Note: Not mine! Really, really not mine. Heck, I wasn't born when this was originally aired!
Warnings: Slash-y-ish, Radar/Klinger (yes, really)
Radar sighed. It was late, and night had fallen over the MASH unit. He normally didn't do this, wander around after everyone else had fallen asleep. But tonight was special. Tonight the stars were bright and the moon was full above his head. He had his teddy bear tucked under his arm, pressed against his side. The fur tickled his bare skin, the wind shifting his fatigue-colored t-shirt around.
He paused in front of the Swamp for a moment, smiling faintly at the noisy snoring emanating from the figure within as the scent of home-brewed alcohol hit his nostrils. This was his home, now that he thought about it. This place in the middle of nowhere, where death and pain was part of everyday life. Blood and gore had become something he wasn't sure life could go on without. He knew they all wished for their old lives back.
Everyone wanted to escape this. Klinger wasn't the only example Radar could think of, but he seemed to stick out every time the idea came up. Klinger, in his silken laces and trailing dresses, could never be missed prancing around the compound. Radar smiled faintly at the images conjured in his mind, of white wedding gowns and red cocktail dresses that only accented Klinger's obvious masculinity. No amount of make-up or slit skirts could change the curly black hair that covered Klinger's legs, or the dark face that couldn't be changed.
Radar blushed into the darkness at those thoughts, wondering when he got so used to his friend's antics. He hadn't thought he would ever adjust to seeing the characters that wandered these roads in the daytime. Hawkeye and his alcohol, Charles and his music. Images ingrained in Radar's mind.
Lately though, he had been trying to picture an alternative, a different way of time occurring. But whenever he called his imagination to the front, to picture his world the way he wanted it to be, Klinger was always there. Klinger, in his dresses, prancing about the center of the camp. Klinger grinning at Radar and tipping the lace veil over his face.
Radar barely noticed when he reached the end of the compound, stepping onto moist soil. His foot sank instantly, pulling his attention to the outside world. He almost yelped, yanking his foot out with a squishing sound. The boots were ruined, covered in mud and things Radar didn't even want to think about. He bit his lip, staring at the gunk oozing off his boots.
"Rupert… why is this happening to me?" He shook the teddy bear gently, sighing. He turned to head back into camp, his boot squishing the entire way. But Radar didn't quite go to bed yet. He went beyond his own tent, stepping up to an entrance he knew well.
Klinger's Tent.
He could hear snores from the occupant, loud drawn out sounds that could have caused Rupert to cover his ears. Radar didn't know why he stood there for as long as he did, staring at the door. He couldn't explain why he didn't move a muscle as the snores rolled over him. All he knew was that he woke up the next morning cold and stiff, laying in his own bed.