Summary: Two fights, one physical and one verbal. Harsh words can drag up memories long forgotten. What was it that happened after the fight in the Mess Tent in the episode 'Sticky Wicket'? No slash, one shot.
Author's Note: My very first MASH fic, and I am immensely proud of it. I do apologise if any of the characters seem OOC, and I would appreciate some feedback if you can find the time. Thank you readers!
Disclaimer: I do not own anything out of this story, except the original plot line. Characters and other recognisable plots/places etc. all belong to their respective owners. If you see any material that resembles another fic, I apologise in advance. Any resemblance is coincidental and unintentional. I am also not creative enough to come up with something as awesome as M*A*S*H, and besides, I wasn't even alive during the 1970's – 1980's.
Troubled Mind, Troubled Heart
By Fan of the Just King
*After Mess Tent fight, Hawkeye's POV*
"Get him out of here, MacIntyre!"
Trapper's arms dragged me out of the Mess Tent as I shot one last steely glare at Frank. I kept silent as we kept up the quick pace; that is until Trapper all but shoved me into the outside wall of the main building. I let out a small wince as one of the protruding nails stuck me in the back, and Trapper forced my gaze upward with his hand.
"You idiot! What were you thinking?"
I frowned at him; anger boiling inside me with all the strength of the shot of a machine gun.
"What was I thinking? It was Frank who started that, not me! He's the one who's insulting me and my abilities, and you ask what I was thinking?" I growled, my eyes narrowing.
Trapper raised an eyebrow, annoyance showing clear in his eyes. It was clear he was growing angry too.
"Listen, Hawk, I will admit that Frank wasn't doing himself any favours by saying that about you, but have you ever thought of doing the crazy and listening to him? He does have a few points you know."
He should have known that wouldn't go down well with me; he was my best friend, so why did he say it when I was already angrier than an eagle that missed the prey of a lifetime.
"Listen to him? Look Trap, he all but insulted me in there, and he knows what's going on; and yet he still says those things!" I all but screamed at him.
"You did the same thing last night! You're turning into a selfish, self-centred, arrogant human being!" he shouted, eyes gathered new anger, but his voice was just on the warm side of freezing.
That took me by surprise, and completely deflated my anger. Instead, I felt a dull burn against my eyes.
Trapper seemed to notice; his eyes softened and he placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Hey, Hawk, I didn't mean that, really" he whispered.
I shook my head, the burning was getting stronger; I needed to get away.
"Night Trapper" I murmured bluntly and strode away. Towards Post-Op.
(Post Op, Hawkeye's POV)
Thankfully, Post Op was empty, save for the patients. I found myself walking towards Thompson's bunk, but my thoughts kept returning to Trapper's harsh words.
They reminded me of something one of my friends had said back in elementary school. Mom had just died and I had been cold, depressed and very snappy. It seemed that Trapper had taken the words right from his mouth.
What had really stung were Frank's words, especially about not having killed anyone. Damn it! Did he really think that I was trying to kill Thompson?
I sat down on the bunk next to Thompson, reading the disappointing results on his chart for the millionth time. Lowering myself onto the pillow, I couldn't help but think that they might be right. Was that what I was turning into, the person I'd always despised, all because of one sour patient?
The burn was back in my eyes, and this time, I didn't try and stop it. Blinking through the blur of heat and moisture, I wondered what Mom would think if she saw me like this. I wondered if I really was turning into another Frank Burns.
Giving up on Thompson's case for the night, I let my eyes close, and felt something wet run down my cheek.
Oh gosh, what am I becoming?
The End