Heeheehee! Ok, I think I've tortured you enough now. Congratulations to Annabelle, Lily, and kilikina– your brownie and Super Points are in the mail. Please allow six to eight months..hehe, I mean weeks..for delivery. And broncobabe and Holula, I never even thought of Henry, good idea. Ok. Time for an explanation for this chapter. Henry goes. Trapper stays. Potter comes. Ok? Please keep in mind this chapter is all Trapper's POV

Our Story

Chapter 5: Regret

"Pierce? McIntyre? Oh my God!"

Those words would echo in my mind for years. I couldn't believe it. We got caught – again!

Margaret stood over us, blue eyes filled with shock and confusion – but to my surprise, not disgust. Luckily for us, Margaret was on the outs with Frank at the time, and was more tolerant of us. Hawkeye, who was frozen with shock, suddenly jumped up. "Margaret, it's not what it looks like," he began. Then he paused. "What the hell am I saying, of course it's what it looks like." He paced back and forth. Margaret sat on a crate. She was taking this a lot better than I expected.

"Well," she said shakily. "I guess this explains why you've left my nurses alone for the last little while." I grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, this would be the reason. Look, Margaret, you cannot tell Frank what you saw here." She arched an eyebrow. "Me? Tell that slimy, lipless eel anything? You've got to be kidding me." She smiled. "Don't worry. I know I've been rotten to you guys before - "

"And we've been rotten too," Hawkeye interrupted. " – but that is over now," she continued. "I'm calling a truce." She stuck out her hand, a smile on her face. I reached out and shook it, Hawk clasping both our hands in his. "Truce," he agreed.

"ATTENTION ALL PERSONNELL, INCOMING CHOPPERS, AND I DON'T THINK IT'S PRESENTS FROM GENERAL CLAYTON!" The three of us sighed. "Alrighty, let's get a move on," Hawk pressed, moving towards the door. We exited into the dreary grayness of a Korean rainy day.

"Clamp."

"Clamp."

"Retract that bit there, atta girl. Ok, now gimme some suction, right in there."

"Suction."

"3 0 silk. Ow, that's my finger, you caught it in the clamp!" Hawk's voice rose to a shout and he pulled his hand from his patient, grimacing as he inspected his now purple finger. "I'm sorry, Captain," Margaret apologized. "No, not your fault," Hawkeye answered around the injured finger he was now sucking on. Radar entered. "Didja hurt yourself, Hawkeye?" he asked softly. Hawk rolled his eyes. "No, my eyes normally bug out of their sockets like this." Radar frowned, turning to Henry. "Guess what came in the mail today, sir?" he asked, voice filled with excitement. Henry scrunched up his eyebrows. "Oh gee, that's a tough one. Hum a few bars, Radar."

The young clerk shook his head. "No sir, it's your discharge." Henry looked up, his attention caught. "My discharge?" he asked, dumbstruck. Radar nodded. "Yup. You're going home, sir." Henry blinked. "Home. I'm going home. I'm going home!"

"That's terrific, Henry," I called. "Wonderful," Margaret exclaimed. "That's great, Henry," Hawk enthused, with his finger still stuck in his mouth. He elbowed Frank, who was standing nearby. "Don't you have something you'd like to say to the Colonel?" he urged. Frank frowned. "It's about time I was put in charge," he huffed, stomping out of the room.

Despite Frank's sourness, we gave Henry a real good party, and a super sendoff. As we bid our commander goodbye, more choppers came in, drowning us again in the blood of innocent children. We carted Henry, who wanted to stay and help, onto his own chopper, before starting our work.

The next day, during yet another OR session, Radar slowly entered the room, unmasked, shaking, and white as a sheet. "Radar, put a mask on!" I ordered. "If that's my discharge, give it to me straight. I can take it," Hawk quipped.

"I have a message."

Those words became the words that instantaneously struck fear in my heart. I heard them twice in my lifetime, and both times, they brought bad news. But more about the second time later.

"Lieutenant Colonel..Henry Blake's plane.." He paused, take in a long, shuddering breath, the only sound heard in the now – silent room. "Was shot down, over the Sea of Japan. It spun in..there were no survivors." His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and he walked out again, looking much older than his tender 19 years. Hawkeye and I exchanged a look, while Margaret's eyes pooled with tears. The silence was mercifully broken as an instrument clattered to the ground. Coming alive again, Hawkeye was the first to speak. "Retractor." We continued our work, the only thing that was assured in this hellhole.

Hawkeye, Margaret and I trudged out of the OR, still dressed in our bloodied scrubs. Walking into Radar's office, we found him sitting on his bunk, staring unblinkingly, straight ahead. Hawk reached out, tentatively, to touch his shoulder. He gazed up at Hawk – and his eyes looked dead. Margaret gasped sharply at my side, while Hawkeye recoiled slightly. Without warning, he stood up and walked out.

"I'm gonna follow him – he's in no state to be alone," Hawkeye commented, pushing the door open. He paused, looking back at Margaret and I, still in a state of shock at the young man's lifeless expression. "Coming?" he asked. We nodded, following him out in to the compound.

Hawkeye sighed as he dropped onto his bunk. Radar had gotten hysterical, so Hawk had sedated him. He was now sleeping peacefully, under watch. He scrubbed his hands over his stubble – darkened cheeks. "God, what a day," he said, voice hollow. I nodded. "Who would have thought Henry would be the first to go?" I said to the dingy olive ceiling. "That's not what worries me," Hawk said, staring at me. "It's who's next." He grabbed me, suddenly, pushing up the sleeve of my shirt. I winced, knowing what his reaction would be, when he saw the long, pale scars lining my wrists.

"God dammit Trapper!" he shouted. "What the fuck are you doing? You told me you stopped!" I jerked my arm out of his grasp. "I did, asshole. Those are old." He stared at me. "Yeah right." Suddenly, he dropped to his knees in front of me. "Don't you get it? You are going to die. I'm not exactly leaping for joy at that prospect. Please, stop. For my sake," he pleaded. I stared down, into those tragic blue eyes – and something snapped. I stood up abruptly. "Stop trying to run my life, dammit. What the hell do you care if I die. You'll just go find someone else to fool around with." I really didn't believe any of that, I was just angry – about Henry, about the war, about everything. "Stay the fuck out of my life." I stormed out of the tent.

***TBC***

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