Chapter 3
Hearing and feeling came back to me, slowly, painfully. I heard the general noise around the hospital that I had become so used to. Still no sight or voice.
I heard footsteps and someone sat down on the seat next to me. They took my hand and spoke. "BJ," Hawkeye's voice began. It didn't sound a lot like him. It sounded too tense.
I squeezed his hand a bit, to let him know I could hear.
"Are you okay there? Want to know what happened?"
I squeezed his hand twice.
"Well, okay. During that fit, you lost consciousness, and you stopped breathing."
I tensed, and my hand clenched tighter around Hawkeye's. I felt so much like crying, but I wasn't sure if any tears would come. When would it end? Would it ever end? I put my hands over my eyes as a habit. I had no sight to block anything from
"You're going to be fine," Hawkeye told me, taking back my hand. "Just hold, Beej, and you'll get through this."
I'd heard it all before, over the past five days or however long I'd been ill, and was I better? No, I wasn't. If anything, I was getting worse. I couldn't go on, I just couldn't.
That settled it. Through the delirium, I had a plan. A couple of days before the trip, I remembered Frank talking to Hawkeye and me about a gun he had recently requisitioned from someone. I had seen it, and it looked like a fairly small weapon, but still lethal. I remember Frank saying he would wear it all the time except when he was operating and asleep. When he was operating it would be kept under lock and key, and when he was asleep it would be at the end of his cot.
Either I was going to die slowly or painfully, or it could all be over in a few short moments. Of course, the second option was more inviting. My plan was that I would wait until nightfall and then head over to the Swamp to get the gun and then the rest would be history. There were numerous flaws in my plan, such as someone would see me, and then of course there was the little problem of me not being able to see or talk, but I was so determined that I would do anything.
It was easy enough to tell when nightfall was. That was when there was no noise to be heard around the camp, and when Colonel Potter took Hawkeye away from beside me and told him to get some sleep.
Although Hawkeye left, Colonel Potter didn't. He took the chair that Hawkeye had once sat in, and he started to talk to me. "You may think that you're face is pretty useless right now, since you can't see and you can't talk. That's not altogether true, though. You don't know it, but your face is like a book, in that we can read it. Not everyone, though, just those who know you. I can, and so can Hawkeye. Know what we can see? You look ready to surrender, like you've given up. Don't start waving the white flag yet, BJ. You'll be back on the horse in no time."
Though it was nice to see that someone cared, I was well past the stage of both listening to reason, and past the stage of seeing anything positive. I wanted out, and once Colonel Potter left I was about to get it.
One slight problem was the duty nurse, but I knew that luck was on my side when I heard light snoring drifting. It couldn't have been one of the patients, because they never seemed to be healthy enough to snore.
I had an IV attached to me, but I ripped it out of my arm. If I was going to die then I wasn't going to let a bleeding arm pull me down. I sat up my bed, swung my feet over the side of the bed and let my feet touch the floor.
I had to take a minute to adapt to a standing position after spending five days lying down in my bed. I then realised that I had no idea what part of the ward I was in. I decided to take a left, and work my way along the room by grabbing the end of each bed as I did. Three beds later I found the door, and stuck my arm outside. There was a breeze, telling me that this was the outside. I now knew where I was.
I took the directions to the Swamp. Along the way I encountered Klinger. "Password?" he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders, and he neared and realised who I was. "Captain Hunnicutt, should you be out of bed?"
I gave him a thumbs-up sign, and he told me to proceed. I hated lying to anyone, especially Klinger, who was obviously concerned about my health, but I had an aim in mind. My last aim, I suppose.
I found a tent. I opened the door slowly, and felt around the other side of it. When I felt the dartboard on it, I knew I was in the right tent.
I quietly shut the door, and felt around at the end of Frank's bed for the gun. Sure enough, I found it in the holster. I managed to drop it on the floor, cursing in my head.
"What?" Came Hawkeye's half-awake voice. He must have seen me in front of him. "Beej? What are you doing here? Better yet, what are you doing out of bed?" I heard the bed creak as he shifted, probably into a sitting position. He must have seen the gun that I was fumbling around on the floor for. I found it, and put it into my hand.
"My God," Hawkeye gasped. I heard furious creaking on the bed as I put the gun to my temple. I wish I could have said goodbye, but I had no voice. I squeezed the trigger and a shot rang out into the still night silence.
A/N: How's it going? This chapter came to me in a dream last night and I couldn't get it down quick enough. It will be continued. :)
Hearing and feeling came back to me, slowly, painfully. I heard the general noise around the hospital that I had become so used to. Still no sight or voice.
I heard footsteps and someone sat down on the seat next to me. They took my hand and spoke. "BJ," Hawkeye's voice began. It didn't sound a lot like him. It sounded too tense.
I squeezed his hand a bit, to let him know I could hear.
"Are you okay there? Want to know what happened?"
I squeezed his hand twice.
"Well, okay. During that fit, you lost consciousness, and you stopped breathing."
I tensed, and my hand clenched tighter around Hawkeye's. I felt so much like crying, but I wasn't sure if any tears would come. When would it end? Would it ever end? I put my hands over my eyes as a habit. I had no sight to block anything from
"You're going to be fine," Hawkeye told me, taking back my hand. "Just hold, Beej, and you'll get through this."
I'd heard it all before, over the past five days or however long I'd been ill, and was I better? No, I wasn't. If anything, I was getting worse. I couldn't go on, I just couldn't.
That settled it. Through the delirium, I had a plan. A couple of days before the trip, I remembered Frank talking to Hawkeye and me about a gun he had recently requisitioned from someone. I had seen it, and it looked like a fairly small weapon, but still lethal. I remember Frank saying he would wear it all the time except when he was operating and asleep. When he was operating it would be kept under lock and key, and when he was asleep it would be at the end of his cot.
Either I was going to die slowly or painfully, or it could all be over in a few short moments. Of course, the second option was more inviting. My plan was that I would wait until nightfall and then head over to the Swamp to get the gun and then the rest would be history. There were numerous flaws in my plan, such as someone would see me, and then of course there was the little problem of me not being able to see or talk, but I was so determined that I would do anything.
It was easy enough to tell when nightfall was. That was when there was no noise to be heard around the camp, and when Colonel Potter took Hawkeye away from beside me and told him to get some sleep.
Although Hawkeye left, Colonel Potter didn't. He took the chair that Hawkeye had once sat in, and he started to talk to me. "You may think that you're face is pretty useless right now, since you can't see and you can't talk. That's not altogether true, though. You don't know it, but your face is like a book, in that we can read it. Not everyone, though, just those who know you. I can, and so can Hawkeye. Know what we can see? You look ready to surrender, like you've given up. Don't start waving the white flag yet, BJ. You'll be back on the horse in no time."
Though it was nice to see that someone cared, I was well past the stage of both listening to reason, and past the stage of seeing anything positive. I wanted out, and once Colonel Potter left I was about to get it.
One slight problem was the duty nurse, but I knew that luck was on my side when I heard light snoring drifting. It couldn't have been one of the patients, because they never seemed to be healthy enough to snore.
I had an IV attached to me, but I ripped it out of my arm. If I was going to die then I wasn't going to let a bleeding arm pull me down. I sat up my bed, swung my feet over the side of the bed and let my feet touch the floor.
I had to take a minute to adapt to a standing position after spending five days lying down in my bed. I then realised that I had no idea what part of the ward I was in. I decided to take a left, and work my way along the room by grabbing the end of each bed as I did. Three beds later I found the door, and stuck my arm outside. There was a breeze, telling me that this was the outside. I now knew where I was.
I took the directions to the Swamp. Along the way I encountered Klinger. "Password?" he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders, and he neared and realised who I was. "Captain Hunnicutt, should you be out of bed?"
I gave him a thumbs-up sign, and he told me to proceed. I hated lying to anyone, especially Klinger, who was obviously concerned about my health, but I had an aim in mind. My last aim, I suppose.
I found a tent. I opened the door slowly, and felt around the other side of it. When I felt the dartboard on it, I knew I was in the right tent.
I quietly shut the door, and felt around at the end of Frank's bed for the gun. Sure enough, I found it in the holster. I managed to drop it on the floor, cursing in my head.
"What?" Came Hawkeye's half-awake voice. He must have seen me in front of him. "Beej? What are you doing here? Better yet, what are you doing out of bed?" I heard the bed creak as he shifted, probably into a sitting position. He must have seen the gun that I was fumbling around on the floor for. I found it, and put it into my hand.
"My God," Hawkeye gasped. I heard furious creaking on the bed as I put the gun to my temple. I wish I could have said goodbye, but I had no voice. I squeezed the trigger and a shot rang out into the still night silence.
A/N: How's it going? This chapter came to me in a dream last night and I couldn't get it down quick enough. It will be continued. :)