A/N: Music/television references for anyone who's interested, in order of appearance :)

- The TV show they're watching is What's My Line, the particular episode aired in 1970 (shhh) with Alan Alda as a contestant.

- The song on the radio is Perry Como's Don't Let the Stars Get in Your Eyes

- Hawkeye is singing Ain't We Got Fun, any version you like.

- And he whistles Star Dust by Hoagy Carmichael

Almost as soon as he had calmed down, Hawkeye was back to his usual self. The two men spent dinner laughing and reminiscing about days long past, letting their food turn cold as they used to. Eventually they found themselves in front of the television, Daniel in his chair, and Hawkeye sprawled on the rug, legs up on the couch, watching upside down. To look at them you would think they had gone back in time, to the days of their first television set and a restless teenaged boy.

"I scream, you scream, we all scream for-" Hawkeye timed his commentary perfectly as the game-show contestant questioned, "ice-cream?"

With his son safe and happy, at least for the moment, Daniel pushed himself out of his chair. He had been thinking it over on and off for the last few days, and now he knew it was time for him to make the call. Once inside his study he closed the door gently behind him, smiling to himself as he heard Hawkeye's laughter through the wood. That boy's laugh had never struggled to fill every corner of the house. Daniel took a seat at the old desk, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket as he did. He attempted to smooth it out against the wood, but there was little that could be done. He had been carrying the letter since the day he'd received it, reading it over again in any free moment.

He skimmed over the familiar words to the line at the bottom, reaching for the phone as he did. He didn't really need the reference, having read it so many times he could recite it by heart, but it gave him confidence to have the words in front of him. A month ago he wouldn't have been happy calling anyone in a situation like this. Then he got the letter, and the first name was added to the list.

The Hunnicutt house was full of noise when the phone rang. The radio was on in the kitchen, the words of Perry Como being drowned out by an enthusiastic Erin, who at this point was singing along to everything she heard, despite knowing none of the words. BJ was bouncing the toddler on his lap as he watched his wife dancing around the kitchen preparing dinner. At the sound of the phone Peg turned down the music and took Erin from her father's knee, sitting her up on the bench to help with the preparations.

BJ was still smiling when he picked up the receiver and accepted the call. "Hello?"

"BJ? It's Daniel Pierce. How are you? How's the little monkey?"

The voice on the other end was calm, but it put BJ immediately on edge. He hadn't heard from Hawkeye since they'd left Korea, though he'd tried more than once by phone and mail.

"Mr Pierce! Is everything alright?" He had only spoken to Hawkeye's father once before, and then Daniel had only been able to say two words. "Hawkeye?"

"Nothing's happened, it's alright." For a moment there was silence, and then a deep breath. "I think he needs more help than I can give him, BJ. Yours is the only number I have."

BJ didn't miss a beat. "What do you need?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure I even know that." Daniel sighed. He had learnt by now that there were some things his son needed that he couldn't provide. But that didn't make asking any easier. "I don't think he should be on his own. He's not going to want to talk. He needs someone to wait him out, someone who knows what he's going through. Listen, I'm not asking you to fly over here. You've got your own life to think about. I just need to know who to call."

"You don't have to ask, sir. He's my best friend." BJ took a moment to think, trying to get his thoughts in order. "Let me make some calls, I'll get things sorted for you. Can I call you tomorrow morning?"

BJ took down the number of the Crabapple Cove surgery. Early morning in California meant mid-morning in Maine, and it was unlikely he'd manage to call before Daniel had arrived at work. He hung up the phone without replacing the receiver, and turned to find Peg standing in the doorway behind him.

Her expression was serious, and he could tell she'd heard at least some of the call. "Hawkeye?" She asked quietly. BJ simply nodded in reply, there were no words that could explain everything running through his mind at that moment. Peg walked over to him, reaching up to stroke his cheek. Seeing the worry in his eyes she didn't need to understand all that he was feeling. She knew enough. "Do whatever you need to do."

Peg went off to help Erin wash her hands for dinner, and BJ sank into the chair beside the phone. If he wanted to get this done quickly, there was only one person he needed to call. "Operator? Ottumwa, Iowa please."

When Daniel returned to the loungeroom he found Hawkeye standing in front of the television, staring blankly down at the screen. The younger man started slightly as the door came to, and looked up to face his father, giving him a half-smile.

"I was just going to bed. Did you want me to leave it on?" He asked, gesturing to the television.

"No, that's alright." Daniel paused for a moment, watching his son with concern. "If you need anything tonight..."

"I'll yell, I'm sure."

"See if you can wake the neighbours too, they've been getting a bit restless lately. Mrs Lakeman's been watering her garden about five times a day."

Hawkeye's smile broke into a grin. "I'll try to add something special just for her." He switched off the television set and danced over to the staircase, before bounding up two steps at a time, all the while singing, "In the morning, in the evening, ain't we got fun…"

At the top of the stairs Hawkeye slowed his pace, letting his smile fade, though he continued to hum to himself. He swung his bedroom door closed behind him and paused for a moment before leaning back against it. Closing his eyes, he tapped the back of his head gently against the wood. He had no idea why he'd come upstairs, just that he'd suddenly wanted to be alone. Now that he was alone, however, he wanted to be anything but.

The silence in the empty room seemed to hum in his ears, and he could feel his heart start to jolt inside in his chest. Always now it seemed he was afraid, though what he was afraid of he didn't always know. Emotion was building in his stomach, and his eyes shot open to face the window opposite. The black night behind it made the glass a faded mirror, and he found himself face to face with his reflection. Taking slow, deep breaths he stared into his own eyes, searching for… something. But they were blank, his thoughts hidden behind the self-involved glaze he'd seen so often around the camp. Was that what his father saw?

He sighed heavily and broke the stare, searching with one hand for the light switch. When the darkness of the outside was matched within the room, there was no reflection. With his hands in his pockets he walked across the room and stood by the glass, gazing down onto the street below. There he could see the driveway where he'd learned to play basketball; the trees he'd climbed, and fallen out of, and climbed again; the road he had raced down, on foot, on his bike, in the rickety cart they'd made in Toby's garage. It felt like he'd spent his childhood running, out into the world, until the sun went down and his mother called him home.

He could hear her voice then as clear as ever, and he turned back to face his empty room. It was the same room he'd always had, and though it was clear now of many of his things, every chip of paint still held a reminder of days past. And there, sitting in the darkness on the pillows of his bed, was a stuffed owl. Hawkeye stood for a moment in disbelief, before walking over to the bed and slowly picking up the toy. It looked so small in his adult hands, so tattered and worn compared to his memories. The last he could remember having it he had been 10 years old, and it had stayed with him every night.

Without another thought he placed the owl carefully back on the bed and went to the door. No light was coming in from underneath it, and the only sounds he could make out were the familiar movements of the old house. Taking his chances that Daniel was actually asleep, and not just in his room rereading Last of the Mohicans, Hawkeye opened the door into the silent hallway and made his way downstairs. Once in the loungeroom he put on the sweater he'd left there that afternoon and headed for the front door; he might be crazy, but he wasn't going to let himself freeze.

The warmth of summer faded quickly this far north, and Hawkeye pushed his hands into his pockets as he walked the sleeping streets. Only a select few of the streets of Crabapple Cove were lit at night, and the route he had chosen met none of them. The blanket of the night brought comfort to his anxious mind, without it he knew he would never have brought himself to leave the house. Gazing up at the stars in the clear night sky, he began to whistle, softly at first, but growing louder with every step.

Even in the darkness he could see the simple iron gates long before he reached them, and the moment they came into view a sense of urgency overcame him and his pace quickened. But when he finally found himself crossing the threshold, he slowed again almost to a standstill. It had been a long time since he'd walked onto those grounds, and the shadows of the night did nothing to help the feeling that he should never have come. Nonetheless he continued on, weaving his way slowly between stones and statues, until he found just the one he was looking for.

He stood for a moment then, surrounded by the music of the night, of birds rustling in the branches and the last of the summer crickets singing beneath the ground. All the world seemed muted to him then, as though a cloud lay across the sources of sound, and when he finally spoke, his voice rang out across the cemetery.

"Hey, Mom. I'm sorry it's been a while."