I'm in Hawkeye's hands tonight. It's just as well; I much prefer him over anyone else. He has such amazing skill, I can't help but feel pride when he uses me to save a life. On the flip side, it hurts when he clenches my slim body as he realizes he's lost one—it hurts physically, emotionally.
But that doesn't happen often.
Hours pass, but I'm incapable of counting them. Between bodies, I'm hastily washed and sterilized before going back into the fray.
Finally it's over. I'm cleaned, sterilized, put in a drawer with my brethren.
I rest.
Until tomorrow.
A/N: Another M-A-S-H based drabble from my fourth period Ecology! Again, I'm toying with POV here, only it's an inanimate object. The scapel is probably one of the most unsung members of the 4077th, so I'm just payin' my respects. Please R&R! –supergeek17