He let his mind go blank. That was easy to do out in the woods. Easier, anyway. In the back of his mind, he was still listening for the announcement of wounded in the compound. Korea was a lifetime ago, but also five minutes, and being back still felt temporary somehow.
Any time the phone could ring, or there would be an official-looking letter waiting in the mailbox. A couple of stern men in uniform would knock on the door, informing him that it had all been a mistake, the war wasn't over, and he needed to get back. There was still work to be done.
It felt like he was in a constant waiting mode, no point in really caring or getting involved, in just a little while he would have to be somewhere else anyway.
The woods made him feel present. He closed his eyes and listened. No voices, no choppers. No one could reach him and take him away.
He had tried to talk to BJ about it. In one of their weekly phone calls that had become bi-weekly, and now… had they even talked this month? Hawkeye wanted to tell his friend and ask him if he felt the same way. He knew the nightmares had found their way to California too, and sometimes there was anger in BJ's voice, a bitterness. It was so familiar and yet brand new when he talked about Peg and Erin, work, the constant sunshine, and the trials and tribulations of building a pool. For some reason, BJ's voice made Hawkeye tired, and anything he had thought about sharing, anything real, just sank back into a hiding place, and all he could talk about were the easy things. The wonders of small-town America. The boat he was repairing. The bakery down on Chestnut Street that still served the best blueberry muffins. The orgasmic experience of biting into one of those was an easy conversation to have. The fact that he didn't even read the local paper anymore because he didn't want to get attached, was not.
They would happily chat about Charles's engagement and Klinger and Soon-Lee finally making it back to Toledo, but any time BJ mentioned anything about Margaret, Hawkeye's heart would do a little tango, and he had to change the subject to keep it protected. But she was doing well, apparently. And that was good.
A sudden noise, a snap, made him gasp and open his eyes. Just a couple of yards in front of him was a doe. A gorgeous, lean creature with huge brown eyes, and ears on alert. They locked eyes for several seconds before the animal turned and started to walk away, slowly and regal, and disappeared into the woods.
"Stay safe, beautiful," he whispered and didn't only mean the doe.
It would be dark soon, so he started to head back. After a streak of unseasonably warm weather, the temperatures were back to traditional February ones, and the path was more ice than snow. He walked fast and recklessly, thinking that maybe a broken wrist or ankle after a fall in the woods would be kind of nice. It would give him a reason to stay home. To sit and wait.
He didn't slip, though. He lived a charmed life of magical boots carrying him over paths made of ice and beautiful woodland creatures treating him as one of their own.
Back on the porch, he stomped his feet to get the snow off his magical boots and walked inside.
"Is that you, son?"
He could hear his father coming down the stairs.
"No, it's Jane Russel," Hawkeye replied unenthusiastically, just another routine that needed to be done.
"My my, Jane, you sure clomp a lot more than I expected."
His father walked into the hallway, buttoning his shirt.
"And you sport more of a five o'clock shadow than I thought you would. How were the woods?"
"Peaceful. Kind of icy. I met a doe."
"Sounds like a very successful outing."
Daniel stopped and gazed at his son.
"Are you alright?"
Hawkeye bent down and started to untie his boots.
"Yes, dad, I'm fine. I got lots of fresh air and exercise. I didn't see any snipers and not once did a brigade of North Koreans come barging through the birches. That doe snapped a branch, and I only wet myself a little, so yeah, I would say the outing was indeed very successful."
He had meant for it to be a joke, but he could hear that his voice had a harsh edge to it.
The silence that followed was pressing. Hawkeye looked up from the shoelace, the damn knot just wouldn't budge.
"Look, dad…"
"So, I'm off to my meeting." Daniel's voice sounded forcefully cheerful.
"You are more than welcome to join us; everyone would love to see you."
Hawkeye shook his head. The meeting was a monthly event down at the Crispy Biscuit Diner. A group of old friends met up, ordered all the food their doctor told them not to eat, and complained about various ailments that came with age, and from eating the kind of food their doctor told them not to a bit too often. The doctor himself sitting right among them.
Hawkeye knew how much it meant to his dad, but he didn't have the energy to deal with his father's friends. Or with Beatrice, the owner of the diner, who never during his entire upbringing had missed a chance to pinch his cheek and tell him he was too skinny. That was before, though. These days she had stopped pinching, she would just touch his arm with a sad little smile.
Hawkeye did not have the energy to deal with sad little smiles. Or with his father's friends asking him if he was seeing anyone special.
He scratched his neck and bent down again to work on the shoelace.
"No, I'm just gonna stay in tonight. Maybe read. Make grilled cheese. You know, living the life."
"Okay. Maybe you can bring in some firewood? Do the dishes? Oh, and there's some laundry that needs to be folded."
"Sure dad, I'll do my chores." What the hell was wrong with this shoelace, why couldn't he get it up? "And maybe I can get my allowance a bit early this week, you know I've been saving up for that bike. Everyone at school is gonna be so jealous!"
He hadn't meant for that to come out so harsh either, but there they were.
Daniel sighed.
"Hawk, I just think it's good for you to have something to do, instead of just sit or wander around."
"Dad, Jesus, I'm an adult, I do what I want with my own time." He stomped his foot down and stared at his father. "I can wander if I want to, I can have a wonderous wander or even a peaceful pace if I feel so inclined. Will you just get off my back? I'm a war veteran, you know, other people actually treat me with respect. What do you want from me? I work, I bring in money, I do a good job at the clinic three days a week, that should count for something, right?"
That came out exactly as harshly as he intended it to.
"It does. And you do." Daniel's voice sounded strained. "You do a good job, but my son doesn't do a good job, he does an excellent one. He jokes and laughs and flirts and… lives! And I know he is in there, I see him every now and then. Like when we were having dinner the other night and started to talk about the time we tried to take the hornet's nest out of the attic. You laughed so hard, really laughed, and it was like you were truly back. There he is, I thought. And then sometimes you are just not. I don't know what to do for you, son, I don't know, and it scares me."
In the dimly lit hallway, Hawkeye could see tears in his father's eyes, and that scared him. They were two scared people looking at each other.
"Me too. I don't know… I thought it would be faster. A couple of weeks of sleeping in a real bed and eating real food and I would be back to normal, but time just passes by and I'm not. It's like… You know that time with the screwup, when they told you I was dead? I think maybe they were right, a little bit. I don't know when it happened, but the person who went to Korea didn't come back. I try, dad, I really do and I'm sorry I make you worry. I miss him too. I miss me. And I can't even get my fucking boot off!"
He stomped his foot again, and suddenly the familiar anger welled up inside. He tried to kick the boot off, but all that did was make him lose his balance. And there was his father's hand, keeping him steady.
"He will come back, son, I know he will. No, this is coming out wrong. He is back. You are back. And that's all that matters. Just… anything you need. Anything. I don't mean to push you and I know I keep saying the wrong things, but just know that every time you walk into a room you make me happy. And I wish you could be too. I wish I could make it better."
"You do. You do make it better." Hawkeye grabbed his father's hand and squeezed it. The anger left him as quickly as it had come. "Everything here is so much better. The best. I guess… just time, huh? Just time."
Daniel grabbed the back of Hawkeye's head with his other hand, and they leaned their foreheads together.
"We'll figure it out. The way we always do."
"Sure, dad. We'll figure it out."
They stood in silence for a little while, then Daniel exhaled, and took a step back.
"So maybe that wedding in Boston will be a good thing, don't you think?"
"Yeah, maybe." Hawkeye cleared his throat and scratched his neck.
"I still can't believe I was invited."
"Maybe that old tentmate of yours got nostalgic. Or it's just custom that demands it. Or, most likely, it's his bride-to-be who wants to see if you actually exist in real life, I'm sure there have been plenty of stories. Do you think the others will be there?"
"I know BJ and the Colonel won't make it. Maybe Margaret, she is on the right coast at least.
Charles always had a crush on her, so maybe not then, I don't know."
He tried so very hard to sound casual, but at the mention of her name, his heart did that little tango again.
"Old flames die hard, don't they?" Daniel had a strange expression on his face.
"It might be fun, though. Rub elbows with the elite for a weekend. You like Boston."
"Yeah, I think I'll go. I've been waiting for a chance to show off my new shirt anyway."
Daniel scoffed.
"I'm sure everyone will be very impressed with the flamingo pattern. You know, why don't I just stay home tonight. We can have some tea and talk."
"Tea? When did we ever have tea?"
"I don't know," Daniel said and smiled, "maybe all this talk about Boston made me crave some."
"No, you should go. Get out of here, have fun. Wait, you're not afraid to leave me alone, are you?"
"No." Daniel gave Hawkeye a pat on the shoulder and reached for his jacket. "I am a little bit worried that you have apparently been outsmarted by a boot, though."
They both laughed a little more than the joke called for.
"I'll bring you back some pie. It's rhubarb you like, isn't it?"
Hawkeye scoffed and rolled his eyes.
"I believe I have told you ever since I was a wee lad that rhubarbs are evil. They're basically just dressed up celery, way too cocky for something that tastes so vile. Bring me back some flan."
"My my, someone has developed fancy tastes."
Daniel stopped with a hand on the handle and turned around to look at Hawkeye.
"Will you be okay?"
"Yes. Go."
The door closed, and Hawkeye heard his father's steps disappear off the porch.
The silence in the house was deafening.
