Okay, fellow pen pals. Lol. Anyway, this is just me being a girl in the mood for writing a fun fanfiction. This is my first on here, but not my first written. Anyway, I have a few forewarnings. One, expect fantasy. There will be lots of fantasy, because fantasy is my forte. Please be considerate of this and patience with the lack of realism. I have plans for a future fanfic X-over with this.
Two, I expect I'll go insanely out of character with Hawkeye. Just let me know how I can improve on him, and be extra patient with me there. This will be set during season 5, mostly because I know if I think I'll do that badly with Hawk, then how would I handle all the other perverts in the war. Anyway, on to the disclaimer…
Disclaimer: Much to my dismay, I do not and never will own the M*A*S*H trademark, logo, characters, or plot ideas. However, I do own my OC, Dragea, and the plotline to this fanfiction. Now enjoy my unrealistic, but hopefully enjoyable story, and don't hesitate to give reviews.
Chapter 1: A normal 4077th day.
4077th M*A*S*H. A M*A*S*H unit like no other, that's what it was. The strangest characters you could ever imagine were there. Even in the worst conditions in OR, people cracked jokes and conversed as if they all the time in the world to fool around. Still, they had the highest efficiency ratings in all the M*A*S*H units of Korea. Some of the best surgeons resided there, and then also one of the worst.
It was about noon, during lunch. Two men were conversing. One of them had raven black hair that was sleek and very short. The other man had similar hair, only brown instead of black. The black-haired man, known as Hawkeye, was once again reminiscing about the past experiences with their lost CO and his long gone friend.
Being that the brown-haired man, BJ, had just come from several hours of surgery and that it was so cold, he couldn't pay attention to what Hawkeye had been saying. Besides, his mind was on one of his patients. There wasn't anything wrong with him, but he seemed strangely quiet and he knew the wound was self-inflicted. "Something wrong, Beej?"
At this, his head picked up. Hawk must have realized that he wasn't responded. He shook his head. "Just thinking about something." He explained to Hawkeye. He could tell Hawk wasn't completely satisfied with that, but he didn't press on. He raised an eyebrow, but shook it off.
With that, they finished their meals in somewhat of a silence. There was the occasional poking fun at the food and at Frank. He managed to take his mind off enough to chuckle at Hawk's comments and even made a few of his own. After lunch, they headed back to "the Swamp", their current home away from home if it could even be called that.
Pretty much, the day dragged on very boringly. And, it wasn't over, yet. Frank, the ever-dull surgeon who couldn't operate well on a person, if it meant saving his skin, had yet to be his usual pain in the rear. As usual, he entered the tent with a gun in hand.
"Frank! Would you put that gun away?! We don't need you shooting someone, and make it impossible for one of us to operate. Unless, it's you." Hawkeye snapped, obviously annoyed. One of his sole morals revolved around a 'no guns ever' policy and he planned to stick with it until the end of the war.
"Pierce, may I remind you once again that we're not that far from the front and there are Koreans all over the place. For all we know, this camp could get overrun in an instant." Frank snapped back, being his paranoid self.
Hawkeye rolled his eyes and was about to retort when the five foot something company clerk burst in and called "Wounded", making them all leap and run over to see the main damage. There weren't too many, considering what they normally got. Hawkeye was the first one there and was starting to look for the important cases to get prepped first. Honestly, they were all pretty bad, but the main one that attracted his attention was a girl that was barely 18, if that.