AN - I know, I know, but I couldn't leave it alone, and felt 'the chat' gnawing at me till I got it down on paper. This definitely isn't going to be any kind of big multi chapter story, but there are certain moments along the way that I can picture, and I'll try to add them if I can. I know this second one is in danger of not being a lot of people's cup of tea, and it's the most dialogue heavy thing I've ever done, but I needed to get it out! Thanks so much to anyone who took the time to read the first chapter, you're all very kind.

Cos the love that you gave that we made
Wasn't able to make it enough for you
To be open wide, no
And every time you speak her name
Does she know how you told me
You'd hold me until you died
'Til you died, but you're still alive

And I'm here, to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It's not fair, to deny me
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know

(You Oughta Know, Alanis Morrisette)

April 2020

As Charles watched the door open and close with the passage of customers arriving and then leaving with their takeaway coffees, he felt his heart sink with the passing realisation that she probably wasn't going to turn up. At this point, the nervousness he felt was beginning to convince him that she'd made the right call. He'd had to ask Sam for her new number to check in with her and test the waters on whether she was still open to hearing from him - to his surprise she was.

He was now regretting the agreement to meet at a Starbucks in the middle of central London though. What he really wanted to do was sit down with her in the house they'd shared. The same one he hadn't been able to bring himself to sell, where they could speak in private. He knew that the unfairness of asking her to do that would have been the wrong way to start things off, and he didn't want to push her. He'd travelled to Molly, knowing she was still visiting her family after her return from Sudan.

The door opened again, and he caught the flash of her now short dark hair as she swept in the door, shaking an umbrella to the outside world to get rid of the excess rain, and scanning the tables for a familiar face. As he caught her eye and beckoned with his head towards the table he'd claimed at the opposite end of the room, he felt the sheen of sweat start to form on his palms, and swiped them on his jeans. On her approach she didn't seem to have the same nervousness, and his leg rose up and down with anticipation, accidentally hitting the top of the table. His mind swept back to that similar nervous time in Bath as he waited for her to arrive for their first date. Back then, the relief when he'd seen her make her way to the table was palpable. Now, he could only feel regret and shame pulse in his veins and he longed for a moment for times gone past, when things were so much simpler.

She avoided any form of familiar greeting, focusing on taking off her coat and placing it over the chair as he tried to figure out whether a kiss on the cheek was too much and too soon. He didn't have a chance to test the theory. Her place at the seat opposite him was taken awkwardly, a brief smile when she met his eyes.

"Alright?"

He fumbled with the napkins on the table, folding the corner over with nimble fingers to start to make a triangle. He knew he had to get a grip of his nervousness and took a deep breath for confidence. "I'm good. You?"

"Been better." She shook her head with a sigh of frustration that he recognised from whenever she spent an extended period of time at home with her parents. "I need to get out of my Mum and Dad's gaff, they're driving me up the bleedin' wall already." For a moment he felt like he'd travelled back in time to when things between them were natural and familiar as she tasted the tea in front of her before she leaned forwards to grab an extra sugar from his side of the table and stir it in. "Nan's hooked up with some chancer from down the market. She's managed to fill the whole place with some knock off shampoo she reckons she's gonna make a mint off. The bleedin labels ain't even in English!" As she rolled her eyes to the heavens at the usual Dawes shenanigans, a feeling of loss suddenly attacked Charles from nowhere. He hadn't just lost Molly. He'd cut himself off from a family who'd accepted him without question and treated him like he'd always been there. It pained him to think what they must think of him now but he couldn't stop himself.

"Good old Nan. How is she?"

She paused for a moment, blowing on the hot liquid that steamed up before her. "Not your biggest fan. I managed to talk her out of a murder charge, but it was close."

He closed his eyes for a moment as the familiar feeling of regret washed over him. "I won't take a trip to East Ham any time soon then."

"Nah, I'd avoid the place if I was you. Not unless you're plannin' on taking a weapon for backup." Feeling uncomfortable with the clear sadness she faced on the other side of the table, she gestured to the cup of tea in front of her. "Thanks for the cuppa."

"Thank you. For agreeing to meet me. I wasn't sure you would."

She grinned tightly, the motion not meeting her eyes. "Couldn't put it off forever, could I?"

"Honestly?" His brow furrowed as he made a face that he hoped conveyed the discomfort he was currently feeling. "I wouldn't have blamed you for trying."

She didn't answer, simply wrapping her hands around the mug in front of her, not knowing how to move beyond small talk and onto the real reason they were here. Charles was in the same mode and grasped for anything to talk about except for the elephant in the room. "How was Sudan?"

"Same shit, different place." She looked exhausted for a moment before painting a smile back on her face. "Sorry. I'm still a bit off, you know? Trying to get back to whatever normal is." Their eyes met for a moment as she paused. She knew he could identify with that odd post tour feeling that she couldn't quite put her finger on. "I'm not sure you asked me here to ask about the shittin' hot weather out there, or just how many different ways the tosspots in my section can wind me up, did you?"

As much as he wanted to know the detail of what was going on in her life now, he knew he couldn't put the awkward conversation off for any longer with small talk. The words of Sarah rung in his ears as he tried to keep on top of the jolting surge of his heartbeat. She waited expectantly for him to start, her gaze never venturing from his.

"I still want to know all about your world. But yes, I think we do need to have a conversation. If you're ready to?"

"Trust me." Her steely gaze began to waver. "I'll never be ready to hear the ins and outs of this. But I need to. I need to hear it, so I can try and fix my own nut." At his curious glance, she looked up and met his eyes, explaining reluctantly. "You ain't the only one who has to see a shrink."

Her words floored him temporarily. "Shit. I'm so sorry Molly."

"Not all your fault. I've got my own stuff to deal with, goes back from before you. Not sayin' it helped that the one person I trusted shat on me from a great height, but there you go."

He wished the ground would swallow him whole as he tried to fight the urge to physically reach out to her. "I'm sorry. I'm aware of the many things I got wrong, but the most unforgivable one was destroying your trust in me."

She shrugged for a moment, struggling for the words she'd tried to organise in her brain already. "You weren't the only one that got things wrong, I can see that a bit better now. I'm still fucking angry about how it all went down, but I can start to see where I went wrong a bit."

He sighed, having already feared that this would be on her mind. "You shouldn't blame yourself. You tried to get me to see reason. You were the only one who knew I was sick. I was so delusional that I managed to convince myself you were the one in the wrong, that it was all in your head. I thought I knew best."

Molly raised her head, and for the first time, he saw the glassy tears of his own reflected in her eyes. "I know what it's like to lose your best mate in front of your eyes too, you know? To be convinced that if you'd acted differently they'd still be here." Silence took over for a minute as she struggled to explain. "I loved Elvis as well. He was a cocky little prick at times.." They both shared a smile that felt foreign for a brief moment "But he was lovable with it. I wanted us to get through it together."

"I know you did." He tried and failed to stop his own eyes filling this time. I can't give a rational explanation because there just isn't one. Sarah says.."

There was no chance to finish the sentence. "Who the fuck's Sarah?"

"My counsellor."

"Oh right, sorry." She trailed off, but not before he'd caught her horrified look.

The sudden fire in her eyes clicked with Charles as he realised what she was thinking. "If you're asking if I'm with somebody, no." He shook his head to reinforce the point. "A resounding no."

"What about her?" Molly's face suddenly dropped any emotion except for anger, and he realised they were headed to dangerous territory. "Bin you off did she?"

He took a deep breath, knowing he'd never be ready for the chat that was coming. "If you mean Lane, no."

"I do mean her, yeah. She's the elephant in the room ain't she? I mean most elephants don't have stuck-on pointy tits or the perfect face, but not many of us have that, do we?"

He cut her off before she could continue "I know you're angry with me, but that's not what it was about. That's not ever what it was about."

"I'm not just angry with you. I'm angry with both of you. That's been downgraded from humiliated and devastated. That lasted me a good year or so. I'm hoping to move on to mildly pissed off soon." She sniffed a small smile at her joke, despite not finding it remotely funny.

"If you're asking how long it lasted, the answer is a lot less than you've probably convinced yourself. I went downhill fast after we came home from Bangladesh. It became obvious quite quickly that I wasn't functioning, and I wasn't alone. She was suffering from PTSD as well." Molly suddenly looked like she might stand and bolt from the table, but to his surprise she remained seated, shoulders tense. "I know it must hurt to hear this. Christ, it hurts to even say it."

Molly picked up one of the remaining sugar sachets, trying to concentrate on anything but the dull ache in her body that went with picturing him with Georgie. Time had lessened the pain a little, but sometimes a ferocious moment of loss would consume her when she least expected it. She didn't want it to hit her now and stop her from telling him what he needed to hear.

"It hurts you?" She started quietly before increasing in confidence. "Put yourself in my shoes. What if I'd done it?"

He was in equal mixtures flummoxed and wary of what her next words would be, watching her carefully, as if she were a wild, untamed animal that he needed to be wary of. "Done what?"

She stared for a beat, keeping her voice low so that her words could only be heard by them and not the girl collecting empty cups two tables away. "Shagged somebody else"

He felt the wave of revulsion through his body before she'd had a chance to finish her sentence. "Molly. Don't-"

"It ain't nice is it." She stared him dead in the eye, her expression hard. "Wondering what could have happened." Her tone became suddenly low and wistful. "Thinking about them warm, sweaty, lonely nights on tour. What if I'd got to breaking point one night and gone to my CO's tent looking for comfort?"

He knew exactly where she was going with this and he desperately tried to halt the direction the conversation was headed. "Please?"

There was no stopping Molly now. "You'd be sat home alone, always wondering, always tormenting yourself over how many times, and how many different ways we'd done it. Did I enjoy it?" The moment lingered between them as he tried not to visualise what she urged him to. "Did I whisper his name into his shoulder when I came. Or was I louder than that? Did I make enough noise for the others to hear? Was he on top, or was it me taking charge and letting him know just how I liked it. Where I wanted to be touched."

"Christ Molly. Stop." His head was now in his hands, his palms boring into his eyes as he tried to erase the images she'd just introduced to his brain. "I've already told you, it wasn't like that.."

She couldn't stop herself now, the emotions washing over her like it had only just happened yesterday. "Wasn't like what? Like sex? Cos that's exactly what it was. I've heard the whispers behind my back at barracks, on ops, all the snide little comments. She came to your tent in the night and you fucked her." Her last comment was barely more than a whisper. "You wasn't gonna wait out for her like you forced us to do in Afghan, were you? Is it cos you wanted her more than me? Was she more of a challenge, was that it?"

He slammed his palm onto the table, harder than he'd meant to do and causing the cups to shake ominously for a moment. "For fuck's sake Molly!"

"Don't 'for fuck's sake' me! If I'm gonna talk to you about all this shit then you need to hear it, and I need to say it."

He remained silent, his eyes boring into the table until her next statement. "I had to go to the fucking STD clinic you know!" Her voice lowered as she looked around her, suddenly aware of her volume. They were starting to attract stares from the few occupied tables at the other side of the room, and the last thing she needed was to be overheard. "To get tested for all sorts. Didn't even trust that you'd be bloody smart enough to wear a condom when you were shagging around. D'you have any idea how that felt?"

He tried desperately to pull her back from the sudden rage he could feel radiating from her. "I need you to understand that I wasn't thinking straight at the time. Under normal circumstances.."

She interrupted him with a muffled cry of frustration as it was her turn to bury her face in her hands, her words temporarily muffled. "Oh I know you wasn't thinking straight!" Molly met his eyes, the anger making way for helplessness. "I was there, I was living it with you! I begged you to get help. I literally got on my knees and begged you to speak to somebody, anybody. All you did was run further and further away from me. You forced me out of our marriage."

He could hear the frustration in her voice, and shared the feeling. "I only wish I'd listened to you sooner. I was in denial. About everything. You were the only one who knew me well enough to know what was truly going on in my head, so I pushed you away. I know that now." Her silent stare urged him to continue. "I convinced myself that the only thing that would help was more tours, righting the wrongs I'd committed." He let out a deep sigh of helplessness at just how out of control the conversation was getting. "I couldn't have been more wrong. Christ, I was a mess. I'm lucky they still let me stay in the army after the fuck ups I made, not even including Lane."

The volume of the groan that came from her surprised then both, before she wiped her now damp eyes with the sleeve of the jumper she'd pulled over her hand. "You know, I'm upset with myself as much as anything. For it coming as a surprise. When we first got together, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to wake up and realise that you weren't meant to end up with a gobshite CMT who wasn't even anywhere near your league."

"You know for a fact that's bullshit." He tried to cut the familiar words off before she finished. She'd always had the same low opinion of herself.

"It's not though." She shook her head adamantly. "It was never gonna last between us, but I let you convince me I was wrong about that. You broke down everything I put in the way to defend myself. You made me believe in myself. In us. Until it was all gone and I had nothing left to defend myself with."

Charles' eyes focused on the now cold liquid pooling in his coffee cup, unable for a moment to meet her eyes and look at the pain he'd caused her. He finally found the courage to look up. "If there's one thing I need you to know, it's that my actions were down to me. I let both of us down, and it wasn't because of anything you did or didn't do. You couldn't have changed the outcome."

Her eyes almost bore a hole into his own as she stared him down. "I don't believe you."

"I know. Believe me, I know." Unsure of what to say to try and convince her, he leaned back and raised his eyes to the ceiling for a moment, arms crossed and hands tucked firmly under his armpits so that he wasn't tempted to reach forward. "It took me a hell of a long time to be able to trust myself again, to trust my own mind. I'm still sorting the shit from the clay now, but I'm getting there."

Her eyes pulled away temporarily as the clink of cups announced an arrival at one of the tables close to them. It made her lean forward towards him to lower the volume of their conversation. "I'm sorry."

"I think we've established you've nothing to be sorry about."

"Maybe I gave up too soon, forced you to do what you did. I shouldn't have taken any tours. Stayed home and made you get help." The tear that rolled down her cheek was swiftly followed by another stream before he untucked his arms and dared to lean forward across the table and brush her cheek clear with one thumb. She didn't stop him, but the tears continued to flow.

"Molly.." He stared her down and continued to apply pressure with his thumb, unable to stop himself from comforting her in some way. She looked away, overwhelmed, but he continued to speak. "I didn't leave you with any choice."

She returned her eyes to his, hesitating only for a minute before she spoke.

"Do you love me?"

The words took him back to another time, to a dusty road in Afghan, when the fear of that question and his feelings was palpable. Now his only fear was losing her forever, and he answered without hesitation.

"Yes" his voice caught with the emotion of the next words from his mouth. "Always."

He couldn't stop his other hand from also placing itself on her cheekbone, their heads meeting for a brief second as he continued to catch her tears and asked the question he dreaded the answer to.

"Can you ever forgive me Molly?"

She closed her eyes for a second, smaller palms raising to grasp his where they met her face.

He felt a shudder from her shoulders and knew she was trying to hold back the tears before they turned into a sob. His hands were pulled down from her face by her own hands, and returned to his side of the table. Her fingers pressed against his for an extra few seconds before they withdrew.

"I don't know."

Charles exhaled a breath he didn't even realise he was holding, the crushing wave of uncertainty crashing over him.

After a pause, she continued. "I think you need time. To sort your world out." She sniffed for a second, composing herself once more. "I think I need to do the same."

Before Charles could take the time to process her statement, the jacket that had been over the back of her chair was grasped as she rose to her feet without warning.

"Thanks. For being honest with me."

She was gone before he could stand and follow her, threading through the tables to make as swift an exit as possible, leaving her umbrella on the floor in her wake.

"Molly!" he grabbed the only physical evidence that she'd been there with him and took off from his thick wooden chair, bumping his hip on two other tables and muttering an apology as he left.

He tried to ignore the ache of discontent coming from his leg at the sudden movement; the long term pain from his injury just another part of his new reality that he was forced to deal with. His feet reached the damp pavement outside, eyes scanning the packed pavement for any sign of her. He didn't have to look far. She'd practically broken out into a run as she crossed the street, narrowly avoiding a car that beeped to make its presence known as she darted between the traffic.

"Molly!"

His decibel level was thankfully one thing that hadn't changed over the years, and she immediately halted when she safely reached the pavement, back straight, as if she was tempted to stand to attention. He held his hand up by way of apology to the same driver who'd been taken by surprise by two different pedestrians jumping in front of him and reached her on the opposite side of the road. Charles held the soggy umbrella out as a peace offering as she watched him warily, ignoring the light rain that had started to fall again.

"Thought you might need this."

She accepted his offering without a flicker of a smile, although her tears had at least stopped.

"Thanks."

As she turned to restart her route towards the tube station, a wave of foreboding filled him and caused his arm to reach out for her wrist, stopping her.

"There's just one thing."

"What is it Charles?" At his small smile she watched him quizzically, waiting for him to elaborate.

"At least you've stopped calling me Sir."

"Piss off." It was whispered and barely audible but he felt the pain radiating from her.

"I know you need time Moll. And you're right, maybe I do too. And I know I have no right to ask anything of you. But please, when you think of us, try and remember how things used to be. Before it all went to shit."

Her head hung lower. "I don't know if I can."

He leaned forward a fraction, placing his hand under her chin and raising it so that her eyes met his. His hand moved up to her cheek as he moved even closer, hovering his lips over hers for what felt like minutes. She didn't seem to be breathing, her whole body tense. They were barely touching, but he felt the energy surge through his body as if he'd been charged. Shoppers passed through the crowds and bustled past them, completely unaware of the two still figures on the pavement.

Charles moved to drop the briefest whisper of a kiss to her lips, deepening it slightly as he finally felt her body respond and mould itself into him. He felt a drop of water on his thumb and couldn't work out for a minute if it was her tears or raindrops as he pulled his mouth away from hers, struggling to get on top of his racing heart. He was distracted from the same water that had dropped from his own eyelashes, and he felt her fingers brush his own cheek in the same move of sympathy before she sighed wearily and backed away with a simple request.

"Give me time. To try and find my way back."

He watched her back away further, resigning himself as she moved away from him that nothing else was in his control. He'd done what he could for now.

"You know I will."