Title: When It's Time To Say Goodbye
Author: Lisa M
Pairing: Hawkeye/BJ
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue. I'm not making any money at all. The only thing MASH related that I own is a t-shirt.
Archive: Anywhere, just let me know.
Feedback: Would be appreciated - good or bad.
Spoilers: Yes, for Goodbye, Farewell and Amen.
Summary: BJ's thoughts during GFA.
A/N: Well, considering the fact that I wrote this, it's rated PG (no sexual content), and it's set during the episode Goodbye, Farewell and Amen, you can pretty much take it to the bank that this fic is nothing but angst. You've been warned. This is from BJ's POV - there are some tense shifts, as well as going from you/your to he/him/his, etc. This is intentional.
A/N: Dedicated to my friends on yahoo groups. If it wasn't for you guys, I would've given up on writing MASH fic long ago! Thanks for being so supportive and inspiring.
Discharged.
The word on the paper seemed unreal. A mirage. The one thing I wanted, more than anything, was finally in my hands. I reread the page over and over, my mind wrapping around the fact that I was leaving. Going home.
I would be home in time for Erin's second birthday. Home, in Peg's arms.
The joy I felt was unparalleled. I jumped. I screamed. I ran around the compound like a complete lunatic. But who could blame me? I was going where they all wanted to be themselves.
Home.
But you weren't in camp to celebrate with me. To share in my happiness. You were there, in that place, with Sidney and I knew I had to see you before I left. I'd never forgive myself if I didn't. You have been my anchor, my rock. The keeper of my sanity in this otherwise insane place.
And I knew, even though you had never actually said the words to me, that you had been devastated when Trapper left without so much as leaving a note. I could never do that to you. Not after all we'd been through.
I didn't know what I'd find when I got to the psych hospital - and it was so much worse than anything I could have expected. You were not you. The man I saw in front of me was a pale immitation of the Hawkeye Pierce I'd grown to know, and love. A weak shell of a man who had once been one of the strongest people I'd ever met. It scared me to death to think - to see - that something like that could happen to someone like you.
I was terrified to tell you I was leaving, so I didn't. I lied to you. I let you believe I'd be waiting for you back at camp. What a horrible thing it was that I did.
Things happened so quickly when I got back to camp. Plans were made and I had to leave. I tried so had to leave you a note, but I didn't. I made Margaret promise to tell you that there was no time, but that was no excuse. I thought about you during the entire ride to Kimpo and while waiting for my flight out of Guam. Part of me wanted to turn back, to make things right.
But I couldn't. I had to get home to my family.
I made a silent promise to call you as soon as I got back to California. That was the thought in my mind when the MPs approached me as I was sitting in the officer's club and gave me my new orders. My discharge had been revoked. I was being sent back to the 4077th. I was furious. Devastated. I had made it a third of the way home and I was being jerked back to that place. But as angry as I was, there was a part of me that rejoiced.
I would be seeing you again.
Sure, when I got off of the helicopter, I had put on a show for Potter and Klinger. I threw my bag down to the ground, pretending to be angry. But the truth was that before the helicopter even landed, my eyes were scouring the entire compound - for you.
As Colonel Potter and I were walking down off the landing pad, you walked up behind us. I knew you were there before I even saw you. When I turned around, it was obvious that you were upset. I could see the betrayal reflected in your eyes. It nearly broke my heart to know that I was the one that had put that sorrow inside of you. I reached out and touched your shoulder and made some stupid comment about how you looked better than the last time I'd seen you. Your expression nearly shattered my soul.
"I tried to leave a note, there just wasn't time." The words sounded so hollow, so false. Even though they were anything but.
"I didn't even know you were gone," you replied flippantly. But the sadness in your tone was very apparent. "I thought you were in the bathroom." Then you walked away and I was left wondering how I could ever make it up to you.
That very night was the first time you came to me. I was laying on my cot when I felt your hand on my shoulder. I turned to meet your eyes and they were filled with such a heavy sadness that it tore me apart. I had sacrificed a small part of our friendship by leaving without saying goodbye. By lying to you ... letting you think I'd be here when you got back. There were no tears in your eyes, but I would never expect them from you. That's just not your thing. My own eyes welled up, but I forced the tears away before they fell.
A whispered "I'm sorry" and a set of open arms were all I could offer you. Without a word, you lowered yourself onto my cot and I folded you against me. My arms wrapped around you and I pulled you in as tightly as I could. Part of me knew we could get into a lot of trouble if someone found us this way - but I didn't think that anyone who had lived through this hell with us would ever turn us in. Not even Charles.
I cradled your head to my shoulder, my cheek resting in the feathery softness of your hair. My shirt became slightly damp beneath your face and I felt your chest hitching against my side.
"I'm so sorry, Hawk," I whispered and held you even closer. Our bodies relaxed into the rough canvas of my cot. Your breathing began to slow and I allowed myself to be pulled into the peacefullness of sleep.
After that night, we made it a point to spend every free moment with each other. In the mess, in the Swamp ... it didn't matter where. If you found one of us, you'd likely be finding the other somewhere nearby. Time was short, we knew, and there wasn't going to be a single second wasted.
And then, about a week after I returned to the 4077th, something changed between us.
Hawkeye came to my bed, just like he always did. We spoke of the future for a while, just like we always did. But, this night, as we were gradually falling into the sweet embrace of slumber, my best friend leaned over and kissed me. His lips were soft. Unassuming. I felt him trembling slightly and tightened my arms around him. My lips moved in concert with his.
Of course, there was some guilt. I could feel it simmering warmly in my gut. Guilt over Peg. Guilt over Erin. But mostly, guilt over Hawkeye. I knew this was an impossible situation. I should've put a stop to it before things got too far. Got too deep.
But I couldn't. I wouldn't. I needed him so bad and wanted him so much. This, I knew for sure. Guilt and fear were pushed aside and all that was left was us. Hawkeye Pierce and BJ Hunnicutt. I parted my lips with a deep sigh and allowed Hawkeye to deepen our kiss.
This was all we had. It never went beyond a kiss. Lips on lips, arms entwined, breath shared. A simple thing, really, but each time our mouths met, it meant so much more. There was a desperate need for comfort. For understanding. An unyielding desire to feel something - anything. To be able to anchor ourselves to each other without saying the one word that I didn't want to say to him.
When I knew Hawkeye was asleep, his breathing slow and steady, I climbed out of bed and left the Swamp. I made my way, in the desolate lightless night, to the heli-pad. There was work that needed to be done and I didn't have much time.
It had to be perfect. He deserved that from me. I wanted him to know ... no, I needed him to know that he had been more than a friend to me. That he was worth 'goodbye' even if I was too much of a coward to bring myself to say the actual word to him.
"Sounds like my cab's here," Hawkeye says quietly as the hum of the chopper blades sound in the distance.
"Yeah," I reply and brush my fingertips and knuckles over my tear-dampened cheeks.
"So," he starts, but I can't bear the thought of him leaving me just yet.
"Come on," I interrupt and tap him on the arm. "I'll give you a ride up there."
We hop onto the motorcycle and Hawkeye places his hands at my waist. I feel my tears begin to well, but I stop them before they fall. He squeezes me tightly as we climb the hill. I stop beside the helicopter and we get off of the bike.
"Look, I know how tough it is for you to say goodbye, so I'll say it," Hawkeye's tone is full of sadness, his expression is one of depression. "Maybe you're right. Maybe we will see each other again. But just in case we don't, I want you to know how much you've meant to me. I'll never be able to shake you. Whenever I see a big pair of feet or a cheesy moustache, I'll think of you."
God, that's so Hawkeye. He makes a joke when things get serious. A tear escapes my eyes because I realize that I am just like him. I try and grin through the pain and I'm not sure I succeed.
"Whenever I smell month-old socks, I'll think of you."
"Or the next time somebody nails my shoe to the floor."
"Or when somebody gives me a martini that tastes like lighter fluid."
"I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you. A lot." I can barely look him in the eyes. I'm afraid that if I do, I'll never be able to walk away from him. But I force myself to do it. "I can't imagine what this place would've been like if I hadn't found you here."
Hawkeye pulls me into a crushing hug. I feel his hand clasp the back of my head. I wish I could kiss him one last time, but I know that it's impossible. We part and I hold onto his hand for as long as I possibly can. He rushes over to the helicopter and boards. When he looks over at me, I put on a smile.
"I'll see you back in the states. I promise." I yell trying to make my voice heard over the noisy sounds of the helicopter and my equally loud motorcycle. I swallow back my sorrow and continue speaking to him. I want to make sure that he sees what I've left for him. "But just in case, I left you a note," I say and gesture toward my tableau.
I look back at my friend once more. I know that it's likely I may never see him again. I commit his face to my memory and drive away. There won't be a last glance over my shoulder to watch him go. I can't bear the thought of it. I feel his eyes following me until I'm beyond their reach. They burn into me, searing my heart to the core.
The tell-tale sound of Hawkeye's chopper rising meets my ears. He will see my message of goodbye and I hold on to the hope that he will finally know how much he's meant to me.
The End