24

The Shot And The Cure

Two weeks passed and brought Hawkeye to a position of semi stability. At least when he was around other people. The time seemed to drag, and yet it felt like yesterday he heard of Irene's death. Shirley's court martial had gone smoothly, considering the person she'd attacked was no longer alive. She was sentenced and begged for Hawkeye when she was taken from the room but he didn't give her a second glance. He couldn't feel anything toward her.

Not enough time had passed for him to feel like laughing without guilt, and yet his body was rebelling against him. She wouldn't want him to be sad. She wouldn't want him to drink himself into a stupor every night or cry into his pillow or wake screaming in the morning.

At least that's what they all told him as soon as his anger fizzled out and left nothing but a strange hollow feeling that was only filled when pain was present. A few days in Seoul a week after her death had been the first time he'd been able to grieve the way he felt he needed to. He drank. He laid in bed. He paced the room, smashed a flower vase and looked himself in the mirror to see that he didn't recognize the man he saw there.

That realization scared him into the back room at the Pink Pagoda and into the arms of a beautiful Korean woman with warm brown eyes and endless bottles of saki. He didn't remember anything else about that night but from what he heard later, he'd ended up bawling his eyes out halfway through getting the lady out of her pink kimono and had to be taken back to his hotel.

Of course that story never made it back to camp. He'd already been through sessions with Sidney and didn't want them to think he was cracking up for good. He thought he was doing a good job at passing off as sane. Smiling in the proper company and keeping his drinking limited. The nightmares had all but stopped and he rarely cried like a madman. He kept it quiet. Grieved in private. About the only thing he couldn't get a handle on was his temper, but he was working on it.

"You awake, doc?"

Hawkeye looked over to the Sergeant that was driving. How long had it been since he spoke to the poor guy? Had to be hours. It'd been midafternoon when they left battalion aid and now the sun was low on the horizon, the road darkened by overhanging trees. "Yeah, I'm awake."

"Good. There's a storm ahead. I'm going to try to beat it, but I don't think we'll be that lucky. I don't have an issue with rain if you don't, but if you want we can stop."

Heavy clouds hung in the distance, fast approaching on harsh winds. The smell of rain was thick in the air and lightning flashed across the clouds. By the time they got back to camp it'd be pouring rain for sure, but he was tired. Blood spattered his shirt, his boots were wet, and his back and hands were cramped from hours of surgery in the cold.

"Nah, keep moving. I want to collapse in my own cot."

"Yessir."

A shot rang out of nowhere and the Sergeant swerved. Hawkeye lurched forward with the force of the hit. His shoulder burned like fire and he clutched it with his right hand only to withdraw it and see blood. Not that of another man, but his own, thick and shining in the dimming light. Pain throbbed through the wound but he tried to think clearly. Clinically.

"Should I pull over?" The Sergeant was panicked and yelling, glancing between Hawkeye's shoulder and the road.

"No! That'll just give them an easier target. Keep moving!" Hawk grabbed his medical bag and started treating his own wound, taking his arm out of his sleeve to apply pressure more directly. The bullet had moved through completely and was now lodged in the dash of the jeep. It went through muscle but there was a chance it might have nicked the bone.

An envelope fell from his pocket onto the floor between his feet and his heart jumped into his throat. He reached down to snatch it up, smearing blood across its wrinkled surface. He clutched it to his chest before putting it in his pants pocket.

Irene.

Father Mulcahy brought the letter to him the day after they heard of her death. He would have brought it sooner, but Hawk was too busy drinking himself into oblivion. Hawk didn't have the strength to open it. He'd gotten close a few times, even going so far as breaking the seal on the corner but he'd not been able to make himself get any farther than that.

Once the Sergeant felt they were safe he stopped the jeep and helped Hawkeye bandage the wound. It'd begun to clot, but he'd need the hole cleaned and sutured before he felt he was out of danger. The loss of blood was making him a little dizzy but with the proper pressure on the wound he was satisfied he'd make it without bleeding to death. Thunder echoed through the valley and rain began to fall.

"Thanks, Sergeant. Now get us out of here."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

They turned the last bend and saw the light of camp in the distance. Rain pelted Hawkeye's face and turned the road to mud but the jeep pushed onward. They passed the tunnel under the road where he'd hidden Irene until he could come back for her with Sophie. The river was surging through that pipe now, washing away trees and debris that had been piled up there for months. When would this pass? When would he be able to live day to day without something reminding him of her?

The lights grew closer in the darkness and he could hear people cheering his return before they passed under the 4077th welcome sign. Nurses and doctors met them when the jeep stopped, their hands on him, helping him out but it was one pair of hands in the rain that caught him off guard.

A beautiful woman, brown hair plastered to her face, big brown eyes red from crying, like a ghost. She threw her arms around him and he froze, unable to make a move at first. How was it possible? Surely he'd lost so much blood he was hallucinating but she was pushed by the crowd and slipped, pulling him into the mud with her.

"Irene?" he asked, and she looked up at him from the ground, pulling him close and kissing him before he could say another word.

He didn't question, only clung to her for dear life, returning her kiss with tears streaming down his cheeks, mixing with the rain. The camp cheered and clapped and laughed and cried and helped the pair of them to their feet. For the first time in weeks, Hawkeye smiled. Ear to ear and without a hint of guilt. Pain surged through his shoulder but he couldn't make himself let her go.

"How?" he asked as she helped him to the OR. "They said you were dead."

"There was a mix up in Tokyo. I didn't even know until a few days later when my father came to collect my body but I couldn't get word out to you. I'm so sorry to worry you. I sent a letter once I was strong enough and they still wouldn't' let me make calls."

"It never got here," Hawkeye sat on one of the table in triage while BJ and some nurses cleaned and prepared for surgery. Irene pulled off his wet coat and shirt, doing her part to get him ready. He pushed her wet hair from her face. "How… how are you here? Why weren't you sent home?"

"Well, I told my father about you and what you've done for me. That you saved me. I asked him to let me come here before going back to the states and he agreed to let me." Irene took his hand in hers and kissed his fingertips before pressing them to her cheek. "I missed you."

"I was beside myself. I really thought you were gone for good."

Alice poked her head in, already in mask and scrubs, her eyes puffy from crying but an obviously smile under her mask. "We're ready for him."

"Alright, we're almost done here." Irene helped Hawkeye out of his clothes and onto a litter where she pulled the blanket up to his shoulders. She brushed her fingers through his wet hair. "Are you ready?"

"I don't know. Will you be here when they're done? This isn't just a dream is it?"

She leaned in and kissed him again, her lips soft and warm and wet from rain. When she pulled away he smiled.

"Remember when I said you were a great kisser but it was just a dream? Well, you're a lot better in real life."

"This isn't a dream. I'll see you when they're done stitching up that shoulder."

"Promise?"

"I promise. We have a lot to discuss after they take care of you."

Medics came to carry the litter into OR but Hawk grabbed her hand and the stopped.

"I love you."

She smiled, tears in her eyes. "I love you too. Now go get that wound taken care of."

Reluctantly he let her go and they took him into OR where BJ was absolutely beaming. Relief could be felt in all of them, especially Hawkeye. He could still feel her kiss and he could still see her through the window of OR, watching him as BJ treated his bullet wound. She didn't fade like a ghost or a dream. She was real. She was alive.