It had finally happened. Linda, like so many before her, had come to the harsh realization that life existed behind the glassy eyes and red innards of the patients we worked on. Finding this out the hard way was almost a rite of passage to everyone who passed under the "4077th: Best Care Anywhere" sign that decked the threshold to the camp we called home.

"His name is Dennis Martin," she said softly between sobs.

"Is it?" I asked softly.

"I read it on his dog tag." She looked towards the door. "He was so scared, Hawkeye."

"They all are, Linda," I said. "They are all too young to be here, too young to be involved in something like this, and they're all scared."

She turned to me, her tears trailing silvery streams down her cheeks. "Why didn't I get it before?" Her head fell lightly on my shoulder. "Why couldn't I see?"

"It's easy to tune it all out and forget," I said. "Actually, it's advisable to tune it out and forget." I turned her towards me and wiped the tears from her face gently. "But, once in a while, something gets through. It's different for all of us, but slowly the wall we build around ourselves falls and we are left vulnerable to the cold, hard reality."

"And what's that?" she asked.

"That this is a war, and wars are never heroic or romantic. They are chaotic and devastating. Not just to the land or the governments, but the people, the lives that are destroyed and the lives that are lost." I pulled my arms around her and tightened my grip. "Is this too much for you?"

"Of course," she replied with a sad chuckle. "But it's good to know that I'm not the only one who has broken down."

"Are you kidding, I break down every hour on the hour," I said, laughing. "I break down more than the peace talks."

She pulled away from me, but not completely out of my embrace. "Thanks, Hawk."

I gave her a kiss on the head. "Don't mention it."

She looked at me a little surprised, no doubt taken aback by the kiss. I didn't even think about it until she was staring into my eyes, trying to find an answer.

Suddenly, the doors to O.R opened and she broke our gaze. Tearing her eyes away like that felt like someone had just punched me in the stomach. I inhaled sharply and looked to Klinger, now coming through the doors carrying BJ's patient, Dennis Martin.

Linda glanced up as BJ walked through the doors after the litter.

"Is he gonna be ok?" she asked quietly. He pulled his mask off and smiled kindly.

"Because of your magic fingers and a few stitches he'll make it," he said.

She jumped up from the bench and hugged him. She stood there for a moment, her back to me, clinging to BJ. He looked at me questioningly, but I just shook my head.

"I'm so sorry, BJ," I heard her whisper. He glanced back at me.

"What for?"

"For letting it get to me."

He let her go and gave her a piercing stare. "Now you listen to me, Linda," he said, his fierce tone with his soft hand on her face a strange and stirring combination. "You don't have to be a rock every minute of every day. You are a human being with emotions and you are entitled to express them. If you are angry show people that you're angry. Throw punches, break things, but never apologize for feeling."

Linda let out a little sob and put her head on his shoulder. "Thank you, BJ. Thank you for everything."

She turned back to me, wiping the tears from her eyes. "And thank you, Hawkeye." She put her hands on the sides of my face and kissed my forehead.

Despite myself, my mouth widened into a smile.