It's All Coming Back
By Stephanie
Summary: One year after the war has ended and everyone has gone home, Hawkeye is finally getting his life back into normal…that is until he meets the only woman from his past that could hold the future within her hands.
Author's Note: We'll base this off that Hawkeye was probably born in the early 1920's to be old enough to be a doctor shortly out of medical school in the Korean War, which would make him about thirty when the Korean War ended, so let's just go with that idea and say we've taken liberties.
"Give me that bottle, is that cup clean?" She asked, tired of sitting in this damn shack, she looked at the man with the big blue eyes, he seemed so sincere, she could only imagine moments earlier when she had to dig the piece of wood out of his leg. He had been in so much pain.
"Can't be too dirty, whatever's in the bottom is still alive," he said grinning. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the cup from him.
"Just pass the cup," she stated pouring the liquor. She looked at him as they both took a drink. Sighing she placed the cup back on the table and became serious, "think we'll ever get out of here?"
"I was just going to ask you the same question…"
"I don't like the war you know…I hate it, I hate the destruction, the stupidity of the waste, the disruption of personal lives," she ground out quietly, her voice becoming weak.
He became softer, his face serious, "Margaret what's in the letter?" He asked ever so gently. He wanted to help her, let her know he was there for her.
"Oh well, it probably would hand you a laugh. For instance, this is only the beginning. My dear Darlene…"
"Is that your nick name?" He knew it was a stupid question.
"No."
"Why is he calling you Darlene?" Hawkeye asked.
"He's not calling me Darlene, he put this letter in the wrong envelope…" Hawkeye shook his head, his heart breaking for this woman. Last year he would have given anything to see her hurt, but right now all he wanted to do was comfort her, "My dear Darlene, how long it's been since we walked together on the beach at A-Wahoo, I can still see the moon light splashing on your shoulders, and hear the whoosh, whoosh, whoosh on the waves. His last letter to me dealt entirely with a self loading, semi automatic sub-machine gun, my letter went clickety click, click as where her's goes whoosh, whoosh, whoosh," she stated he looked at her in sadness.
"And splashing moonlight." He whispered.
"I know you've heard that I'm married," she continued, "I'm sure you'd like her, she's competent and a hard worker, she'll make an excellent hostess, all in all she's a sturdy woman…STURDY!" she screamed as she stood up, flailing the letter around.
"Study is quite nice…it could mean…um…"
"I mean nothing to him! If I were a half ton truck he'd be more lyrical about me, and the even worse part is this stupid woman with the ocean whooshing all over her toes is at this minute reading the letter he meant for me."
He looked at her, his eyes filled with pain for her, "I'm sorry Margaret you must really hurt," he stated softly. She looked at him, fury in her eyes, not directed at him.
"Hurt…do you know what it feels like to give your heart to someone to live just for his handwriting to come in the mail, to lose sight of his picture because you covered it in lipstick, then to find out your sturdy," she took another drink.
"Then to have them lob artillery at you."
"It certainly has been a interesting day," she whispered in a more defeated tone.
"Margaret I wish there was something I could say to ease the pain," he said moving to sit across from her, to look her in the eyes, to let her know he was there is and when she needed him.
"I'm all right, I've always taken great pride that I can adjust to anything." She stated strongly.
"Margaret, why don't you get it outta your system," he wished she would just cry, just show some weakness.
"I'm fine…thanks for the drink," she said gesturing to the cup.
"Would you like some more?" He asked holding the bottle. She reached as he handed it to her.
"Maybe just a sip…" he wasn't surprised when she took half a cup and chugged it down, in obvious pain.
"I'll sleep over there," she whispered, "oh I think I should warn you, if you come over here for any reason announce yourself, I intend to swing to kill," she said holding up the piece of wood. He smiled softly.
He remembered her screaming as he awoke to the shelling sound just outside the hut. Screaming for them to stop the bombing. Holding her…holding her, begging for it to stop….
He sat straight up in bed, terror filling his chest at the thought of what had come next. He looked around his room, dark and all alone, this was nothing new to him. Some days he opened his eyes expecting to see BJ in the next cot, or to hear Charles' annoying snoring.
It had been a year since the war had ended, a year since he had seen any of his comrades, a year since he had hugged BJ, kissed Margaret, and laughed with Colonel Potter. He had made it further than he imagined he would. He was finally getting back into the normal rhythm of things. He was working at Crabapple Cove Clinic, but he wasn't complete, he hadn't dated much since returning from Korea. He had been spending most of his time with his friends and his father.
"Ben?" came the kind voice, looking up Benjamin "Hawkeye" Pierce met his father's deep blue eyes. He hadn't the heart to leave his father since returning. Daniel had been alone for three years, and now they just couldn't get enough of one another company.
"Dad? What time is it?"
"Seven in the morning, I heard you talking, I was worried, I'm sorry if I woke you." Hawkeye shook his head.
"No…sorry dad, I should get ready for work," Hawkeye slowly stood, preparing to gather his clothes and take a shower.
Daniel Pierce watched his son as the younger man made his way down the hall to the bathroom. He sighed, no matter how much Hawkeye tried to deny it, Korea had left it's mark, in twelve months Hawkeye was still experiencing bad dreams, or flashbacks. Although not as bad as they had been, he was still having problems. He had gotten back into the busy life, trying to become occupied again.
Ben bid his father a goodbye twenty minutes later and drove to the clinic. The Crabapple Cove Clinic was on the edge of the sweet little town, six doctors worked there, with several nurses and of course David Dewitt, their supervisor.
It was a small one story brick building, twenty minutes from the actual Hospital, where most of the doctors did their afternoon rounds. Ben smiled as he pulled up beside his friend's car. It was days like this that made him feel much more at home than he had in the beginning.
He was greeted by the desk clerk Nancy St. James, "Morning Dr. Pierce," he smiled at her and looked down at the small boy sitting on the desk beside her. He had bleach blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Ben reached across the desk and ruffled the boy's hair.
"Hey Stevie, where's your dad?" he asked. The boy shrugged. Grinning Ben reached out and took the five year old into his arms. Stevie had been the one to help him get used to little children again. Mark Sloane was a good friend of his from high school; about six years ago he had married the love of his life Katherine Cranston, the two were happily married now with two little children, Steven being the eldest and Carol being the newest addition to the family. Mark and Stevie had come with Daniel to the airport when Ben arrived home, they had been there to help show Ben the good things in life again.
"Let's go find him then," the boy nodded as he sat against Ben's hip, "say bye bye Nancy," he chuckled as Nancy waved at the boy in response to Stevie's wave.
Stevie had become a mascot for the clinic, he didn't start school for another three months and until then he joined Mark at work every day, he had for the past nine months, or since the birth of his baby sister. Since the birth of his baby sister nine months ago Katherine had been on the edge, with Carol having cholic and crying it was hard to care for her and a rowdy five year old boy. So like any sane woman she told her husband to come up with an idea. At first Daniel Pierce, or Grandpa Daniel, as Stevie referred to him, had offered to care for the little boy. However, Daniel Pierce was still Doctor Pierce part time to most of the older members of the Crabapple Community. So Mark had decided bringing the boy to work was the best option and besides Stevie loved it.
"Daddy!" Stevie cried as he saw his father in the lounge. Mark grinned as he spotted his dear friend and his little boy.
"Hey there big guy," Mark said taking the boy into his arms. He looked up at Ben and smiled.
"You look like hell," Mark chuckled. Ben shook his head as he poured himself a cup of coffee and had a seat before his first appointment. Mark sat across from him and sighed.
"Oh good you're both here," came David's voice. Looking up Ben and Mark eyed their intrepid boss, he was a great and friendly man, in his fifties, he had been the man to deliver both Mark and Ben, to watch them grow and now be working with them was a dream come true for him.
"Here and awaiting a coffee break," joked Ben. David shook his head.
"Thank you Ben, look guys, I know you're not into the whole convention thing, but there's a medical convention next week, and I want you both there."
"Wait…why us?" Mark asked looking at Ben and then back at David.
"Because you are my head surgeons, two of my best, and I don't trust anyone else for the job. I know you can go, come home and give me the heads up on all the new stuff. Look boys I don't generally ask these favors of you, but I need this one."
"Great…where is it," Ben stated.
"Michigan, you leave day after tomorrow first thing in the morning."
"Lovely…" Mark replied.
"Can I go?" Stevie asked from his father's lap. David smiled and knelt down in front of the young boy.
"I'm sorry Stevie, not this time, but when you get bigger you can become a doctor just like your daddy," David said smiling, "now, if you'll excuse me, I've got paper work that is just calling my name," with that the man headed out the door. Ben grunted in annoyance and shook his head.
"So…guess we're stuck on a plane for three hours," Mark said chuckling.
"Yep…poker or chess?" Ben grinned.
"Poker, I'm just dying to get my eighty bucks you owe me," laughed Mark as they got up and headed out the door.
Daniel walked into his son's bedroom the next evening, watching his son pack in a hurry. Hawkeye had never liked packing, in fact as a child Daniel's wife Elizabeth had packed Ben's clothes until she died.
"Seems all too familiar," Daniel whispered. Ben smiled as he looked up at his father.
"I'll be back Friday next week, I promise…want anything?" Daniel chuckled.
"No thank you son, just be safe," Ben nodded and looked at his father.
"Dad…thanks…" he didn't know what else to say, he used to be great at telling his father how much he loved him. However suddenly he couldn't find the words. Daniel smiled and took a step forward, taking his only child into his arms.
"I love you too," Daniel whispered.
Colonel Potter had decided to ride his horse, Sophie, to the orphanage where he would take a jeep to get home. He quickly occupied his hands with his horse's saddle, unsure if he could face the boys he had come to see as sons.
"Well, boys, it would be hard to call what we've been through fun, but I'm sure glad we went through it together. You boys always managed to give me a good laugh, right when I needed it most. Never forget the time you dropped Winchester's drawers in the O.R. 'Course I had to pretend I was mad at you but, inside...," pausing, as he tried to get his voice steady again, he continued, " I was laughin' to beat all Hell!"
"Yeah. I'm laughing just thinking about it," Hawkeye lied as he watched his dear friend. Colonel Potter smiled weakly as he faced the boys.
"I'd love a good laugh like this." Whispered BJ. Colonel Potter nodded as he mounted his horse
"We've been thinking about a little something to give you before you left," B.J. said. "It's not much," Hawkeye said, "but it comes from the heart." And the two men stood to attention and saluted their departing CO. The man's eyes watered as he returned the respect back and then trotted off.
They both looked at each other for a moment, Hawkeye looked up at the helicopter pad seeing and hearing his mode of transportation, "Sounds like my taxi's here,"
"Come on, I'll give you a ride," Hawkeye nodded and followed BJ to his motorcycle.
They rode up to the helicopter pad, getting off and looking at the helicopter, Hawkeye turned to his friend and smiled, "Look, I know how tough it is for you to say goodbye, so I'll say it. Maybe you're right, maybe we will see each other again, but just in case we don't, I want you to know how much you've meant to me. I'll never be able to shake you; whenever I see a pair of big feet or a cheesy mustache, I'll think of you."
"Whenever I smell month-old socks, I'll think of you," replied BJ.
"Or the next time somebody nails my shoe to the floor..."
"...or when somebody gives me a martini that tastes like lighter fluid."
"I'll miss you," Hawkeye whispered.
"I'll miss you--a lot. I can't imagine what this place would've been like if I hadn't found you here!" The two men enveloped each other in hugs.
"Sir…" came the gentle tap on his shoulder. Jolted from his thoughts he looked up at the woman on the plane. She was beautiful, and sweet looking, probably about ten years younger than himself.
"I'm sorry," he whispered smiling at her.
"It's all right, I was just going to tell you the plane will be landing soon," he nodded his thanks and watched her head towards the back of the plane. Sighing he looked out the window, feeling a pang of sadness in his heart at the thoughts of the past. It had been a year since the end of the war, and he remembered the feeling. He never thought he would miss the war, he didn't; it was the people he desperately missed. He missed his friends, all of them, even Charles.
"Mark…Mark wake up," He nudged his friend next to him, the man snorted as he awoke, only a few years older than Ben, Mark was a wonderful man with a great family, a son of seven and a daughter of two, they were wonderful kids, and Katherine; Mark's wife was a wonderful friend and woman. The man's icy yet soft blue eyes opened, "how you doing?" Ben asked.
"Fine, Steven's been having those nightmares again, we almost there?" Ben nodded.
"Well, we should be landing any minute," Ben explained gently. Mark nodded his thanks and relaxed back into his seat, trying to imagine anything but his little boy. His son's seventh birthday was in three days and there was a chance he wouldn't be home for it.
"So where is it at?" Mark asked.
"Um…Michigan University Convention Centre," Ben replied.
"Lovely…"
They landed a little over twenty minutes later and headed to their hotel. The first meeting would be tomorrow morning at eight at the Convention Centre. As Ben sat down on his bed he realized his mind was more on the war than it had been in the past six months. For awhile he had a lot of trouble getting over the war and how it ended and saying goodbye to his friends.
Now after finally readjusting to life in little Crabapple Cove, he found himself thinking about all of them more now. He sighed as he closed his eyes, allowing the tired haze to set into his bones, he had twelve hours to waste before he had to be up tomorrow morning for breakfast. He closed his eyes, allowing his mind to wander, and allowing the dreams to invade his sleep.
She had the most beautiful blue eyes, that could become fiercely icy when angry, vacant when sad and sparkle when happy. That was the one thing he always knew about her. To most people Margaret was a closed book, that no one could easily open and that most didn't even give a damn about looking at.
Not him, he always knew her, he understood her every mood, at least the last two years of the war he did. He read her like a book that was opened in front of him that he never put down. So as she walked out of the mess tent that day the first thing he did was crack a joke, knowing it wasn't the joke she needed to hear.
"Margaret? Aren't you staying for the floor show? The cook's going to confess," he was a little worried when she brushed past him was a barely audible 'excuse me'. Worry instantly perked him as he followed her.
"Hey are you okay?" He asked.
"Leave me alone," she replied coldly. He wasn't shaken off so easily.
"Hey, what's you're hurry, let's talk a little," he knew it was what she needed, even if she was clueless.
"What do you want?" She asked facing him just in front of the swamp. She could read the concern in his face, in his beautiful azure eyes. She could never tell him the truth, the truth about how she felt. Just like he would never be able to tell her.
"Well you look all choked up, and I don't think it's the food."
"I don't know what you're talking about, and anyway it's none of your business," he shook his head, he was used to her act. She always assumed if she became rude people would leave her alone to build up her own walls. He knew better…
"It might help to talk. Look, two ears, no waiting." he said. She glared at him.
"Would you stop annoying me?" she asked.
"Fine!" he said, "I thought something was bothering you, and I wanted to help."
"You're always trying to get into my head when there's nothing there!" she said, as they both stopped outside her tent.
"Look, Margaret, sooner or later this place gets to everybody!" he said.
"I don't fall over Captain. Everything around here will be just fine if there's a little less leaning, and a lot more leadership. We need obedience. We need discipline. Not this chaos. Doctors like you, always out of uniform. Nurses who don't belong in uniform. Dogs running around loose in camp, they're getting run over by jeeps!" she said, almost crying. She turned and stormed into her tent, leaving him, slightly confused standing outside. After a moment, he followed her in. "Get out of here!" she ordered.
"No." he said. "Your emotions are all churned up. You're not doing yourself a favor keeping a cork on it. Let it out."
"There is nothing to let out!" she snarled, almost crying. "I am not churned up, I am not emotional. If you want to cork something, go cork your mouth. Go. Will you just go? Go on, will you just..."her tears were starting to come, and she didn't want to show emotions, she didn't want to be weak in front of him.
"Margaret," he interrupted. "I saw you sneaking food to that dog all week. And this morning it got run over. You're trying to tell me you're not upset by that?"
"I've got people dying all around me! You think I'd get upset because a dog gets run over? Why should I get upset about...about a... little dog." she sobbed. She turned her back on Hawkeye and started to cry, her shoulders shaking from her sobs. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, holding her gently. He prayed she knew, he was pleased when she turned in his arms, turning to sob into his arms. He held her close, as she buried her face in his shoulder, soaking his shoulder. He didn't seem to care, he just held her close, allowing her to cry out all her problems.
"It's okay Margaret, we all lose it now and then."
"You never lose it," she whimpered. He chuckled as he pulled away slightly, looking into her eyes he shook his head.
"Margaret, you are the strongest woman I have ever met, I lose it all the time, probably too often. I try and drink away my sorrows, but they're still here, the war is still here. The difference is I have someone to talk to. You shut yourself out Margaret, you have no one to talk to…well I'm here…you can talk to me, anytime of the day or night," he said gently, pulling her back into a hug.
"Thank you," she whimpered.
"You've got friends Margaret, more than it may seem."
He gasped as he sat up in his bed, looking around he realized he was in the hotel room in Boston. He wiped his damp forehead and looked at the clock… 4:39, he would have to wake up in two hours anyway. Shaking his head again to clear his thoughts he moved to the bathroom.
He stood under the hot water for twenty minutes, letting it douse him in the warming liquid, allowing some tension to roll off him. It hadn't been a nightmare, just an unexpected dream.
By the time he came out of the shower dressed and prepared for the meetings it was nearing 5:30 and he could hear Mark in the next room starting to get ready. With a grunt he decided to head downstairs to get some breakfast and read for awhile.
By six twenty Mark had joined him in the silent meal and they ready to head to the Convention.