Chapter 6 - Apologies

Agnes had firmly decided not to be a part of whatever quarrel that had erupted between Charles and Hawkeye. It had nothing to do with her. So why, she wondered, was she right now peeking worryingly through her window at the Swamp?

She had expected more from Hawkeye, so it disappointed her, when he and Captain Hunnicutt walked past the surgeon's quarters to Post-Op, without so much as a glare at Charles, whom she could see was sitting on his bunk through the fly net.

She felt intensely bad for the tall, proud surgeon and the realization made her curse at herself.

You're only going to stay for another six days? Why even bother? Let them fight their own battles.

But she knew she couldn't. Charles' reaction to Hawkeye's malice had been quite fierce – but also surprisingly human. The incident clearly still troubled him. Agnes couldn't blame him: Getting so close to having your hands smeared with innocent blood, was a tough case to swallow. Boy, didn't she know it?

Agnes watched the Swamp for a little while more, until she was certain BJ and Hawkeye wouldn't return. When she knocked on the wooden door, Charles growled vaguely: "Yes?"

He was drinking – cognac, if she knew him right. Just as Agnes walked in, he was filling was she suspected weren't his first glass.

She raised a puzzled brow at him. "I'm sorry Hawkeye's childish aggravation drove you to the bottle."

"Captain Pierce is far too insignificant to be the cause of my troubles," Charles muttered, before slumping down on his neatly made bed.

"Then I'm sorry your bad conscience did it," Agnes said mildly.

Charles looked down at his glass, but said nothing. Agnes gestured to the end of his bed.

"Do you mind?"

Charles shook his head and emptied half the cognac in one swig. Agnes said down next to him and waited. Finally, Charles heaved a deep sigh.

"I keep inventing all kind of excuses for my blunder," he said, his voice hardly more than a murmur. "But it's no use. What I did was inexcusable. I nearly killed that young man because of a moments carelessness. What good is a careless surgeon?" He frowned. "Imagine if the Mercy found out. I would never even be considered Chief of Thoracic Surgery, if the words spread. It could be the end of my career."

"Major, we all make mistakes. That's what separates us from robots."

"What a comforting thought," Charles responded dryly and drained the rest of the glass' containment.

"It is," Agnes said softly. "It was in fact the only thing that kept me going, when I was to blame for a young man almost dying of anaphylactic shock the first week I worked in Tokyo."

Charles swallowed the cognac, slightly regretful of his words.

"Forgive me, Captain. I had no idea."

"My point is," Agnes continued, "that the slipup did not make a worse doctor of me. On the contrary, I think it helped me improve a great deal. From now on, even at the most stressful moments of my life, I will never forget to check a patient's medical report before I administrate penicillin. And I'm positive that you're scarcely likely to make the mistake of misreading a label ever again. That's what we are supposed to do with mistakes: Learn from them, not beat ourselves up with them."

Charles glanced at her side, before eyeing up his empty glass; he hesitated, then put it down.

"True," he said thoughtfully. "I must say, for a woman who decided to come to this foyer of Hell at her own free will, you do have your bright moments."

"Tell me something, Major, are you even physically capable of speaking a whole sentence without drowning every second word in sarcasm?"

She managed to get a smile from him.

"At special occasions," he said softly and looked at her. "Thank you, Agnes."

Agnes nudged him with her elbow, before she rose from his bed.

"Anytime, Charles. See you at dinner."

He must have been drunker than he thought; he nearly felt a pang of remorse, when she left the tent without him. How silly. Well, that was it: This place had finally started to destroy him.

oOo

Even though he would never admit it, Hawkeye hung around in Post-Up a lot longer than necessary after lunch, just to avoid talking to Charles. Finally, when BJ had glanced at him significantly for the fourth time, he sighed and slunk off to the Swamp.

Charles sat lounged in his reading chair, a thick book resting in his lap and a cup of tea by his side. Hawkeye cleared his throat, when his appearance seemed to go over the Bostonians head.

"Hi," he began, awkwardly, in a too-jolly tone. "What, uh… What are you reading?"

Charles sipped his tea, but ignored him. Hawkeye stepped a little closer.

"So…" He tilted his head to read the title. "The Iliad? Is it any good?"

Charles disregarded him completely and turned a page.

"Please, no spoiler! I'm gonna read my own copy anytime soon."

Silence. Hawkeye smoothened his hair with an annoyed movement. It had always rubbed him wrong, when Charles had a hold over him, self-inflicted or not. It only made it worse knowing that Charles, as mad as he might pretend to be, was secretly enjoying it.

The faster I can get this over with, the sooner we'll be even, Hawkeye thought bitterly. He made for Charles' part of the tent and flumped down on his bunk.

"Charles," he said. "Listen, I'm sorry about what happened in the mess tent. It was stupid and I shouldn't have said it. I don't know what got into me, honest. But I'm sorry, I really am."

Nothing. Not even as much as a cold glare. Hawkeye decided he had done his best and got up from the bed. Just as he was about to leave the tent, Charles spoke out behind him in that conceited tone that always made Hawkeyes skin crawl.

"You're just envious, aren't you, Pierce?"

"Say that again?"

"Captain Clearwater looked straight through your shallow charm and decided to spend her time with someone a little more…" Charles paused dramatically to find just the right words, "worldly and sophisticated. You're not enough for her, and that's eating you up." He looked up, his blue eyes sparking in vanity. "Isn't that right?"

Ignore him, an inner voice, sounding suspiciously like BJ's, warned him. It's only fair to let him get back at you. Leave the tent, Hawk.

But Hawkeye didn't. He eyed Charles down, ignoring BJ Cricket in his ear.

"You know what, Charles? Every person needs a friend in this camp and since nobody else wants to get near you unless you paid them to, I don't grudge you her company. I rather hope for your sake that she doesn't discover the real you."

He left and let the door clatter behind him. Charles caught himself frowning, but then he huffed and returned to the book.

oOo

After the worst part of the apology was over, Hawkeye made it his full-time mission to find Agnes. It was more difficult than he imagined: She wasn't in her tent. She wasn't with Charles (Thank you, God) and BJ hadn't seen her either. When he finally did found her, it was at the last place he had planned to search. The Officers Club. Hawkeye rarely visited the Club in daylight: It sufficed no purpose to him, before the alcohol serving was allowed.

Agnes was sitting by herself at one of the small, round tables, writing a letter. Hawkeye donned his most charming smile and strolled inside.

"Hi. Remember me?" he said, taking the other chair opposite her. "I was the one sitting at your table around lunchtime with my foot in my mouth."

"How could I forget?" Agnes responded neutrally, scribbling on.

"You're absolutely right," Hawkeye nodded. "It was a moment of complete and utter foolishness from my side. But I'll have you know, I have cleared the air with Charles and everything is fine again."

Agnes dotted her last sentence and responded serenely: "Good."

"And I'm sorry if I made things awkward between you two. It won't happen again, cross my heart. You can go on enjoying each other's company, eating lunch together and-and… getting familiar. If that's what you had in mind?"

He observed her, rather hopefully, when Agnes looked up from her letter.

"Hawkeye, I'm not interested in Winchester."

"Oh?" Hawkeye said, placing his elbow on the table with an expecting smile.

"And I'm not interested in you either."

His face crashed right to the floor. "Oh…"

"Listen, Captain," Agnes said, folding her letter up. "Your flirting is flattering, but I have no interest in starting a romantic relationship here or any other place. To be honest I would rather that the two of us could be co-workers, instead of me having this feeling that you are only talking to me, because you're bored and by that you've turned me into some kind of seducing challenge against Major Winchester."

"Me? What gives you that idea?"

"Let me see," Agnes responded and started counting on her fingers: "Major Houlihan warned me about you this morning at breakfast… so did nurse Able, not to mention all the other six nurses at the table…"

"Okay," Hawkeye said, raising his palms in defeat. "I get the picture. But I'll have you know, I've changed. I'm not the man I was last week. They are spreading old news and you'd be a fool – no offence – for listening to them."

"Aha." Agnes smiled significantly and offered her hand across the table. "Call me a fool then. Co-workers?"

Hawkeye glanced at her, resembling a puppy that has just lost its favorite chew bone.

"Captain," he said. "You're breaking my heart."

"Rumor has it, it heals pretty fast."