Author's Note: This takes place as a sequel to the first chapter of this story.

M*A*S*H: What If... Hawkeye died instead of Henry?

Hawkeye and Trapper sat in The Swamp, passing a ball back and forth. A rapid knocking came from the door.

"Come in!" Hawkeye shouted as Radar walked inside.

"Captains! Battalion Aid needs a doctor, and since Colonel Blake is back in Bloomington and Major Burns just became the CO, he can't go. So it's between you two." Radar said.

"Which one of us is gonna do it?" Trapper asked.

"How about we rock, paper, scissors for it?" Hawkeye replied.

"Okay, let's go." Trapper said. "Rock, paper, scissors, and shoot!"

Trapper's hand turned to a fist as Hawkeye's became a scissor. Hawkeye groaned and sighed.

"I guess I'm going." Hawkeye said.

"It won't be that bad." Trapper said.

"Sure it won't." Hawkeye said, as he grabbed his bag and a helmet.

"Jeep's waiting outside, sir." Radar said.

"Thank you, Radar." Hawkeye said as he walked to the jeep. "See you when I get back, Trapper."

Hours later, wounded began to filter into the 4077th and the doctors and nurses were busy in the OR. Trapper sighed as the nurse replaced his gloves.

"Who's next?" Trapper asked as he glanced down at his patient. His stomach sunk and he stepped back.

"What's wrong, doctor?" Margaret asked as she looked at the patient. "Oh god."

"Margaret, what's going..." Frank cut himself short as he saw the patient.

"Hawkeye..." Trapper said.

"Check for a pulse and prep him!" Margaret shouted.

The nurses began to prep Hawkeye as Frank started to check for a pulse. Trapper was pulling his mask on and grabbing his instruments.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Ginger asked.

"Yeah." Trapper said. "Frank! Prep him! Now!"

"McIntyre..." Frank started.

"I don't want to hear it, Frank! Get him ready!" Trapper shouted. "Get me a knife!"

"John..." Frank said, with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry. He's gone."

"Hawk..." Trapper sobbed.

Trapper sat in The Swamp, putting Hawkeye's things in a trunk. He held Hawkeye's robe and folded it. He put Hawkeye's martini glass in newspaper and packed it away. Frank walked into the tent.

"What do you want?" Trapper asked.

"Uh, McIntyre... I don't know how to say this..." Frank said.

"Then don't." Trapper said as he crossed the tent to grab Hawkeye's nudist magazines.

"You've gotten your orders. You can go home." Frank said.

"I'm not going." Trapper said.

"What?" Frank asked.

"I'm not going! Hawk doesn't go home, I don't." Trapper said.

"McIntyre! You can't just disobey the US Army!" Frank said.

"I don't care. Without me, you have one surgeon now that Henry's back home and Hawkeye is gone. You need me." Trapper said.

"Well, we are getting a replacement for Hawkeye. He's due in tomorrow. Captain B.J. Hunnicutt." Frank said.

"Then you have two surgeons, plus a green surgeon who probably knows nothing about meatball surgery. You need me."

"You have a wife and kids waiting for you back home! Don't you think I'd love to get home to my family? Sure, if I wasn't in a position of command, I'd jump at the chance to go back. See my mother again."

"And your wife and kids."

"Them too. What matters is that they need you."

"I'm staying and that's final! Because it should've been me!"

"What? What should've been you?"

"We rock, paper, scissored for it. I should've went. Hawkeye shouldn't have died."

"You had no way of knowing."

"This is my fault."

"No it's not. It's war! War is hell."

"It sure is."

"Trapper... is it okay if I call you that?"

"Sure."

"Trapper, you're a pretty swell guy."

"So are you, Frank."

The End