A/N- Miss me?
Sara had cried herself to sleep, Trapper, who was still partially frozen with shock over what had just taken place gently lay her down on her cot and covered her with a blanket, He had noticed the scar on her wrist before but never made mention of it, always assuming that it had come from her abusive god parents. They had talked for a while longer, both still very unaware of what had happened.
"What about Hawkeye?" He had asked.
"What about him?" she had replied.
"Are you going to tell him?"
"No." she had said bluntly, "Not yet. Please... don't say anything."
"I won't." Trapper replied solemnly, he wasn't honestly sure if that had been the right thing to do. Sara clearly needed help, everything was so mixed up now, Trapper didn't know if he was coming or going.
"Honey! I'm home!" Hawkeye threw open the door to The Swamp, looking quite pleased with himself, and entered.
"Shh," Trapper said from his bunk, "The dwarf's asleep."
"No I'm not, I'm resting with my eyes closed." Came the muffled reply from the cot, Trapper was surprised she was speaking more than three words to Hawkeye, he was even more surprised by how calm she sounded.
"How was your date?" Trapper asked as he slipped the red leather journal underneath his pillow and away from Hawkeye's prying vision.
"Oh-ho, how was my date?" Hawkeye said as he fell back onto his couch, "Let me put it this way, L is for the way you look at me, O is for the only one I see..."
"Oh god is he going to do the entire song?" Sara moaned from her cot.
Hawkeye stopped abruptly and raised an eyebrow in query, "What's bugging her?"
"Oh nothing," Trapper she said, "Just a bit of trench foot." He leaned over and whispered, "She misses that corporal Everett."
"I heard that!" she snapped in a suppressed way from her cot, Trapper looked at Hawkeye and gave a small shrug.
"So was your date really that good?"
Hawkeye laughed as he kicked off his boots, "Good and then some, amazing Trap, Beautiful, smart, witty, and Emma isn't all that bad either."
"That's nice," Trapper said as lay back down on his cot, his mind not really taking in what Hawkeye was saying. "Now leave me alone, I'd like to get some sleep before I go on shift."
It was Hawkeye's turn not to listen, he was humming a swing tune and pretending to dance around The Swamp with an invisible partner, dipping, turning, all the while a crazy grin plastered on his face.
"Would you keep it down?!" Frank demanded from his cot, he had returned an hour before Hawkeye, irate undoubtedly by something Margaret had said.
"What's wrong Frank?" Hawkeye demanded, "Oak leaves pinching again? We could remove them for you."
"Through you're ear." Trapper muttered darkly and he pulled his pillow over his head in an attempt at blocking out the noise.
"Are you aware you're talking to an officer of superior rank?"
"Don't be silly, Frank." Hawkeye said suddenly, "Two Captains against one Major, we've got the upper hand here."
"Plus one honorary General." Trapper said as his pointed over the Sara who now appeared to be sleeping once again.
"She's not an honorary General!" Frank snapped.
"Of course she is," Hawkeye replied, "We made her little paper stars and everything."
"Oh, you guys!"
"Was that really called for Frank?" Hawkeye asked in an offended voice as he lay back down on his cot, silence ensued and all four members of The Swamp found sleep.
xXx
"Scalpel."
"Scalpel."
Two days later the OR was packed once more, a group of Marines had tried to take a hill that up to this point been one of the main suppliers of casualties for the 4077th, this was another unsuccessful mission which had landed patients on the silver tables.
"This kid's belly is full of metal," Henry muttered sadly as he and Trapper worked on one kid while both Hawkeye and Frank worked alone, plowing through the patients as best they could under the gruelling circumstances.
"Maybe if we stopped fixing them, they'd stop breaking them," Trapper suggested, "Sponge, Geez, he looks like he's swallowed razor blades."
"Sponge." Sara handed him the sponge but refused to meet Trapper's gaze. There was a strained silence in the OR, It was difficult to take for all of them. Only the small whimper coming from Frank every time he made a mistake filled the room.
"Watch it McIntyre!" Henry snapped, "I sort of like my little finger, I'd rather not have it suture on to this guys small intestine."
Trapper's mind was somewhere else for the moment but he quickly straightened out, "Sorry Henry."
"That's the fourth time you're nearly preformed a very unnecessary operation on my very unwilling right hand, McIntyre." Henry pointed out, "Okay, give me some retraction here. What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing, I just have a lot on my mind." Trapper replied irritably, really wanting to shout out 'Hawkeye's daughter needs help!'
He didn't notice Sara quickly look up at him then back down, her bright blues eyes full of fear.
"Alright, table for one!" Hawkeye called across the room, "Come on Ginger, patient me up."
Nurse Korton was working at his table, it was almost funny the way she and Hawkeye exchanged flirtations over patients. Hello Mister 3 medal general, you have sexy lacerations on your spleen! Sara had to stifle a giggle as she envisioned it, Trapper must have sensed her sudden smile because he gave her a quizzical glance before coughing nervously.
"Alright, let's sew this guy up, Radar!"
Radar was, of course, already in the OR, standing behind the white curtain.
"There aren't anymore casualties sir..."
"How many more casualties-."
"HQ says that we're on a clean streak for a while, at least 72 hours!"
Murmurs of relief rose up from the crowded OR, Sara breathed her own personal sigh of exhaustion, although she wasn't actually required to work in the OR (And a certain two majors tried to constantly discourage it) she still felt the need to pull her weight around the 4077th by helping out in any way, shape, or form that she could but as of late... Well she had been feeling less like helping and more like laying down on one of the empty tables and getting fixed up in anyway possible.
Henry noticed the young girls pale face and gave Trapper a slight nudge in the ribs with his elbow, motioning with his eyes to Sara. Trapper was certain he knew why the girls was pale and weary and quiet and all of the things she was. He also knew that it was in her best interest for him to call Sidney Freedman but that would not go over well and Hawkeye would demand answers that were not Trapper's to give.
"Sara, meet me in my office once this shift is over." Henry said quietly as he stitched up the young man's bowels in front of them. "You too Trapper."
Curiosity caused the young girl to look over her shoulder and see if Hawkeye had noticed or heard what Henry had said. Apparently he hadn't, he was still whispering sweet nothings to Emma Korton. I could kiss every inch of your bullet filled, yet sexy gallbladder, OR romances made her ill.
xXx
"Sara, take a seat." Trapper was rummaging through Henry's desk in search of the key to the Colonel's liquor cabinet, he was making an obvious attempt at avoiding her searching eyes as she sat down in front of the desk.
"What's up, Henry?"
"How have you been feeling lately?"
"Fine.."
"Henry, where's the good stuff?" Trapper asked impatiently, Henry only rolled his eyes and pointed to the filing cabinet.
"Really? Because you've looked kind of... tired, pale and stuff. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"
"Well, now that you mention it, I think Im developing a case of anorexia..."
"Really?"
"Yes, I have absolutely no interest in eating the food from the mess tent."
"That's not funny."
"Who said I was trying to be?"
"Sara..." Henry sighed angrily, "We're all really worried about you, you haven't been you're normal self..."
"And what, pray tell, is my normal self?"
"Well.. Erm... I uh... Trapper help me out here."
Trapper, who was leaning against the filing cabinet, drinking a beer, gave a shrug. "I think what Henry is trying to stumble around is that you've looked extremely sick lately, and you've sort of gone back into your original quiet self like when you first came."
"And what's wrong with that?" Sara demanded, "Maybe I like being quiet and emotionless."
"I didn't say emotionless."
"No, but I added it in for extra effect." Sara sighed, "Look, I appreciate your concern but I'm alright, really, there's nothing wrong with me, I'm perfectly sane. I have all my bits in the right spots. I have a cunningly necklace made out of the metal you guys pulled from me months before, life is good, No complaints. I'm feeling fine."
"But-." said Henry.
"But-." said Trapper.
"No more But's, I promise you I'm okay."
"We'd like to run a few tests..."
"No! No tests!" Sara exclaimed, "I've been poked and prodded by doctors and needles enough as it is! It's just the flu..."
"The flu don't last this long," Henry pointed out, "You can't use it as an excuse forever."
"So get me a medical dictionary and I'll start with the A's and make my way down to the Z's."
"Sara... Please! Let us call Sidney Freedman in here..."
Sara laughed.
And laughed.
And laughed.
Before stopping and realizing that both Trapper and Henry were dead serious.
"You're kidding... Please tell me you're kidding."
"We're not."
"Forget it," Sara snapped, "No way am I talking to a shrink, never, ever, ever, ever, ever... Would you like me to go on?"
"Oh well please..."
"Ever, ever, ever, EVER." Sara finished, "I don't need a shrink, I just need time to.. To think!"
"Think about what?" Henry demanded.
"I don't know!" She replied angrily, jumping to her feet and suddenly feeling very frustrated by everything that had happened. "I just need time to sort everything out in my head!"
Before Trapper or Henry could reply, Sara was gone from the office in a grand huff, leaving the two men quite shocked at the young girls sudden burst of anger.
"Well?" Trapper asked as he sat down in her seat and sipped his beer.
"I'm calling Sidney, At least he can talk to Hawkeye, maybe Sara will warm up to him." Henry said, "You going to tell me what was in that journal?"
"Nope." Trapper sipped his beer again.
"Why not?"
"Because you'd never look at her the same way again."
"Ah..."
xXx
Hawkeye came back to the Swamp late at night to find Sara sleeping soundly on her cot, Frank was no where to be seen, probably playing doctor with Hot Lips, and Trapper was sitting on his cot, looking at the ceiling thoughtfully.
"Hey, where were you?" Asked Trapper.
"On a date with Emma," Hawkeye replied.
"You guys are getting pretty serious." Trapper observed quietly.
"I think she's the one, Trap." Hawkeye said with a playful gleam in his eye, "Honestly, she's so perfect, everything about her..."
"What does she think about Sara?"
"What?"
"Well, assuming she's the one, you kind of have to hope that she'd get along with your daughter, right? So what does she think about Sara?"
"Uh, I don't know, not really the sort of subject I press on someone, y'know? But I think they get along well enough." He turned and looked at Sara, who remained unstirring.
"She's usually still awake... Why are you up anyways? What are you doing?"
"Thinking." Trapper replied.
"Booze or women?"
"Neither."
"Men? Because you know Trap, I'm okay with that."
"Yes, Ironically enough, but I was thinking about you, and Sara."
"Really?"
"Yup."
"Why?"
"Well I wanted a change of pace, Alcohol was getting to be a boring subject."
"And did you come to any masterful realization while thinking about us?"
"Yes."
"And what was that?"
"You don't know your daughter."