Chapter 4

14 hours later, Trapper, Hawkeye and Victoria left the OR, yawning. It had been a hard shift – especially without the help of the nurses. Victoria had been rushed off her feet the entire session, bouncing from doctor to doctor to help with things they just couldn't do alone. She had also learned a lot more than her mother had been able to teach – it's one thing to demonstrate, but it's another to be actually doing the stuff – with enemy shells making it that much worse.

That night, boredom reigned over the Swamp. Trapper was tossing playing cards at a helmet, he and Victoria cheering every one that landed inside, Hawkeye was flipping idly through a nudist magazine, and Frank was performing his nightly beauty ritual, clucking all the while.

Exasperated, Hawkeye threw down his magazine. "Shut up, Frank, before I glue your tongue to your hat," he threatened. Undaunted, Frank continued his clucking, stopping to glare at Trapper and Victoria, who had been cheering the last card's landing. Fed up, Hawkeye chucked a towel at Frank, who turned and threw his shaving brush back. Hawkeye picked up his pillow, but his aim was off, and the pillow smacked Trapper in the face. Victoria, Frank, and Hawkeye found this amusing, until Trapper flung Hawkeye's magazine at them, knocking Frank's hat off his head. Frank threw his pillow at Trapper, while Victoria grabbed a container of baby powder, shaking the contents over Hawkeye's head. The Swamprats emerged from their lair, covered in baby powder, and laughing, Frank included. 

But the good cheer was short lived. More wounded arrived, this session lasting far into the night. At just past midnight, Hawkeye's last patient was brought in. "Oh my God," he exclaimed hoarsely.  The person lying on the table before him wasn't a wounded G.I., or an officer with shell fragments, or even a North Korean prisoner. It was a little American girl, all of five years old, her small chest a mess of blood soaked bandages. Victoria and Margaret, who were assisting, gasped as the little girl's eyes fluttered open – eyes that were the same colour as her doctor's. One set of eyes flooded with tears, and it wasn't the wounded child's.

"Are you an angel?" she asked Hawkeye softly, making him smile bitterly with her innocent words. "No, sweetheart, I'm a doctor. I'm going to make you feel better."

"Am I going to die?" Hawkeye reached out to stroke her blonde hair, dampened with red from a head wound. "Not if I have anything to say," he promised. Her eyes slid shut as the nurse placed the mask over her tiny face.

Hawkeye worked furiously, biting out commands with uncharacteristic ferocity. Suddenly, the nurse looked up. "I'm losing the pulse." Hawkeye stared. "No. No, no, no. I'm not going to lose her, damn it!" He clamped off another bleeder, and pumped in the blood rapidly, glancing at the nurse, who shook her head. "Nothing."

"Move," he snapped to Victoria and Margaret, who stepped out of the way. Hawkeye pumped the small chest with as little pressure as necessary. Victoria stole a glance at the other doctors, who had all stopped working to watch Hawkeye struggle with this tiny life. Trapper and Henry were white – they both had children the same age. Margaret was trembling, Father Mulcahy was praying, and even Frank had stopped to watch.

"Come on honey, don't let go, it's not your time yet," Hawkeye pleaded. Tears streaming down her face, Victoria reached out to take the little girl's hand. She felt a slight squeeze, and then the hand went limp in her gentle grasp. The nurse pulled away. "She's gone."

Hawkeye stepped back, eyes never leaving the small, still face before him. Trapper glanced down at his patient, up at Hawkeye, then at Henry, who nodded. "Take care of him," he ordered, voice shaky. Trapper glanced at Victoria, who released the girl's hand and helped Trapper lead Hawkeye out of the OR, back to the Swamp.

Inside the tent, Trapper led Hawkeye over to his bunk. He blinked – and then collapsed, Trapper catching him to keep him from falling. He shook with silent sobs, as Trapper held him tightly. "Oh my God," he gasped between sobs. "She was just a baby, just a baby…" 

"I know, I know," Trapper soothed, gently rocking back and forth. "You did all you could, you know that." Hawkeye pulled away, wiping at his eyes. "But it wasn't enough. I couldn't save her. God, what kind of a surgeon am I? I let five year old children die…"

Trapper gripped his shoulders. "Hawk, you did all you could. Not one of us could have done anything more to save her. You did your best – she just couldn't handle the trauma. It was her time."

Sensing that she was intruding, Victoria got up and returned to the OR. "How's Hawkeye?" Henry asked, as Victoria joined him at his table. "Not good," she replied. "He thinks it's his fault." Henry shook his head. "He takes things too personally, lets things eat him up. It's going to be the death of him one day."

As the session wound down, Victoria returned to the Swamp. Hawkeye was sleeping, wrapped in Trapper's arms, Trapper stroking his hair with one hand. "You didn't have to leave, you know," he said. Victoria shrugged. "I had a feeling I was intruding. Besides, Henry needed my help."

Frank clattered noisily into the tent, customarily sneering at Victoria. Startled, Hawkeye woke up, opening bloodshot eyes. "What is it?" he asked, sitting up. "Just Frank," Trapper answered dryly. Hawkeye scrubbed his face with his hands, Trapper's arms still curled around his waist. "What's the matter with him?" Frank demanded, staring at Hawkeye. "We all lose patients, Pierce, even you."

"You're the resident expert on losing patients, Frank," Trapper snapped. "Well, at least I haven't killed any children." Frank grinned triumphantly.

Hawkeye stared up at Frank for a full minute – before leaping to his feet. Frank screamed, rushing out of the tent, Hawkeye in hot pursuit, Trapper and Victoria chasing after Hawkeye.

Frank veered around a confused Radar, as did Hawkeye and his entourage. Cornered, Frank whirled to find Hawkeye glaring down at him. "I am going to kill you, Frank," he threatened, voice cold. "You wouldn't," Frank retorted, not sounding very sure of himself.

"Try me."

Trapper stumbled behind Hawkeye, slightly winded, while Henry, Margaret, and various others poked their heads out of buildings to see what was going on. Trapper reached out for Hawkeye, who pulled away. "Hawk…Hawkeye, c'mon." Ignoring Trapper's pleas, Hawkeye slowly advanced on Frank, who shrunk back.

Suddenly, Trapper grabbed Hawkeye from behind, pinning his arms to his side. Frank scuttled away, not looking back, while Hawkeye struggled in Trapper's grip. "Don't make me hurt you, Trap," Hawkeye warned. Trapper laughed. "Empty threats, Hawk," he scoffed, keeping his hold on Hawkeye.

Eventually, Hawkeye gave up. Temper cooled, he returned to the Swamp and his bunk.

The nurses returned that week, to the joy of the males, and the chagrin of Victoria. She made friends with Ginger Bayliss, who was also ostracized by the other women, for obvious reasons.

"They hate you for quite a few reasons," Ginger told Victoria. "You're young and beautiful, you've got talent in the OR, you're intelligent and opinionated and strong. But mostly, they hate you because of the relationship you have with Trapper and Hawkeye. They see you as one of the guys, not as a girl, so they're more at ease with you. Most of the girls here would kill to have a relationship like that with the two best looking doctors in Korea."

Victoria walked back to her tent that night, pondering this. Sure, Hawkeye and Trapper seemed to be more at ease with her, but that was how they were with everyone. They were naturally easygoing people, but they did seem to treat the women they went out with like china dolls, that would break if handled too roughly.

Time went by, and nothing really changed. Frank was avoiding Hawkeye at all costs, spending most of his time holed up with Hot Lips. The nurses continued to snub Victoria, who ignored them, and Hawkeye and Trapper continued to ignore their feelings for each other. Victoria and Radar were officially a couple now, and Radar was ecstatic. He had only had one girlfriend before, and she had dumped him shortly after he arrived in Korea. Most of the nurses dismissed him as a kid, so he really couldn't believe that someone like Victoria wanted to be seen with him.

"If there's one good thing about Radar and Victoria going out, it's that Radar actually bathes more than once a year now," Hawkeye quipped, drawing a mock glare from the younger man. Both captains were extremely happy for Radar, and were constantly offering advice, which Radar ignored.

And then disaster struck. A surgeon at Battalion Aid was killed, and Hawkeye, Hot Lips, and Klinger were recruited to go down and help the other doctor. The camp seemed abnormally quiet that day. Everyone was somber, and morale was low, as the energetic captain's antics were sorely missed. Trapper paced around the entire camp, looking rather lost. Frank hovered between the Swamp and Margaret's tent, Henry just sat at his desk, and Radar spent most of his time sitting in silence with Victoria. It was painfully obvious just how much those three people contributed to the outfit. No one to crack jokes, no one to chastise the nurses, no one to slink around on guard duty in a red evening gown and high heels.

As night approached, the camp grew even more silent, the chirping crickets making the only sounds. Victoria was curled on Trapper's bunk, book in hand, staring at that same page for about an hour now, while Frank came in and out, and Trapper paced around the Swamp, muttering under his breath.

On one occasion, while Frank was in the Swamp long enough to speak, he chewed Trapper out, ordering him to "sit down before I go to Colonel Blake." A relatively mild complaint – it was easy to see that Frank was too worried about Margaret to really get mad.

In another bout of uncharacteristic behaviour, Trapper actually obeyed Frank, sitting next to Victoria and dropping his face into his hands. Having finally realized that she hadn't turned a page for over an hour, Victoria tossed the book towards her bunk, curling up on her side, knees drawn in to her chest. Her dark eyes glittered in the half-light that permeated the Swamp walls – the same glitter that most people had in their eyes. A glitter of unshed tears, waiting to spill if need be.

As Trapper emerged from his hands, his eyes holding that same glimmer, he smiled ruefully at the sight just behind him. This was no place for a 16 year old, he thought again, for about the one-millionth time since Victoria first arrived. She was far too young to be witnessing the horrors of war – they were all too young, even up to the oldest, toughest general.

He slipped in behind her, so her back rested against his chest, beginning a gentle rhythm on her hair, the same position he had held Hawkeye in, a month ago. This time, the intent was different. That had been a reason to hold Hawkeye, feel their bodies together – yes, to comfort, but more to just revel in the closeness. This was different, comforting all the same, but in a different sense, more that of an older brother protecting his sister from the monsters in her closet. Except that now the monsters were out in the world around them, and they were very, terrifyingly real.

Frank returned, and silently went to his bunk. Again, the only noise were the crickets chirping away, Trapper wryly noticing how easily they went about their worlds. At least they didn't suffer when they were eaten – and neither did their families. A soft knock at the door interrupted these thoughts.

Radar appeared, face pale and looking faintly tear streaked. His unasked question was answered as Trapper nodded towards Hawkeye's empty bunk, a wistful expression on his face. Radar threw his girlfriend a sad smile, not seeming to care that she was wrapped up in another guy's arms. Trapper peered over her shoulder – he thought she had fallen asleep, but a quick look showed that she was still awake, the traces of the returned smile still lingering on her face. She had grown very close to both captains during her three months at the camp, and was now just as apprehensive and frightened as those who had known Hawkeye for over a year.

In the darkness of a Korean night, 197 people held a collective breath, wondering if their three missing people would ever return to the place that needed them so.

***TBC***

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