Alrighty then, I'm back with a brand new chapter. Just a little warning, it's another sad one.

Secondly, I want to thank each and every one that was kind enough to review my last chapter. Thank you very, very much! It's much appreciated. And for those asking what exactly happened to her… Well, you'll find out. In every chapter I'm going to reveal parts of what happened, so don't worry. Just be patient with me, haha!

And I just want to explain one more thing, before I'll let you read the chapter. The italic bits are either flashbacks or nightmares The flashbacks are the things that actually happened on tour to Molly and the nightmares are just something Molly is imagining, so that didn't really happen.

Alright, I'm done rambling. Enjoy!

Molly sighed deeply. It had been a two weeks since she had her first flashback of her last tour. Every night she tried to sleep, listen to her body's need for rest, but she couldn't. She was afraid, afraid that the nightmares kept coming, never leaving her. Over the last couple of weeks the nightmares had become more vivid, more real every time. Most of the time she woke up, covered in cold sweat, breathing heavily.

She wanted it to stop. She wanted the pain that always came with the nightmare, like she got them on sale: "Two for the price of one", to go away, never returning to her. In the past two weeks she had been talking to the hospital shrink, but those sessions didn't seem to help. The nightmares weren't leaving her, it was like they only got more intense, more real since she had been talking about it. Since she had been reliving everything that happened in the Middle-East.

And the only treatment she thought was the most effective one at the moment, was to stay awake, taking short naps in between to re-charge, so to speak. Charles had asked about the nightmares – he must have noticed the dark bags under her eyes -, but she couldn't tell him. Just not yet.

Slowly, she felt her eyes getting heavy. She didn't have the energy, the strength to fight the upcoming tiredness. She couldn't keep her eyes open anymore. After a short battle, which she had lost eventually, she gave in to her body's needs and drifted off to sleep.

[nightmare]

A soft summer breeze blew across the Royal Victoria Park in Bath, bringing the local flowers and trees into motion. Children were running around the small green pastures around her, their laughter filling the air around her. Slowly she led her hand slip into the strong one of her captain, while taking in the scenery before her, the radiating warmth of the sun making it even more beautiful.

There, in front of them, was Sam playing tag with his younger brother, Matthew. Matthew had the same curly, brown hair as his father but she had recognized that Matthew possessed the color of her eyes. Sam touched his brother's shoulder, while saying: "Ha! You're it", and then making a run for it, trying to find shelter behind one of the trees.

All of a sudden dark clouds started to close in, stripping her surrounding of the much needed light. The soft summer breeze turned into a fast storm, pulling at the tree branches with such force that leaves started to fall out. But that wasn't the only thing the trees had lost, birds were also leaving their nest, trying to find a safe place to hide. She tried to squeeze the hand of her captain, but he was gone. He wasn't there anymore. Where did he go?

She spotted Sam and Matthew, but they weren't running anymore. They were watching the trees, taking in the changing weather. "Come on", she yelled at them, extending her hand to indicate that they should leave and find shelter in their home.

In the background she heard a loud bang. She tried to figure out what had caused that awful loud bang, when she noticed it, something she wished she hadn't. On top of a pile of leaves was Matthew lying, not moving. His beautiful eyes motionless, staring into the unknown world behind the dark clouds above him. "Matthew!", she screamed, running towards the body.

When she was only a few centimeters away, she stopped dead in her tracks. In the middle of his forehead there was a wound, a very round wound. Something that could only be caused by a fast flying object; a bullet. When she tried to reach out to her son, hoping that for some reason she would still save him, she felt something heavy in her hand. She looked down, finding the only object that could cause that wound in her hand. She killed him. She had killed her and Charles most precious gift; their four year old son.

She's curled up in the hospital bed, the blue colored blankets tightly wrapped around her body. Tears were formed in the corner of her eyes, eventually running down her cheeks. Usually when she cried, the tears she had shed would relief some of the pain, but this time… This time it was only making this worse.

She was laying with her back to the door, not noticing that her mother had just entered the hospital room. The moment she was aware she had a visitor, was when her mother began to speak: "So, how's my Molls doing?"

Belinda settled in the chair opposite of the bed, facing her daughter full on. When she noticed the tears, she dragged the chair closer to the bed. She brushed away the tears, softly stroking her cheek like she used to do when she was little. "What is it, sweetie?"

"I killed it", she confessed.

Her mother frowned her ash-blonde eyebrows. "What do you mean?", she asked, hoping that her eldest daughter would explain what she was talking about.

"I killed it", she repeated again.

"What have you killed, Molly?"

"The child." Surprise was evidently written across her mother's face, who was still not sure what she was referring to. "I killed Charles' baby."

"What you're on about?"

"I was pregnant during tour", she explained, while the tears started to show themselves again. "I went on the mission and lost it."

"Oh, my baby", her mother said, kissing her forehead in the loving way she needed. She never needed someone in her life as much as she needed her loving mother at the moment. "What have they done to you?", Belinda continued in a whisper.

Her mother caressed her cheeks again and slowly she felt part of the pain drain away, finding the metaphorical place under the stairs. "Does he know yet?"

She shook her head. "No", she said. "Ain't got the balls to tell him."

"You've gotta, Molls. He has a right to know."

Tears started to run down her cheeks again. "I'll hurt him, mum", she said, her emotions taking over the stability of her voice. "I don't want to hurt him anymore. I'm hurting him now, with being wounded and that."

A small smile started to appear on her mother's face, probably hoping to encourage her to tell Charles the truth. "He ain't blaming you for that", Belinda said, running a hand through her daughters dark hair. "You know that."

She closed her eyes, breathing in the much needed fresh air. Deep down she knew her mother was right. He did have a right to know what happened, but she didn't want to hurt him anymore. She wanted him to be happy, to feel happy and whole again. And she was holding him back from that. She knew he was hurting as well, even though he didn't show it in front of her.

"Yeah, I do", she responded. She got out of the fetal position she had been lying in ever since this conversation started, slowly trying to sit up straight. She moved the upper part of the bed, which would help her into the sitting position. She looked into her mother's eyes, hoping to find some calmness. Hoping that it would somehow sort out the mess inside her head. "Just don't want to hurt him no more."

Her mother stood up from the chair, opening her arms and inviting her in for a hug. Belinda pulled her close to her chest. Slowly, she felt the warmth of her mother's embrace taking an effect on her, letting her muscles relax a bit more. But that wasn't the only response her body had to this kind of contact.

Another amount of tears started to run down her cheeks. Finally, she let it out. She let out the things she had been carrying ever since she woke up in the hospital. The weight on her shoulder was being lifted, caused by one simply action from her mother.

"He would wane know", her mother said after she had held her for what seemed like hours. "It's not like you knew you were pregnant, eh?"

Molly bit her lip anxiously. "Did you know, Molls?" she asked.

"I hadn't had my period that previous month", she confessed. "But I thought it was the stress. I always stress before I go on tour."

Her mother didn't respond to her daughters words, she only pulled her into her warm embrace. "If I had just checked, got one of them stupid tests, the baby would be fine", Molly continued. "I'm a murderer, mum."

Her mother created some distance between them so she could look her in the eye. "Don't say stuff like that, baby. You ain't no killer, alright?" When she didn't respond to those words, her mother cupped her cheeks, while sincerity had a dominant presence in her eyes. "You're the most loving and unselfish person I know. And I couldn't be more proud than to call you one of mine."

Molly sniffled. "Yeah?"

Her mother smiled. It possessed the same warmth her hug just did. "You're my girl, aren't ya?"

"Thanks, mum."

Her mother kissed the top of her head, before pulling her close again. "Always, sweetie. Always."

The weeks were passing by slowly. She was gaining strength every week, looking more and more like she had before she went on tour. After she had some psychotherapy to start the rehabilitation process, she was allowed to go home. There was no need for her to stay at the hospital anymore, home care would come by every day to check up on her.

The doctor did say it was important that she kept seeing the shrink, even emphasizing to involve her partner into this. He had said that her relationship wouldn't survive if she didn't talk to him about it.

After the conversation with her mother she had been thinking about what she said. She knew she was right; Charles did deserve to know. But she couldn't lose him. Not now, not while she would need him. He would blame her in the same way she was blaming herself.

She closed her eyes again, feeling the tiredness of the day taking its toll on her. When she was being discharged her whole family, including her family and nan, were there with her. They went with her and Charles back to the apartment and stayed for dinner.

"Can I get you anything?", she heard him ask, interrupting her trail of thoughts. "Tea, maybe?"

She opened her eyes and shook her head. "No, I'm just going to bed." She stood up from the couch, that was standing in the middle of their living room. "I'm tired." She made her way to the stairs, carefully putting on foot on the first step, making contact with the carpet draped over it while her hand made contact with the oaken handrail.

She let out a deep breath, to relieve some of the pain that was caused by that one movement. He must have noticed that she was having a hard time getting up the stairs towards the bedroom, since he was at the side in an instance.

He placed one of his hands on her back, trying to help her up the stairs. "I'm fine", she snapped. "I can do it." She untied herself from his hand on her back, putting her other foot on the next step.

She turned around to look at him, instantly regretting that she snapped at him. She made eye contact with him. He looked at her in such a way she wasn't familiar with. He looked so lost, like some lost puppy. "I'm sorry", she whispered.

She turned around again, continuing her journey upstairs. She left him behind with those couple of words, waiting for her to return to him. Come back to him, like she had done a dozen of times. Only this time something was holding her back. That one thing that prevented her from launching herself into his arms, making sure that she would be okay.

But she wasn't okay. She was far from it.

So, what do you think? I hope you have enjoyed it, and as always a review would make me a very happy person, haha. Thanks for reading!