She was crying. She was scared and crying because someone was supposed to have killed her. Or because that someone was now probably dead and she was blaming herself, feeling sorry for him, you never could tell with her. Do not get in-fucking-volved, Dawes. How many bloody times.

She was still crying. He wished she would stop. How was he supposed to think when she had that look in her eyes. That look that was sad and scared and begging him for something, something, but what? Just something. Anything. He needed that look to go away. He needed her to stop crying.

No, what he needed was to get back to Bastion, report this back, figure out a strategy to counter the latest threat. Apprehend Badrai, be a part of ensuring the safety of Afghan and of his soldiers. And of her.

She couldn't stay here. There was a bounty on her head. She was in imminent danger. She was putting everyone else in danger. She had to leave. She would never agree to leave. Surely the Major would agree. She would have to leave. He needed her to go.

She was still looking at him with that look in her eyes. Sohail had been rushed out but she was still looking at him like that. He needed it to go away. He needed to see that sparkle in her eye, the one that meant fucking trouble. That meant she wasn't good at following orders. That meant she followed her heart instead. That made him feel like a fucking 14 year old boy gazing across the lunch hall at a pretty girl instead of a fully grown man in the British Army.

He stepped towards her. Her eyes lifted to meet his and he felt it like a physical blow. At this moment, he doubted there was anything he wouldn't do to get that look off her face. To protect her from this. She was a bloody good soldier and look where it had gotten her.

She was still crying. He could still see the single escaped tear shining on her cheek. He needed it gone. Almost against his will, he stepped closer and lifted his hands to her face. His thumb smoothed the tear away. There. She was still looking at him, but something in her eyes had changed. Hope. Hope that everything would be alright. Did he put that look there? Was it some kind of misplaced faith in him, the thought that he could make this better? He had no fucking idea.

So he pressed their foreheads together. Some of the raw horror had melted from her face. She had stopped crying. He swore to himself then and there that he would protect her. That she would go home and he would do everything he could to keep that look from her eyes.

Don't get emotionally involved?

Too fucking late.

Hope you enjoyed :)