Disclaimer: I do not own the show

Rating: If you can watch the show then you are okay

Huge thanks to Debbie for help and support with this one shot.

So ever since the last episode aired I have had this idea rolling around in my brain and it has taken me this long to write it! It is not perfect but I am sure you will understand what I am trying to do. Love it or hate it, it is after all only fiction from my warped brain!

This is a Charles and Molly so if you are not a fan I will not be offended if you do not read this.

What if Elvis hadn't died? What if it was all a bad dream/nightmare?

He was running, his heart was racing and his lungs were gasping for air. Gun shots could be heard in the distance and he just keep on running. He had no idea where he was until he stopped suddenly, frozen now in fear, he had nowhere else to run. He could hear someone talking to him and then he was falling…

The darkness was coming closer and closer to him, 'You need to talk to someone Charles,' someone whispered to him as fell further into the darkness.

'We have decided to put our marriage out of its misery,' whispered another.

'It will get better, once we get used to each other, that you are not Elvis and I am not Molly,' whispered a third.

He was freefalling now into the darkness the only thing he could hear was a beeping noise in the background.

Everything was spinning madly out of control as Charles woke and bolted upright in bed. The bed sheets were soaked with sweat and he was gasping for air.

'Need to focus on something,' he whispered as he looked around him. He was home in Bath, lying in the bed he used to share with his wife. As he registered that fact he looked over at her side of the bed. She was not there. That was another thing he had fucked up as he remembered their fights and arguments, over what he suddenly couldn't remember.

He moved and sat at the edge of the bed and glanced around at the mess of the room. It wasn't that bad if he was being honest, his bergen was lying on the floor and army fatigues were lying on the floor where he had thrown them last night.

What did happen last night? A million images were swarming his brain and none of them made any sense.

His phone beeped again, and he slowly reached over to the bedside table and lifted it as a wave of nausea washed over him as he suddenly remembered having sex with someone who wasn't his wife.

He unlocked the phone and saw the two texts from his now separated estranged wife. 'What the hell does she want now, what does she not understand about us not being together anymore?' he muttered as he opened the first message:

"Elvis is awake and judging by the fact that he is flirting with a nurse I would say that he is going to be okay."

"What the hell?" he muttered as he opened the second message.

"I am on my way home, Georgie is with Elvis. What the hell is all this talk about them getting married? AGAIN?!"

Another wave of nausea hit him as he set his phone back on the table. 'What the hell is going on?' he thought running both hands through his hair as a million different images flashed before him.

His head was spinning and his heart racing. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes and asked himself 'What was the last thing he could remember?' well apart from jumping off a cliff and into the darkness.

He had been in Afghan, on a mission to track a terrorist. Elvis was there too. There had been an explosion and Elvis had been injured. He had flown back on the Hercules with an unconscious Elvis and an emotional Georgie. Molly had met them at the airport and was part of the medical team that escorted them to the hospital.

The fog in his head was beginning to clear, the empty side of the bed where Molly normally slept was not empty because she had left him. It was empty because she was working at the hospital and had pretty much ordered him to go home and get some sleep. Their normally tidy bedroom was a mess because he was that tired by the time he got there that he didn't even bother to unpack, he had literally stripped out of his uniform and fell into bed and into a deep dark and troubled sleep.

Molly, he had barely time to speak to her, to see how she was, how she was feeling. He could see the fear on her eyes when she first saw the condition Elvis was in but within a second, she was back in medic mode, all cool, calm and professional. For him all he could see was his beautiful wife standing on the tarmac in her scrubs, that was just about covering the small bump that was their baby.

He looked around the bedroom and then he saw it. Sitting on his bedside table, resting on the base of his lamp was his copy of the image taken on her twelve-week scan which he had missed when he had been deployed to Nepal at short notice. In that instant he swore to both himself and Molly that he would not miss any more hospital appointments or scans.

In that moment, staring at the grainy image and tracing the outline of their baby, the horror of his dream hit him hard. They had been fighting and arguing, Molly had wanted him to get help and he ignored her. He had been injured in a jungle and then being chased again by people with guns, having sex with Georgie, falling off a cliff, it had all been a dream. A horrible nightmare that as much as he wanted to, he could not forget.

He remembered making that phone call to Molly from Afghan. He had no idea what time of the day it was never mind the time difference to the UK. He knew the second she answered the phone that he had woken her. Her sleepy "Hello," still tugged at his heart strings and then when she realised it was him calling, fear took over. "What's wrong? What has happened?"

Her voice had calmed and soothed him and given him the strength for the long journey home. He kept replaying something she had said on the call, something which he now knew made sense. After telling her about Elvis being badly injured, he told her about Azizi and how he had betrayed him, Molly had mentioned that he would need to talk to someone about what had happened out there. If not her, then a professional. He had scoffed the idea but now after that nightmare and how everything could have been so different made him completely re-think the idea.

He was feeling a mix of emotions as he heard the front door open. Relief that it had all been a nightmare but also disgust at the very thought of cheating on his wife with their friend and as he remembered that one image from his nightmare of him watching himself have sex with her, he could feel the bile rising as he ran to the bathroom and vomited.

As soon as she had closed and locked the front door Molly could hear her husband moving about upstairs. She thought nothing of it until she was hanging her coat and she heard him vomiting. She instantly climbed the stairs as fast as she could and when she reached the bathroom, she found him slumped over the toilet.

"Charles?"

"Don't come in Molly," Charles said quietly as he slowly stood up and held onto the sink for the support.

Molly ignored him as she walked into the room and gently rubbed the back of his shoulders and gazed at him through the mirror. He looked pale and tired and when he frowned at her she smiled back.

"Makes a change," Molly said, "It is usually me throwing up in here and you are holding my hair and rubbing my back."

Charles smiled as he reached up and squeezed her hand that was resting on his shoulder.

"Your sweating," Molly stated frowning "and shaking. Is it a bug or something you ate?"

"I'm fine," Charles replied as he took some deep breaths.

"It doesn't look like it," Molly replied

"I just had a fright that's all," Charles replied quietly "Why don't you get changed while I brush my teeth?"

"Okay," Molly replied quietly frowning as she walked out of the bathroom.

Charles quickly brushed his teeth and then splashed some cold water around his face. He was still trying to process the nightmare from hell. It had scared the shit out of him, hence the shaking and he knew Molly was concerned but how the hell could he tell the woman he loved more than life itself and who was carrying his baby that he dreamt he cheated on her and had sex with another woman?

He walked quietly out of the bathroom and into the bedroom just as Molly was changing into one his t-shirts. "So that is where they are all disappearing too then?" he smirked.

"They are the only things that fit me anymore," Molly replied smiling as she turned around and smiled at him. "I am so pleased to get that bra off."

"So am I," he smiled as he opened his arms and she walked into his embrace "I haven't had a chance to tell you how beautiful you look."

"Yeah right."

"I mean it. You, Sam and this little one," Charles said quietly as he rested his hand on her tiny bump "are my whole world," he sat as he bit back a sob.

"Charles you're scaring me tonight," Molly said as she pulled back and studied him.

"I just had a really bad dream," Charles said as he bit back a sob. He couldn't lie to her and he knew that she was not going to like what he was going to tell her. He sat down at the bottom of the bed and buried his head in his hands.

"You want to tell me about it?" Molly asked as she came and sat beside him and took his hand.

"I dreamt that I was back in Afghan and Elvis was killed in that explosion."

"Oh, shit Charles," Molly said as she kissed his cheek.

"There was no baby," he whispered, his hand resting on her tummy. "You were never pregnant. In fact, we were fighting, you wanted me to get help and I refused. I was so consumed by grief and keep signing for all types of tours that I lost you and Sam. Hell we were even fighting over a fucking chest of drawers!"

"Seriously, I can think of more important things to argue about," Molly smiled as she held his hand.

"I was lost and confused and then dreamt that I was falling off a cliff and that was when I woke up. Even then it took me a few minutes until I realised it was all a dream. It wasn't a bug or food poisoning that made me sick Molly, it was that nightmare and everything in it that made me sick. The fear of losing you and what we have."

"You haven't lost me you prannet, it's just your brain trying to process everything that has happened," Molly said quietly as she stroked his hair.

"Then why did I have dream what I did? Why is my brain thinking it is okay for me to dream…that?"

"I don't understand?" Molly trying to understand what Charles was telling her. He was shaking again and sweat was forming on his forehead.

"I am going to tell you something and you will probably want to kill me for it, but I cannot lie to you Molly. I love you so much."

Molly didn't reply she simply continued holding his hand as he started to speak.

"In the nightmare… I had sex," Charles said almost spitting the word out "with another woman."

Molly just stared at him and shook her head briefly "what?"

"With Georgie, and it was bad, really bad and I have absolutely no reason why I would ever do that. I…." he stammered.

"With Georgie, Georgie as in Elvis' on-off finance Georgie?"

"Molly…"

"I need a minute," Molly replied as she let go of his hand and stood up to walk in circles around their bedroom.

"What else happened in this dream or nightmare or whatever the hell you want to call it?"

"I was running from you, from everything, we were over, Sam didn't want to know me. Elvis was dead and I couldn't deal with it. I kept signing up for tours that I didn't want to go on and a job I didn't love anymore. I was lost and somehow I thought I had feelings for… her, that I owed it to Elvis to protect her…" Charles explained as he ran his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time that night.

"And do you? Have feelings for her?" Molly asked him.

"God no!" Charles stood up to walk towards her, only for Molly to take a step back. "Molly I love you!"

Molly glared her reply.

"It was awful Molly, that was why I was vomiting earlier, the very thought of having sex with her, with anyone else…" Charles said as he closed his eyes and took a breath. "Imagine the worst sex you have had and multiply it by a hundred Molly. I have never fancied or had feelings for her. You know that. Christ I only put up her in the beginning because Elvis was so bloody in love with her."

"And yet she's still in two section?" Molly questioned. "I mean she replaced me as the team medic and now it seems you're lining her up as my replacement in your bed" Molly spat with tear filled eyes

"She will never be your replacement Molly, no-one ever will. I would die before I would let that happen. I am not in love with her sweetheart and I never will be, she is far to mouthy and high maintenance to begin with. Hell, I'm not sure I even like her half the time"

"I'm mouthy," Molly whispered

"Not even close to her," Charles smiled "I would rather go into a warzone with a hundred Molly's by my side than one Georgie Lane," he sighed as he sat back down on their bed. "I have no idea why that happened in my dream Molly. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, but I couldn't lie to you. I love you so much. When I saw you, at the airport I wanted to run over to you, hold you, kiss you, loose myself in you but I couldn't because it is against bloody regulations. Every night when we are apart, I dream of you, us and our future. This is what I want right here in this room. Us."

"And Sam? You are forgetting him."

"Off course I want Sam too," Charles replied, "Jesus if it was up to me, I would have full custody of him, and we would all be living here together."

"Why Georgie though?" Molly asked in a quieter thoughtful tone. "A random stranger would make more sense but then when do dreams ever make sense?"

"It beats the hell out of me. All I know is that even the mention of her name makes me want to vomit again."

"Stop mentioning the v word or I will start," Molly replied as she headed to their en-suite

"Molly?"

"I just need a minute Charles," Molly said as she walked into the small room and locked the door behind her. She leaned up against the door and took a deep breath and tried to take everything in. From the phone call from Charles in Afghan, breaking the news to Elvis' parents and then everything at hospital. She was shattered and that was before Charles' bombshell.

The medic in her had an idea on what was happening to her husband, the pregnant hormonal Molly wanted to damage something. After a few minutes she opened the bathroom door and saw Charles sitting on the bed staring at the scan photo. She saw a kaleidoscope of emotions on his face, joy and wonder and worry and confusion.

"The baby is fine, we can find out the sex if we want to know at the next appointment," Molly said quietly as she came and sat beside him on the bed.

"Can I?" he asked fighting back tears as Molly took his hand and placed it on her small barely visible baby bump. "Can you feel it moving yet?"

"Not yet," she smiled "But both our mothers reckon I should be feeling some movement soon."

"And the sickness?"

"I have gone two days without being sick," Molly replied as she stroked his hand.

"I was so wrapped up in Elvis when we I got back, and when you came in it was all about me and my… well whatever the hell it was that I haven't even asked how you and the baby are. Never mind Elvis," Charles sighed as he buried his head "I really am a shit husband."

"No, you are not," Molly replied "I am fine, the baby is fine. Elvis has a hell of a lot of injuries and god only knows how many operations and skin grafts and physio ahead of him, but he is going to be okay. I am not going to say her name in case it makes you ill but, according to her they are engaged again so it is safe to say that I do not need to be worried about her engaging me in a fight for your affections."

Charles gave a small smile at her remark but still stared the scan photo. "I don't know if I want to know the sex."

"We have time to decide."

"You are being very calm."

"I am thinking of my blood pressure mate!" Molly laughed "The hormonal me though wants to kill someone or something."

"Now that sounds more like my gorgeous wife," Charles smiled lovingly at her

"What happened out there Charles. In Nepal, Afghan wherever the hell you were?"

"I am so tired Molly, I fucked up and nearly killed my best friend."

Charles sat and told Molly all about the aid efforts in Nepal and the operation in Afghan and he didn't listen when he was warned about Azizi and cried in his wife's arms.

"I feel like I am losing my mind Molly."

"We are all trained for combat," Molly explained quietly "We all handle things in different ways. But we all have a limit. The things we have seen can never be unseen and no-one should see them. It is going to catch up with us eventually and takes its toll on us no matter how perfect or brilliant we think are. I think you need to talk someone Charles."

"PTSD?" he asked quietly

"I think so."

Charles nodded his head "Would that cause that nightmare?"

"Probably."

"I'm not going mad? I am not going to lose you?" he asked staring at her intensely.

"You're not going mad you prannet. As for losing me, I am a bit mad and a bit jealous but as long as you stay well away from someone," Molly smiled as she took his hand "We are having a baby, I don't think I will be going anywhere for a while, so looks like you're stuck with me mate."

"I love you so much," Charles whispered as he cupped her face.

"Ditto," Molly whispered as she wiped a stray tear from his cheek "Now I don't know about you, but I think we both need some sleep."

"Ditto," Charles replied as they both laughed.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered as Molly stood up and kicked off her shoes.

"I am not going anywhere," she replied "Well until bambino starts kicking me in the bladder and the morning sickness kicks in."

Love it or hate it. Agree or disagree constructive comments are always welcome!

I really wanted to have Elvis walk out of the shower aka Bobby Ewing in Dallas but I thought you would appreciate a happy CJ/Molly scene instead.

Thank you all for reading