Disclaimer: Don't own it. Want to, but don't.
Author's Note: Okay, this is just a fic that I thought up trying to go to sleep. I don't know if it's any good, but I had to write because it was just bouncing around in my head, bugging me, so I had to get it out. Hope you like it! Please R&R, even flames, I don't care! It's sad, just a warning!
Chapter One: Memories Resurface
The doctors and nurses of the 4077th were busy in the OR. Normally, the room was filled with jokes, laughter, even singing. Today, however, it was silent, except for doctors asking for instruments. BJ and Potter had tried to get a conversation going, but Hawkeye, normally the ringleader, was abnormally quiet and reserved. Everyone could tell something was bothering him, but no one knew what.
After ten hours in surgery, the deluge of wounded finally ended. Hawkeye, BJ, Charles, and Potter slumped back to the changing room, and took off their blood-covered scrubs. Then, they sat down tiredly. Hawkeye was especially quiet. Of course, everyone noticed.
"Hawkeye are you feeling all right? Is something bothering you?" BJ asked in a concerned voice. He was worried about his friend; he was almost never this quiet, unless something was really bothering him.
"Huh? I'm fine, BJ. Don't worry about me." Hawkeye replied.
BJ knew his friend wasn't fine, but he left it at that. He would talk to Hawkeye later, in the Swamp.
LATER THAT NIGHT
Hawkeye lay in his cot, staring at the ceiling in the Swamp. He knew everyone else was asleep, he didn't know why he wasn't. He just couldn't sleep. There was something on his mind.
Quietly, as not to disturb anyone else in the room, he opened his footlocker and reached through to the bottom. He found what he was looking for, pulled it out, and sat back on his cot.
He stared at what he had found. It was a picture of Hawkeye as a little boy, his father, and his mother. Hawkeye stared at the picture. Suddenly, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He got up and walked quickly outside. After looking to make sure there was no one else out there (even though it was three in the morning), he walked over to the very edge of the camp, still holding the picture. What he didn't know was that someone had seen him.
Author's Note: Okay, this is just a fic that I thought up trying to go to sleep. I don't know if it's any good, but I had to write because it was just bouncing around in my head, bugging me, so I had to get it out. Hope you like it! Please R&R, even flames, I don't care! It's sad, just a warning!
Chapter One: Memories Resurface
The doctors and nurses of the 4077th were busy in the OR. Normally, the room was filled with jokes, laughter, even singing. Today, however, it was silent, except for doctors asking for instruments. BJ and Potter had tried to get a conversation going, but Hawkeye, normally the ringleader, was abnormally quiet and reserved. Everyone could tell something was bothering him, but no one knew what.
After ten hours in surgery, the deluge of wounded finally ended. Hawkeye, BJ, Charles, and Potter slumped back to the changing room, and took off their blood-covered scrubs. Then, they sat down tiredly. Hawkeye was especially quiet. Of course, everyone noticed.
"Hawkeye are you feeling all right? Is something bothering you?" BJ asked in a concerned voice. He was worried about his friend; he was almost never this quiet, unless something was really bothering him.
"Huh? I'm fine, BJ. Don't worry about me." Hawkeye replied.
BJ knew his friend wasn't fine, but he left it at that. He would talk to Hawkeye later, in the Swamp.
LATER THAT NIGHT
Hawkeye lay in his cot, staring at the ceiling in the Swamp. He knew everyone else was asleep, he didn't know why he wasn't. He just couldn't sleep. There was something on his mind.
Quietly, as not to disturb anyone else in the room, he opened his footlocker and reached through to the bottom. He found what he was looking for, pulled it out, and sat back on his cot.
He stared at what he had found. It was a picture of Hawkeye as a little boy, his father, and his mother. Hawkeye stared at the picture. Suddenly, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He got up and walked quickly outside. After looking to make sure there was no one else out there (even though it was three in the morning), he walked over to the very edge of the camp, still holding the picture. What he didn't know was that someone had seen him.
