Author's Note: Last night I had this urge to write something about Radar but was too tired to so I did it tonight. Don't own MASH. Please read and review!
To say the weather was boiling hot would be an understatement. So it came as no surprise to Radar when he had to replace one of the guys on a trip because of heat exhaustion. He clung onto the jeep as Klinger sped along back to the 4077 with much needed materials from another MASH unit.
"Watch it Klinger! You almost hit that sign!"
Radar didn't know it then, but Klinger's reckless driving saved his life. The North Korean snipers shot out of nowhere hitting Radar in the chest. Any slower and they would've got his heart. Klinger kept driving, only hearing the bullets, not the tiny exclamation from the clerk. Radar clutched at the growing stain on his green shirt. He turned his head over the side, vomiting his breakfast.
"Kid you okay?"
Klinger glanced at Radar for a second and saw the blood soaking through the other man's tank top. He cursed and drove faster. They were closer to 4077 so Klinger turned the car around and headed down a different route.
Radar tilted his head back looking up at the clear blue sky. No clouds, no clouds like the wonderful chubby cumulus clouds in Iowa on a cool fall day. Iowa, Iowa and home, mom, good cooking, cows, pets. He closed his eyes, wishing, praying, he would wake up from this nightmare in his bed. Pain brought him back though.
"Stay with me buddy,"
Klinger stopped the car when Radar closed his eyes a little too long for his liking. The soldier tore off his own tank top, pressing down hard on the other man's stomach. Radar pushed at the hand, his face scrunching up in pain. Klinger tied the tank top around his chest, tight over the wound. The clerk fumbled with the knot in the back, anything to stop the pain. His lack of coordination showed how serious the injury was. He threw up again, this time in the jeep. Flashbacks from the previous day shot through his mind. Hawkeye making fun of the amount of food on his plate. BJ reading a letter aloud from his kid. Colonel Potter arguing with him over the order forms. He rolled his eyes, swallowing thickly. The heat was becoming unbearable, as if someone placed him under a slow cooking ray. He gasped as new pain blossomed from the wound. Leaning back, he saw one last patch of blue sky before passing out.
Klinger didn't need to see Radar retching, he could smell it. He kept driving, the slightly metallic scent of blood filling his nostrils as well. Beads of sweat coursed down his face and his bare chest. He could hear artillery fire in the distance, making him jump every so often.
"Walter, Walter,"
It was his mother calling him, drawing out his name as if reciting for a spelling bee.
Klinger drove faster, faster than he thought the car could go but it went until the "Best Care Anywhere" sign popped into vision.
"Doctors! It's Radar, he's injured!"
Hawkeye and BJ sped out of the mess tent, barely glancing at the corporal before ordering a stretcher and examining the chest wound. Radar's head lolled back sickeningly, completely unresponsive to the doctors. The orderlies lifted him out of the jeep, a small pool of blood in the seat.
"Shouldn't you be home with us?" His mother asked.
Radar felt her wrapping her arms around him, felt her soft cotton summer dress against his hot skin.
"He's burning up!"
She placed a small metallic cross up to his chest. He took it from her with a smile.
"Heartbeat's way too fast," BJ pulled the stethoscope out from under his shirt.
"Do you remember your prayers?" His mother whispered right in his ear.
"Father Mulcahy won't let me forget them," He joked, and then his stomach dropped with a sickening thud. Father Mulcahy, the 4077th, Hawkeye, BJ, Klinger, where were they?
"Get the Father, this isn't looking good." Colonel Potter stated, trying hard not to look at the astonished faces of the onlookers. On the floor lay the remains of the two bloody shirts.
"Why don't you have a drink to calm down?" His mother held out a champagne glass, one similar to Hawkeye's.
His eyebrows arched upwards, his mouth forming a small o. What was going on, where was the still? He took a small sip, nearly gagging.
"I thought this stuff was supposed to make you feel better,"
"No, it's supposed to make you feel nothing." BJ's voice boomed over him yet he couldn't see the doctor.
"Blood pressure dropping, no pulse!"
Hawkeye, Colonel Potter, and BJ worked quickly. The exchange of metal surgical tools was the only noise in the operating room.
Colonel Blake suddenly appeared taking the place of his mother. He held a fishing rod and didn't seem to notice him until Radar cleared his throat. Henry swiveled his head to look at the younger man before recasting his line.
"Radar, what are you doing here?"
The corporal couldn't peel his eyes away from the commanding officer.
"I'm not sure sir, did something happen?"
He couldn't put together the pieces. Henry was dead, but he couldn't be, could he?
Henry placed the rod down and fixed his familiar fishing hat.
"It can't be good son." He walked toward the corporal.
"I don't want to go back," Radar clutched at his chest, as if he could already feel the pain. He fell to his knees, his sight blurry. Colonel Blake's arms encircled him. He felt numb, going completely limp in the older man's hold. Henry laid out Radar over his lap, cradling his neck and head.
"Who would look after the 4077th if you left? Those guys need you," The colonel murmured.
Radar placed a hand on his now red shirt. Henry covered it with his own.
"I…want…to stay…with you," Even as he said it, Radar knew he couldn't. He felt his heavy lids start to close as Henry's lips formed his signature sad smile.
"I'll make you a deal. You go back now, and I'll wait for you later. You can even tell Hawk I say hi,"
He opened his eyes one last time, fighting for more time.
"I'd never forgive myself, if I let this happen. Don't fight it Radar."
Henry pushed down harder on his chest as Radar let out a whimper.
"Got a pulse, getting stronger!"
Henry kept pressing until the younger man couldn't breath.
"He's back,"
The relief was palpable in the room as Hawkeye let out a heavy sigh. They closed him up after a bit more patching.
MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH -MASH
When Radar first woke up he thought he was still with Henry.
"Colonel Blake,"
He called, his eyes looking but not really seeing. They had loaded him with pain killers that made him drowsy and unable to think straight. Hawkeye came over to him immediately.
"How are you doing?"
The wounded man blinked slowly, as if not understanding the question.
"Hawkeye?"
"The one and only,"
The doctor tucked the teddy bear under Radar's arm.
"Where's Colonel Blake?"
Hawkeye stared down at the green blankets before deflecting the question.
"Do you feel any pain? Are you hungry?"
Radar pointed to his chest, ignoring the massive bandage across the top of it.
"I feel funny. Colonel Blake says hi by the way."
His eyes began to drift closed, not noticing the melancholy expression on Hawkeye's face. The doctor ran a hand through his hair, observing the lax expression and easy breaths.
-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH -MASH-MASH
The next time he woke up was because they made him. Colonel Potter, BJ, Hawkeye, and Major Houlihan stood over him.
"Time to wake up kid. You've been out of it for a week,"
He tried to fall back asleep but they would have none of it.
Colonel Potter took off the bandage over his chest.
"Definitely looks infected. Does it hurt Radar?"
He groaned in response, the painkillers wearing off.
"What-what happened?"
The major squeezed his hand.
"You were shot in the chest coming back from the other mash unit with Klinger."
His breaths became more labored, his body not accustomed to the level of pain.
"Slow breathing, everything is okay." BJ instructed him, standing just a foot away.
He moaned again and vomited, barely anything except bile, water, and a bit of blood came up. He lay back down on the pillow. They talked over him. He caught snatches of their conversation.
"…Open him up…body can't handle…too much stress…strong, fight it off…"
Again he fell asleep.
-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH-MASH -MASH-MASH-
The third time he woke up with a lot less discomfort and could manage to not vomit.
"Well if it isn't sleeping beauty!" Hawkeye came over, glancing at the chart hanging off of the bed.
"You have given us quite the ride Radar. First the wound, then the infection, anything else you should let us know about?"
Radar gave a weak smile. The others soon piled around, the same group from before this time with Father Mulcahy and even Major Winchester.
"Glad to have you back son,"
He tried to sit up but Margaret stopped him.
"None of that until you're completely healed,"
"Get some more sleep Radar, we'll be here if anything happens,"
He felt Hawkeye and Major Houlihan touching his shoulders, and Henry Blake's hand, once again, on his chest.