Disclaimer: Of course I own them. That's why I'm sitting here. Writing
fanfictions. While the TV still shows repeats. And there's no 24 hour
channel. Yup, I own 'em alright.
Hooray, people reviewed my craptastic story. *'s indicate flashbacks, as I haven't yet figured out how to get the stupid italics to show up. This chapter is gonna be all Hawkeye's POV - though I feel I write better as Trapper - and the next one will be Trapper. There is no end to this story in sight, I just keep writing, and writing, and writing. I will be posting faster now - I just finished one exam, not half an hour ago, and I have one more to do. I will then be free of school, and be home, with little to do but type. And daydream. La la la.***WARNING***This chapter contains coarse language, suicidal tendencies, and m/m situations. Don't b*tch to me if you don't like it, cause YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
Our Story Chapter 4: Foresight
I should have known. He was cutting again. He'd done it before, about a month after we'd arrived in this 24 hour hellhole. His wife and two daughters had their birthdays, all in the same month, and he couldn't be there for any of them. He had been devastated, and fell into depression. His work in OR grew sloppy, and one day, he carelessly let a scalpel slip. He had inadvertently slit his wrist, and left to fix it. Later that week, I found him, alone in the Swamp, unconscious, with a bloodstained pocketknife next to him. I cleaned him up, helped him out of his rut. It was then that I started to realize my feelings for the curly haired surgeon. And he was doing it again. I knew it was just a matter of time before he made it final.
*He's sitting on a bunk, head in his hands. Hawkeye storms over, grabbing a wrist, and revealing the criss cross pattern of scars, some healed, some not. "What the hell are you doing, you ass?" Hawkeye demands, staring in amazement. "Leave me alone," he replies, jerking his arm out of Hawkeye's grasp.*
I settled into my bunk, replaying this memory over and over, until I fell asleep - a sleep plagued with dreams.
The next morning, I found Trapper in the shower. Now, do you know how hard it is to talk seriously with someone when they're standing in front of you completely naked, tantalizing water droplets clinging to their skin. I shook all the interestingly fetishlike ideas from my mind, and concentrated.
"Trapper, I gotta ask you something, and you have to tell me the truth. Are you cutting?" He smiled softly, placing his hands on my arms. "I give you my word," he said softly, tracing my jaw line. "I..am..not..cutting. I'm fine. Thanks for caring so much." With that, he threw on his robe, leaving me with a very suspicious feeling. "Dammit!" I swore. "How the hell can I be serious when he's so damn sexy?"
I found him in Post - Op. "Are you on duty?" I demanded brusquely. He shook his head, clearly confused. I grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the Supply Tent, acting as inconspicuous as possible. As I yanked him inside, slamming the door, he arched his eyebrows in amusement. "Frisky, aren't we?" I pushed him against the wall. "Don't talk. You're wasting energy." As I continued my ministrations, there was no time left for coherence - for either of us.
Quite some time later, as you can well imagine, we lay on the floor, cuddled together. "What was that about?" he inquired, leaning on one elbow to look me in the eyes. I shrugged. "That conversation in the showers. You looked so good, I only had one thing on my mind. Which isn't a rare occurrence." He laughed, relishing the power he held over me. "Well now, the famous Dr. Pierce can't hold in his desire for Dr. McIntyre. I guess we established who's the dominant one in this relationship." I growled. "You want dominant?" I tangled my fingers through his curls, forcing his lips to mine.
Then, disaster struck. The bright light from outside, footsteps, and a voice. "Pierce? McIntyre? Oh my God!"
***TBC***
Bwahahahaha! I am so evil! I know this chapter is short, but I JUST posted, and I really wanted you put you guys on edge..haha..now you have to wait to find out who it is. 10 Super Points and a brownie to the first 3 people to guess correctly! Please note, Super Points are not redeemable for cash. They are a figment of the author's twisted imagination, and cannot be used anywhere. Talk about your white elephants.
Hooray, people reviewed my craptastic story. *'s indicate flashbacks, as I haven't yet figured out how to get the stupid italics to show up. This chapter is gonna be all Hawkeye's POV - though I feel I write better as Trapper - and the next one will be Trapper. There is no end to this story in sight, I just keep writing, and writing, and writing. I will be posting faster now - I just finished one exam, not half an hour ago, and I have one more to do. I will then be free of school, and be home, with little to do but type. And daydream. La la la.***WARNING***This chapter contains coarse language, suicidal tendencies, and m/m situations. Don't b*tch to me if you don't like it, cause YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
Our Story Chapter 4: Foresight
I should have known. He was cutting again. He'd done it before, about a month after we'd arrived in this 24 hour hellhole. His wife and two daughters had their birthdays, all in the same month, and he couldn't be there for any of them. He had been devastated, and fell into depression. His work in OR grew sloppy, and one day, he carelessly let a scalpel slip. He had inadvertently slit his wrist, and left to fix it. Later that week, I found him, alone in the Swamp, unconscious, with a bloodstained pocketknife next to him. I cleaned him up, helped him out of his rut. It was then that I started to realize my feelings for the curly haired surgeon. And he was doing it again. I knew it was just a matter of time before he made it final.
*He's sitting on a bunk, head in his hands. Hawkeye storms over, grabbing a wrist, and revealing the criss cross pattern of scars, some healed, some not. "What the hell are you doing, you ass?" Hawkeye demands, staring in amazement. "Leave me alone," he replies, jerking his arm out of Hawkeye's grasp.*
I settled into my bunk, replaying this memory over and over, until I fell asleep - a sleep plagued with dreams.
The next morning, I found Trapper in the shower. Now, do you know how hard it is to talk seriously with someone when they're standing in front of you completely naked, tantalizing water droplets clinging to their skin. I shook all the interestingly fetishlike ideas from my mind, and concentrated.
"Trapper, I gotta ask you something, and you have to tell me the truth. Are you cutting?" He smiled softly, placing his hands on my arms. "I give you my word," he said softly, tracing my jaw line. "I..am..not..cutting. I'm fine. Thanks for caring so much." With that, he threw on his robe, leaving me with a very suspicious feeling. "Dammit!" I swore. "How the hell can I be serious when he's so damn sexy?"
I found him in Post - Op. "Are you on duty?" I demanded brusquely. He shook his head, clearly confused. I grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the Supply Tent, acting as inconspicuous as possible. As I yanked him inside, slamming the door, he arched his eyebrows in amusement. "Frisky, aren't we?" I pushed him against the wall. "Don't talk. You're wasting energy." As I continued my ministrations, there was no time left for coherence - for either of us.
Quite some time later, as you can well imagine, we lay on the floor, cuddled together. "What was that about?" he inquired, leaning on one elbow to look me in the eyes. I shrugged. "That conversation in the showers. You looked so good, I only had one thing on my mind. Which isn't a rare occurrence." He laughed, relishing the power he held over me. "Well now, the famous Dr. Pierce can't hold in his desire for Dr. McIntyre. I guess we established who's the dominant one in this relationship." I growled. "You want dominant?" I tangled my fingers through his curls, forcing his lips to mine.
Then, disaster struck. The bright light from outside, footsteps, and a voice. "Pierce? McIntyre? Oh my God!"
***TBC***
Bwahahahaha! I am so evil! I know this chapter is short, but I JUST posted, and I really wanted you put you guys on edge..haha..now you have to wait to find out who it is. 10 Super Points and a brownie to the first 3 people to guess correctly! Please note, Super Points are not redeemable for cash. They are a figment of the author's twisted imagination, and cannot be used anywhere. Talk about your white elephants.