This is the first story that I've written that I actually sort of know where it's going. Go me! G.N.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. Yet.
"Hawkeye's replacement will arrive late tonight..."
"Excuse me, Colonel, can we not use the word 'replacement' please?" I asked quietly.
"Of course... sorry. I don't know anything about the man except that he went to Johns Hopkins and that he's pretty fresh out of residency." Colonel Potter made eye contact with each of us that were standing around his desk. We all had sleepy eyes that were red from crying. Even Frank's showed signs that tears had visited him during the night. The colonel bowed his head down momentarily, bringing it back up rather slowly. "Listen, I know how hard this is on all of you. It's hard on me too. But we've got to remember what we're here for and we have to overcome this..."
"Hawkeye would want us to," Margaret sighed. I knew that she didn't want to cry in front of us and I understood perfectly. But something inside of me wished that she would so that I could know for sure that she had some sort of feeling inside of her, some sort of remorse for what she had done.
We all sort of nodded and then the colonel quietly dismissed us. Margaret walked off in the direction of her tent as Frank and I walked side by side towards the Swamp.
"Hunnicutt," Frank mumbled. "What happened?"
I looked at him. "Shut up, Frank."
"You can't pretend you don't know forever. It'll eat you up inside. You'll go crazy." Frank nodded as he quickened his walk.
"Oh, screw you!" I yelled as he walked away. I knew he was right, but I wasn't about to tell anyone what had really occurred that night. No one needed to know; it wasn't any of their business.
When I reached the Swamp, Frank had already laid down on his cot, hoping to sleep a little. I too was sleep deprived but I really didn't want to close my eyes. I didn't want to dream. It could be too painful.
I sat on the edge of my cot, staring blankly at the empty one to my left. Soon someone would be sleeping there. Someone would be sleeping in Hawkeye's old cot and drinking from his martini glass and operating on patients that would have been his.
What was this new surgeon going to be like? I didn't care much. He didn't have to be my new best friend. In fact, I didn't want him to be. Unlike the MASH 4077th, I didn't need a replacement for Hawkeye. I was going to have to learn to live without him again.
This new guy didn't have to be my best buddy, but he definitely didn't need to be another Frank Burns either. I didn't think I could stand two jackasses instead of the usual one.
And this guy had better be stable. I couldn't deal with an unstable surgeon at the moment. It was hard enough to keep my brain intact and I couldn't help some other unlucky fellow keep his in place as well. As long as he could stay semi-sane, it would be okay.
I looked at my watch. It was almost three. I sighed quietly and stared over at sleeping Frank. I wondered what he was thinking about all of this. I wondered if he really knew what had happened that night and he was just acting oblivious. What was I saying? It was no act. Frank was the most oblivious person on earth. He had absolutely no clue. As far as I knew, no one other than myself knew what really had occurred except for Margaret and Hawkeye.
And... dead men tell no tales.