LOVE DROUGHT

Are you aware that you're my lifeline? Are you tryna kill me?

"Christ, Fingers, what the bloody hell is that shit?" Two Section watched as Charles planted himself down on one of the makeshift deck chairs where they were resting while One and Three Section took their turn to play volleyball in the scorching Afghanistan heat. Even though they had vacated Camp Palisade for the relative safety of Camp Bastion four days ago, it was the first time they had laid eyes on the Bossman since Molly had been rescued.

He definitely looked a lot better from when they had last saw him. The dark circles around his eyes, although still very visible, were not so violent looking anymore, and the bronze tan he had achieved during their time in Iraq was slowly creeping its way back into his hollow and weary face, temporarily easing the deep lines that had formed on his forehead in recent weeks. Kinders watched him carefully.

"Just felt it was right to play some of the King, Boss, since we was back in Afghan and all that." Fingers grabbed Brains' black Ray-Bans off his face and chucked them at the Major, grinning mischievously as he turned the portable speaker up. It was good to see the Boss.

Kinders could tell that Charles was trying his best to appear relaxed by putting on the sunglasses and idly drawing pictures in the sand with his finger, but that he felt anything but. He had most likely been chucked out of Molly's room for a bit and was trying to fill the time.

I loved your point of view 'cause you held no punches, but still I left you for months on end; it's been months since I checked back in…

Charles half-heartedly rolled his eyes and trying his best to block out the lyrics, "I don't recall Elvis' catalogue containing much rap music, Fingers."

"Someone put the posh sod out of his misery and tell him it's Jay-Z! While you was singing your Elton shit during basic, we had to survive somehow!" Mansfield moaned as he turned over onto his front to let the sun hit his fair skin.

"Lovely." Charles nodded and closed his eyes, leaning back into the chair and trying to enjoy the feeling of the rays tanning his battered skin. For a brief moment, it felt like the cloud of their reality had dissipated and was replaced with total stillness as the group sat in a peaceful silence. Suddenly, he felt himself tense up as his thoughts returned. Molly should be sitting here too.

"Me mam always said I would be next the Jay-Z." Nude Nut announced proudly.

"Was that before or after she realised you couldn't even count?" Mansfield bear hugged his friend and rubbed his bald head, much to the delight of Fingers who cheered them on.

This moment of normality, of nostalgia, was broken by the shouts of Three Section as Elf from One Section scored a point for his team. Captain Kinders excused himself and ran over to the game blowing his whistle in an attempt to calm the boys down.

Nude Nut regained his composure and splashed some of his water down himself to cool off. "I'm not even shittin' yous, even our Molls agreed back in Afghan that I had serious skills! She always loved this one when I'd sing it on patrol!"

The gentle banter that had been building up slowly amongst the boys again came crashing down at the mention of the 'M word', a name that none of them had even dared to breathe since that day. Suddenly, the boys all looked down and avoided even glancing at the Major sitting beside them. As the uncomfortable silence fell, Charles felt the deep ache of his stomach wound rise up at the mention of Molly – his Molly. It had been happening a lot lately. Trying to mask the pain he felt, Charles focused on the music to steady his breathing.

I can understand why you want a divorce now though I can't let you know it 'cause pride won't let me show it. I pretend to be heroic… but deep inside a man is so sick.

Charles winced at the poignancy of the lyrics, thankful for the sunglasses he had on. This had really turned fucking awkward, and he was trying to calculate how long it would be until he could leave them without looking weak.

"Don't stop on my account, lads. It's okay." He smiled sadly, lifting his face back up to the sun in a feigned attempt at ignorance.

They all refocused their attentions on the volleyball game, taking particular interest at the flustered look on Kinders' face as he tried to referee a sport he clearly had very little knowledge of, as he had demonstrated one more than one occasion. Even Charles was finding it humorous.

"Nice one, you fucking div!" Brains whispered to Nude Nut, unaware of the fact that the Boss could hear him. He also didn't miss the playful blow to Nude Nut's stomach.

"I was only sayin'-" Charles laughed quietly and felt himself relax at the familiar banter of Two Section, realising that he was no longer the subject of their interest. Glancing at his watch, he was relieved to find that he only had ten minutes left of the fifteen the nice ginger nurse had suggested he leave the room for in order to get some air while they cleaned Molly's wounds.

They say you can't turn a bad girl good but once a good girl's gone bad, she's gone forever. I'll mourn forever. Shit, I've got to live with the fact I did you wrong forever. I can't see 'em coming down my eyes so I got to make the song cry, but I know I see 'em coming down your eyes.

Swallowing, Charles settled himself into the chair. It was going to be a long ten minutes.

You and me could move a mountain. You and me could calm a war down

Galloping up the stairs two at a time, Charles could feel his pulse racing as he ran. The unfamiliar sound of silence in their house had filled him with a panic he couldn't quite describe as his head became clouded with fear. Every single room downstairs was empty.

Sprinting along the long hallway, he bashed their bedroom door open and cast a quick glance of the room before running out and heading towards the nursery. Finding the door already open, he walked cautiously into the baby-pink room as he held his breath and fell to his knees in tears as he realised what had happened. They were both gone. Molly had left him.

Somewhere in his consciousness, Charles could remember the lyrics of one of those God-awful Jay-Z songs that Fingers had continued to play while they watched the volleyball game.

'Fuck joint custody, just the thought fucks with me. Apologies in order to my daughter, if it was up to me, you would be with me.'

Rising up slowly from his shaking knees, Charles grabbed onto the white wood of their daughter's cot to steady himself. Breathing deeply in an effort to control the pain that was making itself known from his old war wounds, he let go of the cot and moved backwards slowly away from it.

Opening his eyes again, he ran towards the cot and kicked it with such force that his being groaned for all its worth with the sheer agony the contact had created. Sobbing, Charles threw himself down to lie amongst the shattered wood, screaming his wife's name as he did so.

"Charles!" His body ached as Molly's voice haunted him. She was taunting him, over and over, and it was only getting louder.

"Charles!" It called again, causing Charles to wipe the sweat that was running down his face with the back of his hand in disbelief. It sounded so real.

"Charles!" Her voice was fading away, and he begged and begged her to come back. She was getting quieter

"Molly, please, don't leave me, come back…" He screamed through his tears. The voice had stopped, and she was gone.

Suddenly, the bright lights of the nursery were replaced with the darkness of Molly's hospital room. Opening his eyes slowly, it took Charles a few moments to calm himself down and to figure out where he was. With his forehead resting of the side of the bed and his eyes facing the floor, he steadied his breathing by listening to the quiet hums and beeps of the machines in the room. It was just a dream.

"Charlie?" He thought his mind was playing tricks on him again at first, as the quiet but concerned voice he could hear sounded identical to the one in his dream. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, Charles lifted his head slowly from the edge of the bed as he felt someone's fingers run through his curls with the faintest of touches. Raising his hand into his hair to investigate what was touching him, he felt her fingers.

Looking up at the pillow, Charles' gaze was met with the most incredible green eyes he had fallen in love with all those years ago. Looking at him warily, as if checking he was actually real, he felt his face break into the biggest of grins as his wife smiled slowly back at him. He raised the tiny hand that had been in his hair to his mouth and kissed her knuckles lightly.

"Hey, you." He whispered.

Ten times out of nine I know you're lying, but nine times out of ten I know you're trying so I'm trying to be fair, and you're trying to be there and to care. But you're caught up in your permanent emotions, all the loving I've been giving goes unnoticed, it's just floating in the air; lookie there

"Oh my God. Molly, I thought… I was so scared you wouldn't – oh my God." Charles felt the tears run freely down his face as he took in the sight in front of him. Wincing with the pain, Molly raised her hand to his cheek and tried to wipe away his tears, and smiling when he leant into her touch. She could count the amount of times she had seen him cry in the time she had known him on one hand.

"Shh, it's okay." She whispered hoarsely, feeling the tears run down her own face and onto the thin duvet. They stayed like that for a while, neither quite believing that this moment had finally arrived… that they had been given a second chance.

"What happened, Charlie? Where am I?" Molly broke the silence, curious as to how she had come to be in what appeared to be a hospital.

"You don't remember?" He eyed her cautiously, trying to judge whether or not she was strong enough yet to know the full story of what had happened to her, or how much she remembered. He helped her to drink out of the sippy-cup the nurses had left for her, chuckling softly as she visibly delighted in the taste of the cold water.

She nodded. "I mean how did I get here?" Her throat ached with every word she forced it to say.

Charles cleared his throat. "We tracked down where you were being held. Special Forces were involved... Christ, Molly, when we found you… I thought we were too late. I thought I was too late." Feeling his voice break at the use of 'I', he looked down to stop the tears from falling down his face once again. Taking her hand back in his, he studied with amazement the fact they were safe. She was safe. "But then, when they stabilised you... the beeping of those bloody machines was the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. Because your heart beating meant that you had come back to me." He smiled a watery smile, feeling unashamed for once that she was seeing him so vulnerable.

Trying to lighten the mood since she couldn't fully hold him in her arms, Molly joked, "I bet you had a Julius Caesar when Elvis strutted his way into camp."

"Something like that." He snorted. When their eyes met, he couldn't help but smile. They sat in a comfortable silence as the doctors and nurses came in to check on Molly and ask her questions now that she was awake.

By the time the medics had left, Molly was on the verge of falling asleep and Charles could tell that she was pushing herself not to do so.

"Charlie?" The tiredness in her voice was intensified by the morphine she had just been given.

"Mmm?"

"We're going to be okay, aren't we?" She murmured sleepily, struggling to keep her eyes open against the bright light of the room.

Surrendering to the light, Molly closed her eyes and listened intently to what sounded like a chair scraping against the floor before feeling the edge of her bed sink a bit under the weight of Charles' tall frame. "Of course we are. Get some rest, sweetheart. We can talk properly when you're feeling a bit better. I think I have some explaining to do."

Molly's medically-induced high was already evident in her smirk as she settled comfortably into her pillows, making a noise of agreement at Charles' words. Judging by the look on her face, he doubted whether she had even heard him. Nevertheless, he leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Love you." She yawned, wincing once again at the pain that shot through her broken ribs as she did so.

Choking on the sudden lump in his throat, Charles whispered back, "I love you more," smoothing her face from her bruised and battered face as he did so.

I don't care about the lights or the beams, I'd spend my life in the dark for the sake of you and me

"At ease, James." Lieutenant Colonel Beck welcomed the Major into the spacious meeting room, smiling as his old friend joined them standing at the large planning table in the middle.

"Charlie boy! How's our Molls doin'?" Elvis greeted his best friend with a pat on the back, grinning widely at the sight of Charles striding to meet him. It almost felt like old times. Beck massaged his temples with the knowledge that, after many years of working with Elvis, there was no point in trying to remind him of the British Army's code of conduct or its formality.

"She's doing better." He tried his best to hide his tired voice, but his efforts did little in meeting Elvis' genuinely happy tone.

Studying the extensive maps and photographs on the white table, Charles raised his eye to meet the concerned expression on Beck's face.

Beck began, "You're probably wondering why I asked you to join us, James." Charles nodded, looking at Elvis in an attempt to figure out what was going on. "Special Forces have been working endlessly to track down Zemaray and his cell. And they've found them."

Elvis moved excitedly towards the digital terrain map that was being projected onto the wall in front of them. Grabbing the remote, he expertly made the screen zoom into a small town fifty miles west of the Iran-Afghan border. Sighing dramatically, Elvis put on his hard-done-by expression and smiled at his friend. "Not sayin' it's been easy or anything, Charlie boy, but with men of our talents it was nothing we couldn't handle." Winking at the small team he had brought with him, he continued. "After they fled the compound from which the primary was recovered, we received intelligence that suggested the men were in hiding in a small village in Iran. However, we couldn't find any evidence of this when we used a drone."

Beck watched Charles carefully as he rolled his tongue around his mouth, a characteristic trait of his when we was deep in thought as he studied the images Elvis was showing him.

"On further investigation we discovered that the cell were moving east, heading towards the Afghan border. With this knowledge, we have tracked them down to a compound less than one hundred miles from the border. They are still there, and we have them under constant surveillance." The map zoomed in on the isolated compound in question.

Crossing his arms defensively across his chest, Charles frowned. "So why haven't you gone in and captured them?"

Pausing for dramatic effect, Elvis spoke slowly. "We have reason to believe that they are planning an attack. It would be extremely dangerous for Special Forces to breech the compound on a solo basis."

Charles was taken by surprise by Kinders' voice as he hadn't even realised he was there. "That is why I have volunteered to lead the Under Fives in a supportive role alongside Special Forces." Realising that this would mean his beloved Two Section would be facing the cell for the third time in their lives, Charles closed his eyes briefly in an attempt to connect the dots.

"The ANA cannot get involved in operations in Iranian territory. Especially without formally receiving permission from the Iran government, and we don't have the time to sit and wait around for that." Beck answered the question that was forming in Charles' head. Nodding slowly, Charles fixed his stern-face on Elvis.

"We need your help, Charlie." Meeting his stern expression, Elvis put on his infamous puppy-dog eyes that he knew his friend had never been able to resist.

Surely Beck wouldn't allow this. Looking at him for back-up against what he was sure Elvis was suggesting, Beck rolled his eyes, indicating that his hands were tied. "As I'm sure you have realised, Charles, under army regulations you are prohibited from engaging in any act that runs the risk of emotional involvement." Elvis snorted at this, knowing fully-well how well Charles had tried to carry out his career influenced by the strength of army regulations and emotional involvement; after all, it had been him that he had called when he realised he had feelings for Molly when they were in Afghanistan together all those years ago, and it had been him who had told Charles to 'wise the fuck up and get his girl' or else he would personally engrave his precious army regulations onto his headstone.

Casting a warning glance at Elvis who was now standing proudly beside him, Beck continued, "But, as you also know, I have previously overruled these regulations to allow you to recover Dawes from the compound." Choosing his words carefully, as though he despised himself for going against every principle in his body, he rolled his eyes to himself and frowned. "I have to say that I do agree with this fucking dimwit on my left that you are, without a doubt, the person in the whole of this bastard camp that has the most knowledge and understanding of Zemaray, and for that reason your input on this would be invaluable. I have cleared it with the powers that be and, if you're willing, ... we need your help, Charles."

Watching Lieutenant Colonel Beck plead for his help was not something that Charles ever expected to witness in his life, and the significance of this was not lost on him as he anxiously pulled at the curls on the back of his neck.

A few days previously, Elvis had visited Beck strictly off the record to express his fears that the Major was thinking of leaving the army behind as soon as they touched down at Brize, as throughout his time in Iraq it had become extremely clear in his phone-calls and FaceTimes that his friend was struggling with being on tour and was becoming incredibly war-weary. In his own words, he was just 'tired' of it all and longed to be at home with his wife. But both men knew what an exceptional officer he was, and Beck was determined to get Charles to rediscover his love for what he did. He didn't blame him, of course, as he had come very close to losing his wife and it was obvious that he was still deeply struggling with that. However, he knew that he would personally mourn the loss of the greatest officer he had ever served with and, for that reason, he couldn't let him go. Not yet.

But the very thought of putting his brothers, the men he had fought with for years, in even more danger because of him made the bile rise from his stomach and burn his throat. He couldn't analyse the last few weeks without coming to the conclusion every single time that this tour had been a massive fuck-up from the get go all because of him.

He had been too busy self-destructing his marriage, and even himself to an extent, to realise how much danger Molly was in, and for that he had endangered not only her but all of Camp Palisade. What had happened to her had been his fault, and for that he would never forgive himself.

But he also knew that he would never forgive those that had done this to her with their own bare hands. And what if he couldn't stop? What if, when he saw those bastards who called themselves men, he couldn't stop? He wanted to hurt them - of course he did - but what if he went too far? He'd heard stories throughout his career of men who had fell victim to an irrational furor that was so strong they couldn't fight it; stories he had studied all his life ever since he had learned of great men who had let their own hubris cause their own downfall, men like Achilles, Turnus and even Caesar. For the first time in his life, Charles was beginning to understand what had driven Smurf to madness that day on the bridge. And he couldn't put his men in even more danger.

But even then, when he thought about these fears, he was unsure whether he was scared that the anger he feared would consume him was only misplaced guilt. Was he trying to take out his own feelings of letting Molly down by beating it out of those men in the name of revenge? in the name of justice? A natural justice he had yet to see take place in all the years he had spent in Afghanistan.

Did he have the self-control anymore to stop himself? Could he make Molly proud of him again?

He had to show Molly that he could make everything right in her world once again. That he could be the husband he had vowed to be.

He had to try.

"Okay." Charles nodded as he expanded the gap between his legs and crossed his arms once again over his broad chest.

The old Charles was slowly coming back.

They had to win.

He had to win.

Tell me, what did I do wrong? I feel like that question has been posed so I'm moving on. The only way to go is up; them old bitches so whack, I'm so tough... wassup?

"He's a good'un, your Major." The friendly ginger nurse winked as she replaced Molly's morphine drip.

The brunette's pained expression as she tried to turn her head to face the nurse said it all about how she was feeling after her nap. Realising that it hurt too much to move, Molly made a noise of enquiry.

"Major James. He never left your side, y'know, the whole time you were in the coma. We had to practically beg him to get some air for five minutes, and even then we were fighting a losing battle. It took a tall bloke with a daft name to get him to leave eventually." The nurse giggled quietly to herself at the fond memory of the man flirting his way through the nurses station.

"That'd be Elvis then." Molly exhaled a hoarse laugh as the nurse adjusted her pillows.

"Ah yes, I remember now," she comically rolled her eyes at Molly. "I take it him and your husband are good friends then?"

It was hurting more and more to talk. Yawning, Molly nodded. "He's his best mate!"

"You underestimate yourself, Molly." The nurse's smile was met with a confused frown. "The amount of time he spent in here just sitting with you, talking to you... that's real love, Molly. I wish I was half as lucky as you are to have a man that worships you!"

The pain in her body prevented her from making any dramatic movements, but the nurse was sure she could make out a small shrug. "Things weren't that good with us before... before this. We had a big row. I was such a cow to him." Molly could feel the tears gather at the back of her eyes. She had missed him so much.

"I guessed as such. I think for the first forty-eight hours the only words that came from his mouth were, 'I'm so sorry.' He loves you Molly, really bloody loves you. And before you know it, we'll be packing you back off to England where he can look after you."

Molly felt a tear fall down her cheeks and tried to smile to cover it up. Taking her hand, the nurse wiped the tear away with her tissue and smiled. "Get some rest, Molly. And think about what I said." And with a nod, she was gone, leaving Molly to quickly surrender herself to yet another heavy sleep.

You and me could make it rain now. You and me could stop this love drought.

Molly's eyes burned against the bright light coming through her open door. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep for as she had been sleeping on and off all day, and the morphine had kept the dreams that she knew would eventually come away, but judging by the soft glow of the nightlight on the wall beside her it was definitely nighttime. It wasn't until she looked up that she realised why her room had felt so bright for a brief moment.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Charles' sleepy voice came from in front of the now-closed door. "Were you sleeping?"

It wasn't until she remembered that the room was black that she realised her husband most likely couldn't see her faint shake of the head, but it was enough effort to say, or rather croak out, what she wanted to. "What time is it?"

"It's just after 0100 hours. Sorry, Beck asked to see me and it ran over." She watched him in the faint light as he took off his watch and placed it on the arm of the chair before he slid off his combat jacket. He watched this time as she nodded and looked at him with uncertainty. "What is it?"

His tired eyes stared back at her, and it was only now that she could really see him. Her Charlie. He was definitely thinner than she remember, and his face was less filled out than it had been. He also looked older, and she longed to run her fingers over the deep worry-lines that had emerged on his beautiful, but pale, face over the last few weeks. Even the way he stood and carried himself was different - it was as though he was less sure of himself, less confident - something she never imagined her husband would be. He looked like a broken man who just needed a hug. She knew he was sorry.

"Will you lie with me, Charlie?" He could just about make out the small movement of her head towards the small empty space beside her on the tiny single bed. Smiling, he untied his boots and sat himself down beside her gently, careful not to disturb any of the tubes or wires around her.

"Of course." Moving her gently so that his chest was slightly behind her, he lay down beside his wife and took her in his arms. Wrapping one of his arms across her shoulders, he moved in and gently planted a kiss onto her temple before moving back and closing his eyes, waiting for a much-needed sleep to come. In response, Molly used the little energy she had and draped her thin arm across his chest, planting a small kiss on it as she did so.

She didn't need to speak. The small act of affection was enough for him.

They would be okay. Charles would make sure of it.

Hi guys! 🙈

I genuinely am incredibly sorry that this has taken me so long once again. I won't bore you with any excuses because I know you're all tired of hearing them, but it turns out that university is a lot harder than I thought! Nevertheless, semester one and exams/deadlines/assignments are now over and I'm slowly beginning to feel like myself again lol! I can't thank you enough for all your lovely reviews and private messages asking where I am. I'm afraid that sometimes I get so embarrassed about the lack of updates that I procrastinate doing so because I'm the Queen of bad updates hahah, but your words of kindness and encouragement light up my darkest hours and I love each and every one of you.

As I've said before, this story will definitely be finished and it's definitely now a matter of soon rather than later. I'm going to make more of an effort to post regular updates as I now have a general idea of what my uni timetable/lifestyle will be like now that I've completed the first semester. Thank you for not giving up on me yet, if it wasn't your support I would have given up on this story, and probably myself, many moons ago.

Speaking of droughts, how are you all coping without Our Girl? I throughly recommend 'Derry Girls' on channel 4 - it's great to see my wee country on TV for a positive reason ;) hahah

Until next time (which will hopefully be later in the week as I am off after my exams!),

Love always,

Sarah Xxx

P.S. I also hope that you all had an amazing Christmas and a Happy New Year! Here's to a fan-fic-filled year in 2018 ;) xxx

Also, please leave a review to let me know if you're still here, it would mean the world to me :) 💛

DISCLAIMER: the Jay-Z songs (I thought they were only appropriate given that this is based on 'Lemonade') mentioned are 'Song Cry' (my personal fave!) and 'Jay Z Blue', if you're interested x