Radar awoke in acute pain. He arced his back again and again into the padding of the post-op ward bed, trying to get comfortable, but the cold nail-chalkboard feeling was clinging to him like seaweed, and wouldn't let him go. Since he'd been admitted to the hospital, he knew, though he could not remember distinctly, he'd been probed and poked and prodded with all sorts of instruments. He could hardly lift his left arm. He got the impression that there had been a needle in it. The pain still lingered.

"You!" he spat out shudderingly across the room to the first person he laid his eyes on, namely B.J. Hunnicutt.

"Radar! You're speaking to us again! Err--" recalling the Father's instructions, "You're awake."

"You stole my glasses!" Radar accused, "Give 'em back! And go get Qot-- my bear while you're at it, will ya? My mom give 'im to me in case I got sick over here, he makes me feel better."

"I didn't--" B.J. tried to cut in, but was lost in the weak ranting of the company clerk, which he didn't have the heart to try to interrupt further. "I'll go get them," he mumbled comfortingly, noting the way Radar was clutching his left arm.

In the dusky, darkening light of day he made a quick stop past the swamp, "Sid? He's coherent again. Could you try talking to him now?"

"That's what I'm here for." Freedman smiled, and stood up.

"Hey, remember-- no jokes."

"Right. Fairies. Drink your soul out through your smile."

B.J. looked around. "Where's Hawkeye?"

"I think he went to grab a shower."

"I'll stop by and tell him that he should go see Radar, too, while I'm at it."

"Give you an excuse to see if he's grape-flavored yet."

B.J. chuckled. "Right." He knocked on the wooden cornerpost of the tent, and meandered off to Radar's office by way of the showers.

"Hello? Yeah, sorry it took me so long to pick up, I'm not quite sure how to work this contraption." Klinger was saying awkwardly into the telephone as B.J. walked in. "Say! You must be Sparky. No, Radar's not here right now, he had a bit of a --" He looked up as B.J. entered. "Can I help you, Captain?"

"No, I'm fine," B.J. picked up the glasses and the bear. "Just came to pick up a few things for our ailing patient." He smiled.

Klinger nodded. "Yeah, I'm here, Sparky. Have I seen WHO?" Klinger was saying as B.J. headed back out the door.

Radar at least seemed to be opening up to the psychologist when B.J. returned to the post-op. As he returned, B.J. caught something about Radar's best friend's dog having to be put down when he was small, and how he's hated getting shots ever since then. Sidney sat patiently, stolidly, minding himself not to crack a joke. Radar's eyes shot up to the approaching doctor, and his trembling right hand lifted up to grab his things. His left arm lay pinned at his side.

"Oh!" he cried, "Qot! Ban! I never thought I'd see you guys again, ever!" he slipped the glasses onto his face with a little bit of difficulty, and held the bear up close to his chest, its head tucked under his chin. "I was so scared, I think I had a heart attack, even."

Sid stood up from the stool on which he'd been sitting.

"Oh--" Radar murmured, "I'm sorry, Major, I didn't mean to stop talking to you."

"It's not a problem, Radar. There are some great therapists I'll never be able to live up to." He gave the bear a little affectionate tousle on the head and turned, tugging B.J. along with him.

~