It was early in the morning. Cold just like all the other days this past week. He came to the kitchen so he could read the mail while eating what Louise had prepared for breakfast.
Trapper had already began writing his second letter to Hawkeye. Since he left with no formal goodbye, a few weeks ago he thought it high time he should write something to Hawkeye. Anything.
An apology? A letter of thanks? Of friendship? Well, it was a combination of all of those. And more. He hadn't gotten anything back from Hawkeye, until today.
Only... it wasn't from Hawkeye.
It was the letter he sent to Hawkeye. And when he reached for the envelope, which was still unopened, his hands began to quiver at the sight of the bold words stamped across the front.
RECIPIANT KILLED IN ACTION.
As the numbness began to settle in, Trapper crumpled up the letter along with the second one he had begun to write.
Because Hawkeye would never read them. He was too late.
Only, he wasn't too late. But he would never know that. Neither would Hawkeye. Hawkeye simply accepted the fact that Trapper no longer wanted to be a part of his life. Never knowing about the letters sitting in the trash bin.