1A/N: Thanks, LLR for the idea! It's Frank's POV this time.
I sat there, alone, as always. The two Captains were working their shifts, McIntyre in the Supply Room and Pierce in Post-Op. I look over at their still and think to myself and think 'What the heck? Why not try some?' So I went over and it was ready to be tapped. So I tapped it into a martini glass, which I cleaned with my uniform (always clean), I took a sip and I threw it back up, that and my breakfast. What am I going to do now? I never drank their before and now I know that I am lucky I didn't. It tasted worse than the time Margaret forgot to wash her neck.
Suddenly, I heard them coming. So I jumped into my bed with a medical magazine (hopefully I'll learn more technique to impress everyone some more) and began to read how to do simple operations. This week it was 'Setting Broken Bones'. Great! I've been waiting for that one. Uh-oh, they're coming in.
"Hi, Frank."
"Hello, Frank."
"Never you mind!" Hopefully I've made them laugh inside.
Hawkeye immediately smelled the bile and I did what I could to deny it.
"Ewww! What's that smell?"
"I believe that's bile, Hawk.
"Who would–" Suddenly, he knew who it was. "Frank are you OK?"
"Yes, I feel fine why?"
"Is that your bile by any chance?"
"That's none of your business, Mr. Jokes-a-lot!" Hopefully I impresses them that time.
Trap (I hope I can call him that now) noticed that I've gotten some bile on the glass. "Hawk, it was him. Look." He handed him the glass. Hawk, (Is that OK?) Panicked and dropped the glass and it shattered on the still's table. Suddenly, he turned to me, glaring.
"You know we don't you taking our stuff. How would you like it if we read your Bible?"
"I did not use your glass."
"Frank?"
"Yea, Hawk? (God, did I say that out loud)"
"GET OUT! NEVER CALL ME HAWK YOU NERTS!" Suddenly he was searching for something, a weapon? He ripped a drawer out of the still's table then he turned and threw it at me. I tried running but, it hit me on the head and I got knocked out cold.
I was having a flashback of some kind, back to a time when I was a kid hanging out with Charlie;
We were on the swings, he was talking to me, I don't know about what but, all of a sudden he started mooning me! (Well, he was the weird one of the family.) Then he pulled his pants back up and we went inside the house (it was my aunt's). I saw it then, the best cake you could ever have; Vanilla cake with chocolate frosting!
It was unique, she used a yellow cake recipe but added vanilla to it. Then she made brownies, and she would put some water in a bowl (not a lot so it'd be watery but enough so it's not too thick) Then she would mash the brownies in there and it became this half bread, half liquid kind of thing. Then she would put it over the fire in the fireplace for an minute and presto! It was frosting! The best frosting ever! I decided that I could try the frosting from the cake, just a bit. So I started to smeared my finger through it and suddenly my head hurt.
It was my father, drunk and he saw me taking some frosting. I would basically live I Hell for the rest of the night then. He would take me into the dinning room and take off his belt. HE would make me take off my pants and shirt and starting hitting me!
It wasn't like I wasn't used to it. I got beatings practically everyday! But, this time was different, I was hit on my; backside, back, stomach, arms, legs, and sometimes even my head! This only happened if I did something REALLY bad. Not if I forgot to feed the dog or tripped in public, (I was clumsy) but if I broke a window or talked back.
I looked to the guests, pleading for their help but, they shook their heads 'no'. Then I started to cry, which made my father beat me harder. "No crybabies in the Burns family" he would always say. Charlie was laughing, making me laugh harder, making my dad hit me harder!
Nobody likes or have ever liked me!