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Hawkeye stood in OR, looking down at his patient. To his left, Colonel Potter and Charles were already working on BJ. He heard their small murmurings to the nurses but nothing else. It was driving him crazy.
The bullet had hit Klinger at the worst possible spot. It had grazed his lower leg bone, breaking it, and buried itself deep into the muscle. Because of an anesthetic shortage there was no way to put him completely under, so it was only local.
"Geeze Captain, I thought you were fixing me up." Klinger breathed, biting back a shout of pain as Hawkeye twisted the bullet out. He held up the slimy red mass and dropped it into a waiting container before taking out a few more fragments. Then Hawkeye looked up at Klinger.
"This is really going to hurt Klinger." He said quietly, never taking his eyes off Klinger's. "You ready? On my mark ―" He twisted quickly, snapping the bone back in place.
A howl of pain was let out, lasting for a split second before the man bit his tongue, tears squeezing out of his eyes. Hawkeye shook his head and started wrapping up the wound in a splint.
"You won't be able to walk for a couple of weeks Klinger." Hawkeye's voice was flat except for a small hitch that showed that he was deeply concerned for someone else.
Again Klinger wrapped his hands around Hawkeye's wrist as he finished with the bandaging. "I'm fine. Look after BJ." He glanced around Hawkeye at the still doctor. "Help him." A quick squeeze on the wrist before he gently got down, putting his weight on a chair.
Charles looked at BJ and tried to forget who it was. Bag after bag of blood was being hooked up to an IV, but would it be enough? He had lost so much blood that he shouldn't even be alive. The lost blood was drying in a pool just to the left of where he stood. There was so much of it. So, so much.
For the first time ever, Charles thought he would be sick during the operation. A wave of nausea washed over him as his hands and the wound came in and out of focus. He had cut open the stomach and was searching for the bullet. He wanted to get out of there. He wanted for none of this to have happened.
He closed his eyes for a second, allowing the horrible feeling to flood him before making it go away. He was still in control. He would make sure Hunnicutt lived.
Charles found the bullet. It was a miracle it hadn't pierced any major organ. He extracted it, plunking into a dish along with a few pieces that had been left behind.
Another quick stitch and the wound was closed. His part was done. All he could do now was pray. He went out the double doors and collapsed onto the bench. He pressed his face into his hands and cried.
Some time later Charles looked up. Hawkeye was standing there. His eyes wide and pleading. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. His eyes broke Charles' heart.
I don't know if BJ's living, so don't ask. Just review, okay?