Hawkeye always felt very close to Trapper. It all started when Hawkeye arrived. Ever since Trapper egged him on and the two went on a nurse hunt and a pranking spree, their friendship was cemented in concrete. Korea was their playground and they were the leaders of the small turf they had to call home until discharge. Even the Regular Army brats could not stop them now. They were on top of the world.

But he never felt anything more than a brotherly love for Trapper. People always whispered that their womanizing techniques hid homosexual tendencies. Not so, says Hawkeye! He had proof of his many conquests, more so than the married Trapper John, and showed them off when he could. Even acting the stalker to the nurses proved without a shadow of a doubt that he was a lady's man. He couldn't believe that people thought him inclined the other way if he was nibbling on ears or watching the women wash their underwear on Thursdays. It was unthinkable!

But there was always something about Trapper that Hawkeye could not put his finger on. Sure, he always joined in on the fun and always grabbed his flavor of the week. But there were always letters from his wife and daughters. Trapper was also very depressed that he was not home. He made that known very few times, mostly when he was drunk, and continued on his nurse rampage to scourge the fires of sadness.

Hawkeye pinpointed it shortly. One night, they both were alone in the Swamp. It was a cold late summer night, one that even Hawkeye cursed. The tent sides were down in an effort to keep warm. The stove was stuffed with kindling and some papers. He and Trapper were sitting together and bundled up in their jackets and beginning their nurse-free night. Their new still was up and running. The fruits of their labors dribbled into two martini glasses. As they waited those anxious seconds, they eyed each other with some sort of new understanding.

Hawkeye thought that it was about the excitement. It had taken them weeks to get enough supplies for this machine. Even so, it was taken more paperwork to cover it up before Frank Burns destroyed it against his precious regulations. Radar had been a gem throughout the process and Hawkeye was elated to have something of home at long last.

The feeling lasted long into the night. When the glasses had been filled, time and time again, Hawkeye and Trapper bantered about the merits of multi-layer socks under Frank's pillow, the latest medical journals and even how to get mint cough syrup into the next batch. Hawkeye noticed that, the more Trapper got drunk, the closer he got. He noted at least five times that Trapper moved his hand near his and then retreated.

What the hell?

Eventually, Hawkeye had to say something. "Trap, is something the matter?"

"Naw," Trapper replied. He stumbled on some words. "Not with you is there something the matter."

Hawkeye didn't quite understand what that meant. He let it go and poured Trapper another glass. He took it, all right, and ended up dribbling it down the front of his shirt instead of in his mouth. Hawkeye thought that his bunkie was too drunk to continue their conversation. He suggested going to bed.

"Are you going to read me a bedtime story?" Trapper asked.

"Not tonight," Hawkeye reassured him. "You can count sheep on your own."

"But…but…but…I need to say good night to the moon!"

"I am sure the moon will understand, Trap. Go to sleep."

Hawkeye tried helping Trapper into his cot. His friend was having none of it. He fought Hawkeye tooth and nail about laying down. First, Trapper began his assault verbally. Eventually, he began beating on Hawkeye's shoulders, demanding that he be set free. Then, he continued the rant by chanting phrases of liberation, love and something to do with equality. Hawkeye could not tell. His head was buzzing already.

"Trapper, go to bed!" he yelled, shoving his friend off of him. "You're drunk! We've got Post-Op duty in the morning and we need our beauty sleep."

"What does it matter?" Trapper yelled back as he landed on his cot. "You don't love me like I love you."

Hawkeye froze. "What…what did you say?"

"I said that you never love me like I love you."

"I never said that, Trap. I love you like a brother."

"And that's the problem!"

It was then that Trapper started sobbing. Hawkeye didn't know how to handle the situation. Honestly, all he thought was best was sitting back and doing nothing. If he heard Trapper right, then the camp gossip was true. There was a closet homosexual in the Swamp…and it wasn't him.

It was his best friend, Trapper John.

Hawkeye was stunned. He didn't know how to take it. Sure, he didn't care that Trapper loved men. He sincerely wished people could be whatever they wanted in life. But to know that his bunkie was in love with him was astonishing. He didn't return these feelings and that was a huge dilemma. He was stunned into silence.

"Oh! Didn't think old Trapper John had it in him?" his friend taunted when the tears subsided. "You didn't think that I'd swing the other way?"

"It's not like that, Trapper," Hawkeye protested. "I mean, I do appreciate – I am flattered, I mean –"

"But you don't love me." Trapper's tone was flat and cold. The repeated message hurt more the second time for both of them.

"It's hard to say," Hawkeye admitted. "Trap, we're stuck in a hellhole. We're very close. I do love and care for you…just…you know…not that way."

That didn't seem to work. Even though Hawkeye felt that he was being honest and was standing his ground, it made matters worse. Trapper screamed on top of his lungs and lunged forward.

"You…will…love…me!" Trapper screamed.

Hawkeye tried scrambling out of the way and ended up tripping over some old magazines. He yelled and swam through the garbage as Trapper jumped on his back and beat him with his fist. The door was in sight. It seemed to close and yet, so far away. He tried reaching for it with an outstretched hand…

And he found himself waking up in his cot. He didn't switch the lights on this time. He didn't need to. Trapper was up and his lamp illuminated the tent. He was playing solitaire on a crate nearby.

"Wild dream?" he asked Hawkeye without looking up.

"Yeah," his bunkie responded. "Once upon a time, there was a Daddy Bear, a Mommy Bear and a –"

"Hawkeye, I don't love you that way," Trapper interrupted. "You need to stop dreaming about people picking you clean."

To Hawkeye, this was a relief "I'd kiss you, but I don't think you'd like the taste," he said merrily.

"Yeah, well, just keep it quiet," Trapper said as he flipped around card. "I'd like some sleep sometime. Hearing you talk about me and Margaret is getting on my nerves."