Everything's Not Lost

"Good friendships are fragile things, and require as much care as any other fragile and precious things."

~Randolph Bourne

The rest of Hawkeye's sick leave passed without incident, unless she considered the items that seemed to turn up every time she left her room for a meal or a bath.

First there was the white paper pharmacy bag left sitting innocently on her pillow, containing a burn salve which made her want to weep in relief when applied to her slowly healing wounds. Then another, larger paper sack, this one left on the foot of her bed and filled with enough bandages to wrap her entire body from head to toe at least twice. And finally there was the magnificent bouquet of peach roses accented with white yarrow,* which had appeared on her windowsill one morning alongside a pale peach-colored plushie rabbit. The tiny card sticking out of the top of the flowers was simply signed, 'Get Well Soon' in a vaguely familiar handwriting.

Riza had ended up standing at the window for a long time, thinking about the only other stuffed animal she'd ever owned: a threadbare white bunny that had belonged to her mother before her. She'd loved that damn bunny. She had a vague memory of tucking it into her mother's arms some time near the end, when the sick woman's face had been pinched and pale and eight-year-old Riza had been desperate to coax even the tiniest hint of a smile from her.

She wondered now what had become of the little bunny after her mother's death. Probably burned, along with so many of Tereza's other things, if Berthold had had a hand in it.

Feeling slightly childish, but unable to resist the impulse, Riza rubbed the silky fur of the stuffed rabbit against her cheek, absently noting the high quality of the material and the slightly uneven stitching. Hand-sewn, then, and obviously no cheap trinket purchased on a whim.

But how had he known?

Although, the general had written to his daughter – Riza had found a few of his letters once, hidden among some old photos and legal documents in the attic. It was very possible that her mother had replied at some point…perhaps she'd mentioned Riza's fondness for the old white bunny?

Well. Whether her grandfather knew about her girlhood partiality for an old stuffed rabbit or not, she still appreciated the gesture. Perhaps she could call. Or maybe even visit him, before her furlough ended.

He was he only blood relation she had left, after all.

The sight of the flowers had excited Rebecca's hopes, and her face fell dramatically when Riza laughingly explained that they'd come from her grandfather. (The bunny she'd hidden under her pillow, unwilling to delve into her reasons for wanting to keep its existence to herself.)

"The general sent them?" Rebecca cried. "But –how'd he even know you– oh. Of course; your sick leave. Well dammit, I was hoping you'd had a visit from your gentleman caller while I was out."

"My gentleman caller?" Riza repeated incredulously. "What era are you from? You got a corset and crinolines on under that uniform?" Rebecca snorted.

"Well, I was gonna call him your secret lover, but I thought I wasn't allowed to imply that sort of thing," Rebecca retorted with a grin.

"No, you most certainly are not!" Riza cried, torn between horror and amusement.

"Yeah, yeah, nothing to gossip about here, I know," Rebecca grumbled. "I got it. But still! You were really ill, and he might've at least checked in on you!"

Remembering the mysterious appearance of the salve and bandages, it was all Riza could do to keep a straight face.

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," was all she said, smiling archly. "What's all this, anyway?" she added, finally acknowledging the heavy canvas bag Rebecca had hauled in with her.

"Oh! Your rerouted mail finally came in," Rebecca chirped. "I thought I'd save you a trip down to HQ and pick it up for you. I hope you don't mind?"

"No, of course not," Riza replied, pleased. "Although if you were hoping to rummage through dozens of love letters, I'm afraid you'll be sorely disappointed. The most interesting thing in the lot is most likely be the letter you sent yourself."

"Oh, I sent more than one," Rebecca said lightly. "And while I do love you - in a strictly platonic, sororal, and completely non-romantic way –you might not want to read those letters now," she added, her eyes growing troubled. "I certainly wasn't writing love letters. They were more like…why-the-hell -are-you-ignoring-me-and-you'd-better-fucking-be-all-right—" her voice cracked on the last word, and Riza's heart squeezed painfully in her chest.

"Catalina," she started to say, but Rebecca shook her head.

"No," she choked out. "Don't you dare apologize. You couldn't know I'd written, and you had more important things to worry about out there. I just…I missed you, and I was worried about you, and can we please not talk about this anymore?" she huffed and turned away suddenly. Riza ignored her.

"Rebecca," she said softly, circling around so she could see her friend's face. "Hey," she went on, gently placing a hand on Rebecca's arm. "You know, you were one of only three people I wrote a letter to when I found out I was being sent to the front lines."

Rebecca stiffened. She knew that, of course, the letters being entrusted to her care in Riza's absence. Although Riza wouldn't know that she'd peeked at them without meaning to.

"And I suppose I simply assumed you knew," Riza continued. "But…maybe it's something I should have said out loud before now."

She ducked her head, trying to catch Rebecca's lowered eyes. As she'd hoped, Rebecca reluctantly lifted her own head at the movement.

"What's that?" she asked sulkily, her eyes damp. Riza smiled softly.

"You're my best friend, Rebecca. And I love you – in a strictly platonic and completely non-romantic way."

A watery giggle escaped Rebecca's lips, even as she brushed a tear from her cheek.

"You forgot 'sororal,'" she said in a quavering voice.

"That too. Come here," Riza said, gently drawing her emotional friend into a tight embrace. The half-healed burns on her back screamed in protest as her friend clung to her, but she stubbornly clenched her teeth and ran a soothing hand up and down Rebecca's spine. Rebecca's friendship was more than worth a little bit of pain.

After a few moments of quiet sniffling, Rebecca hiccupped and drew back.

"I'm sorry to go all mush-ball on you," she mumbled, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Emotional displays made Riza uneasy, she knew. But the corners of Riza's lips quirked upwards as she reached for the box of tissues on her nightstand.

"Hey, what else are friends for?" she said lightly, offering one to her friend. She waited silently as Rebecca carefully dabbed at her eyes and blew her nose.

"Now, do you want to help me sort through ten months' worth of junk mail?" Riza asked next. "Or would you rather go out for ice cream and talk about what brought that on? Or shall we just forget the whole thing and go out for ice cream anyway?"

Rebecca giggled, more naturally this time.

"Sorry," she apologized again. "I guess…I was just thinking about my upcoming transfer. I mean, I know it's not like I'm never gonna see you again, but I only just got you back, you know? And now I'm moving out to Eastern, and you're staying here in Central, and I'm not ready to lose my best friend all over again," she sniffled. "And, I dunno, I guess I'm just feeling a little sorry for myself."

"But Rebecca, I'm not staying here in Central," Riza replied, surprised. "Didn't I tell you?"

"What?" Rebecca gaped at her. "No, tell me what? What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"Well, it's not really official until after the ceremony, but…I'm being promoted," Riza revealed, smiling. "I'm a Second Lieutenant."

Rebecca whooped and grabbed both her hands.

"Riza! That's fantastic!" she cried. "But, Central—?"

"Before I'd even received the notice, my meddlesome grandfather kindly informed me that there are a half a dozen available positions for a Second Lieutenant in Eastern City, under his command. Indirectly, anyway; I'd actually be reporting to someone who would report to him."

(And one of those someones was a newly promoted Lieutenant Colonel she happened to know, but she would hold off on sharing that little tidbit for the time being. He hadn't mentioned anything yet, after all, and she didn't like to presume…)

"Then—Riza! Do you know what this means?!" Rebecca exclaimed, beginning to jump and down, with Riza's hands still clasped in hers. "We'll be working together! Well, sort of. But we'll be in the same city and working in the same building and omigosh, this is the best news I've had in weeks!" she crowed.

Riza laughed as her friend finally released her hands in order to execute a ridiculous little shimmying dance around the room.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," she said. "But I really only found out this morning, when I called my grandfather to thank him for the flowers. I didn't even realize that he was still stationed in Eastern."

"Wait. WAIT. Hold on," Rebecca whirled round to face Riza again, eyes wild. "Grumman. Lieutenant General Grumman is your maternal grandfather."

"Ye-es. Why—?" Riza said slowly, confused. "You knew that, didn't you?"

"I'd forgotten the surname!" Rebecca howled. She threw herself onto Riza's bed and covered her face with her arms. "I KNEW it sounded familiar!"

"Catalina, I don't think I can handle another dramatic mood shift," Riza warned as she approached her bed with caution.

"My hot-shot general," Rebecca moaned. "The one who requested my transfer! It's him," she explained. "Grumman. And here I was, getting all carried away all by myself…getting my hopes up for an exciting office romance with a handsome boss… and -and love at first sight, and late nights in the office and clandestine meetings on our days off, and…I mean, I wouldn't really mind an older man, but this is just too much!" she wailed.

"Well, my grandfather is a widower," Riza said soberly. "And I wouldn't mind having you for my step-grandmother."

She sidestepped neatly to avoid the airborne pillow.

"That's it! We're getting that ice cream!" Rebecca announced, sitting up suddenly.

"We'll make it a sundae. My treat," Riza promised, biting her lips to hide the grin from her glowering friend.

"With chocolate sauce? And caramel?" Rebecca asked plaintively.

"And a cherry on top."

"Damn straight! I'm gonna need it to deal with this disappointment," Rebecca said darkly. "Your grandpa's just lucky that you happen to be heading the same city, or else I'd – I'd defect!"

"Come on, sweetie. Let's go and get you that ice cream sundae, now," Riza said soothingly, patting her friend's back. Rebecca sniffled dramatically.

"Banana split?" she implored.

"Don't push your luck."

A.N. Still alive! I've been busy dealing with some not-very-fun real life stuff, but I absolutely have not given up on my ongoing stories. (Wrote myself into a bit of a corner on the last chapter, too, which did NOT help...) Anyway, I promise I will update again as soon as humanly possible. Thank you all again for your continued patience and support!

A special thank you to my guest reviewers May, Rookie Bee, Ba-sing-saying, Kat, and ROYAI FTW, to whom I cannot respond individually. Your kind, encouraging words keep me motivated! :D

xoxo Janieshi

*Per my sources, peach roses signify appreciation, gratitude and sincerity, and can be used to indicate how much you miss someone dear to you. Yarrow, reputed to have medicinal qualities, symbolizes healing and good health. Just FYI, the peach plushie rabbit will eventually make an appearance in another story of mine (Alphabet Series), but probably not for some time. I just thought I'd throw her in here for fun :)