Hawkeye wandered the compound, hands in his pockets, fuming. The loss of that patient had stung him, badly, and he was being an ass about it.
As usual.
Normally a little heightened emotion would be expected, but like always, Hawkeye acted like a child about it, even if he didn't mean to. He had already been sulking two days, giving random people the silent treatment, and snapping at his friends when they didn't deserve it.
That's why he was on his way to Potter's office.
Radar was smart enough to duck out of sight as Hawkeye banged into his office, slouched slightly as he went through the double doors into Colonel Potter's office. Potter, BJ, Charles, Margaret, and Klinger were there. Radar meekly followed him in and became an instant obstacle as Hawkeye turned around moodily and tried to leave again.
"Not so fast, son." Potter warned. "Sit down."
"I don't want to."
"That's an order!" Their commanding officer barked sternly, and Margaret assumed a slightly smug expression. After divorcing Donald she had become a nicer person, but Hawkeye's attitude was grating on everyone's nerves. The tall man sat down in the only vacant chair left, hefted one leg over the other, and crossed his arms irritably.
"Now, Hawkeye, we all know that you lost a patient a few days ago in OR."
"I didn't lose a patient, I lost a child. He was underage and shouldn't have been in this goddamn war in the first place."
"It was his choice. He'd never have lied about his age if he didn't iwant/i to serve his country. Not everybody's dragged here kicking and braying like a bucking stallion, like you were."
Hawkeye just scowled.
"And that's why we've got the perfect way to keep your mind off things. All that kicking won't be for nothing." He raised an eyebrow, a little curious. "You're going to take martial arts lessons from one of the locals 'round these parts."
Snorting with laughter, Hawkeye's face cleared of his surly expression and he treated the whole thing like a stupid joke.
"Is that supposed to be funny?" "I should think not!" Margaret growled. "What, you want me to take kung-fu junk so I can catch a fly in the palm of my hand and break a brick with my forehead? No way."
Everyone in the room glared at him, and in unision, they said in agitated voices "That's an order!"
~*~
"Alright, tell me what this is, again?"
Hawkeye pointed to the ridiculous, poofy white uniform he was wearing, with a slightly dirty white belt around it.
"Dobok." The elderly Korean man said simply. "And you are?"
"You temporary Sa Bu Nim."
"And we're doing..."
"Tae Kwon Do."
"Which means?"
"Hand and foot fighting. Stop questions! Start now. I say charyut, it mean 'attention'. I say 'kyung neh', you bow."
Nodding, Hawkeye tried to stare straight ahead and wished that half the camp wasn't watching him. Charles was muttering something about a barbarian display, while Margaret elbowed him and declared that she found it all very interesting.
"Face me. Charyut, kyung neh."
Hawkeye bowed, feeling foolish, especially so when some of the nurses started to giggle. Baker, unable to help it, called out "Hawkeye, we can see your shorts through that uniform! Do it again!" But the Korean man's glare silenced her and the rest of the nurses.
He led the unwilling captain through a series of stretches, gaining much laughter from the nurses when the shrivelled little man was able to perform the splits perfectly, and Hawkeye cried out something about never being able to have children while he lie on the ground and groaned in despair.
After he'd had a minute to recover, Hawkeye's Sa Bu Nim showed him some of the basics. "Horseback riding stance, middle punch!" He called out after teaching him what each thing was. Hawkeye planted his feet apart about three times the width of his shoulders, and punched.
Songhim, the teacher, reached over and smacked his wrist. He didn't use much force, but it still stung. "Hey! What'd you do that for?" "Wrist straight!"
He sent Hawkeye through marching steps, and taught him whitebelt form.
"Kihap louder!" He barked, his voice thin and reedy yet with an air of immense command.
"What's a kihap, again?" Hawkeye asked, confused. Songhim got very close to his ear, standing on tip-toe, and shouted "HYAH!" "Oh. Right." Hawkeye repeated the yell at the end of his form.
"Now, you break board."
All the spectators, so to speak, stood up a little straighter. His first day, and Songhim would have him breaking boards? At least it was just a piece of balsa wood. Hawkeye took his stance, looking very unsure of himself. To a whitebelt, that little piece of balsa wood looked quite forbidding.
"HYAH!"
He yelled and swung his foot forward and upward in a frontkick. There was a resounding 'crack' and the board snapped into two pieces, one in each of Songhim's experienced hands. Those assembled to watch him let out a cheer, and Hawkeye felt a little bit proud of himself.
"Good... for first day." Hawkeye was sweating profusely, his uniform soaked at his back and chest, and his hair was plastered to his forehead.
"Now, you fight me."
Hawkeye paled. They bowed to eachother and took fighting stances, each man kihaping as he put his right leg back.
"Excercise freefighting... low contact. Shi jak!"
That was the signal to begin. Hands up, Hawkeye and Songhim bounced back and forth and around in circles. Occasionally Hawkeye would venture a timid kick, and the little Korean man would expertly block and deflect it, returning one easily.
After several minutes, Hawkeye got cocky and disobeyed the rules for low contact, swinging his foot hard up towards Songhim's head. Before he knew what had happened, his Sa Bu Nim's hand shot up and grabbed his foot. He jumped surprisingly high for such a little man and pounded his heel into Hawkeye's chest, at an angle and area where it would do nothing more than wind him. The tall man hit the dirt and lay on his back, gasping.
"Face me... Charyut, kyung neh."
Hawkeye bowed out and staggered to his tent, where he lie down and immediately fell asleep, worn out from his first Tae Kwon Do lesson.
~*~
When he woke up, he decided it would be his last.
"Beej..." He groaned. "What, Hawk?" "I... can't... move."
As usual.
Normally a little heightened emotion would be expected, but like always, Hawkeye acted like a child about it, even if he didn't mean to. He had already been sulking two days, giving random people the silent treatment, and snapping at his friends when they didn't deserve it.
That's why he was on his way to Potter's office.
Radar was smart enough to duck out of sight as Hawkeye banged into his office, slouched slightly as he went through the double doors into Colonel Potter's office. Potter, BJ, Charles, Margaret, and Klinger were there. Radar meekly followed him in and became an instant obstacle as Hawkeye turned around moodily and tried to leave again.
"Not so fast, son." Potter warned. "Sit down."
"I don't want to."
"That's an order!" Their commanding officer barked sternly, and Margaret assumed a slightly smug expression. After divorcing Donald she had become a nicer person, but Hawkeye's attitude was grating on everyone's nerves. The tall man sat down in the only vacant chair left, hefted one leg over the other, and crossed his arms irritably.
"Now, Hawkeye, we all know that you lost a patient a few days ago in OR."
"I didn't lose a patient, I lost a child. He was underage and shouldn't have been in this goddamn war in the first place."
"It was his choice. He'd never have lied about his age if he didn't iwant/i to serve his country. Not everybody's dragged here kicking and braying like a bucking stallion, like you were."
Hawkeye just scowled.
"And that's why we've got the perfect way to keep your mind off things. All that kicking won't be for nothing." He raised an eyebrow, a little curious. "You're going to take martial arts lessons from one of the locals 'round these parts."
Snorting with laughter, Hawkeye's face cleared of his surly expression and he treated the whole thing like a stupid joke.
"Is that supposed to be funny?" "I should think not!" Margaret growled. "What, you want me to take kung-fu junk so I can catch a fly in the palm of my hand and break a brick with my forehead? No way."
Everyone in the room glared at him, and in unision, they said in agitated voices "That's an order!"
~*~
"Alright, tell me what this is, again?"
Hawkeye pointed to the ridiculous, poofy white uniform he was wearing, with a slightly dirty white belt around it.
"Dobok." The elderly Korean man said simply. "And you are?"
"You temporary Sa Bu Nim."
"And we're doing..."
"Tae Kwon Do."
"Which means?"
"Hand and foot fighting. Stop questions! Start now. I say charyut, it mean 'attention'. I say 'kyung neh', you bow."
Nodding, Hawkeye tried to stare straight ahead and wished that half the camp wasn't watching him. Charles was muttering something about a barbarian display, while Margaret elbowed him and declared that she found it all very interesting.
"Face me. Charyut, kyung neh."
Hawkeye bowed, feeling foolish, especially so when some of the nurses started to giggle. Baker, unable to help it, called out "Hawkeye, we can see your shorts through that uniform! Do it again!" But the Korean man's glare silenced her and the rest of the nurses.
He led the unwilling captain through a series of stretches, gaining much laughter from the nurses when the shrivelled little man was able to perform the splits perfectly, and Hawkeye cried out something about never being able to have children while he lie on the ground and groaned in despair.
After he'd had a minute to recover, Hawkeye's Sa Bu Nim showed him some of the basics. "Horseback riding stance, middle punch!" He called out after teaching him what each thing was. Hawkeye planted his feet apart about three times the width of his shoulders, and punched.
Songhim, the teacher, reached over and smacked his wrist. He didn't use much force, but it still stung. "Hey! What'd you do that for?" "Wrist straight!"
He sent Hawkeye through marching steps, and taught him whitebelt form.
"Kihap louder!" He barked, his voice thin and reedy yet with an air of immense command.
"What's a kihap, again?" Hawkeye asked, confused. Songhim got very close to his ear, standing on tip-toe, and shouted "HYAH!" "Oh. Right." Hawkeye repeated the yell at the end of his form.
"Now, you break board."
All the spectators, so to speak, stood up a little straighter. His first day, and Songhim would have him breaking boards? At least it was just a piece of balsa wood. Hawkeye took his stance, looking very unsure of himself. To a whitebelt, that little piece of balsa wood looked quite forbidding.
"HYAH!"
He yelled and swung his foot forward and upward in a frontkick. There was a resounding 'crack' and the board snapped into two pieces, one in each of Songhim's experienced hands. Those assembled to watch him let out a cheer, and Hawkeye felt a little bit proud of himself.
"Good... for first day." Hawkeye was sweating profusely, his uniform soaked at his back and chest, and his hair was plastered to his forehead.
"Now, you fight me."
Hawkeye paled. They bowed to eachother and took fighting stances, each man kihaping as he put his right leg back.
"Excercise freefighting... low contact. Shi jak!"
That was the signal to begin. Hands up, Hawkeye and Songhim bounced back and forth and around in circles. Occasionally Hawkeye would venture a timid kick, and the little Korean man would expertly block and deflect it, returning one easily.
After several minutes, Hawkeye got cocky and disobeyed the rules for low contact, swinging his foot hard up towards Songhim's head. Before he knew what had happened, his Sa Bu Nim's hand shot up and grabbed his foot. He jumped surprisingly high for such a little man and pounded his heel into Hawkeye's chest, at an angle and area where it would do nothing more than wind him. The tall man hit the dirt and lay on his back, gasping.
"Face me... Charyut, kyung neh."
Hawkeye bowed out and staggered to his tent, where he lie down and immediately fell asleep, worn out from his first Tae Kwon Do lesson.
~*~
When he woke up, he decided it would be his last.
"Beej..." He groaned. "What, Hawk?" "I... can't... move."