Chapter 3:

Disclaimer: If anything, they own me. My heart is theirs.

A/N: Totally stole Captain Rafer's name from Hawaii, but it fit the character, so I'm keeping it. Also, the military information is based off the real U-boat records of Georg von Trapp. The Marionga-Goulandris was the first ship he sunk as captain of the SM U-14 where none of the crew survived. In fact, of the 21 vessels he sunk as a Captain the crew survived nearly all of them! The more you know! Other than that, though, I'm making everything up as I go based on a general knowledge of ships and an active imagination. Enjoy and thank you so much for your super kind support!

Paris, France

"Wow." Maria sighed blissfully.

Georg chuckled and pressed his lips lovingly against her forehead before reluctantly rolling off his still-boneless wife. He propped himself up and leaned his head against his hand as he continued to stare, amazed and highly amused, at Maria.

"I take it that lived up to your expectations, Fraulein." He teased. "I must admit, I don't think I've ever seen you speechless before."

"Not speechless," she breathed quietly, "just…I don't know….okay maybe speechless."

Georg laughed as she tried to recover herself. His earlier worry that she might've been scared by his rakish side quickly dissipated as her smiled continued to beam and her eyes fluttered closed in contentment. At three weeks into their honeymoon, the sight of his naked, sated wife wasn't exactly new to Georg von Trapp, but he was sure it would never get old.

It was hard to believe, though, that the wanton woman beside him was the same blushing bride he'd taken to bed for the first time nearly a month ago. On their wedding night, though she'd had no regrets and was more than eager to snuggle up with him afterwards, Maria had modestly pulled the sheets up over them almost immediately. Now, with her naked body fully on display, she lay flat on her back without a care in the world.

"You know, I'm really glad the rumors turned out to be true."

Maria's soft voice broken through his thought's and he drew his eyes up from other parts of her body to meet her amused gaze.

"Why, Maria von Trapp, you are positively sinful." He gasped in mock-outrage.

She giggled and finally found the strength to roll over onto her side so she could face him. Her fingers wandered across his chest, aimlessly tracing patterns through the soft hair she'd come to love so much.

"I think you're the sinful one, Captain. After all, what did your friend call you? The 'Casanova extraordinaire of the Great War'?" Despite their activities of the last hour, Maria couldn't help but laugh at the title.

"Oh you think that's funny, now? Do you?" He asked incredulously. His voice lowered and he moved devilishly close to her lips. "You weren't laughing a few minutes ago."

Maria's exhaustion left her as his voice sent shivers down her spine. It was almost unfair that he had this much power over her. She moved to kiss the smirk off his face, but he rolled away from her and continued their conversation as if they were still sitting in that damned café.

'Insufferable man.' Maria thought to herself.

"Besides, I hate to disappoint you, but he did exaggerate a great deal, darling. I promise you, I didn't become one of Austria's finest naval heroes by seducing every woman along the coast." Georg's tone remained joking, but Maria could tell he really did want her to understand that his passionate nature was not the result of millions of scandalous liaisons.

"I never thought you did, love." She reassured. "And I wasn't scandalized by it, you know?"

"By what we just did?" He chuckled, "Oh, I know you weren't, my insatiable-."

"No, you arrogant sailor," she chided. Georg stuck his tongue out at her in playful response. "I mean I wasn't bothered by anything that Captain Rafer said at dinner tonight."

"You're sure?" he asked. It didn't seem like she was offended at the time, but he wasn't always proud of his past and he wanted to be sure she was comfortable.

"Yes, Georg, I promise. Besides, if I wasn't okay with it, I wouldn't have dragged you back to the hotel." He seemed to need more than that, so she smiled and continued. "I'm not naïve enough to believe you were a saint in the navy and I don't care. Weren't you the one who told me you didn't mind what happened in my past because it made me the person you loved?"

"Well, that's different…" He reasoned.

"It doesn't have to be." Maria cut him off. "I made the choices I made to survive and so did you. I will never judge you for that."

"That's because you don't know everything that happened outside of the bedroom during the war…" He thought solemnly.

"Georg?" Maria asked softly.

"Sorry, just thinking." He quickly assured.

"Okay. You know you can tell me, right?" She parroted his own words back to him that he'd asked her a million times.

"I know." He sighed. "It's late. Can we talk about it in the morning?"

"Of course." She answered somewhat uncertainly.

Knowing more was on her husband's mind than whatever trysts he'd gotten up to in his early years, Maria got up to brush her teeth and give him space. By the time she returned, he was already fast asleep, so she simply shook her head at him and curled up at his side. He would tell her when he was ready.

The Mediterranean Sea, July 1917

Try as he might, Captain von Trapp couldn't make his cramped quarters feel any less suffocating. Even stripped down to his undergarments, he was drenched in sweat and every time he moved, he could feel the air curl against his skin. A glance at the ceiling frustrated him even further. His daily tally marks now showed two months and two days since their last sinking. His fourth month as captain of this god-forsaken tin can and he only had two cargo sinkings to show for it. He knew his superiors wanted more, but at the moment, the SM-U-14 was in dire need of repairs and until they let him dock and fix it, he wasn't sure what more he could give them.

A knock on the door interrupted his precious break time.

"Captain, sir. You're needed at the helm."

Of course he was.

"Just a minute." He barked through the door.

"Sir, we've picked up the Marionga!"

Georg jumped out of bed and into his uniform as fast as he could. The humidity didn't even faze him. They finally had a mark.

He sprinted to the helm, eager to get a look at the radar screen. His men quickly moved out of the way to let their commander through the tight space. They were just as eager for action.

Sure enough, a blinking dot on the radar screen showed them within range of their target. They'd been tracking the Marionga for weeks, but the Greek cargo vessel had evaded their faulty equipment until now.

"What's our intel, Hans?" Georg asked excitedly.

"Standard cargo, sir. 40 men on board. They're headed to the far Italian coast." Hans replied efficiently.

"Alright, you know the drill. Prep the torpedoes, lock the target, and be ready on my command." Georg instructed.

A surge of pride rushed through him at the resounding sound of "Yes, Captain, sir!" reverberating through the room.

This was it. They'd sink this target, he'd report back, they'd get clearance to fix the submarine, and everything would be okay.

"Hold position!" Georg shouted.

Silence filled the cabin while he waited for the perfect moment.

"Fire!" He commanded.

The vessel lurched with the blowback pressure of the torpedo launch and the soldiers grabbed whatever they could to keep from slamming into the floor. Georg braced himself against mainframe and watched obsessively as the torpedoes sped towards the unsuspecting cargo ship.

"5…4…3…" He counted to himself.

A second wave of tremendous pressure shook the U-14 violently and sent Georg toppling.

"Oh no…" He whispered. It was too early. Two seconds too early and the shock from the explosion shouldn't have been that harsh. They were too close. "Damned useless system!"

One of the younger cadets ran into the room from monitoring the boiler.

"Captain, we're hit!"

"Fritz, seal off the engine room!" He hollered. "Hans, Johannes, we need to surface now!"

"We don't know what happened to the ally ship, sir!" Johannes protested.

"Better than what'll happen to us if we don't surface, now go!" Georg shouted.

The men ran to do as they were told and the rest of the crew stood in their positions. They were going to live. Georg promised them he would get them home to their families and he was going to do it come hell or high water.

He breathed a tense sigh when the engine room was sealed. At least they weren't taking on water. The U-14 began to rise and for once, Georg was grateful that submarine technology still didn't allow them to dive below the point of no return. The U-14 popped unceremoniously out of the water and while the crew acclimated to the drastic change in pressure and armed themselves, Georg threw open the airlock.

Suddenly, he almost wished he'd drowned at the bottom of the ocean.

Despite his experience, he'd never seen the aftermath of the newer torpedo cannons. They always fired and then rerouted to a safe location underwater. They never saw what became of the cargo ships, only that their signals disappeared off the radar sensor.

The site in front of him froze his soul and set his skin ablaze. Towers of smoke poisoned the air relentlessly as the Marionga was consumed in flames. Her engine clearly exploded and the crew was screaming, running wild trying to escape. Georg felt something inside him break as he watched; heard the dying cries of grown men who knew they weren't going to make it. A few, their bodies burning, ran to jump off the side, but most were impaled on the jagged edges of the ruined ship before they hit water.

He had done this. This was what war really looked like. It wasn't uncomfortable quarters and award ceremonies for faceless explosions. War was evil incarnate. He sentenced these men to horrid, torturous deaths. He was a monster, and the worst part, he realized, was that he'd do it all again to save his men's lives, to go back to his own family…like these men never would.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry."

Paris, France, Present Day

"Ow!"

Maria awoke in the middle of the night to a searing pain in her side. Instinctively moving her hands to the spot, she was surprised to discover that the source wasn't her own body, it was her husband's previously-tender hand that was now digging ferociously into her skin.

"Georg." She whispered harshly. "Georg, wake up, you're hurting me."

When he didn't budge, she tried to pry his hand off her, but even in sleep, he was impressively strong. In her wiggling, she noticed an odd, wet sensation on her neck and realized he must've been crying.

"Georg, please wake up!" She shouted.

"No!" He yelled as he was jolted awake.

For a moment, he didn't know where he was. He was so sure he was back on that ship, and this wasn't his room at the villa either. The feel of soft skin gently brushing against his face let him know he wasn't alone.

"Darling, are you okay?" Maria asked worriedly. "Georg?"

The present slowly caught up to him and he finally relaxed at the realization that he was safe. The war was long behind him and he was in bed with his wife on his honeymoon in Paris. No fire or blood for miles.

He silently opened his arms, pleading, and Maria curled herself closely against him. He held her as tightly as he could, needing to reassure himself that she was there. Maria tried to hide the wince when he wrapped an arm around her waist, but he saw it.

"Are you okay?" He asked confused.

"I'm fine," she covered up, "it's nothing."

"You're a terrible liar." He murmured as he reached over to turn on the light. He gasped at the sight of the large bruise forming above her hip.

"Oh God, did I do that?" He asked already knowing the answer. Maria thought of denying it, but she knew he knew and she reluctantly nodded. "I'm sorry, love. I'm so so sorry!"

"It's okay, you didn't know you were doing it." She tried to comfort him. She was mildly surprised to find him overwhelmed with disappointment and defeat.

"I thought I'd learned to control it." He admitted.

"What on earth are you talking about?" She asked.

"It used to happen with Agathe!" He spat. Maria recoiled slightly, not expecting the outburst, but she knew it wasn't directed at her. He was just impossibly frustrated with himself.

"You know it's technically tomorrow." Maria urged. "You could tell me what was on your mind earlier."

"I can't believe I hurt you," he mumbled, "after everything-"

"Georg Johannes von Trapp." Maria stopped him cold. "Stop it. You've never meant me any harm, I'm not afraid of you, and you just said yourself that this happened with Agathe. So, why don't you talk to me instead of pretending I can't handle whatever it is when you know that's not true."

He had to hand it to her; she was blunt if nothing else.

"You've never held any ill will against me for my nightmares, let me help you with yours." She pleaded softly.

"I haven't dreamt about the war in years." He began.

"Seeing Captain Rafer?" She guessed.

"I suppose, though, he wasn't there that day…" He trailed off.

"What happened?" She asked. She could feel the moment he relented and sunk back into the pillows.

"It was when I'd first become a Captain. We'd been tracking ally cargo ships for months trying to retaliate against them for the blockade. I honestly never thought about what we were doing much. It was my job to sink the supplies and keep my crew alive. Anything beyond that was overwhelming."

Maria nodded, waiting for him to continue. She held his hand lovingly and urged him on with a gentle caress of her thumb.

"About three months in, our equipment started malfunctioning. We knew it was dangerous to be out there, but resources were low and we didn't have a choice. When we attacked our third cargo ship, our calculations were off and we ended up far too close to the blast. We survived, but we surfaced in time to see what we'd done to the other ship and those men…what we did to them – what I did to them. It was monstrous. They were burning, and bleeding, and screaming, and I didn't do anything."

"You were at war." Maria assured. "There was nothing you could've done."

"You don't understand," he argued, "I've killed hundreds of men, Maria. Possibly thousands. When I think about what I've done… I feel so lost. Agathe used to say she thought the, um, gripping, was me trying to hold on to something. I really thought you wouldn't have to know…"

Maria guided his face towards hers and into a comforting kiss.

"Remember when I told you that there were things you might not like about me and you said you couldn't wait to find out what they were?" She asked. "The same goes for you, love. War is a part of your past, I don't think it will ever go away, but you don't have to hide it from me. You want to know something funny? You asked me a while ago why I thought you didn't look like a sea captain and I think I know now."

Georg found himself amused despite his body still shaking off the remnants of horrifying sleep.

"Oh, and what was it?" He asked.

"When I was little, I always thought of military men as, well, kind of like my uncle – all barking orders with no compassion behind their eyes. When I met you, despite your best efforts, you couldn't hide your passion."

"I think the you of several months ago would have a lot to say to that…" He argued.

"Your passion might not have been in the right place, but it was there, Captain." She quipped. "And believe it or not, you smiled when Gretl forgot her name. You could've yelled, but you didn't; you smiled at me…maybe smirked is the better word, but you know what I mean. You're far from the heartless creature of your nightmares, my love."

"I can't tell you what that means, Maria." He admitted.

"Well, we're awake now, why don't you show me?" She teased.

Not a single nightmare haunted either of them for the rest of their honeymoon.

I hope you enjoyed this trip through Maria and Georg's minds! I have another story brewing, but I think I'm going to write the whole thing before publishing any of it, so it may be awhile. Thank you so much for your wonderful support!