"Scalpel, Doctor."
Hawkeye exhaled deep through his nose, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. His eyes were watery, bloodshot; tired eyes of a surgeon who'd been standing in the OR for over twelve hours without rest, taking legs and arms, and sewing torn torsos back together. He had had enough.
Major Houlihan stepped closer to him, her shoulder brushing his. It was a simple gesture and he was grateful for it, for the brief closeness and the heat coming off of her, giving him a feeling he was not so alone in the face of his difficult task.
He considered thanking her but thought better of it. How come he felt so alone today?
"Thanks, Major." Well, so much for not thanking her.
"It's okay, Doctor."
He'd always been fascinated by her. She was the strongest woman he'd ever met. Stronger than most men he'd seen, in fact. Radar was the one who made MASH function on the official side, but she was the one who held the moral of the people high.
He asked for Metzenbaum scissors.
"Metz, Doctor."
The kid's heart was still beating slowly and time was ticking away.
"Dammit, I might as well be operating blindfolded," he muttered. "I can't see a thing with all this blood in there. Suction."
The Colonel looked up from his table.
"Pierce, everything alright?" he asked. He seemed worried. Probably because he knew how hard Hawkeye took death. He'd become a doctor to fight it. And still it was not enough.
"I'm fine!"
BJ glanced at the Colonel and they both sighed.
Frank seemed pleased, though. "What, Pierce is having problems over there?" His ferret eyes skipped from BJ to Hawkeye and back again. He snickered. "I'd love to help him, Colonel. But I'm in the middle of a very difficult operation."
"Shut up, Frank!" Margaret snapped. "No one's in the mood for your babbling."
Hawkeye glanced up at her. He gave her an amused look.
"Babbling?" Frank started chewing on his lips. "What's eating you, Major? Lieutenant Colonel Donald Penobscott stopped writing?" He threw away a bloody tampon and paused. His eyes lit up when his own joke reached his brain and he started laughing. "Get it?" he said. "Stopped. Writing. Hahahaha!"
"Shut up, Frank," everyone said in unison and he shut his mouth, looking hurt.
Hawkeye seemed lost in his own world, though. Margaret patted his forehead with the cloth. She was so close he could smell the posh perfume she'd bought in Tokyo.
"Ooh, Margaret… Clamp… What is that smell?"
"What?" she asked, confused.
He loved it when she was unsure of herself.
"That perfume. If you stand any closer it might knock me out."
She stepped back, fuming.
Hawkeye chuckled, bending over the patient again.
"Well," she said, aggravated, "my—"
Hawk furrowed his brows, checking the clock. "Okay, needle."
She quickly handed him the needle. "—my perfume is lots better than the cheap soap you are using, Captain."
He looked sideways at her, impressed she began where she'd left off. Professional in every way.
Margaret caught his look and he could've sworn she was blushing underneath the mask.
"Relax, Major," he said, smiling, running the needle through the kid's heart muscle. "I'm loving it. How about we meet up after this operation under a jeep- and mix and match your perfume and my soap."
"In your dreams, Captain."
He waggled his brows. "Every night."
She shook her head, absolutely disgusted.
A moment passed, the clock ticking away in Hawkeye's head.
"How's he doing?" he asked nurse Able.
"Stable, Doctor."
"Good. I'm almost there." The cut open heart was still slowly beating and he quickly finished sewing up the hole in its muscle wall.
"Time, Margaret?"
"Two more minutes."
"Okay," he said, inhaling deep, "I'm ready to close."
Everyone in the OR looked up, grinning with relief. Except for Frank.
"I knew it!" BJ called out. "I knew he could do it!"
The Colonel was nodding, knowingly.
"God dammit, I knew it!" BJ started laughing. "I knew he was the best!"
Hawkeye covered his chest with his hands. "Ooh, don't look at me like that, Beej! I'm not undressing for you in the showers again!"
BJ was still laughing. "Oh, shut up, you Yack."
The nurses started clapping. Frank started whining.
Hawkeye grinned. "The world's greatest surgeon has a free night tonight, and tomorrow, and the night after that. Anyone of you lovely ladies want to spend it with him?" He was visibly relaxed now. And everyone knew he deserved it. "The Swamp, cockroaches, my amazing lips on your neck and the hazy moon through the hole in the roof…?"
The women moaned and playfully threw what they had at hand at him.
He ducked the cloths, laughing. "I promise not to break your heart!"
Margaret rolled her eyes and the nurses blurted out, "oh, shut up, Hawkeye!" when his joke clicked.
The boy had been immersed in a bath of warm water to bring the body temperature back to normal. The operation had been a success.
Hawkeye staggered out of the OR into the prickly heat of day.
"Tired?"
BJ blinked against the Sun and shot Hawkeye a big pearl-white grin.
Hawk groaned and rested his back against the shabby building. "I feel like an ad for dead." His hand went to his forehead and he rubbed his eyes with his palms. "What day is it?"
"No idea."
"That's comforting, Beej."
"You heading for the showers?"
"If I don't pass out on the way there."
BJ started laughing. "Now, c'mon, Hawk. You're fine."
Hawkeye raised a tired brow. "Fine as in fine? Or as in fine fine?" He yawned. "If you don't answer me I might fine you."
BJ smirked. "Margaret said you were great."
"Did she?"
They started for the Swamp. Hawkie kicked a stone on his way.
BJ continued, "Potter said he thinks you deserve a medal for something like that."
"What do you think?"
"I think you need that shower."
"Very funny."
BJ pulled the door to the Swamp open and let Hawkeye in. Hawkeye took one step then collapsed the rest of the way to the bunk.
"Aaaahhh, in bed at last," he murmured into the pillow.
BJ grinned and sat down. "And too lazy to walk?"
Hawkeye opened his mouth to snap a witty comment back at him but he was cut off by an announcement that made BJ grin even bigger.
"Attention, all weary personnel of the 4077th. Colonel Potter wishes to express his thanks for our efforts during the last two days. All requests for overtime are denied as always but at least tonight's broken film seems promising."
"That's not promising," Hawkeye grunted, watching Beej pick up his socks and needle. "You know what's promising?"
"Naw, what?" BJ smelled his socks, then made a stitch.
"Promising is a night with a nurse in the supply tent. That's promising." Hawkeye threw the pillow at BJ. "Now would you pleeease put those socks away? The odor is… striking."
"I like them."
"Yes, you like them." Hawkeye sat up to untie his shoelaces. "That's the problem, Beej. You like them. And never wash them."
"Peg send them over."
"So…?"
"For me to wear, Hawk."
Hawkeye took off one boot then gave BJ a look. "If those socks don't leave the Swamp in five seconds," he said, leaning forward, pointing at them, "I promise I'll write to Peg and tell her what kind of a pig she married."
"Oh, you wouldn't."
"I would."
"You wouldn't."
Hawkeye gave him a cheesy grin. "Oh, yes I wooould," he chirped, kicking his comically long legs up onto the bunk and resting his back against the sheet, hands going behind his head.
"Hawkeye!"
"Try me!" Hawk abruptly sat up again and grabbed himself a pen and piece of paper off of the table. "Dear… Pe-ggy," he scribbled, "I'm… wri-ting… to… tell you… that—"
BJ snorted and tore the paper out of Hawk's hands. "Ok, ok! I'll wash them. There. You happy?"
"Yes." Hawk's singsong voice echoed through the tent. "Yes, yes, yes."
"I hate you."
"I love you, too."
BJ rolled his eyes then glanced at the paper Hawk had been writing on- and then he started laughing. "Oh God," he managed to choke out. "Oh God!" His shoulders were shaking so much it looked like they were going to fall off of his body. He sunk down onto his bunk laughing so much he had tears in his eyes.
Hawkeye watched him like he'd just gone crazy. "What?"
"Oh, Ha-awkk…" BJ gasped for breath and when he found he couldn't take more air into his lungs he started laughing harder. His back sunk into the mattress, his stomach muscles flinching under his shirt. "He-he-here," he wheezed, waving the paper in front of Hawk's face. "Whoa…"
Hawkeye narrowed his eyes, stood up and snatched the note out of BJ's hands.
"You wanted to…" BJ began, "…you wanted to write to Peg on… on… that!" he sputtered out.
Hawkeye turned the piece of paper in his hands and saw he'd scribbled the letter to Peg down on his shopping list—
--for last year's issues of Applied Nudism.
He snorted. "So…?"
BJ couldn't stop choking. "Ohh…" he pointed at Hawkeye and burst out laughing again. "Ohh boy… oh boy…"
Hawkeye shook his head, then scrunched the note up in his fist and threw it against the door.
Just then Margaret burst through. She didn't even notice the paper ball hitting her square in the face. She was pale as chalk and absolutely out of breath. Hawk immediately knew something was wrong.
"Hawkeye…" she said. And he knew what had happened, her words only confirming it. "The kid's in shock."
* * * * *
