Chapter Five

It was a week before Sally was well enough for Potter to even consider moving her to an evacuation hospital. It was another week, however, before Hawkeye would allow him to begin the proceedings that could take her there. Although not normally so sentimental of his patients, Hawk was enjoying having Sally around again. He had refused to tell her how serious her injuries had been, and so it was left to BJ to explain that she had been close enough to death for them all to have been scared witless, and that it had been Hawkeye's determination that had brought her back from the brink.

Sally sat propped up in bed in Post Op, receiving visitors on an almost hourly basis. But one person had been conspicuous in his absence from her bedside. Mulcahy had not seen Sally since the night of her arrival, and she was beginning to wonder why.

"Hawk," she asked causally one evening, as they sat playing poker and talking. "Is Johnny alright? I can't understand why he hasn't been to see me."

Hawkeye stared at the cards in his hand without seeing them. He didn't know quite what to say because he had no idea what had gotten into the Father lately. He seemed to be living on another planet, spending his days in his tent unless specifically called on duty. He would eat at odd hours, if he was eating at all, and the truth was no one had really seen him for a while. Except Hawkeye, who had called round to talk to him, and wished he hadn't such was his unfriendly attitude.

"I don't know what's wrong with him, Sal" said Hawkeye. "He went a bit funny after, you know."

Sally didn't know, but she could imagine all too clearly.

"I tried to talk to him," Hawkeye continued, "But it was like drawing blood out of a stone. He's clammed up completely. He won't talk to anyone, he won't join in with anything. I've even gone to his services – we all have. But nothing seems to be getting through to him. He's shut down. I think he's in shock, after seeing you in theatre. But when Sidney came round to see him, Mulcahy refused to talk to him. He says he's fine, and he wants everyone to leave him alone." Hawkeye shrugged his sagging shoulders and folded his cards up in defeat.

Sally couldn't say anything. She knew she had to see him, and soon. Hawkeye had told her that in two days time she'd be on the bus out of the 4077th and out of Korea forever. She couldn't leave without seeing him, not without doing serious damage to her peace of mind. She spent the next 24 hours asking everyone who came to see her if they'd seen Mulcahy, and the answer was always the same. They'd seen him, but they couldn't talk to him. He was with them, but in body only. His mind and his spirit was somewhere else entirely.

As she lay awake on her last night in camp, Sally came to a decision. She got up and pulled on her dressing gown and slippers, then pulled an anorak over the top to cut out the chill of the early spring night. Having told the duty nurse she needed to use the toilet, she crossed the compound and quietly let herself into Mulcahy's tent.

It was dark inside and it took a few moments before her eyes grew accustomed to the poor light. Slowly, she began to make out his shape on the bed, his shoulders rising and falling in time to his steady breathing. She crept over to his bedside and gingerly lowered herself onto the ground beside him, wincing as she felt her stitches tug.

A small crack in the blind let through the Korean moonlight, and she could see his fair hair shining out from under the blanket. Once again, for the first time in months, she found herself gazing down at his peaceful, sleeping face, and once again she cursed which ever God it was that had brought them together only to force them to stay apart. His gentle snores made her smile, and she reached out and gently brushed his fine fringe from his forehead.

He stirred at her touch, and for a moment when he opened his eyes, she could see that same tenderness with which he had always looked upon her. But as he returned to full wakefulness, the softness in his eyes disappeared to be replaced with panic. He sat up abruptly and pulled his covers around his chest.

"What are you doing here?" he said, sharply. "You shouldn't be here. You'd better go"

He began to fumble on his bedside table for his glasses as Sally visibly reeled from his stinging welcome.

"I beg your pardon?" she said. "What the hell is your problem?" she asked briskly. "I've been here two weeks now, and I've not seen you once. And to be honest, I'm more than a little bit hurt."

Mulcahy lit a lamp and stared at her in the soft light. "I've been busy," he said simply, turning away.

Sally felt her temper roar in her ears as she let rip. "You've been busy? You've been BUSY?" She tried but failed to keep her voice down. "I almost DIED and you tell me you haven't been to see me because you've been BUSY?"

Mulcahy looked away. "I can't tell you why, but I couldn't come. I just couldn't."

But Sally wasn't listening. "Do you know what I've been through? Do you know how scared I was? I was in so much pain when they put me in that ambulance and I knew, I KNEW which organs inside me were shattered to bits. I thought that I wouldn't make it. I could FEEL myself dying. And do you know what I was thinking? What was going through my mind as I bled to death? I was thinking how much I wished I'd never left you. I wished I'd stayed with you and loved you and told you how much you mean to me. I regretted every single moment I'd spent without you, and I promised God that if I lived, I'd make the most of my life by spending it with you."

Mulcahy sat stunned by this outburst, a lump forming in his throat.

"Oh Sally," he whispered. "I thought I was going to lose you, and I couldn't let that happen."

Sally sat choking back tears on the floor as he went on.

"I promised, Sally. I promised God that if he saved you, that I'd let you go. I prayed so hard," he whispered, as he reached out and took her face in his hands, "And it was granted. But now…" his voice tailed off.

"Now that you've saved me, you just watch me walk away again," she finished. "And what about my promise? What about the promise I made to God. The promise that if he spared me, that I would be with you. Or does your collar make your deal more valid than mine?"

His wounded eyes flashed at her, and she bit her tongue. Carefully, she pulled herself up onto the bed, and he helped her settle against the pillows.

"We would never be happy, Sally. I can't give you the life that you deserve. It would be full of guilt and sadness and disappointment. Surely it is better to have loved and lost…"

She put a hand to his mouth. "Please Johnny, spare me the platitudes. Nothing you say tonight will change my mind. I have made a promise to someone greater than both of us, and I won't break it. You promised God you wouldn't contact me, but there is no reason why I cannot contact you. I will write to you and remind you of my existence for as long as I feel there is hope. And one day you will realise…" she pulled his face close to hers until he could feel her breath on his skin. "One day you will realise that we are meant to be together."

And then she pressed her lips to his in a deliberate and loving kiss. He could feel his resolve crumbling with each second. She was here, in his room. Sally was lying in his bed and suddenly all those dreams which had made him blush so desperately in the daytime came flooding back. Of him, and Sally, alone in a room. With no pressures, or promises. Just the two of them and all the time in the world.

Then he came to his senses, and broke the kiss gently.

"You'd better go," he said.

Sally stood carefully and shuffled to the door.

"You can tell your head to forget us, Johnny. But your heart never will. I know, I've tried."

She turned and left, leaving Mulcahy to lie and stare at the ceiling for the remainder of the night. At around 0600 he heard a bus in the compound, and by the time he rose for breakfast at 0730 hours, Sally was gone.