Title: You Can Never Go Home Again
Characters: Mentions of B.J. Hunnicutt, Daniel Pierce, Max Klinger, 'Trapper' John, Henry Blake, Frank Burns, 'Radar' O'Reilly, Charles Emerson Winchester, Sherman Potter and Sidney Freedman
SPOILERS: All Seasons but big ones for Abyssinia Henry, Welcome To Korea and Goodbye, Farewell And Amen
Warnings: Angst, implied character death and implied suicide
Disclaimer: This is a fan fiction. I do not own the characters, 20th Century Fox Television does. No profit was made from this fic.
Beta'd: By saiyanbride
Notes: Post-war fic
Dear Beej,
The old saying is true… You can never go home again. I'm trying to be the happy young man that I was before I went to Korea and saw the boys that had whole scrap yards in their stomachs and chests… or half of them missing -blown away by bombs and shrapnel- from either us or 'them'. It never really mattered in the end.
I'm sooo tired. So very tired. My lugs are sending me messages to stop filling with air 'cause they're tired. Which is stupid, because you need air to breath. It hurts Beej, really hurts. I look at photos of me before going over there and I can see the laughter and twinkle in my eyes, but now… now they're just blue. Like the Sea of Japan. God I miss good old loveable Henry Blake. He never could make a decision without a months notice. Thank God for Radar. I miss him too. I think I miss everyone, yes even Frank.
I wonder if anyone misses me… will miss me. I know my dad will, but I don't think he can take care of all the details of the funeral… If it's not too much to ask, could you come to Crabapple Cove and help him? As we've said a thousand times -no parent should have to bury their own child.
But I don't think I can stay just so my dad doesn't have to bury me next to mom.
Just so you know, I'm not going to send this… not really. My dad might give it to you if you came to the funeral. I don't know if you would come all way to my little home town just to see me get put into the ground, but I do know that Peg wouldn't like it… But then again I only know that because I wouldn't like you going all the way across the US just to see your wartime lover be buried.
I don't think Sidney fixed me right. I feel like something's missing. Something that I need… Something that makes me… me. But I don't know what makes me me anymore. I don't think I've been me since the first operation I did when I got there… or maybe it was when Henry died and Trapper left… But I felt more like the old me when I was with you… I felt young and happy… It was like a dream… but it slowly turned into a hellish bloody nightmare.
It's not your fault you know… its no-ones. I'm just tired… tired and I want to go to sleep... for a very long time. I never got much sleep over there. I don't think anyone did. But you see, the thing is I'm not over there anymore. I'm here. USA. Crabapple Cove…. Home. But it doesn't feel like home. Home is Charles playing classical music all through the night just to drive us up the wall. Home is Klinger wearing dress with unshaved legs. Home is Radar knowing just what Henry or Potter wanted before they did. Home is… Home is a lot of different things that just ain't there anymore. And I miss it all. Even your cheesy moustache tickling me as you kissed, licked or sucked me.
It's a good thing that I'm not sending this letter cause then you won't know that even though I love you with my whole being that the memories and dreams of you wasn't enough to stop me taking pill after pill, followed by glass after glass of gin.
I'm sorry…
Love
Benjamin Franklin 'Hawkeye' Pierce
Finest Kind
