"How're you feeling?" He asked as she blinked at him sleepily.
"Like I've been hit by a bleedin' bus." She muttered. She started to stretch her aching limbs without thinking, and hissed in pain.
"I'd stay still if I was you." Charles commented sympathetically.
"Copy that." She muttered, relaxing back against the bed. "How bad is it?" She asked hesitantly, looking at his face to see his reaction.
"One to the neck and two to the stomach." He said slowly.
She raised her hand up to her neck, gently touching the dressing that stuck to the skin. The memory of the searing pain as the bullet had sliced through the skin flashing to the front of her brain.
"It's ok." He said quickly, grabbing her hand. "The doctors say you're healing well. You'll be back to normal before you know it."
She forced what she hoped looked vaguely like a smile. "You know me, anything to get a couple of weeks off. I was just desperate to get home and see you."
He forced a smile in return and she could see his eyes scanning her face, looking at each individual scratch and graze and wondering how it had got there. She found herself looking back at him more closely, looking at each new crease that had formed on his skin. The way the dark circles lingered under his eyes and the stubble on his jaw from where he hadn't shaved for a few days.
"How are you holding up?" She asked him.
He smiled at her more genuinely this time. "Some things never change do they? You're laying there in a hospital bed having been shot three times and you're asking me how I'm feeling?" He laughed.
She smiled, careful not to let herself laugh because she knew it was going to hurt. "You know what I mean. I can't imagine what I would've done if they'd turned up and told me something had happened to you."
"It was a long drive here, let's just say that." He mumbled after a brief pause. "But I feel a lot better now you're awake."
He watched for a second as she seemed to retreat in to herself, her mind thinking back to how she'd felt laying there in the afghan dirt- feeling herself losing consciousness and knowing there was nothing she could do to fight it off. She'd been convinced she was going to die. She'd a most resigned herself to her fate, accepted the fact that she'd never see Charles again, or watch her mum and dad argue. That she'd never get to spend another Christmas with Sam, or finally buy a house like her and Charles had been talking about.
"What day is it?" She asked suddenly, snapping out of her memories. She'd suddenly realised she'd got no concept of time. She couldn't remember if she'd been shot yesterday or a week ago.
"Err.. Its Friday I think?" He said uncertainly. "I've kind of lost all track of time." She could practically see home trying to count the days backwards in his head.
"It can't be been a week already surely?" She frowned. "I can remember sitting there eating my coco pops while the lads were pissing around and then going to get my gear ready. Everything's kinda fuzzy after that." She wasn't about to tell him the horrific clarity she could remember the actual shooting with.
"You've been awake a few times but you probably can't remember, you were pretty out of it most of the time with all the drugs. This is the most sense you've made for a while... But then again you've never exactly made much sense to me." He joked.
Without a thought she went to punch his arm playfully, hissing in pain as it pulled on her stitches.
"Have you actually been home at all since I got here?" She asked him. She knew from his dishevelled appearance the answer was going to be no.
He looked at her guiltily before he slowly shook his head. "I didn't want you to wake up and there to be no one here. And besides, if anything had happened and I hadn't have been here, you know I would never have forgiven myself."
"I'm glad you were here." She said softly, taking his hand. "But you really ought to go home and have a decent sleep and a shower... Maybe even a change of clothes?"
"A man sits by your bedside for a week and then when you finally decide to wake up you insult him? How lovely." He joked, and she could see that sparkle she loved back in his eyes as he started to relax a little. The Molly Dawes that he'd waved goodbye to at Brize Norton was coming back to him, even with her injuries and all the pain she was still taking the piss out of him and cracking jokes.
God he'd missed her.
"How about I go back, have a sleep and shower and then bring sam down to visit for a little while? He's been driving Rebecca mad begging to come and see you. She as complaint that he likes you more than he likes her." He laughed at the memory of her moaning at him down the phone.
"I'd love that." She smiled. She'd been looking forward to getting home on her R&R to spend some time with Charles and Sam. "I've really missed him." She smiled, thinking back on their Sunday afternoon skype calls where Sam had begged her to come home because Charles wasnt as much fun as her.
"I'll do that then." He smiled, getting up out of the chair with a groan. She was right he definitely needed a few hours sleep and a decent meal. Plus that would give him a chance to fill his mother in on everything before she decided to drive over there to check on Molly herself. She'd been less than impressed with his updates by text. "Are you sure you'll be okay here on your own?" He asked, suddenly hesitating.
,"Go!" She smiled. "I'm not exactly on my own am I?" She said, gesturing to the doctors and nurses that were milling around in the hallways outside.
"I'm going, I'm going." He laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. He bent down and gently kissed her forehead before heading for the door. "I love you." He called from the door way.
"Love you." She called back, settling herself back in to the pillows to get some more sleep while he was gone.
