This came to me for no reason really. Actually I was listening to Konstantine
by Something Corporate. My mind works in weird ways. I'm not sure how
the two (the fic and the song, not my mind) are related. But the line "the
present is just a pleasant interruption for the past" seems to suit it. Or part
of it. Or something. Maybe that should be the title.
There's BJ/ Hawkeye, Trapper/Hawkeye and a bit Hawkeye/Frank and
BJ/Frank. I don't know where it came from. I really don't. I'm not sure if it's
any good. But feedback would be great. Also, crappy title, but what ya
gonna do? :) If anyone can give me a better title, feel free to do so. Also,
feel free to tell me it's crap, if you think it is. It's also longer than what I've
done before. And, apparently, I don't own them. Any of them. I don't know
why not. Anyway, read.

"Nicknames"

I hate him. I hate him so much I wish he was dead. Or even better, I wish
he'd never been alive. I'm so jealous of him, I'm surprised I'm not as green
as everything else here. I'm jealous of someone I've never met. Someone
who doesn't know I exist.
Someone who's name I don't even know. Well, I know his nickname.
Trapper. I know the story how he got it. Hawkeye told me. He also told me
Trapper's real name but I wasn't listening. I don't want to know his real name. I don't want to know anyone's real name.
Not here.

Calling Hawkeye Ben doesn't work. I tried it once. He just laughed and
asked why. I said I wanted to hear what it sounded like to say it.

His name can't be real either. I'd hate him even more then. He's less real if I
only know his nickname.

Nicknames are a wonderful thing, if you think about it. Your given name is
given to you by someone else. Before you're really you. Most parents decide
on their childeren's names before they're even born. They heard it
somewhere and thought it was nice. Sometimes they're lucky and it works.
It suits the child. And sometimes it still works when the childs grown up. But
mostly it doesn't. I guess Frank's lucky in that way. All though, Ferret Face
suits him better. But, I don't think he likes it.

Back when Hawkeye was still Ben he never would've dreamed of being
called Hawkeye. He wouldn't have turned around if someone called him that.
But then he got that book, or his father did, or something and it suddenly
made sense. He wasn't Ben, he was Hawkeye. He always had been.
He just didn't know it.

I don't have a nickname. Or maybe my name is one. It's just two lettres.
Maybe my parents gave me that because they knew a real name wouldn't
work on me. A real name doesn't work on anyone, not forever. Sometimes
the last name is the perfect first name. The perfect nickname.
I'd never dream of calling Klinger Max or Maxwell. It wouldn't work. It'd be
weird. Strange. Klinger is Klinger. He's only Max for his mother. Who gave
him that name. Same with Radar. It wouldn't work to call him by his given
name. Just like it wouldn't work for me to think of Trapper as whatever his
given name is.

Here I am, lying on my bunk. It used to be his bunk. I can still sense him. I
can feel I wasn't the first here. There's still bits and pieces that were left
behind. Things that weren't important enough for him to take back. A pen
that doesn't write anymore. Or a glass he used. I'm using that one now.
Hawkeye has the pen. It just sits there, unused. But he won't get rid of it.
I wish I could get rid of everything he ever touched. Redecorate the place.
Make it Trapperfree. Make it so that no one here remembers who Trapper
was. Make them think it was always me who was here. But, I can't.
Whatever I do, there's always something. He hardly ever mentions him now.
I think he knows it hurts me. He knows how I feel about him. He knows
how much I hate him. How jealous I am of him. But we never talk about it.

At night, when I'm awake and he's asleep in his own bunk or in mine when
we're sure Frank's away, I know he dreams about him. About Trapper.
Sometimes he says his name in his sleep. He mumbles some other things
aswell but I don't understand those. I don't want to understand. I want him
to say my name. I don't want him to dream about the past. I want him
to dream about the present. About me. I dream about him. But I also
dream of Trapper. I hate that. He's even invaded my dreams. My
nightmares.

He's back home with his wife and kids, probably not even thinking about
here. He couldn't even be bothered to leave a note saying goodbye. If I
would've been him I would've left a note. I would've stayed another day.
What's one day in an entire lifetime? Trapper hurt Hawkeye by leaving like
that. That's why he hurt me too. That's why I hate him. That's why I wish
he didn't exist. I hope I never meet him.

~~~~~~== ~~~~~

I've been home for about 4 months. Maybe longer. It seems like a lifetime
ago I was in Korea. It is a lifetime ago. I tried to write a note. I did.
But I didn't know what to say. What do you say at a time like that? I
wanted to write him a lettre from here, to apologise for leaving like that.
But, I'm not sorry I'm gone. I didn't enjoy being in the middle of a war. No
one does.

I did enjoy being with Hawkeye.

I still haven't written him. I don't think I ever will. He hasn't written me
either. I wonder if he's knows I'm still alive. I wonder if he's still alive.
Something might've happened. One second you're there and the next
you're gone. Especially in places like that.
They must've got a replacement for me. Some other doctor, maybe regular
army, maybe drafted like I was. Like Hawkeye was.

I wonder if he thinks about me, the new one.
He probably hates me. He had to leave his family so I could go back to
mine. I'm sorry about that. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Not even my
worst enemy.

I left bits and pieces there. Things for Hawkeye to remember me by.
Useless things, really. An empty pen. I didn't leave him a note. I did write
him. Well, I started. That's how the pen got empty.

I thought of leaving him that kiss at the last second. At the time it seemed
like the perfect way. I wonder if Radar gave him it. I wonder if he gave
him it the way I wanted to give it. Probably not. But, I think Hawkeye knew
how it was supposed to be.

I don't know the new guy but I hate him all the same. He has more right to
hate me than the otherway round but I do. I can't help it. He has Hawkeye
now. I don't even know his name. Maybe they don't even get on. I hope
they don't. But I also hope they do.
I want Hawkeye to be happy. He needs someone there. Frank can only be
a temporary solution. I hope, for Hawkeye's sake, he isn't anything
like Frank. I hope he's like me. I hope he loves Hawkeye the way I did. The
way I do. I hope he can make Hawkeye happy. As happy as you can get in
a place like that.

I hope he hates me as much as I hate him.