"Congratulations again, Georg," Robert grinned, sinking into the chair behind the office desk and pouring two more generous glasses of the questionable amber liquid they'd been enjoying before Maria's whirlwind arrival, "he's a Von Trapp through and through, that much is already obvious!" The elderly man chuckled to himself as he handed Georg a tumbler, recalling how the tiny little boy had struggled and flailed boisterously in his arms only minutes previously. It had seemed as though the stubborn little nipper was never going to settle down, until finally he'd closed his tiny blue eyes and drifted into easy sleep. His little sighs of contentment had soon sent an exhausted Maria into slumber too and Georg had managed to extract Johannes from his mother's arms, settle him down in the makeshift crib they'd assembled using blankets and a cleaned out desk drawer, before the men had eventually backed out of the room silently, leaving mother and baby to rest.

"Who'd have thought it," Georg chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief, "a father again in my mid forties.."

"And by your former governess," the baron winked with a suggestive chortle, "I suppose you of all people should know, Georg, that boys will be boys!" The gleam in Robert's eye convinced Georg that he was only being teased but he felt like a schoolboy caught in the act all the same.

"It wasn't like that, not at all," Georg was mortified to notice that he was actually blushing in front of his father in law. The truth was, he'd rather die than confess that he'd been a complete rake and fantasised multiple times about his children's governess far before she'd ever belonged to him.

How could he ever reveal the way he'd dreamt about her silken skin, the way it had seemed so real when he'd imagined her supple curves pressed between his aroused body and his bookcase? How could he confess that he used to spend their regular meetings longing to reach out and brush a thumb across her lower lip, imagining what it would be like to taste her, to sweep his desk clear of its contents and unlock the passion he could see dancing behind her innocent gaze?

How could he ever admit that he used to relieve his building desires in the dead of night alone in his four poster bed, panting and burning all over, driven mad by tantalising blue eyes and milky soft skin? Knowing it was the only way to prevent himself from acting upon his inappropriate thoughts.

Even when he'd lost his memory, he'd been drawn to her body like a moth to a mysterious flame, a flame that he couldn't seem to extinguish without taking matters into his own hands.. And when she'd tended to his wounds after his attack, he'd felt the most unexplainable burning desire to reach out and touch her, to make her blue eyes darken under his attentions.

He hadn't even been able to confess such scandalous things to Maria in their intimate moments after they'd been married. He'd resolved to keep his sordid secrets to himself for the rest of his days, but then his unpredictable bride had proven to be a salacious, enthusiastic and passionate lover - one who encouraged him to share his deepest and darkest desires. He felt himself growing redder still under Robert's gaze, as he pondered what his wife's reaction might be if he described to her what her employer used to do to himself while thinking of the fire burning behind her eyes..

God forgive me, he thought, shaking himself out of his dangerous reverie as his body began to facilitate the beginnings of arousal. It really had been far too long..

"I'm only pulling your leg dear boy!" Robert guffawed at the bashful flush creeping into his son in law's cheeks, "I know full well you're a man of honour, I saw it well enough with our Agathe," his eyes began to glaze over with memories, "One could just tell from the way you looked at her..." he trailed off then, his face becoming somewhat wistful as he looked straight through Georg as though he had been transported to some corner of the past momentarily. But it passed as quickly as it had come and before long he was grinning again, swilling his drink in his glass nonchalantly.

"No, I most definitely know a rake when I see one and you are no rake..," he took a deep swig of the amber liquid and thumped on his chest in disgust as it burned its way down his gullet, "you remember old Johnston? The earl from Essex?"

Georg nodded, taken aback by the sudden change of subject, "how could I forget?"

"Now there's a rake if ever I saw one!"

Georg rolled his eyes, remembering all too well the night of Margaret's 60th birthday ball when he'd been introduced to the slimy, bushy-haired earl who'd spent far too much of the evening leering at Agathe while his poor wife had sat miserably in the corner of the room by herself.

"Believe it or not," Robert smirked, leaning further forward in his chair as though he were delivering the most scandalous gossip of the season, "our dear earl not only had a smashing affair, but he bought a house in Chester solely for his mistress! His wife found out about the property a few months ago but they fled the country in light of the Blitz and no one quite knows what her reaction was.. could've killed him for all we know!"

"I think you're mistaking me for Max if you expect me to be tantalised by such sordid gossip," was Georg's quipped response, "I forgot just how much you yourself loved a good scandal!"

Robert threw his head back and laughed heartily, a deep booming laugh that Georg had always found comforting, "Nonsense boy," the baron barked jovially, "think of me as nothing more than a charming public service. I'm merely passing on interesting information to those who wish to hear it!"

"Ah yes," Georg teased, smirking mercilessly, "a real do-gooder!"

"Naturally!"

"Well you're not providing a very good service my friend," Georg chastised with a grin, "I didn't even discover the news of my own wife's labour until she was on the doorstep! Surely that's the biggest gossip of the decade? You must be losing your touch."

Robert chortled bashfully before the boyish smile was replaced by a slight frown knitting his brow together in confusion, "Yes, how is it that you had no idea?"

Georg gave a shrug, "She sent a telegram apparently but it never arrived.."

"What?" The smile abruptly left the baron's face.

"A telegram.. to tell me I was needed at home. But when I never replied she forced Max straight into the car.." Georg smirked sheepishly, "Of course it wasn't until she got here that she suddenly went into labour-"

"No," Robert interrupted with sudden urgency, "back up a minute. You never received the telegram?"

"No.. " Georg reiterated with a frown, "it just never showed up.."

Robert sat back in his chair and pondered for a moment, his forehead creased with puzzlement. Georg was entirely baffled by his sudden strange behaviour and it seemed like an age passed before he finally spoke again, "You don't suppose..." Robert trailed off on a mutter, as though talking to no one in particular.

"What?" Georg pressed, his curiosity peaking.

"You don't suppose it might've been.. " the baron paused, lost in thought as concern began to crease his features, "intercepted?"

A blank stare was Georg's only response.

"Intercepted Georg.." the baron pressed, stressing the word as though no further explanation was needed.

Another blank stare.

For Goodness sake! Robert thought, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. For someone so brilliant, Georg could be ridiculously oblivious when he chose to be! No wonder it had taken him so long to realise his feelings for Maria when she'd been under his employ! Sometimes it was as though the man had no idea what was happening under his very nose!

Mere moments passed and still Georg said nothing, looking entirely baffled and apparently oblivious to Robert's meaning. The elderly gentlemen fixed his son in law with a pointed stare and a raised eyebrow that left no question as to exactly what he was implying, but still apprehension evaded Georg.

He supposed he could hardly blame the boy - he'd been so wrapped up in the birth of his son that it hadn't even occurred to him that his wife's telegram might've been lost for sinister reasons. Clearly he'd allowed his strategic and calculating mind to stray from the potential threats surrounding the base. But it was imperative, Robert thought, that they left no stone unturned. There was every possibility that the Nazis had caught wind of the telegram, and he would never forgive himself if something happened to-

But the baron never got the chance to finish his train of thought, for a sudden, earth-shattering blast from somewhere in a distant corner of the base splintered his reverie into a thousand pieces, shaking the very walls around them and shifting the ground sickeningly beneath their feet. The glass of amber liquid slid from Robert's fingers with a shatter and both men froze in panic, gripping the arms of the chairs beneath them until their nails bit into the wood. Neither dared to move, as though even their blinking might confirm their worst fears. Time seemed to stand still, the clock on the wall striking 5am, before the base suddenly erupted into a tirade of noise and hysteria that Georg couldn't make any sense of.

Within milliseconds, sirens were wailing and men were hurling themselves from their bunks, half dressed and frantic, running to their rehearsed emergency positions and tripping over their own feet in their urgency. Shouts and orders were being barked left right and centre, boys as young as Friedrich darting between the grown men in a flurry of fear and confusion. Georg felt entirely unable to move as another deep rumble and thundering boom shook the very foundations around him, his heart hammering in his mouth and his brain incapable of functioning. Only one thing ran clear in his mind while the rest of the world seemed to move in slow motion around him: they were under attack. Again.

While his body was rooted to the spot, his military mind was suddenly working on autopilot, running through the standard protocol, assessing the strategy behind their defence, calculating the necessary steps to ensure maximal survival - he'd done this a thousand times before and this time was no different. Until the mortal in him remembered, with a sickening wave of all-consuming dread, that his wife and child were within these crumbling walls.

"Oh Jesus!" he choked, the colour draining from his face as his heart plummeted into his shoes, "Maria... the baby!" He launched to his feet with such force that he almost knocked the chair out from underneath him, adrenaline coursing through his veins with such intensity that he thought he might pass out. This couldn't be happening again, not now, not today. Not to his tiny baby boy!

"Go!" Robert barked over the sudden din, launching to his feet and resuming his authoritarian command as though he were managing an entire fleet of naval cadets, "get Maria and Johannes and take one of the cars!" He slammed a fist down atop the desk before launching into military action with the complete absence of fear, his face a grave mask of determination that would've given even the most frightened boys the incentive to fight, "I'll find Max and we'll meet you out front. Go!"

Georg could only nod desperately before turning on his heels and hurtling down the corridor towards the hospital wing, shoving past the thick stream of men and boys who were thundering in the opposite direction to assume their battle stations. He'd die before he let the Nazis so much as hurt a hair on his wife or son's heads. How foolish he'd been, thinking they'd be safe here in the base even for one day! He should've barrelled the two of them into the car and driven them straight back to Northampton the minute he'd known Maria was stable, but she'd been so exhausted and the base had seemed so secure these last few months that he'd thought one more day wouldn't make a difference... He should've known by now that nowhere was safe. The military man in him would've considered all possibilities, would've earmarked all potential dangers - but he'd complacently felt as though he and his family were suspended in some kind of unbreakable bubble. How wrong he'd been...

Another ear-splitting explosion ripped the wall behind him to smithereens as he threw himself round a corner, the ceiling falling in mere feet away from him to reveal patches of early morning sky where the roar of Luftwaffe engines could be heard above the cacophony of turmoil within. But still he didn't stop for breath, forcing one foot in front of the other at full pelt amidst the dust and noise and panic, until finally he threw his body against the doors to the hospital wing. Staggering into the room, he was devastated to find a sobbing Maria and a wailing Johannes alone in the room cast in shadow, his tiny son cradled in his wife's arms as she rocked him back and forth desperately in an attempt to sooth his cries.

"Oh Georg!" She choked back another sob, "the other men.." she looked to the empty beds where the injured cadets had lay, "they just left us! The explosions.. and the sirens went off and they just upped and fled!"

Her voice broke in relief at the sight of him and he rushed to her side, gathering her tightly into his arms, jaw clenched tight in his attempt to bite back the unrelenting rage he felt towards his so-called comrades. The damned cowards! Blood pounded in his ears and his heart threatened to burst from his chest but another explosion - this time much closer - forced him to keep his head.

He gripped Maria's tear-stained face between his hands firmly, their eyes locking with such intensity that for a single moment it felt as though nothing else existed in the world but the three of them. The rest of the world seemed to fade away, the screaming of the sirens, the distant shouts of panic-stricken men, it all seemed to die away in the split second that their eyes met.

"I'm here now my darling," Georg whispered, his eyes burning with a fierce protectiveness that bathed her with a sudden warmth, rapidly replacing the cold dread that had gripped her soul only moments previous, "I'm never going to let anything bad happen to either of you."

She believed every single word. And with that, he extracted Johannes gently from her trembling grip, cradling him in the crook of one strong arm and hushing his cries against the pillow of his chest as he rushed to help Maria out of bed. She fell against him, light as a feather, her body still weak from her exhausting labour - but her face was set with a newfound determination that filled him with much needed confidence. He knew, in those terrifying moments, with the backdrop of chaos and mayhem engulfing them, that together they would brave this storm, just as they'd braved every storm before it: hand in hand, with God on their side, and fight in their hearts.

Max couldn't recall ever running so fast in his life as he catapulted at lightning speed towards his destination, his feet carrying him in the direction of the hospital wing before he'd even had a chance to blink. He couldn't possibly fathom what had possessed him to do it, for he was normally the first man to flee in the opposite direction at the slightest whiff of danger. And yet here he was, practically tripping over his own shoelaces in his haste to jump headfirst into the danger zone, all to ensure someone else's safety.

He'd been happily nursing his alcoholic discovery in the privacy of an empty bunk when the first explosion had hit, sending his prized possession shattering to the ground in a mess of glass and liquor at his feet. He'd momentarily frozen to the spot, panic rising like bile in his throat, before flinging the door open and, in typical Max fashion, scouting his surroundings desperately in search of an exit - as though it would somehow save him.

But much to his bewilderment, he'd made it halfway towards his escape route when something had stopped him dead in his tracks, causing him to turn on his heels and march in the entirely opposite direction until he was suddenly breaking into a run, speeding toward the hospital wing with unfathomable momentum. He knew deep down however, that it wasn't something, but rather someone, who'd influenced his uncharacteristic heroism. He'd rather die than admit it to anyone, but the minute he'd stroked his newest nephew's silken cheek he'd known from that moment forward that he would love him as fiercely as he loved all of Georg's children. He'd never been one to verbalise his emotions - he'd always preferred the role of the joker - but Georg's family had always been every bit his own family. And he wasn't about to sit idly by and risk another loss even more devastating to the family than the last.

He was abruptly snapped out of his reverie when he nearly catapulted headlong into the very subjects of his thoughts, Georg cradling a tiny Johannes in one arm and Maria's frame huddled against the other. Max rested his hands on his knees and panted for breath, relief coursing through him. He should've known Georg would make it in time.

"Max!" His friend cried, "thank God!"

"No time," Max rasped on a shaky breath as another explosion rattled the floor beneath them, yet more men thundering past in an attempt to find the location of the blast, "we need to leave. Now!"

"Have you seen Robert?" Georg pressed, "he went searching for you!"

Max could do nothing but shake his head.

Georg steadied Maria on her feet, concern marring his face before he shoved his hand into his pocket hastily and fished out the keys to the car he and Robert had driven to the base on their latest journey. Thrusting the keys in Max's direction, he swallowed a painful lump in his throat as he was suddenly reminded of a time not too long ago, outside the broken kitchen window of the villa in Aigen, when Max had forced the keys to Franz's truck into his own hands and insisted that he flee to Switzerland without him. He'd been utterly convinced that day that he'd never see his best friend again and yet here they were once more - at a crossroads, making sacrifices to save those they loved, leaning on their friendship to survive.

"Take Maria and Johannes..," Georg commanded, his voice grave but urgent, "I'll find Robert and meet you at the car. If I'm not there in ten minutes, leave without me."

"Georg!" Maria cried, crestfallen.

"Your word Max!" Georg barked, knowing if he looked at Maria he would lose his resolve entirely.

The impresario looked pained for a few moments, as though he too was remembering previous anguish, but eventually he gave a reluctant nod and took the keys, gathering Johannes gently into his arms and ushering for Maria to take his hand.

"I love you both," Georg insisted, "I won't be long.."

And with that, he took off on his heels, hoping against hope that he was right.

Despite his error of judgement in underestimating the Nazis, Georg Von Trapp was first and foremost a strategist, a logical thinker. And it seemed entirely logical to him that Robert would be looking for Max in the south wing where the bunks and offices could be found. So that was exactly where he was headed, flying through the maze of corridors and stairs that led to his destination, the route seeming almost eerily silent now that the majority of men had followed emergency protocol, save for the distant hum of propellers and the inevitable blows that he'd rapidly learnt to block out.

Ascending the last set of stairs, he could finally make out the office at the end of the corridor that he and Robert had been relaxing in. Was it only half an hour ago they'd been sharing a tipple over the birth of his son? How quickly the world could shift on its axis, shaping the future for better or for worse, without so much as a single warning.

Taking a second to catch his breath, he broke into another run, determined to find his father in law and return to Northampton as a family. He knew the baron was as stubbornly righteous as he was, and would refuse to leave without having found Max first. Only a few more seconds and he'd be at the office door and if Robert wasn't there, he'd be in one of the nearby bunks - Georg was sure of it. He'd been a fool to hide away from Robert and Margaret for all those empty years. Within weeks of arriving in England he'd realised they were parents to him just as much as they'd been parents to Agathe. He'd wasted so much time wrapped up in grief rather than healing with the love of his family and it seemed as though he'd never quite be able to make it up to them.

His feet carried him forward mercilessly, driven by the burning determination to find the man he now considered a father. But he managed only five more steps before a blast fiercer than any he'd experienced since his days at sea lifted his body clear off the ground and threw him backwards with so much brute force that he was sure he must already be dead. The world seemed to implode around him, soot and ash and debris engulfing everything that had existed mere moments ago. He felt his body slam into the ground, or was it a wall? Was he laying or standing? He wasn't sure. All he knew was darkness. His ears were ringing, his eyes were refusing to focus and his lungs were rapidly filling with dust, unable to even choke for oxygen. Entirely incapable of movement, the only indication that he was still alive was the overwhelming adrenaline thundering through his veins.

Time seemed to stand still as the abyss stretched on. He could've been laying there for a minute or an hour for all he knew, but none of it mattered. He felt his eyelids grow heavy, felt his breathing slow dangerously against the influx of dust. But just as he was about to slip blissfully out of consciousness, an image so vivid he wondered momentarily if it was real forced itself to the forefront of his mind. It was the image of Agathe, cradling baby Leisl on his first return on leave after her birth. The image dissipated to reveal another - of a boisterous Friedrich flailing in his mother's arms the very first time Georg had met him. Then came Louisa.. Brigitta.. Kurt, Marta, Gretl, all as clear as day before his very eyes, cradled by their beautiful mother. His heart seemed to thud hopelessly as finally, the image of his newborn son danced before his eyes. Johannes, who he'd met not even 24 hours ago and who had entirely captured his heart the moment he'd wrapped his tiny fist around Georg's finger, bundled in Maria's arms..

Maria.

His eyes snapped open with a newfound courage. He was not going to die. Not today. Not today. He was going to die an old man, with his wife and children and grandchildren by his side. He was going to watch his children grow into adults, watch the years add even more beauty to his wife's face as they shared life's blessings and obstacles, joys and heartaches. He was not going to die today.

As the dust began to settle, he hauled himself to his feet, amazed to discover that he was mostly unscathed. His relief was short lived however, when he forced his eyes to finally focus, only to be confronted with a sight that turned his heart to stone. The office that had once stood at the end of the corridor, where he'd spent so many long nights with his father in law bent over blueprints and sharing memories over a glass of questionable liquor, was now no more than a gaping hole, a pile of rubble, a mess of debris engulfed in furious flames that danced menacingly in front of his face.

The entire wing had been reduced to a cesspit of devastation, the corridor twisted and splintered beneath his feet, like a path of despair that seemed to tantalise him towards death. Georg couldn't function, couldn't bring himself to believe what he was seeing, couldn't even begin to contemplate what it meant for his family.

Robert's jovial face rose up in his mind's eye and before he could even make sense of what was happening, a strangled cry of anger, hopelessness and sorrow was tearing from his lungs and suddenly he was running, running as fast as his legs would carry him, running for the exit, running for his wife and child, running from the suffocating heat, running from the unbearable anguish.

Running from the devastating realisation that his father in law was gone.

A/N: I'm sorry to leave you with such a sad cliffhanger. I'll update again very soon, please let me know your thoughts.