Disclaimer: I don't own MASH. If I did, it would've been even slashier than it already was, if that's humanly possible.

A/N: 7/6: As I write this, I'm lying in a bed at a Fairfield Inn in Williamsburg, Virginia. Of course, I'll be home when I type it up. Takes place during "Period of Adjustment", right after the office scene. 7/8: Completed in the car from Virginia to Pennsylvania. I'm currently listening to a radio station called the Hawk, which is cool.

As B.J. sobs more heavily onto my shoulder, his arms slowly come up to wrap around my waist. I sigh, move my arm from around his head to his shoulders and pull him closer. His sobs slowly ease until finally he's just sniffling once in awhile, still clinging to me for dear life.

After a few more minutes, Beej pulls away and mutters, "Sorry."

I frown in confusion. "What're you sorry for?"

"Breaking down like that," he replies.

"B.J.," I sigh, "It's okay. Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't already."

B.J. yawns. "Why's that?"

"Come on. Let's get you back to the Swamp," I reply. "Before you fall asleep in Potter's office."

"Mmm. One problem."

"What?"

"I don't think I can stand up."

I smile. "Well, that's what I'm here for."

"Mmm," B.J. says again. "Okay, let's go."

I stand, and then hold out my hand to B.J. He takes it and I pull him to his feet. He stumbles but doesn't fall. I sling an arm around his shoulders and we walk out into Ra--Klinger's office. I chuckle when I see Colonel Potter tucking a blanket around Klinger, who seems to have passed out in a chair.

He looks up when we walk past him. "You okay, Hunnicutt?"

"Yeah…sorry about your cabinet."

"It's okay, son. Don't worry about it," the colonel replies.

We leave the building and start slowly toward the Swamp. Halfway there, B.J. stops suddenly.

Then he's doubled over, throwing up. I sigh and rub his back.

"Come on, Beej," I say softly when he's done, "We're almost there."

B.J. nods miserably. A minute later we're at the door to the Swamp. I pull it open and B.J. steps by me. He sits on my cot and looks around. "I'm sorry," he says again.

"It's all right," I reply. "We can build a new one."

B.J. lays back. "Mmm hmm," he murmurs vaguely. His eyes begin to close.

"Uh, Beej," I say, amused. "You know this is my bed, right?"

"Mmm hmm," he replies sleepily. "But I'm staying."

"And where am I supposed to sleep?" I ask.

"My bed. Or with me?" B.J. murmurs.

"Charles," I remind him.

He doesn't reply; he's fallen asleep. I sigh and slide into bed beside him. It's a tight squeeze, but we've done it before.

He makes a small noise and slips an arm around my waist. I gently kiss his forehead and hope for his sake--for all our sakes--that we'll go home soon.