint. A girl who'd have loved him the way he deserved. She felt sorry for that girl, whoever she was, for missing out. For not having had the chance to have Smurf.
She can't imagine him like that though, not even when she really tries, she can only see flashbacks of their time together and his face that final day on the pitch. She don't think she'll ever forget it.
It's blates one of the shittest days of her life that one, topped only by that day she fucked it all up and nearly got 'em both killed. They could all bleat on for an age how it weren't her fault, and she could see their points she could. They all have their share of the blame, their actions were shit and that, but she'd never fully shake that feeling, that sick heavy stomach, heart gone cold feeling, that people could have died. Because of her. Because of her, he could have died.
She knows he's fine; gets a bloody letter from him every couple of weeks, full of boring shite she pretends she don't care about when really she laps up every detail of his life that he shares with her. So from that she knows he's fine, his rehab's done and now he's home "convalescing" in Bath which she's decided basically means sitting on his arse, eating cocoa pops and doing nowt. So yeah she knows he's doing fine, just there's times when she wakes up at like 3am that her bleeding brain takes a few minutes to remember that.
She hates just sitting, doing nothing, "decompressing" whatever. There were things she could be doing, either back in Afghan or at home, actual more important things she could be doing, and people she could be seeing.
But nope, she's sat on some sodding beach. She's actually bleeding sick of the sand, and the sun. If it weren't raining when she got home, she'd actually be disappointed.