Title: Forgotten
Author: Me
Pairing: None -- both BJ/H and H/T implied.
Prompt: #76 Who? and Forgotten
Rating: Sergeant
Word Count: 414
Disclaimer: Nope … I still don't own anything except for a MASH t-shirt.
Summary: None … it's not really long enough for one. Sort of Trapper POV.
Warning: None. Angst a go-go.
A/N: A short one. Sort of lame, too. But hey … at least I'm making an attempt to write MASH fic again, right? Prompts were "Who" from LJ's VarietyPack100 and the 10-min. challenge of "Forgotton" from mash-slash on yahoo.
Once upon a time, there was a man. He was sent to a place far, far away from his home. This place was called Korea. Korea was a scary land, filled with bombs and blood and death.
He did not like it there. Not one bit.
However, he had a friend. And this friend made all of the bad stuff disappear. He took the cold and made it warm. Turned the pain into pleasure. Chased away the fear, and replaced it with fun and laughter and joy.
This man became his world. His partner in crime. His best friend.
His lover.
And then, while his friend was away in Tokyo on some much needed R&R, the man was discharged. He was sent home. There hadn't been time for goodbyes. They'd mistakenly thought he'd be back from Toyko before the man had to leave. But, he wasn't. They tried to contact him. To let him know. And they'd waited so long that the man hadn't had a moment to spare.
Not even to leave a note for his friend.
He has been home for almost a year now. There haven't been any letters. No phone calls. No telegrams. Nothing. Though to be fair, he's been so busy, he hasn't made an effort either.
By now, he knows he's been replaced. He's sure it happened almost as soon as he'd stepped on that plane in Kimpo. A new surgeon has stepped into his role. Hangs his clothes on the nail that once belonged to him. Sleeps in his bed. Drinks out of his martini glass. Laughs and jokes with his old friend.
He hopes that maybe, maybe, this new doctor hasn't stolen his friend's heart … but deep down, he can feel it. He knows that it has happened.
Emotions war within him: jealousy, sadness, heartbreak, regret. All fighting for dominance. All forcing him to pick up his pen and write the letter. Convincing him to take it to the post office and mail it off to Korea.
That was six weeks ago.
Every day, he checks the mailbox, and every day he is disappointed when he doesn't find anything. But he will keep waiting and watching because somewhere, in the depths within him, he wants to believe that his friend remembers.
He won't allow himself to accept that fact that he's been replaced. That he's been …
… forgotten.
