It was unseasonably cold for mid-May on the day of the funeral. By the time they were standing at the gravesite, the wind had picked up. Erin kept complaining that she was "freezing" and she wanted to go home and snuggle with her dog. Hawkeye understood it was her fear and grief talking more than her actual discomfort.

He'd had to give a sedative to B.J., who was in such anguish that he was barely speaking. Whenever the situation called for B.J. to walk somewhere, Hawkeye had to put an arm around him and physically get him moving, then support him as they went. He was more like a ventriloquist's dummy than B.J. Hunnicutt.

Hawkeye had no idea how they all got through it, but they did. After the pastor's "ashes to ashes" speech, after the praying and the weeping, after Peg's coffin was lowered six feet into the ground, Hawkeye took his two charges and put them in the car and got them the hell home.

The wind ushered in cold rain, and the evening turned stormy.

*****

B.J.'s bedroom was dark. Hawkeye stepped in, certain his friend was awake. Sedative or not, he was doing a lot of tossing and turning as he lay there on his bed… what used to be his and Peg's bed.

Softly: "Beej?"

"Yeah."

"Want me to get you anything?" It was going on midnight and Erin had only just fallen asleep minutes ago. Hawkeye knew because he'd sat there by her bed, watching and waiting. She'd done a lot of crying as he stroked her hair and tried to soothe her with empty words. Then finally exhaustion had caught up with her and she'd conked out.

Now he turned his attention to B.J., who'd been so deep in despair he hadn't even been able to comfort his own daughter as they witnessed their precious Peg laid to rest. The whole day had been like a horrible dream, and by now Hawkeye was desperate for it to end.

"Just wondering," he prodded since B.J. wasn't answering, "if you need anything."

"Yeah. My wife back," B.J. bitterly replied.

Hawkeye had no response to that. In the darkness, he moved to the bed and sat down next to his friend, gently placing a hand on his chest. "You'll get through this, Beej. You will."

B.J. didn't say anything, but he took hold of Hawkeye's hand as it rested on his chest and gripped it tightly. To Hawkeye it felt as if he were hanging on like a man about to fall off a cliff.

"I can stay with you tonight if you want me to," he offered then, unaware he was going to say it until it came out of his mouth.

"Please," B.J. said, and Hawkeye stretched out next to him on the bed, pulling him close. It was as if the simple act of being held released something inside B.J., and he began to sob in Hawkeye's arms. For most of the day, B.J. had been stoic and dazed; now the pent-up emotions came out full force.

"I've got you, Beej. Let it out… I'm here and I've got you."

Like his daughter, B.J. cried for a long time and then finally drifted off as fatigue dragged him under. Although he was bone-tired as well, Hawkeye didn't follow his friend into sleep. His mind was on overdrive as jumbled thoughts kept leapfrogging over each other.

He'd already been gone from Crabapple Cove for almost a week, and he had no idea how long he was going to be staying out here in Mill Valley. As long as B.J. and Erin needed him, he supposed, but there was no clear answer to that. His dad was running the practice in his absence—his dad, who had retired from the practice less than a year ago. At least he was willing and able to fill in, which was a huge weight off Hawkeye's shoulders. But being AWOL like this… well, it couldn't go on indefinitely.

He couldn't imagine leaving B.J. in this condition. He was in bad shape, still in shock and nearly unable to function in his grief. It was going to take some time for him to get back to normal… if "normal" was even anywhere on the horizon at all.

His arm had gone to sleep so he shifted position, mindful not to awaken B.J. He got settled again and pulled his best friend close to him, inhaling his scent, so familiar after so much time spent living side by side. Literally side by side. Inappropriate as it was under the circumstances, part of Hawkeye acknowledged that he still had intense feelings for this man… feelings he'd been repressing for years. Feelings that had so overwhelmed him at times, he'd felt like he might be losing his mind. He'd often had to talk himself out of his own impulses. Best friend… married best friend… happily married best friend… who didn't give any indication that he would even remotely consider a romance with another man.

Falling in love is not a choice; it just happens. And when Hawkeye Pierce fell in love with B.J. Hunnicutt in the middle of the Korean War, it was not something he could turn off or get away from. It was always there with him. It was frustrating and excruciating and beautiful and amazing. Some days it made his heart soar and other days it made his heart sore. He lived right next to a man he could not have, but he wouldn't have traded a second of their time together for anything.

The fact that he managed to never confess his feelings was something he was ridiculously proud of. He'd taken all that torment and kept it hidden, valuing their friendship far too much to bring any awkwardness to it.

B.J. was, and remained, oblivious. But holding him now as he slept, breathing in the aroma that was so uniquely him, once again brought back that old internal struggle: the joy of being in love with him followed by the pain of not being able to express it.

Except for now, as B.J. slept, it was probably all right to say it… because it was something Hawkeye felt very much like saying at that moment. "I love you, Beej," he whispered in the dark, as the clock inched toward 1 a.m. "I love you and I'll take care of you. If you want, I'll stay here forever."

It was a good thing B.J. didn't hear him, because that turned out to be a hollow promise.