Jessie couldn't stand it. She wanted to be in OR. But, the one thing that held her back was she knew they were watching. All of them. And she'd be damned if they would have something to go back and tell him if he got better.

When he gets better. Not if – when.

So, she volunteered to stay in pre-op, trying desperately to focus on prepping the wounded for surgery. If she stayed with him throughout his surgery, and he still treated her like he had been over the last couple of days if he got better, she knew she couldn't stand it.

Damn it, Callahan, when he gets better!

It was the most agonizing hour of her life. She had to call on every ounce of strength she had to act as indifferent as possible. It was weak to show emotion, and if her father drilled nothing else into her mind, it was that a Callahan was never, ever weak. As much as her father's constant harping about her rightful place in society was aggravating, she found it so much easier to fall back on what he had drilled into her head all those years.

Maybe my father was right after all. And Charles.

That gave her something else to thing about, anything to forget about the broken and bleeding body she had seen lying on the stretcher just hours before. Anything at all to keep her sane during the agonizing wait called surgery.

She almost jumped out of her skin when Father Mulcahy touched her arm as she was sterilizing instruments.

"Didn't mean to scare you, my child."

Jessie took a deep breath. "No, it's just . . . well I was . . . thinking." She wondered if he had news of how the surgery turned out, but didn't dare ask him.

Sign of weakness, remember?

It was almost as if he read her mind. "He's OK, Jessamyn. Hawkeye says as long as infection doesn't set in, he'll be back running this place in no time flat."

"Thank you, Father," she said in a clipped voice. It was all she could manage, grasping at what was left of her nerves to not break down in front of the priest. "Hawkeye's a very competent surgeon, and I'm sure the Corporal will be back on his feet in no time." She continued sorting instruments as if nothing were wrong.

Father Mulcahy sighed and walked away, shaking his head, a part of him relieved that he was not required to figure out the opposite sex.

When she was sure he was gone, she gripped the side of the cabinet to steady herself.

He made it!

But, she knew he wasn't out of the woods yet.

She owed Kelleye some time, so she volunteered to take her friend's place in post-op, ignoring the knowing glance her friend gave her.

Pausing at the door to post-op, she took a deep breath. Remember, he's just another patient. She walked into the room and took the chart off the first bed, checking each patient's vital signs and studiously making notes. Just another day in the ROK.

He was in the third bed. Jessie skipped it because Margaret and Hawkeye were hovering. She went on to the next bed and jumped when a hand touched her arm.

"Don't you want to see him?" Hawkeye asked.

Her eye fell on Radar lying in the bed behind him. Her heart sank at the sight of him wrapped in bandages. She shook her head.

Hawkeye restrained himself from shaking the stubborn nurse. "Suit yourself."

Jessie glared at his back and continued her rounds.

The night drug into day, and still Radar did not wake. She traded another shift, telling herself she was just catching up on owed time. She didn't want to admit the truth, which was she wasn't going to leave that room until she was sure he was going to be fine.

A few times, only when she felt no one was looking, she would steal over to his bed and watch his bandaged chest rise and fall. It was hard to not let the tears come. But, she had to be strong, at least for her own sanity's sake.

What had she told him before? He was too kind and gentle to die in a crummy place like this? But, kind and gentle were two traits that had little chance of survival in this modern-day hell, never more obvious then now that he had almost become another dismal statistic in a war chockfull of them.

What would she have done if he had gotten killed? Either died on the lonely dirt road a few miles from camp or on the operating table or even now? He would die angry at her, her own selfish refusal to fess up to her true self pushing him away.

Just the thought of it made her hurt. Physically. She returned to work before it got the best of her.

Evening came and still he slept. Finding herself alone in post-op, Jessie walked wearily to the side of his bed and flopped down on the floor. Someone had brought his bear and sat it on his pillow. It had fallen over, and she straightened it, patting it on the head. She checked his bandages, making sure they weren't too tight. Hawkeye said he wasn't in any pain. She didn't like to think of him being in pain.

Automatically, she took his hand into hers. It was warm, a good sign.

She was so tired. The last stint in OR had only been a couple of hours or so, but she had done back-to-back shifts in post-op. She had another one coming up, one that she was actually scheduled for, so she couldn't sleep. She was determined to see him awake before she crashed. She laid her head in her arms beside him to rest her eyes for a minute.

Hawkeye sauntered into post-op, trying to be chipper. He knew Jessie was still in there, and he also knew she wasn't really catching up on owed shifts. But, he was surprised to see her asleep next to Radar.

Charles was leaning on the metal bars that served as a footboard on the end of the cot, studying her. "Proud, isn't she?"

Hawkeye gave his bunkmate an of-course-you-would-know-about-proud look.

But, Charles didn't see it. "This whole shift, she won't even go near him. However, I leave for just a moment, and when I return, she's asleep right next to him."

"Pride cometh before a fall. But, I think she's already had her fall and feels badly for it." He elbowed Charles in the ribs. "Hey, wouldn't you like to have a pretty girl cry over you if you were hurt?"

Charles harrumphed. "Wouldn't be worth the injury, that's for sure." He watched her intently. "Think we should insist she get some sleep?"

"If I know Jessie - which I do - you wouldn't be able to drag her out of here by her toes until Radar here wakes up." He walked over to Jessie and nudged her with his knee gently. "But, I will send her out to get some of the horrid stuff they call coffee."

Jessie stirred and opened her eyes. She realized where she was and jumped back. "I-I must have dozed off." She thought about offering some excuse for her show of affection, but her mind wasn't working fast enough.

Hawkeye offered his hand and helped her stand. "Sixteen hours of post-op has that affect on some people. And watching someone you care about go through this," he said, motioning at Radar's prone figure.

She fished a tissue out of her pocket and blew her nose, ignoring his second comment and giving her flaming cheeks time to cool down. "Yeah, well, I shouldn't have dozed off on you and Charles," she said, trying to brush past them.

He grabbed her sleeve. "Since you plan on being here for the duration, at least go over to the mess tent and get some coffee. This is obviously taking a little longer than we expected, so there's no telling how long you'll have to stay."

Jessie shook her arm loose. "I'm fine, really."

Hawkeye rolled his eyes. "Charles, take her. Bet you haven't eaten anything, either, have you?" Before she could reply, he waved her off.

Charles ushered her out of post-op, and she squinted at the afternoon sunshine. Marching sullenly ahead of him, she let the mess tent door slam behind her and walked straight to the coffee pot. The tent was empty this time of day, and she plopped down at the nearest bench with her mug. Charles sat across from her, watching her.

She eyed him suspiciously. Much to her relief, he rose from the table.

Good. Maybe he'll leave me alone.

Instead, he had gone for a sandwich. When he turned around, she had both hands on her coffee cup, looking across the tent so forlornly that his heart went out to her. He sighed and walked towards the table.

"So, do you often play governess?" she said, masking her pain with caustic remarks. He would know. It was a ploy he used often himself. Placing the sandwich in front of her, he returned to his seat. She unceremoniously pushed it away.

Charles leaned in closer. "I don't normally play nursemaid to adults, but when they insist upon acting like children, I find myself in that role on occasion."

Jessie eyed him, then plopped her coffee cup down with a thunk and picked up the sandwich, taking a large bite out of it.

"There, happy?" she said with her mouth full. She wouldn't admit that she was actually starved.

He watched her eat, waiting until she was finished before speaking.

"Why in the world do you insist on being so stubborn?"

She motioned to her empty plate. "I ate the stupid sandwich, didn't I?"

"I wasn't talking about the sandwich, I was talking about Corporal O'Reilly."

Jessie's irritation disappeared in a moment. She blinked back tears she had tried so desperately not to shed. "What do you care? You never really liked him anyway." She flinched at her use of the past tense.

"My opinion of O'Reilly is not being discussed. If I'm not mistaken, you do."

"Well, it doesn't matter if I do or not because he does not!" she said, turning the mug around and around on the table.

Charles took her hand, making her stop, and she looked at him.

"Why don't you take some of that pride and stubbornness and use it to win him back, if that's what you want to do? I think you'll find that perhaps he isn't as spiteful towards you as you might think." In fact, Radar had been so mopey over the past week that Charles felt like locking the two in the storage room until they worked things out. "And if he is still mad at you after he finds out the way you have practically lived in post-op these past several hours, he doesn't deserve you."

His assessment of the situation touched her. She met his eyes for the first time. "Thanks, Charles."

He smiled at her, one of the few genuine smiles she ever saw him give, before he stood up and left her alone.

She massaged her temples, her brain a mess of jumbled thoughts. Sighing, she stood, placing her mug in the tray to be washed.

"Jessie, hey Jess!" Klinger called, rushing into the mess tent, skirts swishing.

Jessie's breath caught in her throat.

"He's awake!" Klinger said. "Isn't that great?"

For some reason, she was speechless. She had convinced herself this was not going to turn at well. But, somehow, it did. All she could do was stare stupidly at Klinger.

He finally turned her around and pushed her out the door. "Well, go see him already!"

Jessie stumbled out the door and tried to nonchalantly saunter across camp. But, she couldn't help it and broke into a trot.

She threw open the door to post-op and saw a crowd by his bed. She willed her heart to stop pounding as she quietly entered into the room. Standing behind Charles, she peeked over his shoulder.

He was sitting up, propped up by pillows, smiling wearily at Margaret as she poked and prodded at him. Everyone laughed at a joke B.J. had made, but she didn't hear it. Relief swam through every bone in her body, and if she didn't get out of there fast, everyone was going to see her break down.

As silently as she could, she turned for the door. Holding onto the side of the building, she stumbling around to a shadowy side before anyone caught her. Leaning against some crates covered with smelly green tarps and burying her face in her arms, she finally wept.

****************************************

Charles was the only one that saw her leave.

Maybe Hawkeye was right. Maybe it is comforting to have someone cry for me.

Stoically, he gathered her in his arms. Surprisingly, she didn't fight him, and he stroked her hair until the sobs subsided.

"I thought he was going to die," she finally hiccupped, her voice muffled.

"Hawkeye wouldn't be happy to hear you didn't think he was as omnipresent as he thinks he is," he said, still stroking her hair. God, she has beautiful hair . . .

"Feel better now?" he asked, pulling her back, a little uncomfortable with where his thoughts were heading. "Now, I expect you to go in there and face your corporal, tell him what you feel and damn the consequences." He smiled wickedly. "It's not like he can leave the room now, so you got him where you want him."

Jessie rolled her bloodshot eyes.

He patted her on the shoulder and walked away, leaving her alone in the shadows to face her options.

********************************************

She could go in there and see him. However, unless amnesia had set in, there was no guarantee she would receive a warm welcome, especially if the last several days had been any indication.

And she just flat out couldn't take his anger after she almost lost him.

She raced to Col. Potter's office and rushed in the double doors without knocking. The Colonel looked up startled.

"Sir, remember that week in Tokyo you offered me, and I said I didn't want. Well, I changed my mind," she blurted out.

Col. Potter leaned back in his chair, studying the frantic nurse. "Sure thing, Lieutenant. We haven't been too busy. When would you like to leave?"

"Now."

"Now?" he said, straightening. He studied her. "Have you been to see Radar yet?"

Jessie shook her head.

Col. Potter sighed. Youngsters. "Leave granted. Make sure you let Major Houlihan know. And let me know what hotel you're at in case we need you."

"Yes, sir!" Jessie answered as she raced out the door.

Twenty minutes later, she was rushing down the rutted road, holding on to the passenger side door, hurtling towards Tokyo.

Jessie had never been to Tokyo and would love to explore. But, not now. She checked into the Imperial Hotel, and multi-story facility that catered to rich businessmen and their wives before the war. A bellhop loaded her duffle bag into a cart and she followed into the elevator and rode it to the 10th floor.

After he was tipped and left, Jessie fell wearily onto the bed, still wearing her formal Army attire. She hadn't slept much on the short plane ride from Korea, but was soon sound asleep on top of the blankets.

********************************************

"What do you mean she's gone?" Hawkeye said incredulously. "She wouldn't let him out of her sight for hours, then once he wakes up, poof," he snapped his fingers for effect, "she's gone?"

Col. Potter shrugged. "The girl wanted to take her leave and take it right then. She certainly has earned it. Hadn't had any time off since she'd been here."

Hawkeye ran his hands through his hair. "Great! Radar has been asking for her practically since he woke up, and now what am I supposed to tell him?"

"Why don't you start with telling him the truth," Col. Potter suggested. "Tell him that she stood by his side the whole time, and when he woke up, she didn't want him to treat her like he had been treating her before-like shit." He shook his head. "Don't use those exact words. But, use something like that."

Hawkeye sighed heavily. "You know, this would be a whole lot easier if these two would just talk to each other."

Col. Potter chuckled. "Aahh, to be young again."

Hawkeye rolled his eyes and returned to post-op. As he walked in, Radar sat up suddenly, wincing at the pain. When he saw that the doctor was alone, his face fell.

"Feeling better?" Hawkeye asked him, checking his pulse.

"A little. Did you find her?"

"Find who?" Hawkeye said, making a note on the chart. At Radar's expression he smiled. "Oh yes, the lovely Jessamyn Callahan." He scribbled some notes. "She's in Tokyo."

"T-tokyo?" Radar stammered. "But, she was here not that long ago . . ." He trailed off.

Hawkeye watched him to make sure he was OK.

"She left because of me, didn't she?"

Hawkeye sat on the edge of the cot. "You haven't exactly been Mr. Personality lately."

Radar picked at imaginary fuzz on the blanket. "Yeah, I guess I hadn't been exactly nice to her since we found out she was rich. I said some mean things to her, and really was mad at her, but only for a little while. Mostly, I didn't know how to make things right."

Hawkeye watched him intently.

Radar thought about how often he saw her fight back tears after he huffed away from her. "Some guy I am, huh?"

Hawkeye patted him on the leg. "If she hated you, she wouldn't have stayed in this room the whole time you were here. And I mean the whole time."

Radar stared off into space. "I knew she was here. She was sad. And I guess it surprised me, you know."

"She's not a monster, Radar. Maybe a little misguided in her own mind, but there're much worse traits to have."

"I wanted to wake up and tell her everything was going to be OK, but I couldn't."

Hawkeye rose from the bed. "You know, you can still tell her. From what I hear, she's staying at the Imperial Hotel." He walked away, pleased with himself.