"G'mornin' mate!" Peter Newkirk sat down at the table after roll call, lighting his first cigarette of the day.
"What's so good about it?" Andrew Carter groused, a sour expression on his normally cheerful face. He stood up abruptly and stalked out of the room, slamming the door as he left the barracks.
Surprised, Newkirk looked over at Kinch, who was also looking on in amazement. "What's eatin' him?"
Kinch shrugged, "Dunno, but you know Carter. He'll likely walk it off and get over it."
Hogan came out of his room at the sound of the door. "What's up, fellas? What's with all the noise?"
LeBeau looked up from where he was fussing with something at the stove. "You'll have to ask Carter when he gets back; but if he slams that door again, he's going to ruin my soufflé for sure."
Hogan was puzzled. Carter in a temper? He scratched his head and turned to Kinch. "Tell him I want to talk to him when he gets back, will you?"
"Will do, Colonel."
Satisfied for the moment, Hogan went on back into his room, and settled back down with the book he had been reading.
Newkirk on the other hand was still pondering the situation.
"Anybody notice anything strange about Carter lately?"
"Like what?" Kinch was interested now.
"I dunno...like different. I know he hasn't been talking all the time like he usually does. That's one thing."
LeBeau put in, "And he doesn't eat much. Of course, that's not so strange; he doesn't usually eat all that much. But he has been much quieter."
Kinch chuckled, "Maybe he's in love."
Newkirk snickered, "With who, mate? He hasn't even been in town since that barmaid dumped him."
LeBeau grinned, "Maybe he's seeing Hilda on the sly."
Newkirk outright laughed at that. "And risk getting his head handed to him by Colonel Hogan. No, mate, Carter may be dumb, but he's not stupid."
Unfortunately, none of them had seen Carter slip quietly back into the barracks. He had heard Newkirk's last comment. He opened the door again and closed it more loudly, making them all jump. The expression on his face said it all.
Newkirk stood up quickly and started to apologize, but Carter held up his hand and shook his head. "Don't. Just don't, Newkirk. I get it."
Lamely, Kinch pointed to Hogan's quarters, "Col. Hogan wants to see you."
"Yeah, well, I don't want to see him!"
"He told me to give you the message!"
"And I outrank you, so you gave me the message. So don't worry about it."
And with that Carter stormed toward the door, only to be collared by Hogan, who stepped through his door at that moment. "Hold it, Sergeant. I gave you an order." With that the young man was pulled bodily backwards into Hogan's quarters and the door was firmly shut.
The others in the barracks stared at each other in astonishment. Newkirk blew out his breath.
Andrew sat sullenly across from his colonel, not meeting his eyes. Hogan was genuinely confused by his normally affable demolition expert's uncharacteristic behavior. He also knew how stubborn he could be and that he wasn't going to get anything out of him without playing twenty questions.
"What happened in there between you and the guys?"
"Nothing." Okay, he should have expected that one.
"It sounded as if you were having an argument."
"Nothing that won't work itself out."
"Things have been quiet lately."
"Yessir."
"How have your experiments been going?"
"Fine."
"No concussions, no blowing yourself up?" Hogan tried to say this lightly, but the questions were serious. Carter had a knack for blowing himself to kingdom come with disturbing regularity and seeming to survive most of the attempts fairly unscathed.
"Sir, I am totally fine. May I go?"
"Actually, no you may not. You didn't answer my question."
Carter sighed. "No concussions, no explosions, no chemical spills, and no experiments gone wrong...I am completely fine! Sir!"
This last was said through clenched teeth, and barely contained rage.
Hogan shook his head and looked closer at Andrew's pale, haggard face. "No, Sergeant, I really don't think you are. But I have no idea what's wrong. You don't feel sick or anything?"
Carter seemed calmer. "No, sir, honestly. I am fine. If it will make you feel better, I'll go lie down for a while."
Hogan nodded. "That might be a good idea. At least till lunch."
"I'll do that. Are you going to be in here, sir?"
Hogan sighed. "Yeah, I have a lot of Red Cross paperwork to catch up on. Tell LeBeau to bring mine into me, will you?"
"Yessir."
Carter relayed the message to LeBeau, then without another word headed to the tunnel bunk. He stayed down in his lab, puttering for several hours. He knew laying down would have been pointless.
He was not about to explain to Colonel Hogan that he could not sleep. That he would not sleep. That he had not slept in nearly 67 hours. That if it were up to him, he would never sleep again. He eyed the concoction. He lifted the beaker and drank. It tasted terrible, but it kept the nightmares at bay, and that's all he cared about.
