23
No News Is Still Better Than Bad News
Two days passed with no word of Irene and Hawkeye was getting antsy. Phone lines were closed to anything that wasn't necessary. Turns out HQ didn't deem checking in on a patient to be necessary enough and every request Hawk had made had been denied.
He sat in the Swamp, tossing a ball back and forth with BJ but every toss was getting more and more aggressive. BJ caught the last one and shook the sting out of his hand.
"Easy, Hawk, we're not training for the Dodgers."
"Sorry, Beej."
"You've been tense since Irene left. You really need to relax. You did a good job on her. She'll be fine."
"I don't know. They moved her out so fast. I didn't have time to check her myself."
"They had to get her out of here for the next wave."
"Yeah I know," Hawk tossed the ball back, softer this time. "That OR session was brutal."
"My feet are still trying to sue me for damages."
"I've been here since the start and I figure I've seen it all. Then the war changes and decides to surprise me. You really think she's fine?"
"I'm sure you'll get word any day now saying she's on her way home, safe and sound."
Radar knocked on the door and opened it, shuffling in before Hawk or BJ could answer. He fidgeted with his clipboard and sat on the end of Winchester's cot.
"Don't let Charles catch you sitting on his bunk or he'll have your head," BJ smiled.
"He's got a little guillotine under his pillow," Hawk added before realizing that something was bothering Radar. The kid's face was pale but his eyes were puffy and he didn't look up at them. "What's wrong, Radar?"
"I got through to Tokyo General," he said.
"What? You did? Did they tell you about Irene?" Hawkeye stood so fast he knocked his martini glass on the floor
"I'm sorry Hawk, but… an infection set in after she got to the hospital and… and she didn't make it, sir."
Hawkeye's shoulders fell and he dropped into his chair. Dead? He wrapped his hand around his dog tags. "How, I don't—"
"Hawk," BJ started, but Hawkeye didn't want to hear whatever he had to say. Condolences only solidified what Radar had said.
"No. No, she can't be." Hawk threw the ball to the floor, pacing to the side just to turn back to Radar. "I want a line through to the hospital. I want to talk to them myself."
"There's no getting through again, sir. I'm already in trouble for lying to get through the first time. I liked her too, ya know," Radar snapped.
Hawkeye turned on him so fast his dog tags swung around and slapped his shoulder. He lowered himself slightly to stare Radar in the eye, fire burning in his chest. "You don't understand. I didn't just like Irene. I loved her. Still love her. I was going to change for that girl and now you tell me she's gone."
"It's not his fault, Hawk," BJ said. "I can't imagine how you feel but—"
"You're right. You can't imagine because the girl you love is safe in her home in Mill Valley; eating fudge and drinking coffee and taking care of the kid you two had the opportunity to make together."
"Where are you going?"
"Anywhere but here." Hawkeye stormed out the door, slamming it with such force the dartboard fell off.
Problem was, he didn't know where to go. Rosie's would be packed out since it was pay day. He'd have to go to the officer's club and hope there wouldn't be anyone there. He didn't want company. He didn't want anything. Except the one thing he couldn't have. Not anymore.
There weren't many people hanging around in the officer's club, just Zale and Igor, both of whom seemed one shot from passing out at their table. Klinger had replaced Igor as the bar keep and played the part by dressing in a peasant dress with a bandana around his head and gold hoop earrings.
"Ah, Captain Pierce. I'm sure to rack up on tips with you at the bar," Klinger joked, pouring a martini. "Hey, why the long face?"
"Irene. Got word from Tokyo that she didn't make it."
"Oh, I'm sorry, sir. First one's on me. You wanna talk about it?"
"I just want to be left alone." Hawkeye downed the first glass. "Just keep these coming. Put them on my tab."
"Got it." Klinger poured one more and walked away, sitting at the far end of the bar to read a magazine.
The drinks went down like water, the burn dulled by a pain he didn't know he could feel. He'd never had to feel it before. Gave him a small glimpse into how his father felt when his mother died. Back then he'd been angry with his father for hiding what was happening. Angry for losing his mother. He'd never thought about what it meant for his dad.
Hawk had only known Irene for a short time. His parents had been married for years. He'd have to apologize to his dad once he felt he could handle it. If that time ever came. She was gone. Forever. Just when things were smoothing out and he might have been able to change. He was willing to change. Now all he could do was lament over what could have been.
It took a couple hours before his alcohol tolerance met its match. He woke the next morning under surveillance in the Swamp. Post-op was full and the war was still moving but Hawkeye… he kept staring at the slow, steady drip of alcohol in the still. BJ was writing when Hawkeye woke, his head pounding, stomach rolling. He didn't move or speak, and BJ didn't notice he was awake, just kept on writing. Probably to his wife. Probably telling her how much he missed her and how he longed to hold her and…
Hawkeye closed his eyes tight, his hangover throbbing behind his eyelids. A quiet sob escaped him and BJ was sitting in Hawk's chair in an instant. BJ's hand rested on his shoulder and somehow that made the pain worse.
"Hawk?"
"I had a terrible dream that Irene…"
"I'm sorry, but it wasn't a dream. Radar was in here yesterday, do you remember?"
"It's hazy."
"You went to the officer's club and blacked out. You don't remember how you got that?" BJ pointed to Hawk's right hand.
He hadn't noticed the bandages wrapped knuckles to wrist. "What happened?"
"You decked a Sergeant and trashed the bar. Took me, Klinger, and Potter to wrestle you to the ground. Margaret had to sedate you."
Hawk covered his face with his hands.
"Potter wants to call Sidney out here."
"I don't need that," Hawkeye sat up. "I need a drink."
"I think you had enough last night. You can't run from this. Let us help up you."
"I don't need anyone's help. What I need I can't have any more."
"Just lay down and sleep. Get some rest. The past few weeks have been hell on you. If you get some sleep it'll be a little better when you wake up."
BJ helped Hawkeye to lay back down but restlessness was eating him alive. He wanted to walk to Tokyo and see for himself. He was angry before. He was still angry now, but there was a layer of guilt that had settled over his bones. How'd it happen? He'd done the best he could. Better than his best. Left his fingerprints on her heart.
He held up his right hand and looked over the unique patterns and swirls on his fingers until the tears in his eyes obstructed his vision. He tucked the hand under his head and kept his eyes shut tight, hoping BJ would get the point and go away. They sat in silence for a time, then BJ patted Hawk's shoulder and walked away.
"If you change your mind, I'm right here."
Hawk rolled over in his cot and put his back to BJ, preferring to keep his grief to himself. As soon as his bodyguard was asleep he'd be doing the only thing he could, ruining his liver. If he was lucky, it'd do him in for good.