Note: BJ/Hawkeye; BJ's POV. It takes place later on in the series. Nothing specific. It is just random musings.
You're losing your mind over here. Who doesn't?
There's a fine line between sanity and insanity, and you always were the tightrope walker. During long hours in the O.R., I'll look to you table; your hands always working feverishly, your movement always frantic. You'll look up sometimes, and we'll make eye contact. Time stands still as you tell your emotions through your deep blue eyes: pain and sorrow surfacing briefly because you flash a mask-covered smiled and resume your work.
I recognize that pain. It's the same griping element that stared back at me when I arrived here, only they were from my own eyes. I was afraid. Still am. Though sitting on our cots, waiting for our latest joke on Frank to go as planned, it's as though we've been friends forever. We'd laugh about the most absurd things until the gin would wear off. You'd hold me close during the night, kiss me gently and say everything would be all right. Who were we fooling? I guess myself, because I didn't want it to end. Some nights I'd hear the faint shelling from miles away, and I'd realize that my wish would be coming true: it never would end.
You're sitting on the edge of the cot and looking out to the mountains. Are you dreaming up some perfect place, away from this hell? Of course. Is it of Crabapple Cove, of starting anew? Am I there?
Or more importantly, do you want me to be there?
Or, maybe I'm the one losing my mind.
You're losing your mind over here. Who doesn't?
There's a fine line between sanity and insanity, and you always were the tightrope walker. During long hours in the O.R., I'll look to you table; your hands always working feverishly, your movement always frantic. You'll look up sometimes, and we'll make eye contact. Time stands still as you tell your emotions through your deep blue eyes: pain and sorrow surfacing briefly because you flash a mask-covered smiled and resume your work.
I recognize that pain. It's the same griping element that stared back at me when I arrived here, only they were from my own eyes. I was afraid. Still am. Though sitting on our cots, waiting for our latest joke on Frank to go as planned, it's as though we've been friends forever. We'd laugh about the most absurd things until the gin would wear off. You'd hold me close during the night, kiss me gently and say everything would be all right. Who were we fooling? I guess myself, because I didn't want it to end. Some nights I'd hear the faint shelling from miles away, and I'd realize that my wish would be coming true: it never would end.
You're sitting on the edge of the cot and looking out to the mountains. Are you dreaming up some perfect place, away from this hell? Of course. Is it of Crabapple Cove, of starting anew? Am I there?
Or more importantly, do you want me to be there?
Or, maybe I'm the one losing my mind.