Disclaimer: Haha! Yeah right... if I owned these guys, people would kill me because of how long I take to update...
A/N: Aww... did you guys miss me? Haha-- ok, ok. I'm sorry. I got into writing another fanfiction. It's on a different name because I don't like to mix up genre's. Stupid reason I know, but because of that I've (sniff, sniff), neglected this story. But fear not, I have put up an awesome chapter for you all. And by the looks of it, there may only be one, possibly two more chapters left! Ok, so I'll shut-up so that you can read on. Read and review! ThAnKs!
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"Charles?" Colonel Potter asked.
"The mess tent," Klinger stated, "He's treating people there."
"And the OR?" Colonel Potter knew the answer; he'd asked it twice in the last hour-- though he needed to hear it again.
"Levelled," Klinger stated solemnly.
"How many are gone?" Colonel Potter had been stalling on asking this question, but finally found it necessary.
"Four," Klinger took a deep breath, "All patients that were caught directly underneath the roof. It's not as bad as it could have been."
A loud, rumbling sound echoed not far away. A grim reminder that they were in the middle of a war that was creeping closer and closer to them. Colonel Potter had gone through two world wars. He had seen men die in front of him, and bombs drop from the sky. But one thing he would never get used to was the idea that someone was behind the destruction. Someone was trying to kill these people. A Mash unit. Where lives were supposed to be saved, not taken.
"Take another look around," Colonel Potter instructed, "Make sure there's no one else that's injured and that everyone is ok. Try to get another OR tent set up by eighteen hundred hour, and I'd still like for you to get a hold of someone to see if this damned shelling is going to stick around for an encore."
"Yes Sir," Klinger walked out of the room; leaving Colonel Potter to himself.
What he wouldn't do to be back home in the states with his wife eating fresh corn on the cob. Potter had been dreaming of that day for a long time, and it was times like this that made him scared that they'd never come.
"And the fact that we're down two surgeons and a head nurse doesn't help," Colonel Potter fumed, "Margaret and BJ better get their asses out of there before I come and drag them away."
He had no sooner uttered the words than he heard the door slam open. Expecting it to be Klinger, Colonel Potter turned around; ready to tell him to get back to work. Instead he was greeted with the familiar face of Margaret.
"Houlihan!" Colonel Potter cried out; his eyes wide, "You're back!"
"Yes Sir," Margaret spoke, clearly out of breath.
"What's happening? Where's BJ?" the Colonel asked, spotting the lack of another officer.
"He's still out there," Margaret furrowed her brows in her own worry, "He wouldn't come back."
"What in Sam Hell are you talking about he wouldn't come back?" Colonel Potter burst, "Where is he?"
"He's still searching," Margaret tried to explain without her emotions flowing over, "We found out that they only found Hawkeye's dog-tags; not his body. BJ refused come back. Even after we found out the 8063rd is moving out."
"They're what?" Colonel Potter's voice was raising with every syllable he spoke.
"Moving out Sir," Margaret confirmed, "The bombing is getting too bad. I heard what happened here, and decided to come back. BJ promised he'd get a hold of us or come back by twenty-hundred hour."
Colonel Potter took off his hat and ran his hand through his grey hair, "Alright. Wounded aren't expected here until later on. If that blasted doctor is not back here by then, you," he gave a quick, vicious glare to Margaret, "Are going to be in charge of bringing him back. Understand?"
"Yes Sir," Margaret spoke quietly, "What can I do to help until then?"
"Charles is in the mess tent with casualties, scrub up and go help him," Colonel Potter instructed.
Margaret nodded and started to head out of the room.
"Major," Colonel Potter quickly spoke and the blond haired nurse turned around, "They'll be ok. Both of them."
…
"You're running out of time," Henry spoke urgently, "Damn it Hawkeye, you can't just keep questioning me the whole time."
"Well this wasn't exactly what I was planning on doing today," Hawkeye shot back, sitting down; studying the small teddy's plastic eyes, "I just-- don't know what to do."
"I know how you feel Hawk," Henry attempted to console, "But sooner or later you're going to be found. They're looking for you right now."
"Who?" Hawkeye looked up; the blood sticking his eyelashes together.
"Your friends," Henry stated simply.
"BJ," Hawkeye knew exactly who it was, "Ever since he came he's always been there for me."
"And he still will be," Henry confirmed, "He's willing to kill himself trying to find you. And he doesn't even know if you're alive."
"So you think…" Hawkeye spoke slowly, "That I should choose to live?"
"You have to think it over," Henry forced the urgency out of his voice, "You don't know what will happen either way. Weather you choose to live or die, you'll have to live with that decision. There's someone here for you if you stay, and there'll be someone there for you if you go. But you have to decide before fate decides for you."
"Ok," Hawkeye nodded slowly and stood up, "I know what I'm going to do."
…
BJ stumbled through the debris strewn road. Though it could hardly be called a road. A road would be something someone could drive a vehicle through. This place was just like the war movies BJ remembered watching as he grew up-- where there was more hurt and pain then smiles and laughter. And really, what did he expect? This was supposed to be a 'police action', but the only action the police were seeing was that back in the states. Not here. Not where the real action was. The war.
"I'll find you Hawk," BJ vowed as he stumbled along, "I'll bring you back. I promise I'll bring you back."
Through some harsh talking, BJ had managed to convince Major Dream to give him the area that the dog-tags were found. And now he stood in the same general area. It scared him because BJ had already found three bodies of soldiers that had yet to be found; all dead. Fear washed through him that the next body he'd turn over would be Hawkeye's.
"What's that?" BJ wondered aloud, seeing something green sticking out from under a large piece of flat metal.
Moving in slow motion, the Captain walked over. Hands trembling, he moved the debris away and turned the body over. To look into the eyes of Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce.
To Be Continued...
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A/N: Not bad huh? Haha-- I of course, had to leave you on a nice cliffhanger! It just wouldn't be me if I didn't. Ok, so I was thinking. Many of you are 'varied' readers, and read plenty of different things. So I thought that maybe I should tell you all what other fanfiction I write. Have any of you ever heard of the show 'Supernatual'? My favorite show right now! I love writing fanfics for that show (man... it's just like Simon & Simon... haha... execpt these guys are hotter). Anyways. If any of you are interested in reading some of those stories, they're under the name of 'Beautiful Ally' on here. Well... you've read, now review! ThAnKs!