So here we come to Chapter Three! Be warned, this features Hawkeye going off the rails a bit. Some scenes may frighten young children, whom I doubt are reading this anyway.
Chapter 3 (Read the end of Chapter 2 if you can't remember exactly what happened.)
Note: Despite what you may think, and what I may write, this is a strictly Non-Slash Story. Affection only.
Trapper ran to where Hawkeye's crumpled body lay. His head was spinning. What happened? Why did Hawkeye suddenly collapse?
His shouts had attracted the attention of a few other people, who were crowding around Hawkeye. "Excuse me," he shouted as he wedged past the crowd to Hawkeye. He seemed to be breathing, which immediately put Trapper's mind at ease.
Trapper knelt beside his best friend and checked his breathing and pulse. They were irregular, but there.
"Hawkeye?" he quietly said. "Hawkeye! Hawkeye!" Trapper gently shook his friend. "Hawkeye! Oh, Hawkeye, please wake up, we need you now, please Hawkeye…"
Unfortunately for both, Frank Burns chose that particular moment to come across the scene.
"All of you! Away! Now!" He quickly shooed away the mob surrounding Trapper and Hawkeye, then cast his eye over the two. Trapper took no notice of him whatsoever, continuing to revive Hawkeye.
"McIntyre, what the hell are you doing? There are patients! There are choppers! Stop wasting your time!"
"What does it look like I'm doing, eating a ham sandwich? I'm trying to resuscitate Hawkeye! He's fainted!"
At that moment Trapper noticed a small flicker of movement, just a twitch, naught more, in Hawkeye's eyes. He pounced on this opportunity and began shaking him a little more violently, screaming his name.
"Hawkeye! Hawkeye, wake up, I know you're there!"
Hawkeye stirred, and gradually opened his eyes. "…what? What am I doing here?"
Trapper was overjoyed. "Hawkeye! Thank god for that, I was getting worried; now let's get you into Pre-Op." With the help of a nearby nurse, he got Hawkeye on his feet and helped him across the compound.
"Hey! Look at that!" Hawkeye cried.
Both Trapper and the nurse looked around. "What is it, Hawk?"
"Look! There's Klinger wearing a red ball gown!" Hawkeye pointed to the area just outside Margaret's tent. Klinger, however, was nowhere to be seen.
"Hawkeye, he's not there, now don't trouble yourself, you're nearly at Pre-Op," soothed the nurse, a new one whom Trapper didn't recognise. He'd flirt with her later.
"But he is! He's there!" Hawkeye was convinced he could see Klinger, but the nurse and Trapper glanced at each other, then at the area at which Hawkeye was pointing. Klinger would have stuck out like a cactus had he been there, however he was definitely not. Trapper and the nurse continued helping Hawkeye to Pre-Op.
As the three squeezed in the door, Trapper couldn't help but speculate as to what had caused Hawkeye to firstly collapse and secondly "see" Klinger, when he wasn't there. He shook his head and continued in the door, before turning his attention to patients.
Another evening, another round of casualties. The OR was operating fairly much as it normally did. Trapper, however, was keeping a close eye on Hawkeye. He'd protested strongly at Trapper's suggestion that he take a rest for a while. Hawkeye had been adamant that he was fine to operate and Trapper hadn't the strength to argue.
"Geez, look at all this shrapnel, this kid looks like he swallowed a whole ammo dump."
"Hawkeye, what are you talking about? There's nothing there!"
"Trapper! Are you blind? You see that shrapnel? There and there and there and there!" Hawkeye pointed at all the 'shrapnel,' desperate to get Trapper to see things his way.
"Hawkeye, I don't see anything!"
"Stop arguing with me and help fix this kid up."
"Colonel Blake! We need help here!"
"Trapper, I don't need help! I need to get this shrapnel out!"
"Hawkeye! THERE IS NO SHRAPNEL!"
"Hold it! What's all this about?" Henry had just stormed over, half-curious and half-angry.
"Sir, Hawkeye keeps seeing shrapnel, but there's none there."
"You're right, McIntyre. Hawkeye, let up, you're done."
Hawkeye felt very confused. Surely they couldn't see all the shrapnel, just lying there! Why wouldn't they listen to him?
"Look! There IS shrapnel!" Hawkeye grabbed his scalpel and started feverishly digging at the "shrapnel."
Trapper and Henry glanced at each other for naught more than a millisecond before each grabbed a hold on one of Hawkeye's arms, pinning them to his sides.
"What the hell are you doing? I – need – to – get – this – shrapnel – OUT!" he shouted, furiously attempting to free his arms.
Radar hurried in, holding a long length of rope. "I brought the rope to tie up Hawkeye, sir."
"Radar, would you get some rope to – oh, stop doing that!" Henry exclaimed as he took the rope and began tying up Hawkeye with it.
"LET ME OUT!" Hawkeye screamed.
Margaret chose this moment to storm over, thunderous.
"Can you get this man out of here? Some of us are trying to work!" she yelled at Henry, who was having a hard time keeping Hawkeye relatively still.
Trapper muttered a few choice words that would have shocked even the most hardened Marine.
Henry shouted above the din, "McIntyre, let's get him out."
The two managed to pick up a squirming and screaming Hawkeye and carry him out into the compound.
Once outside, they surveyed the wriggling figure from above. Henry turned to Trapper. "You have any idea what caused this?"
Trapper shook his head. "Nope. Maybe it was something he ate… but he's eaten the same stuff that I did, and I'm not shrieking about shrapnel in a patient that no one else can see…"
"In any case, I think he needs to be sedated," shouted Henry, raising his voice at the end as Hawkeye began a fresh round of screeching.
Trapper nodded his head and rushed inside the hospital. Three minutes later he returned with a needle filled with sedatives.
"I hate to do this," said Henry as he plunged the needle into Hawkeye's arm, "but we don't have a choice." He went back inside to dispose of it and presumably attend to patients. Trapper knelt down besides the now-sedated Hawkeye. He slowly undid the ropes binding his friend. Looking around, he quietly picked up Hawkeye and carried him back to the Swamp, where Trapper laid him on his cot.
Hawkeye's face seemed so peaceful, so at ease. Trapper couldn't help but smile at his best friend, his soulmate. For the first time, Hawkeye seemed utterly happy without also being utterly drunk, a fact not lost on Trapper.
Trapper gently stroked Hawkeye's hair. "You silly man, you… causing trouble for us… but we love you anyway." Trapper bent down and planted a soft goodnight kiss on Hawkeye's cheek.
"Sweet dreams, Hawk."
Trapper then poured himself a small martini and drained the glass as quickly as he'd filled it. Remembering that there were patients to treat, he quickly but quietly made his way out the door.
Little did Trapper know that things were about to get, for everyone, a whole lot worse…
Yep. I know, the end line sucks. :D Feed the manic review monster! Don't forget, you gotta write 'em to get 'em.