Later that night, after dodging five MPs around Post-Op, I quietly snuck into the Supply Room, ignoring the pain and anguish I felt and longing for something gentler than Simmons. Earlier, I had a shift and they were watching me closely on Henry's orders before I shadowed away to meet up with something I knew would never chase away the blues completely. Although the MPs were always in the way of everything and I was getting highly annoyed by their bumbling actions around the beds, I still felt claustrophobic as I took the easy way out. Henry's had them around me since we had that meeting in his office earlier in the day. He seemed too concerned for me that I had what seemed like a million MPs up my behind. I didn't appreciate it.
Hopefully, Hawkeye and I were going to be alone and the coat hanger on the door heeded. Since I promised him another night in the Supply Room (despite him being worried about going fast and it being too soon after Simmons had his way with me), I had to find some way to get the hell out of the MPs' (as well as Henry's) sight with the added distraction of my own. I found my window of opportunity when another one of their kind came in and said that they had spotted Simmons around the camp and that Klinger was hindering their efforts.
"Damn fool was in a dress again," the MP mentioned at the end of my shift as he and the others started for the door of Post-Op. "The high heels that he was wearing broke as he ran, had him tumbling into the latrines' side wall. Created a whole mess of men behind him, some sort of traffic jam. It disturbed Major Burns, who was inside reading his new edition of National Geographic. Tipped the whole thing over and everything. After getting this fugitive, we have to clean it up, on Major Burns' orders."
As they turned their backs to see to Simmons (and Klinger and Frank, if I must say, despite the mess), I ran in the opposite direction. Dropping off my reports for the night on the desk and letting the next nurse know what was going on and who needed what, I ran out of Post-Op.
I realized with a start how much of a mess my life was becoming, especially with Simmons added to the equation. Simmons had made me so scared of my own life and I wasn't going to let him rule my life by fear, although I have walked in the darkness and condemned myself towards the pathway without redemption. I had to run towards Simmons and face him someday, even if it would kill me. However, I couldn't run away from my fears forever, to keep the shame of rape in my mind, and had to keep going with my life as if it had not mattered. I had a future to look forward to, if I could enjoy it, and it wasn't the past that was going to hold me down.
Even without the MPs, as well as my personal hell, bothering me, I was also in charge of supplies for the next week and a half or more, depending on Margaret's mood. I grabbed a clipboard with the recent supply lists from the desk on the way out of Post-Op and did my duty for the night quickly before Hawkeye came, to make me forget everything that had happened. Work always came before play of course, but doing that work as fast as possible was always a plus, especially when one was longing for someone who can make things right again and thinking that it might not even last long. It made time blow by and the long-awaited event come closer with each step away from my hauntings.
It didn't even take Hawkeye long to find out I was there though. After a few minutes of checking the supplies, thinking out what we needed and what was missing, I heard a door open and close with a clang behind it. I soon felt some arms around me and a small bite on my neck. A surge of energy went down through my body and I giggled, although my mind was screaming not to give in to it. I knew who it was.
"I thought you'd never come," Hawkeye said, nuzzling his face into my pillow of messy hair, finally cleaned from the fire.
"You know I always will, even if I was miserable," I replied, finding his ear with my teeth as I turned my head to find him, our heads connected together finally. "I seem to have the canniest ability to find a way out, even with the guards on my tail."
"Oww, Jeanie," Hawkeye teased back. He went for my neck again, ignoring my last sentence.
I then dropped the clipboard, finding nothing new to report to Margaret about the supplies…for the time being.
"Oww what, Hawkeye? Did I hurt you that badly?"
"With your hands, maybe. Are they still hurting?"
"Maybe, maybe not. I've been ignoring them all day."
"You shouldn't."
"Can I help myself? I have to think of others before myself."
Everything for me seemed to be surreal, like it was not me, and I had to be certain that I was still me as I played and danced around with my lover. In the meantime, I made sure that Hawkeye missed my neck as I turned around and practically jumped deeper and deeper into his arms, my hands aching to be inactive. I was panting in his ear with quick breaths and whispering how much I loved him and that we need a quiet, shadowy corner…quickly. Forgetting Simmons for the time being and pretending that it never happened, I was ready for some action, proving that even I was hungry for some comfort. My mother would have called me a whore and worse, even if it was all just to keep my mind from walking away from me.
I got my wish within an instant. Hawkeye, walking backwards with me still in his arms, led me to the most concealed corner of the Supply Room, where shelves met each other to make a tidy crevice. There was a space for us and privacy within reach. Within seconds of being there (no, it was milliseconds, I should say, since seconds seem too long of a time), we danced to an ancient familiar tune, the same from the last time we were there. We dangled our legs here and there like puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly, tangling our arms in embraces that we could barely get out of. The kisses were as delicious as ever and the ecstasy of it was amazing.
It took away that piece of my mind that saw the shame and mistakes of my past and made better memories. Although it was registered as one of the worst of my life, I kept this as the best. I was an actress after all, to keep the best act for the public. Private tragedy always awaited me later, when I was alone in the nurses' tent.
Despite the cold Korean winter (and taking all of our clothes off) and my recent rapes and the burns on my hands (brushing them off and forgetting them), the two of us enjoyed each other immensely that night. For me, being in Hawkeye's arms melted away all of my senseless troubles, fears and stress, even if it was for a while. The heat warmed me up immediately. My ear was next to where his heart was and it comforted me after a few minutes of teasing games and love. Being close to him, all and all, was making me complete, the same way Falk made me feel so long ago. Being totally in love…
Still completely naked and warm under a blanket as the heavy winds rocked the building back and forth with ease, the both of us suddenly jumped when we heard a crash on the other side of the Supply Room. I scampered back into my discarded clothes immediately after throwing the blanket to one side (damning Margaret and her regulations on not using supplies without proper authorization first). Hawkeye followed my example just as quickly as he cursed under his breath about privacy and the cold and wind. He then hurdled close next to me (dressed in record time) when we heard another crash. That time, it was closer to where we were sitting and without showing a single shadow. However, we saw and heard nothing more. There were no shadows, no animals coming out or even the feel of the bitter wind coming through the cracks of the building. It was almost like ghosts had been visiting us.
"It's not Henry," Hawkeye whispered frantically as I jumped again, wrapping his arms around me once more and chewing on my left ear. "He wouldn't do that to you, would he?"
"No, he knows better." I squinted again, looking in to the opposite side of the room, trying to figure out what could make so much noise. "Besides, Henry would have been tripping over everything and making himself known by now because he's so clumsy, drunk and uncoordinated most of the time. Plus, you're a friend of his. Would he do this to you? No, he wouldn't. He's more sensible and has more taste than that."
"Trapper is sleeping and Frank is with Hot Lips," Hawkeye mused.
"Maybe it's a mouse or an animal or something?"
"A Tom Peeper in the camp?"
"Radar who needs to know about the birds and bees?"
"Trapper sleepwalking?"
Ours suggestions were moot. My heart suddenly turning to fear when I realized that my words were hollow as much as Hawkeye's had been, a few lies to each other for sure. I knew who it could possibly, but I didn't want to say anything to Hawkeye about it because of his temper. I wanted to keep the moments as blissful as possible and ignore the noise on the other side of the room. I wanted to stop time and go back five minutes, to be at the moment where my head laid on Hawkeye's bare chest with my cheek at his own heart, but I could not. I was hopelessly being pushed into the future.
Hawkeye shook his head as he backed away from my ear, his arms losing their grip around my body. He knew the possibility that I had in mind perhaps, but it was not likely that he thought it true.
"Let's get out here," he finally concluded, not wanting to know about what the source of the noise was. "Check on the supplies again and satisfy Major Baby. Meet me back in Post-Op when you're done. I'm sure Henry is going crazy just trying to find us again. We've been missing for a while now and the fuss about Frank's latrine adventure should be over by now."
I nodded with agreement, watching Hawkeye exit the Supply Room quickly, jogging and then running away, the coat hanger in his hands as soon as he grabbed the doorknob. Then, I myself looked from the doors to the other side of the Supply Room again, staring into the darkness.
"You can come out now, Simmons," I said out loud to the jumping lights and shadows around me, addressing them as if there was really someone there. "We're done here. Show's over. You can go outside and meet the MPs and Klinger and give yourself up, if you choose to. Otherwise, stick it. You've caused enough trouble already, with your attacks, arson and Tom-peeking. It can stop now."
Idiot that I always am, I got up and walked towards the trouble and then stopped. Was it worth it to confront him? What could I do that a group of MPs could not do? What could I do that I could not do before, when I was transfixed upon the dangerous prospects head of me?
I knew that Simmons was there somehow, watching and waiting for me to come closer. There was no doubt in my mind. However, it was time to face up to my deepest fears and continued the path I chose to walk down. No man should be controlling my life like that, guiding me to the depths of the human soul. He can't be controlling the strings of my mind and heart. I was my own woman and should not let somebody shadow and direct me…making me jump…playing with my mind. It was time for that to stop because history could not be repeated for a third time. I could not afford it anymore.
I was headstrong. I would get out of it alive. I am a survivor. I had been through worse than Simmons.
I ran towards the action, my fist ready to strike.