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February '55… Crabapple Cove, Maine

It was early in the morning when the telephone rang. As Charles had bemoaned in Korea that a Winchester only acknowledged one six o'clock in the day, a Pierce usually did the same. Usually with a drink in hand… Hawkeye turned over in the bed and stared at the phone for a long moment. It continued to ring. With a yawn, he reached over and turned the lamp on. Still, he didn't pick the phone up just yet. If it was important, it would keep ringing. If it wasn't, they had the usual two more rings before they hung up. Three rings later, Hawkeye picked up the receiver.

"The man you know as Hawkeye Pierce is sleeping. The person you are speaking to now is a very expensive answering service, so please be brief," he said.

"Hawkeye…" Colonel Potter's gravelly voice greeted. The other man was momentarily stunned at the unexpected caller.

"Why, hello. I'd salute you, but the morning reveille hasn't played yet. Just between you and me, though, I don't think the bugle is a morning bugle," Hawkeye said, rubbing the sleep from his face.

"Still as lazy and crazy as ever, I see," Colonel Potter said with a laugh. Hawkeye grinned.

"Of course. You didn't think I brought out my best behavior just for the war, did you?" he asked. The colonel cleared his throat.

"Listen, Hawkeye," he said. "I've got some news." Hawkeye sat up straight.

"Ooh, the important voice. What's going on?" he asked.

"I've got some news concerning… B.J…" the colonel said. There was expected silence on Hawkeye's end. Finally, the man blinked and his brain started operating again.

"What about Beej?" he asked, his voice a tad more rough than it should have been.

"Now, get me straight, I'm not saying this to give your ticker a test drive. I just got a call. He's been alive all this time and they've found him," Potter relayed. Hawkeye stood up quickly, almost pulling the phone clear off the table as he did so.

"B.J.'s alive?" Hawkeye asked incredulously. For the second time in two long years he felt like retching. There wasn't a trash can in sight.

"That's an affirmative, son. He was found, unconscious, in a South Korean farm field. The family that found him took him to the American Embassy in Seoul after they fixed him up. They cared for him there as best they could for a month or so since he contracted a mean case of pneumonia right after they brought him in. And this past week he's been at Tokyo General listed under critical condition as John Doe. He didn't have any tags on him, or any sort of identification. And the family that brought him in was no help at all. Anyway, he woke up two days ago and was able to give my name when asked who his commanding officer had been," Potter said. Hawkeye was torn between anger and extreme relief as he paced, the phone clenched dangerously in his grip. He wasn't sure if he wanted to lash out in anger or break down into sobs.

"What about the body they'd found?" Hawkeye gritted out, opting for a pinch of the former. Potter let out a sigh, understanding completely the younger man's anger.

"It seems the young man that died was a South Korean named Soo Pan Sik. He's been missing these two years, many think he went AWOL from the South Korean Army and defected to the North. Sadly, that wasn't exactly the case…" he explained. Hawkeye let out a humorless laugh.

"Better late than never, eh Colonel?" he said. Potter let out a sigh.

"Put a cork on the 'colonel' bit, son. It's Sherm now. Sherm… or even Doc… or I can handle Sir, but not colonel," he said. At that, Hawkeye gave a genuine laugh.

"Sorry about that… But I told you you'd always be 'colonel' to me," he said. Potter chuckled.

"That you did. Anyway, they're shipping B.J. out today to the V.A. hospital in San Francisco. I'm hopping a plane out with Mildred later today so someone can be there to greet him," the older man said. Hawkeye sighed, knowing that as much as Peggy had loved B.J, she just wasn't ready to see him. Especially since eight months ago she'd become Mrs. David Layne. Someone needed to be there to explain it to B.J.

"I'll be flying out on the earliest flight I can get," Hawkeye said. There was a sigh of relief from the other end of the phone.

"Good to hear it. He'll need someone there he trusts when we break the news of the former Mrs. And I'm going to try to pull all the strings I can possibly scrounge up to get the boy 'alive' again as quickly as possible," Potter told him. Hawkeye hadn't even thought of that. He was more concerned with B.J. actually being alive than with the fact that his friend had been declared dead and buried by the Unites States government. That in itself was going to be enough red tape, political schmoozing and paperwork to make the Pope turn Buddhist.

"That's why you were the big kahuna, Col… Sir. I'll see you in San Francisco," Hawkeye said before hanging up. His weak legs couldn't hold him up anymore, so he collapsed back on to the edge of the bed. B.J was alive. For two years, they'd all thought him dead… but he hadn't been. Hawkeye wasn't sure which was worse… B.J actually being dead or B.J being alive and stuck in whatever hellhole he'd been stuck in for two years with no one there to help him.

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The next day… V.A. Hospital San Francisco

Hawkeye walked down the hallway of the hospital, his leather-soled shoes squeaking slightly on the sterile linoleum. As he approached the nurse's station, he saw the former colonel waiting for him, arms clasped behind his back and looking as stern as he ever could. When they caught eyes, Colonel Potter stood straighter and the stern look melted into a grin.

"It's good to see you again, son," he said as Hawkeye stopped just in front of him.

"Slightly better circumstances this time around," the other man said. Potter nodded.

"That it is," he replied. Hawkeye couldn't get rid of the tightness in his chest that had afflicted him right as his plane had landed in gray, drizzly San Francisco.

"Well, I guess someone didn't put the puzzle back together right. Who knew that a 5'3, midget-shoed South Korean could be mistaken for a 6'3, elephant-shoed American? Amazing world we live in, Colonel…" Hawkeye said with his usual biting sarcasm. He could hear Potter's smile without having to look at him.

"That's the government for you," he said.

"Well, you're right. The government makes mistakes. Hell… Korea was one big 'oops, wrong damn address but we'll stay anyway.' I think the U.S. Army made a wrong turn at Istanbul but the big honchos in charge just didn't care…" Hawkeye said to the Colonel as they stood in the hospital atrium. The older man smiled at his former captain's acerbic comment.

"I'm mighty glad that B.J. is alive," he said, placing a hand on the younger man's arm. "I'm just sorry to hear that he came back to a life that didn't wait for him." Hawkeye closed his eyes at the thought.

"Me too. I'm pretty sure it was Peg and Erin that got him through these long months, just like they did when he was stuck in the Swamp. I honestly don't know how I'm going to break it to him that they aren't coming. At least not today, or anytime soon…" he said. The retired colonel shook his head solemnly at the thought. Then he slapped a hand on Hawkeye's shoulder.

"Well… he's on the second floor. Room 240. He's ambulatory, just barely. So, you might have to lasso him down," Potter said.

"Thanks, Colonel," Hawkeye said. He made his way to the elevator and didn't hear Potter sigh about the military address.

The entire ride up was one of nervous energy. What was he going to say? Sorry for thinking you were dead? Hawkeye shook his head. Not exactly the way one should greet a certified Prisoner of War. Even a simple 'How have things been?' seemed insensitive. It was unsettling to not know how to talk to his best friend when he was the one person in the world that Hawkeye did know how to talk to. Years apart did that to people, of course. But years apart where one person was held captive the entire time? Probably a little more extreme.

The elevator door opened with a loud 'ding'. Hawkeye took a hesitant step into the hallway. He didn't move for a moment as the doors closed behind him. The signs directly ahead of him pointed in the direction that B.J was located. It didn't take him long to find him.

Hawkeye watched as his friend stand near the window in the waiting room at the end of the hallway. He was barely recognizable. This B.J Hunnicutt seemed to be a shell of the man that had been ready to leave Korea. His already thin face had become even gaunter. The already gangly frame had become even more pronounced and looked grossly out of place on such a tall man. There was more gray in the receded hairline. But he was in one piece – standing on both of his legs and gripping the crutches with both of his hands. The tightness in his chest finally loosened.

"Well, well, well… look at what you did to yourself," Hawkeye called after clearing the frog that seemed to be lodged in his throat. The younger doctor stopped concentrating on the linoleum and looked up, his slate-blue eyes wide.

"Hawk!" B.J. asked incredulously as he recognized the lanky form at the other end of the hall.

"You promised me a dance my good man… and you promised me you'd be the one to lead. The way it's looking, I don't think you're gonna make the deadline," Hawkeye said in his usual flippant manner. He watched with a bittersweet feeling as B.J. hobbled down the hospital hallway on his crutches at a quicker pace. The light-haired man just grinned at the man standing near the nurse's station.

"It hasn't been ten years… just two… and I hope I'd be healed by then," B.J. retorted. Hawkeye rolled his eyes, but started his own trek down the hall.

"Ten… two… what's the difference?" he asked with a shrug.

"Eight…" was the answer. Hawkeye chuckled.

"Yep, you're B.J. I was concerned for a second there that they sent back the wrong person. But that smartass remark just confirmed it. Couldn't they keep you for another two years?" he asked teasingly. B.J. smirked as he continued slowly down the hallway.

"My grasp of their language was horrendous. They almost shot themselves a few times just to put them out of the misery of having to listen to me try. Why go back to that?" he asked.

"The hibachi? The egg rolls?" Hawkeye asked. Then he grinned. "At least they left you one good leg to run around on…"

"Just call me Hopalong Hunnicutt… M.D.," he said. Hawkeye let out a loud laugh that echoed down the long hallway.

"As you say monsieur …" he said with a small, beseeching bow and a grin. When B.J. stopped in front of him, he gave Hawkeye an assessing look.

"A little grayer since the last time I saw you," he said, a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes. Hawkeye laughed again.

"Oh ye who throws stones… you're the one that gave the gray hairs to me with the bein' dead and all. Besides… aren't you a little bit balder?" Hawkeye asked while idly scratching his upper lip. B.J. reached up to run a finger over his own bare lip.

"Yeah, well… I still have my big feet," he said. The two smiled.

"On one good leg…" Hawkeye shot back.

"Captain Hunnicutt?" a voice interrupted the two men. B.J. and Hawkeye turned to a doctor who looked to be in residency.

"That's what my wrist band says," B.J said, causing Hawkeye to chuckle.

"What about your underwear?" he asked. B.J. shook his head.

"My mom stopped writing my name in them when I shipped out to Korea, I think," he said with a grin.

"Well, well...the truth comes out. Underneath that proper, dignified military uniform was a boy who still needed his mommy," Hawkeye said of their first meeting with a teasing roll of his eyes. B.J. shrugged.

"We need to be babied sometimes," he said. Then he raised an eyebrow at Hawkeye. "Some more than most…"

"Isn't that a given?" Hawkeye asked, interrupted in his comeback comment by the young doctor clearing his throat after he realized the two could carry on with the banter for days.

"Captain Hunnicutt, we need to get you down to physical therapy," the resident said. Hawkeye smirked, a small twinkle in his eye.

"Who needs a wittier comeback when the torture will be enough?" he asked. B.J. threw him a wry glance.

"Ha ha…" he said. Hawkeye shrugged.

"I think it's funny," he said. B.J. chuckled.

"Of course you do," he said. Hawkeye put his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

"I'll stop by later to see how you're doing. Probably just to prescribe you some more pain and torture…" he said lightly with a grin before turning to head back to the elevator.

"Hey Hawk?" B.J. asked tentatively, causing Hawkeye to turn back around.

"Yeah, Beej?"

"Visit me a couple hundred times, will ya?" he asked. Hawkeye grinned at the familiarity.

"At least," he reassured, causing the fearful look on B.J. face to melt into a smile.

"We'll give the nurses a little hell," he said. Hawkeye let out a snort of laughter.

"At least," he said again before turning to leave and throwing a wave over his shoulder. B.J., happier than he'd been in the past two years, turned to look at the awaiting doctor. Leaning on one crutch he waved a hand in front of him.

"After you my good man. Lead the way to pain, torture and almost certain death," he told the doctor, who smiled and walked ahead of him.

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B.J was resting in his bed when Hawkeye finally had courage enough to break the news to his friend. Peg and Erin hadn't been delayed. They weren't coming.

The two men sat in silence as B.J's world crumbled around him. Instead of speaking, he just looked solemnly out the hospital window. It was raining outside; a fitting mourning for the end of a life. B.J Hunnicutt of Mill Valley, California was well and truly gone. Hawkeye sat in the chair tucked away in the corner and mourned as well.

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To be continued...