Disclaimer: I don't own MASH. (Wish I did though)
A/N: This story just seemed to flow onto the paper. I hope you like it.
I love the chances that Hawk gets to come home and eat lunch with me. Ever since he became a doctor it seems as if I never get to see my own son anymore. Don't get me wrong, I'm so proud of him. He's a chip off the old block, followed right in my footsteps. You betcha I'm proud. My only problem is I don't get to see him often enough. Sure we have mornings and evenings together, but we both hate mornings and it's just safer to avoid talking. Two grouchy doctors are never a good thing. It's easier to keep to our mutual mumblings and grumblings. The evenings aren't much better either. We're both so exhausted. I guess that's one thing that my son got from me that's not necessarily good. He works himself too hard. He is so passionate about his work. That on its own isn't bad, but his passion is so extreme that sometimes I feel like I have to remind him to eat and sleep. He'd be dead on his feet most of the time if I didn't intervene every so often.
Suddenly I hear the door slam shut in the living room. It should be Hawkeye. Good, lunch is almost ready.
"Hawk? That you? I'm almost done here with lunch. Did you get the mail?" Silence.
"Hawk?" And again there was no answer. That's odd. Maybe it wasn't him after all. Usually he's so loud that you know the instant he enters a room. Perhaps it was just the wind. The weather did call for a storm today. That's weather in Maine for you. I leave the food on the stove for a second, with my luck it'll burn, and walk into the living room. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that awaits me in the living room. Hawkeye is sitting on the carpet with a letter held limply in his hand. The rest of the mail lays scattered behind him.
"What's wrong son!?" I rush over to his side. He still won't answer me.
"Hawk?" Silently he looks at me and the anguish in his eyes takes my breath away. His bright blue eyes hold a look of such pain and sorrow. And fright. I can see how afraid he is. The only other time I have ever seen this look in his eyes was when his mother died. I remember that morning so clearly. I told him the worse news that he had ever heard at that point in his life and what I had seen in his eyes has haunted me ever since. I had not known that it was possible for the eyes of a mere child to hold so much pain. He looked so scared. That look seemed to have been ageless and it is the same look that is in his eyes now. I can't bare it any longer. I turn away from his piercing gaze and look down at the letter in his hand. This was clearly the source of the problem. I reach out and take it from his hands. He still hasn't moved or spoken and that really worries me. He's usually so full of life. So much so that sometimes it's enough to drive you insane.
I turn my attention to the letter that I now hold in my hands and start to read. "Dear Benjamin Franklin Pierce, The army has need of your service…"
Oh God. Oh God no. Please, please God no! I can't believe it, it seems as if my heart has stopped. They've drafted him. They are going to send my son to Korea.
"Hawk, listen. You can survive this. It will be okay." I sit down on the floor beside him. This must be killing him. He hates the war. He says it's a waste of lives. I place my arm around him and pull him into my side.
"Hawkeye. I promise it will be okay. I promise son." It has to be okay. It has to be.
"How do you know dad? How can you possibly know!?!" Finally. He talked. That's good. His silence was almost as terrifying as the letter.
"I can't do this dad. I can't. I don't even believe in the war. I'm a doctor! Why are they sending me to Korea!?!"
"Son, you can do anything. You'll get through this."
"But, Korea dad! Why me? Why Korea? I just wanted to be a doctor."
"I know son, but I guess they need doctors in Korea." This is killing me, but I have to be strong for my son. That's the burden of being a parent. Sometimes it's so hard though!
"Don't worry son. We'll get through this." How am I going to get through this!?! My son! My only son! They want to take him! What would I do if something happened to him? I can't lose him! He's all I have!
He's all I have…