A/N: I know I'm in the minority, but I've always loved 'Fallen Idol'. I think it's such a pivotal episode and I love any interaction between Radar

and Hawkeye.

He woke with a jolt; his heart racing faster than it should. And his chest hurt. He winced at the pain and glanced over at BJ, ready to wake him at a moment's

notice. It hurt to breathe and he lay there, gasping for air until the pain finally subsided.

Jesus, what was that?

He turned over and tried to go back to sleep, but it came again, stronger. He bolted upright. "God!" He was breathing hard, willing the pain to stop. Unable to

take it any longer, he cried out.

"BEEJ! BEEJ!"

And then, without warning, it stopped.

He sat perfectly still, aware of the notes that floated out of the warped LP on the old turn table. Charles' damned classical music. The needle was stuck, forcing

Hawkeye to listen to the same notes of Mozart over and over again. Ironically, Charles didn't seem to notice. He was snoring softly. It was a sound that normally

drove Hawkeye crazy, but at the moment, he had other things on his mind.

His gaze moved across the Swamp to BJ, who was turned on his side, blissfully unaware of the goings on. No doubt his head was filled with dreams of Peggy and

Erin; happy images. The lucky stiff.

Determined to sleep, he lay down on his bunk, staring at the ceiling, wondering what kind of crud would come crashing down on him. God knows he'd seen it all;

bugs, ants, dirt. None of it surprised him anymore. He shut his eyes and forced himself to think of something else… anything else. But all he could think about

was that poor kid laying there in the Post Op. A kid that didn't belong there and wouldn't have been there at all if Hawkeye hadn't been so damned self-

righteous and persuaded the kid to go to Seoul…

Damn… What in the hell was wrong with him? Didn't he know that sending Radar to Seoul in the middle of the war might result in tragedy? He shuddered at the

possibility that it could have been worse. A lot worse. The image made him swallow hard.

As long as he lived he would never forget the feeling that sliced through him when he saw Radar lying on that stretcher. It was, without a doubt, one of the

worst moments of his life and the worst feeling in the world.

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't have to look at his watch to know what time it was. And frankly he didn't care. His feet swung around and

hit the cold floor, making him shiver as he always did. But he knew damn well that the shivering wasn't from the cold. He stood on his wobbly feet and grabbed

his robe. Anyone who saw him would most likely assume that he'd taken up sleepwalking again, but what kind of sleepwalker took the time to pull on his robe?

Quietly he closed the door, grateful that BJ and Charles were such sound sleepers. And those Mozart notes just played on and on.


"Halt! Who goes there?!"

Hawkeye stumbled slightly, once again trying to contain his racing heart. "Jesus, Klinger! What in the hell is wrong with you?"

"Oh, it's you, Captain Pierce. I'm sorry. It's been a slow night."

"You scared me to death! I damned near had a heart attack!"

"Sorry, Captain. Just doing my job!"

"Yeah? Well do it somewhere else! I'm busy!" Hawkeye took a step forward, but Klinger blocked his way, holding his rifle at an angle.

"Go away, Klinger!"

"Not a chance!"

"Klinger, if you don't move, that dress is going to be a mini skirt!"

Klinger's eyes moved to his royal blue knee length skirt (the one that went surprisingly well with his navy blouse and khaki hat) and gasped, immediately

stepping aside to let Hawkeye through.

"Permission granted, sir!" Klinger's salute put Hawkeye even more on edge, and the corporal was barely fazed when Hawkeye shoved his way past him.

He made a beeline for the Post Op but at the last minute made a detour to Colonel Potter's office. As quietly as possible he slipped into the building. The room

was dark, but he could just make out a shadow in the corner. Moving closer, the shadow lifted and a beam of moonlight shone on a familiar object. A small

brown and white ear poked out from the scratchy dark green blanket. With a trembling hand, Hawkeye picked up the small brown bear and held it to his chest.

He closed his eyes and squeezed the bear tightly, wondering if the bear noticed that his owner was missing. Did he know that his owner had suffered a great

tragedy?

Hawkeye shook his head and suddenly he wanted to scream. Damn it, he was having an imaginary conversation with a teddy bear! What in the hell was wrong

with him?

He sat down on the bed, hoping that it would soothe his shattered nerves. But the damn bear was of no comfort at all. Perhaps he knew what Hawkeye had

done. And he had no doubt that the bear probably hated his guts. Well, that made two of them.

"I'm sorry." He said to the bear, giving it another squeeze.

After several minutes, he stood and walked out of the building, the bear tucked carefully in the crook of his arm.


The post op was dark, save for the stream of lights that provided little to no brightness. The overhead lights weren't much better, but it was enough for those on

duty to see.

Most of the patients were sleeping, but Hawkeye only had one patient in mind. Quietly he walked toward the bed, but was stopped by Nurse Kelley.

She crossed her arms and looked at him sternly; a vast departure from her usually sunny nature, even under pressure.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to check on-."

"I know what you're doing here and I want you to get the hell out!"

He was taken aback by the minor swear word, just as he was taken aback whenever Radar uttered it. But he wasn't about to leave. "Look, I'm just… I want to

check on him, all right? Is that a crime?"

"It depends."

"I know I'm the most hated person around here lately and no one hates me more than me. But I'm trying, you know? I like Radar. I do! I just-."

"Okay, go ahead. But don't-." She stopped and regarded him carefully.

"I won't. I promise."

She let him pass and the closer he got to the row of beds, the more nervous he became. He'd been in this room a hundred times a day for hours at a time. But

this…

Slowly he moved toward the bed, the teddy bear still clutched in his arm. Radar was sleeping soundly, and the sight of the bandages on his wrist and his

shoulder were disturbing. But it was the memory of words exchanged that nearly tore Hawkeye apart.

He looked around, making sure that no one else was within earshot; no one who would give him hell for what he had done. He'd given himself enough hell for

the night anyway. And then he carefully sat down on the edge of the bed. He smiled at the silly hat that adorned Radar's head. Even in his worst moments that

hat stayed with him. Hawkeye wondered how long Radar had owned that hat and where it had come from; probably got it as a kid in the cornfields of Iowa. The

thought made him laugh softly.

He cleared his throat. "Um, Radar? It's me, Hawkeye. I don't know if you're asleep or if you're just pretending to be asleep, but I need to talk to you. A-and I

don't know if I can do it knowing you're awake so here goes. I'm sorry. I know that doesn't mean anything. Hell, a thousand sorries wouldn't mean anything, but

I am. I just…"

His voice trailed away and he sat there for the longest moment, clutching the bear to his chest. If only the damn thing would give him some advice; tell him

what to say. But the bear just sat there, not saying a word. Hawkeye couldn't blame him. He probably sensed what happened and hated Hawkeye even more

than Radar did.

Suddenly an unexpected wave of emotion hit him like a ton of bricks. Tears filled his eyes and he swallowed hard, aware of the way the tears were streaming

down his cheeks, splashing onto the bear's soft fur.

"Damn it, this isn't supposed to be this hard, you know? If anything it should be me in your place, not you! I'm the one who wants to be a hot lover. You, you're

just a kid. I don't even know what happened on your trip. I mean I expected something big, but this…"

Again he paused, brushing away the tears that demeaned his character.

"I didn't mean to yell at you, I swear it. And I certainly didn't mean to call you a ninny. You're far from that. You're a hero, Radar. A hero and someone I'm proud

to call my friend."

He took a deep breath before continuing.

"Look, I'm never going to be able to say these words again, so, um… I guess it's good that you're asleep. And saying I'm sorry is probably a big waste of time.

I'm sure you won't forgive me. Hell, I may never forgive myself."

Suddenly he felt a warm hand in his and he turned around. Radar's eyes were still closed, but then he felt a gentle squeeze. A feeling that sent shivers down

Hawkeye's body.

Damn it…

"It's… okay…" the small voice said. "I'm sorry, too… Not mad…"

"Don't lie, Radar. You're mad as hell and I deserve it. And don't blame yourself, okay?"

Again, the gentle squeeze had the same effect.

"Well, get some rest. I'll check on you later."

"Goodnight."

Hawkeye smiled and stood, leaning over to kiss Radar's forehead before placing the bear carefully in the corporal's arms.

~Fin~