To Forgive Divine
Author's Note: Hi pplz! In this story, BJ gets dangerously drunk, and he ends up nearly killing Hawkeye, right when truckloads of wounded arrive. Will Hawkeye be able to forgive BJ, or will his wounds need time to heal? Rated for violence.
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Chapter One: A Shock
A deep chocolate-brown pool reflected his depressing and distressing emotions. Swirling russet liquid glimmered where the artificial lights beamed. Expressions of grief and anguish clouded the smooth creamy bronze surface. Sweltering hot steam floated in wisps from the images of miserable sensations. He softly breathed on the whirling brown fluid. His breath breezed his tormented face into tiny ripples and crinkles, spinning the sorrow into obscurity.
"More coffee, Hawkeye?"
Hawkeye looked up sharply from his full cup of coffee. Radar was smiling politely at him, his fingertips gripping a large jug filled with dark almost-black liquid. Hawkeye suddenly remembered he was in the Mess Tent after 16 hours of endless meatball surgery. He was losing the battle with his eyelids quickly.
Hawkeye shook his head. "No thanks, Radar. Do you know when the mail is sent out?"
Radar nodded. "Tomorrow at 18:00. Why? Any mail you need to send?"
"Yup, to my Dad. I haven't written in a while. Anyways, I'm really tired. I think I'll head back to the Swamp." Hawkeye yawned.
He slowly rose from his spot on the wooden bench. He sluggishly dragged his tired feet to the 'used' pile of dishes and dumped his coffee cup carelessly into the heap of mugs. On his way to the flimsy card-board-like doors he stumbled but caught himself in time to sway his hand drowsily to Radar.
Radar waved back. "Goodnight, Hawkeye!"
****************
Hawkeye managed to wander back to the Swamp without tripping or falling too many times. The Swamp was empty when he entered, BJ and Charles obviously still at Post-Op, checking on patients. He blinked his ocean blue and icy silver eyes sleepily.
'Better get started on that letter. Where'd I put my pencil?"
He asked himself quietly. He rummaged through thick wads of paper and books, finally finding his pencil and holding it up in triumph. "Aha!"
He lazily tumbled onto his cot. After rearranging himself to the most possible comfortable position, he grabbed a sheet of paper from on top of Charles' footlocker. Scribbling the pencil scratchily onto the parchment, he began to write his letter.
'Dear Dad,'
That was as far as he got before he fell back onto his bed, fast asleep.
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*I couldn't remember falling asleep. All I remembered was writing my letter, and the rest was a blur.*
Hawkeye slowly opened his silver-blue eyes. White glowing moonbeams bounced on his face, it was clearly nighttime. Dim darkness enveloped the Swamp. He pushed himself into a sitting position, seeing his forgotten letter lying on the ground. He swooped down to scoop it up, when the alarm clock caught his eye. '3:47 AM?' he thought in surprise. 'Has it been THAT long since I fell asleep?'
Soft snoring filled his ears. He groaned. 'Charles must be back.'
He turned his gaze on Charles' cot, to find Charles sprawled on it. Yep, he's back.
His groggy eyes focused on BJ's empty bed. 'Where's BJ? Post-Op paperwork shouldn't take this long.'
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*Meanwhile, at Rosie's.....*
"Ugghh...another beer Rosie!" BJ shouted, his voice slurring and thick with alcohol.
Rosie eyed him skeptically. "I think you've had enough. All drink but no money! Where's the cash?"
BJ groaned. "One more beer and I'm outta here. And you get your money."
Rosie shook her head. "No way Joe. I want my money now! And I want you out of here! So cough it up!"
"NO! I WANT ANOTHER BEER! AND YOU AIN'T GETTIN' NO MONEY UNTIL I GET ONE!"
BJ lunged forward and grabbed Rosie by her collar. He pushed her into the corner, pinning her against the wall. He grasped her throat and picked her up with one hand. Her dark chocolate eyes widened and her face turned a pale shade of blue. She gasped for air as tears slid down her cheeks. The whole room went silent, watching fearfully.
"Gimme a beer! Now!" He growled dangerously. His hazel eyes narrowed and he grinded his teeth.
Rosie slowly nodded her head with difficulty. BJ grinned and let go of her neck. She dropped to the ground on her hands and knees, wheezing and struggling to breathe. BJ kicked her in the stomach, hard.
"Get up! Come on! I haven't got all night!"
A shocked shriek rang out through the room.
"BJ!"
BJ turned around quickly. Margaret was standing up from her seat, mouth wide open and an expression of utter traumatize plastered on her pale face.
"How DARE you! How dare you do that to Rosie when all she's doing is looking out for your health! How dare you hurt her! How dare you drink so much when you know wounded are predicted to come in the morning! How DARE you, BJ Hunnicutt!" she screeched shrilly. Her emerald-azure eyes were widened in shock and her smooth, milky-white skin reddened in fury.
BJ glanced uncertainly from the gasping Rosie to the silent, frightened crowd. He frustratingly shook his head. "I don't need this. I'm heading back to the Swamp. There's beer there." He gave the crowd one last glare before rushing out the door and slamming it behind him.
"BJ!" Margaret shouted, obviously not finished with him. Father Mulcahy put a strong hand on her arm so she would sit down calmly. Tears shone in her eyes.
"Margaret, maybe BJ will calm down once he gets back to the Swamp. A good night's rest, and he'll be as good as new." Father Mulcahy spoke in a hushed tone.
Margaret's voice shook with sobs. "But...but Hawkeye's at the Swamp."
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Hawkeye had begun to write more in his letter, while stopping to rub his tired eyes every three minutes.
'Four measly hours of sleep.....once I'm done this letter I'm hitting the sack. ' he thought groggily.
Suddenly, a violent smash echoed into the Swamp. Hawkeye's head shot up from his letter to find the feeble door had been torn off it's hinges. In the doorway stood a dark figure.
"BJ?"
And there he was, soaked with rain, light brown hair chaotic, reeking of alcohol, a furious glint in his narrowed hazel eyes.
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Author's Note: What do you think of this chapter? If you like it, review. If you don't, review. More to come very soon. Seeya!
************************************
Author's Note: Hi pplz! In this story, BJ gets dangerously drunk, and he ends up nearly killing Hawkeye, right when truckloads of wounded arrive. Will Hawkeye be able to forgive BJ, or will his wounds need time to heal? Rated for violence.
*******************************
Chapter One: A Shock
A deep chocolate-brown pool reflected his depressing and distressing emotions. Swirling russet liquid glimmered where the artificial lights beamed. Expressions of grief and anguish clouded the smooth creamy bronze surface. Sweltering hot steam floated in wisps from the images of miserable sensations. He softly breathed on the whirling brown fluid. His breath breezed his tormented face into tiny ripples and crinkles, spinning the sorrow into obscurity.
"More coffee, Hawkeye?"
Hawkeye looked up sharply from his full cup of coffee. Radar was smiling politely at him, his fingertips gripping a large jug filled with dark almost-black liquid. Hawkeye suddenly remembered he was in the Mess Tent after 16 hours of endless meatball surgery. He was losing the battle with his eyelids quickly.
Hawkeye shook his head. "No thanks, Radar. Do you know when the mail is sent out?"
Radar nodded. "Tomorrow at 18:00. Why? Any mail you need to send?"
"Yup, to my Dad. I haven't written in a while. Anyways, I'm really tired. I think I'll head back to the Swamp." Hawkeye yawned.
He slowly rose from his spot on the wooden bench. He sluggishly dragged his tired feet to the 'used' pile of dishes and dumped his coffee cup carelessly into the heap of mugs. On his way to the flimsy card-board-like doors he stumbled but caught himself in time to sway his hand drowsily to Radar.
Radar waved back. "Goodnight, Hawkeye!"
****************
Hawkeye managed to wander back to the Swamp without tripping or falling too many times. The Swamp was empty when he entered, BJ and Charles obviously still at Post-Op, checking on patients. He blinked his ocean blue and icy silver eyes sleepily.
'Better get started on that letter. Where'd I put my pencil?"
He asked himself quietly. He rummaged through thick wads of paper and books, finally finding his pencil and holding it up in triumph. "Aha!"
He lazily tumbled onto his cot. After rearranging himself to the most possible comfortable position, he grabbed a sheet of paper from on top of Charles' footlocker. Scribbling the pencil scratchily onto the parchment, he began to write his letter.
'Dear Dad,'
That was as far as he got before he fell back onto his bed, fast asleep.
*****************************
*I couldn't remember falling asleep. All I remembered was writing my letter, and the rest was a blur.*
Hawkeye slowly opened his silver-blue eyes. White glowing moonbeams bounced on his face, it was clearly nighttime. Dim darkness enveloped the Swamp. He pushed himself into a sitting position, seeing his forgotten letter lying on the ground. He swooped down to scoop it up, when the alarm clock caught his eye. '3:47 AM?' he thought in surprise. 'Has it been THAT long since I fell asleep?'
Soft snoring filled his ears. He groaned. 'Charles must be back.'
He turned his gaze on Charles' cot, to find Charles sprawled on it. Yep, he's back.
His groggy eyes focused on BJ's empty bed. 'Where's BJ? Post-Op paperwork shouldn't take this long.'
********************************
*Meanwhile, at Rosie's.....*
"Ugghh...another beer Rosie!" BJ shouted, his voice slurring and thick with alcohol.
Rosie eyed him skeptically. "I think you've had enough. All drink but no money! Where's the cash?"
BJ groaned. "One more beer and I'm outta here. And you get your money."
Rosie shook her head. "No way Joe. I want my money now! And I want you out of here! So cough it up!"
"NO! I WANT ANOTHER BEER! AND YOU AIN'T GETTIN' NO MONEY UNTIL I GET ONE!"
BJ lunged forward and grabbed Rosie by her collar. He pushed her into the corner, pinning her against the wall. He grasped her throat and picked her up with one hand. Her dark chocolate eyes widened and her face turned a pale shade of blue. She gasped for air as tears slid down her cheeks. The whole room went silent, watching fearfully.
"Gimme a beer! Now!" He growled dangerously. His hazel eyes narrowed and he grinded his teeth.
Rosie slowly nodded her head with difficulty. BJ grinned and let go of her neck. She dropped to the ground on her hands and knees, wheezing and struggling to breathe. BJ kicked her in the stomach, hard.
"Get up! Come on! I haven't got all night!"
A shocked shriek rang out through the room.
"BJ!"
BJ turned around quickly. Margaret was standing up from her seat, mouth wide open and an expression of utter traumatize plastered on her pale face.
"How DARE you! How dare you do that to Rosie when all she's doing is looking out for your health! How dare you hurt her! How dare you drink so much when you know wounded are predicted to come in the morning! How DARE you, BJ Hunnicutt!" she screeched shrilly. Her emerald-azure eyes were widened in shock and her smooth, milky-white skin reddened in fury.
BJ glanced uncertainly from the gasping Rosie to the silent, frightened crowd. He frustratingly shook his head. "I don't need this. I'm heading back to the Swamp. There's beer there." He gave the crowd one last glare before rushing out the door and slamming it behind him.
"BJ!" Margaret shouted, obviously not finished with him. Father Mulcahy put a strong hand on her arm so she would sit down calmly. Tears shone in her eyes.
"Margaret, maybe BJ will calm down once he gets back to the Swamp. A good night's rest, and he'll be as good as new." Father Mulcahy spoke in a hushed tone.
Margaret's voice shook with sobs. "But...but Hawkeye's at the Swamp."
*****************************************
Hawkeye had begun to write more in his letter, while stopping to rub his tired eyes every three minutes.
'Four measly hours of sleep.....once I'm done this letter I'm hitting the sack. ' he thought groggily.
Suddenly, a violent smash echoed into the Swamp. Hawkeye's head shot up from his letter to find the feeble door had been torn off it's hinges. In the doorway stood a dark figure.
"BJ?"
And there he was, soaked with rain, light brown hair chaotic, reeking of alcohol, a furious glint in his narrowed hazel eyes.
************************************
Author's Note: What do you think of this chapter? If you like it, review. If you don't, review. More to come very soon. Seeya!
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