I've just planned out the next few chapters for this story and I'm super excited to see what you guys think about how the story eventually pans out!
It was well passed midnight when Charles finally retired to bed that night. His rear end hit the hard mattress with a loud thump as unwanted image after image flooded into his brain. He had ghosted like this throughout the day, completely distracted, and he chastised himself for his inability to remain purely professional. He knew the detrimental effect of getting his feelings too involved with a member of the army. With Molly, he'd let his attraction get the better of him and he'd put her, himself and Smurf on the line. With Lane - he'd lost absolutely everything. He lost Molly, Elvis and the respect of his platoon; he'd figuratively lost his life on that tour. And so, Charlie was trying to rid himself of the overwhelming feelings he was experiencing right now. However, that was easier said than done because all Charles found himself thinking about was the elusive Ben Thompson. Because, the truth of the matter was that sending somebody a letter whilst they were deployed was incredibly personal. One's whereabouts when on duty was information that not many soldiers shared with just friends or acquaintances, which left Charlie wondering - who was Ben to Molly?
In his head, he disliked the guy already. He envisioned Ben being the polar opposite to him physically, with dirty blonde hair and pale, freckled skin. He pictured a boring business suit with a boring black tie, a light chavvy accent to match. He could see the pair of them walking around holding hands, kissing after dates. It was like Charles' mind was going on a bender, a jealous bender that stressed Molly moving on. The one image he played over and over in his head was one of them curled up together on a sofa; his ears ringing as he imagined Ben saying Molly's name when they were alone, in her flat.
It was always Molly's favourite thing to do, watch movies under a blanket with an abundance of junk food. In fact, it had been their second date. He still remembered it like it was yesterday. When in Afghan, Charles had promised to wine and dine Molly like she deserved. And it was safe to say, he had been successful in doing so. Their first date had been a good one, a great one, absent of any awkwardness. They had joked around – "did you just wipe cabbage on my hand?" – they had been serious, and they had been openly affectionate. It had been perfect, and Charles thought it couldn't have been topped, especially since their first date had concluded in what Molly comedically referred to as 'going halves on a Travelodge.'
So, Charles had been pleasantly surprised when Molly had managed to top their first date, a day (and night) of perfection. It had all started with the element of surprise. Charlie had been getting taxis to and from his physiotherapy sessions and had been pleasantly surprised to the smell of a home cooked cottage pie one weekend. Unconventionally, she stopped by with a bouquet of flowers that sat in a vase upon the dining table and she was dressed in his mum's floral apron. There was just something so domesticated about the sight of her and Charlie was glad he had made Molly aware of the spare key under the flower pot.
"What are you doing here?" He'd hobbled towards her, his ankle boot still restricting his movement.
"Makin' sure ya eat proper." Molly turned her nose up at the endless amount of baked beans she'd found stacked in his cupboard. "You'd think a Rupert like you'd at least go for the branded stuff-"
"Hmm." Charlie wrapped both his arms around Molly's petite waist, forcing her body into his own. She'd had to go back to London the day after their first date and this was the first time he was seeing her since then. The feeling of her in his arms made him feel content and a light sigh left his lips as she snuggled into him. "I missed you."
"I missed you too." Molly mumbled against his shirt, her nose inhaling that musky scent of him that she loved too well. "How's your leg doing?"
"Alright, sore." At that mention, Molly sat Charles down, her hand resting against his knee as she crouched in front of him.
"Well, it's a good thing I'm 'ere to look after you. You might gonna wanna need a medic."
"I thought we talked about this," Charles frowned a little, his fingers brushing her hair tenderly behind her ear. "You're not going to find whatever you're looking for here, babysitting me whilst I get better-"
"Chill out, you worry wart." Molly's face lit up with a smile. "And stop tryna get rid of me. I'm training new meds at the barracks starting the end of this month, till then … I'm all yours boss."
"I definitely love the sound of that!" Charles smirked. Carefully avoiding his injured leg, he hoisted Molly up from her position on the floor and settled her onto his lap. "It means I can do this-" After what felt like years, Charles' lips settled over Molly's. His right hand found itself into her hair whilst his mouth devoured hers slowly. A throaty moan rumbled at the back of Molly's throat, her head falling back just a tad at the sensation that she was oh so familiar with and yet oh so deprived of due to their differing locations. As the pace picked up and their kisses grew more feverish, the oven timer went off and the two pulled away reluctantly.
Before Molly hopped out of his lap, she whispered into Charles' ear, "it means I can make you watch The Omen with me."
Charles had presumed she was joking. But once dinner was done with, she had ushered him into the living room where blankets and pillows had been arranged strategically.
"What's all of this?"
"It's movie night!" The only thing missing from Molly's sentence was, duh! And Charles chuckled before nestling onto the couch with her. Truthfully, he hadn't been paying much attention to the movie as it progressed. He'd been distracted by the way Molly's face lit up at certain scenes and the way she jumped in his hold as the horror kicked in. He put an arm around her protectively as she hid in his torso, her eyes peaking up to catch glimpses of the scary stuff. "Can we watch a 'appy one after?"
"Sure." Charlie shook his head in mocking disbelief and kissed the crown of hers.
They'd watched Dirty Dancing after that. Molly singing softly in his ear with the warmest of smiles upon her lips. Charles loved that about her, her ability to be content without the need for excessive makeup or expensive restaurants. It became something that they did often, the watching movies thing. Charles enlightened her with the exposure to old time classics whilst Molly added a youthfulness with her desire to work their way through the Marvel Comic Universe.
And her smile from all those movie nights was what burned at the forefront of Charles' brain. It was bright and full of magnetism and almost instantaneously, an unruly truth settled over Charlie – he'd given up the right to make her smile like that again.
Because he was the fuck up. He was the one who had pissed off with somebody else. And whilst lying in that bed, with but his painful memories of his once happy marriage, Charlie had never felt more alone. Even though he was aware that Molly was just a few quarters down from him, he missed her, gravely.
That same lonely dreadfulness followed him as he awoke the next morning. There was a dark cloud over him, despite the overbearing morning sun and he walked around with a permanent scowl on his face. He dredged to the mess hall and just about grunted at the two section lads as he headed straight for the coffee that could just about be called coffee. He thought it would help, the concoction of water and caffeine, but honestly, it didn't have its desired effect. He still felt like somebody had pissed in his Coco Pops.
"You alright, boss?" Fingers slid onto the bench opposite Charles, immediately detecting his off mood at the crack of dawn.
"You wanna learn to mind your own business, Private?" Charles hadn't meant to snap at Fingers, especially because he knew he cared, but the words were out before he could stop them. It was a classic case of foot in mouth syndrome.
"I'm just tryna help, man." Fingers didn't take Charlie's words personally, he knew he got like this when everything went tits up, and so Fingers just raised his arms up in a gesture of surrender. As he did, a group of six section walked in for some breakfast and Charles' eyes immediately drifted to Molly. Her hair was still loose and framing her face and she wore a tiny smile as she conversed with members of her platoon. It still stunned him how beautiful she was and without a word to Fingers, Fingers knew the reason behind his boss' shitty mood. "You've go'a stop being so hard on yourself."
In all honesty, Charles wanted to confess everything to Fingers. He wanted to tell him how he couldn't stop thinking about his wife with someone else – how the thought made him want to gauge his eyes out. He wanted to explain how he felt like a failure; how he'd ruined everything. But despite wanting to divulge all of his emotions to his friend, he knew, as Fingers' CO, that he needed to keep his mouth shut.
On the contrary, Fingers couldn't give a shit about their hierarchal positions in the army. He kept talking; almost as if he had the ability to read his boss' mind. "Maybe you need to start thinking 'bout how you're not going to fail her again." Fingers was a good soldier and he knew the importance of having a clued-on head whilst on the field. It was literally a matter of life and death and he knew that the most important thing that Charlie could do for Molly now was to insure she got home in one peace. "Look this ain't gonna be easy and I'm not saying she'll take you back but … you gotta sort your head out, boss. One mistake and she's fucked. We all are."
Fingers didn't even wait for a response, he got up from his seat and returned to the rest of the team, leaving Charlie to ponder his words carefully. Of course, Fingers had been right. Aside from whatever Charles was feeling, his priority was to make sure Molly got home safe. For now, that was all he could do for her. And when they both got home, bodies intact, he was going to talk to her. He was going to beg for forgiveness – whether they got back together or not – he needed her in his life, for his own sanity. Up until that point arrived, he needed to be a good Commanding Officer - nobody else was going to die under his watch.
"Alright, lads, ops room as soon as your done."
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, both two and six section were being requested out onto the grounds of Israel. They had been cooped up on the army base for days now, the lot of them going slightly insane in each other's constant company within a small surface area. Mock exercises had entertained them for long enough and now suddenly, they were all geared up and excited for some real work.
"Kits on and ready for departure by zero nine hundred hours. Make sure you buggers are hydrated as well, it's hot out today." Once everyone was done eating their fill, both Captains ushered the two sections towards their quarters. Over the course of breakfast, everybody had been instructed on the day's objective; humanitarian work. With the temperature scorching and conflict between the Arabs Israeli's continuing, the platoons' purpose was to assist anybody and everybody they saw that needed help. Whether it was handing out water bottles or providing medical care to the needy, everybody was equipped for a generally smooth sailing session.
But, as being in the army had taught many, regardless of how prepared one was, nothing was ever as smooth as sailing as you hoped.
As the six-section military jeep pulled up at the grounds of a neighbouring village, they found themselves immersed in a state of chaos. Amidst the dusty atmosphere, people were running in all directions and the distant ring of sirens sounded in the background. Shrieks came from everywhere and Molly blinked a few times, her mind unsure of what direction to look in.
"Boss?" Everyone in the platoon was virtually dumbfounded, and Molly turned to her Commanding Officer for official orders. However, it seemed Captain Adams was also trying to wrap his head around everything. His mouth was gaping, and his head was frequently turning this way and that; almost as if he were deciding which place was the best to start.
As everybody tried to figure out what to do next, Molly spotted something that sent a cold shiver of worry down her spine. She could see smoke; grey smoke. It had been a part of her schooling, in the past year, to detect the differences between dangerous and easily dismissive smoke. It hadn't been anything of significance, just a quick fact learnt in a lesson in working with burn victims. Smoke from moisture was white, harmless in most cases. Smoke in the colours tan, brown or grey was emitted because of the burning of wood, moisture and hydrocarbons. In simpler terms, it meant something, or someone had been set alight. Before anybody else could notice the smoke in the distance, six section's accompanying platoon – two section – pulled up in the parking spot beside them. Using this as a distraction, Molly went sprinting into the depths of the frantic crowds.
Molly knew it was a stupid, stupid move. As she ran, she knew she was going to get a bollocking when she got back. It was one of the fundamentals of war, never go into battle on your own. She was a part of a team, and she knew that, but seeing the smoke and hearing the screams had been like a kick up her backside. She had been far too helpless in many situations – Smurf's death, her marriage, Chana – she couldn't, wouldn't, let that happen again. She needed to try, at least. And with that, came a sense of recklessness that she'd never experienced before. She hadn't looked towards Captain Adams for his approval, she'd used her instinct and she'd gone for it.
"Dawes! Dawes! What the fuck are you playing at?" Captain Adams screeched just as Charles hopped off his section's jeep. He hadn't been around for long, but he had seen enough; Molly acting on an unofficial order. It had all been a matter of moments, one second Charlie was taking in his messy surroundings and the next he was watching Molly run off amid it all. Her spontaneity had been enough to send panic surging through him. They had no idea what had caused the chaos in the village and he was petrified, of what she was running into, petrified of the unknown.
"Oh shit!" Not thinking about his job or his role as his team's Commanding Officer, Charles' husband persona pushed its way to the forefront. He was worried, visibly, and then, then he spotted the smoke. "Adams-" Charlie pointed at the sky that was gradually greying. People's eyes drifted upwards and then a roar of flames came into sight; bright orange and hissing. Screams grew louder and Charles' panic cemented – fuck, Molly!
"Bleeding hell." Captain Adams cussed under his breathe before yelling over the tropospheric scatter that helped the soldiers communicate with one another. "Kumar take the rest of my section and help with any urgent medical care required." Kumar Lalli simply nodded, despite Captain Adams not being his boss, he aware that with Molly off in the crowds, he was the only medic left. "Dawes, don't you dare go anywhere near that fire, do you hear me? Dawes!"
"Two section, with me." With Molly's safety in mind, Charlie took off in her footsteps with the rest of his platoon. "When the fire is in sight, depending on its magnitude, make sure the area is evacuated and people who need it are getting medical help. Fingers, see if you can get a hold of emergency services, see what's taking them so long."
"Yes, sir."
Using the growing flames as his sense of direction, Charles brought himself and the rest of two section to the fire's source – a home, or a set of homes. There seemed to be police officers at the scene, trying to help, but there were no firefighters or paramedics. There were no agents of social control relevant to the incident and it seemed a bit strange.
"Officer." Charles approached a man in uniform and he stretched out his syllables in hopes he could speak English, thankfully, the man could. "What's going on?"
"Weather cause fire." The officer waved at the growing fire, the sweat dripping off his forehead in buckets. "Nobody to help." His words explained the frenzy of sirens in the distance. With temperatures as high as their current one, natural fires were probably arising in multiple destinations all at once.
"Is there anything we can do to hel-" Charlie's words silenced immediately as he spotted Molly.
"My dä!" A woman nearby was sobbing, her shouts louder than that of anybody else's. Her arm was flailing about, pointing at the direction of the house in front of them. "Daughter, my baby, in there … my life!"
As the woman cried, Molly's actions seemed to slow like she was deliberating something carefully in her head. Charles watched her intently, seeing the thought process painted across her emotive features. As the look of realisation fell upon her features, Charles realised it was too late. He knew what she was about to do and before he could stop her, she raised an arm over her face for protection and then made a run for the burning building. "Molly!" There and then, Charlie was certain time had stopped. His heart lurched into his ribcage and his first instinct was to run after her. He needed to save her and as he proceeded to, an arm in front of him restricted his movements.
"Boss, you can't go in there!"
"Molly is in there-" Charlie fought against the arm stopping him but to no avail. The lads of two section held him back with a force that not even he could fight. "Get out of my fucking way!"
As the hot flames roared aggressively, bits of wooden planks falling out of the sky, Charles had a sudden desire to comfort the crying woman in front of him. Because, he could relate to her, he knew how she felt because … his life was in that burning building too.