FYI - Yes, this does reference "The Light that Failed." I know it was earlier in the series, but I'm also going to reference "Changing of the Clerks", too. So, humor me a bit.
Also, it was mentioned way earlier in the series that Radar had a brother. Gave him his bear, if I'm not mistaken. But, that was conveniently left out when he went home on the series. I'm going to take that missing piece of info. and run wild! Hee, hee!
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The wounded had been incessantly coming without much of a break. Although it had been couple of weeks since Jessie was deemed well enough to leave post-op, she still tired easily. She would try to convince Radar she was fine, but somehow, he never believed her.
Charles also hovered like a mother hen. Her wounds had since heeled to angry red scars, fading to pink, but she had a hard time persuading him that she was feeling much better. Chalking it up to being his patient, Jessie would shrug him off. They were all tired, exhausted beyond disbelief.
That's also what she told herself when Hawkeye and Charles almost came to blows in post-op one evening while she was on duty.
"For once, think about your patient and not yourself!"
Jessie winced at Hawkeye's words as she and the other nurses watched them argue, the other wounded watching in awed silence.
After exchanging a few more harsh comments, Charles slammed into the chilly night. With curt instructions from Hawkeye on caring for the patient Charles had accidentally injected with a muscle relaxer – not morphine – Hawkeye continued with his rounds, muttering under his breath.
Jessie checked her watch and spoke to one of the nurses. "Hey, I'm going for coffee. Want any?"
"Nah, go ahead."
Jessie pulled off her lab coat. Once outside, she stopped to let her eyes adjust to the inky darkness. She wandered around the compound, wondering where he went, not knowing why she wanted to offer a few words of comfort, especially to the one person who acted the most distant.
Finally, she found him. At the motor pool, of all places. He was sitting with his boots planted firmly in the driver's seat. One hand rested casually across his knees while he propped his chin in his hands with the other, staring at his boots.
She approached him cautiously, trying to gauge his mood. She stopped a few feet from the jeep, and still he made no move to recognize her.
"Charles?"
He didn't look at her, continuing to study tops of his boots. "Have you come to berate me as well, Lieutenant?"
Jessie bit her lip. "I just thought . . ."
What exactly did she think? She cleared her throat, rubbing her arm absently with her other hand. "I think Pierce was a little rough on you back there."
"Radar will not be happy to know you're siding with me over Hawkeye. Might lower his esteemed judgment of you."
Jessie ignored his words, knowing by her own experience that they masked a deeper pain that wasn't proper to show. "Hawkeye can be just as bullheaded and a royal snob as you. Funny, because he has no patience for it in others."
Charles finally looked at her. "Is that what you think I am? Bullheaded and a royal snob?"
"At times. But, there's nothing wrong with that, especially if you can back it up with the talent and abilities you have as a surgeon."
"Hawkeye would argue with you on that point."
"Hawkeye could use the competition." Without thinking, Jessie reached out and took his hand. It was rougher than she thought it would be, and she turned it up, softly touching his palm.
It was hard to believe those fingers saved her life.
He watched her intently as she brushed her fingers over the tips of his own.
"We all make mistakes. You just pick yourself up and move on. That's all you can do. But, you have so much talent to give life in these hands. Don't waste it."
Desperate for a compassionate touch, he felt as if someone had let all the air out of his lungs. Without thinking, he reached out and brushed the hair away from her neck. The wound from the knife was almost healed, a puckered scar all that was left.
She didn't pull away from his touch. So, he pulled her against him and kissed her forehead gently. She lifted her chin, and he softly brushed his lips with hers.
Jessie fought the unusual urge to bury her head in his chest and let him protect her from this horrid place they all found themselves in.
Instead, she let him go and walked away, heart pounding within her chest.
Neither one knew they had an audience.
But, Radar was just glad it all made sense to him now.
****************************************
Finally, they got a break when fighting shifted elsewhere. Jessie was glad for the break, planning to sleep for a week.
But, somehow, Radar finagled a three day pass to Seoul from the Colonel for the both of them. Exhaustion disappeared at the thought of a temporary escape from camp. She was packed in less than an hour.
****************************************
Jessie stood precariously on a chair, shaking what was left of a bottle of champagne, her thumb over the opening. "You get near me with that, and I swear, Walter Eugene O'Reilly, I will spray this all in your face!"
Radar was standing behind a loveseat, a bottle of shaving cream in his hands. He faked to the left, and Jessie jumped off the chair, shrieking.
"I still haven't got you back for dumping that cold water on me in the shower," he said. Jessie vaulted over the loveseat and landed on the floor behind it, laughing. Radar snuck near the couch and made his move.
"Ah-ha!" he said, pointing the shaving cream behind the furniture. Jessie wasn't there. "What the . . .?" he said, scratching his head in confusion. A spray of champagne hit him on his back, and he yelped.
Jessie was standing behind him, triumphantly pointing the bottle of him. "Gotcha!" she said smugly.
"Wanna bet?" He pointed the shaving cream at Jessie and fired, but Jessie ducked into the bedroom out of the way, shrieking. Shaving cream went all over the wall. Before she could slam the door, he wedged the shaving cream can in the door.
Her ammunition empty, Jessie let go of the door and jumped on the rumpled bed, grabbing a pillow and holding it in front of her. Radar, leaning hard against the door, fell into the bedroom. He saw Jessie standing defiantly on the bed and laughed.
"Am I supposed to be scared of that?" he asked, crossing his arms in front of him, the shaving cream still in one hand. He pointed the shaving cream can at her, and Jessie yelped, holding the pillow in front of her. But all the can did was spit a few weak sprays onto the floor.
"Ha, now you're out of ammo!" Jessie said, then hit Radar with the pillow right on his arm.
"Oh, yeah?" he said. He lowered his head and tackled Jessie. They fell across the bed, laughing uproariously.
"Hey, shut up over there!" a muffled voice said through the wall. The picture above the bed moved as their disgruntled neighbor banged on the wall.
They got quiet for a moment, then dissolved into laughter again. Jessie tried to stifle her laughter with the pillow.
Radar tossed the pillow aside.
Later, Jessie lay with her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. He had his arm wrapped around her and was playing with her hair with one hand. She propped her chin on his chest.
"You know, this has been a good vacation," she said, kissing his cheek. "Thanks for talking Col. Potter into it."
"How'd you know?" he asked incredulously.
Jessie snuggled closer. "I just did," she said. "I'm clairvoyant, you know?"
Radar snorted.
They heard muffled ringing from the living room and both started at the foreign noise. "I guess we have to answer that, don't we?" Radar said, disappointed.
Jessie reached for the phone on her side of the bed, but remembered they had unplugged it two days ago. She made a face, then wrapped a blanket around herself against the chill in the room and stumbled into the sitting room.
She found the phone underneath some cushions from the loveseat. "Hello?" she said, breathlessly.
"For God sakes, girl, I've been trying to call you for the past four hours! Where have you been?" Col. Potter bellowed.
Jessie opened her mouth to answer.
"Never mind, I don't want to know. Listen, you and Radar need to get back to camp pronto."
Jessie was disappointed, but their three days in Seoul were almost up, anyway. "Wounded?" she asked, pulling the blanket tighter around her bare shoulders.
Col. Potter sighed. "I sure wish it was."
Jessie sat up straight. "What's wrong?" She thought fleetingly of Charles and wondered why.
"No," Col. Potter answered tiredly. "Look, I think he needs to hear it from you and not over the phone from me." He paused. "We received a telegram this morning that Radar's Uncle Ed died three days ago. Heart attack. And, his older brother's run off. His mom's on her own."
Jessie sucked in a breath. "Good God," she whispered.
Col. Potter cleared his throat. "There's more. Radar needs to get back here and sign these hardship discharge papers."
Jessie's heart froze.
"Just tell him, and you two get back here on the double," Col. Potter said gruffly, then hung up the phone.
Jessie listened to the dial tone for a second, then softly put the phone back in the cradle. She jumped when Radar touched her shoulder. She turned around and looked into his trusting blue eyes, wishing she could protect him from what she had to tell him.
"Sit down, Walter," she said, patting the seat beside her.
He sat, his eyes never leaving hers. "Is there something wrong at camp?"
There was no easy way to do this. "Your Uncle Ed died of a heart attack three days ago," she blurted out.
Radar's face went pale as Jessie watched. She reached out and took his hand. "I'm so, so sorry."
He took a deep breath to steady himself and squeezed her hand.
She continued. "Your brother's also disappeared again," She stopped, her heart hammering in her chest, then looked away. "Col. Potter wants you to get back to camp to sign a hardship discharge. You'll be home in three days tops."
Radar ran a hand through his hair, soaking in what Jessie had said.
"You're going home," she said. She tried to look happy about it, but the thought of him leaving her in Korea hurt, as selfish as it sounded.
He shook his head. "I-I can't go home," he said, standing up and pacing the room. Jessie watched him, helpless. "Everyone needs me! You know what a terrible clerk Klinger is. In fact, that place is probably already in a shambles! He doesn't know how to do anything!" He stopped pacing and looked at Jessie.
"I can't leave you here, either," he said, sitting down once again next to her. She put her head on his shoulder as they leaned back on the loveseat.
"It's home! It's what we all dream of. And, if you stay here because of me, I'll make your life a living hell!" She poked him in the ribs, trying to lighten the moment, but he just held her closer, breathing in the scent of her.
As much as Jessie wanted to stay right there, she pried herself away from him. "C'mon, let's go pack," she said, pulling him off the loveseat.
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Radar spent the short ride back to camp telling Jessie stories about his uncle. Although she would laugh at the appropriate parts, her heart wasn't in it. She knew he had to leave, but the thought of him going already made her lonely, although he was sitting next to her.
"You know, I still can't believe he's gone," he would say.
Jessie would squeeze his hand in return, not knowing what to say. She couldn't imagine being this far away from home and someone in her family dying. The thought of it made her homesick.
They arrived in camp late in the evening. He carried her bags to her tent for her.
"You want me to go with you?" she asked, turning before she entered her tent. She couldn't see the look on his face in the dark, but saw him shake his head. He kissed her softly, then disappeared into the night.
Jessie sighed, throwing her bags into her tent. She straightened her coat and went to report to Major Houilihan.
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"You what?" Col. Potter roared.
Radar flinched at his tone. "You heard me, sir, I'm staying," he said softly, looking down at his hands.
"Of all the cockeyed things I've heard, this takes the cake!" Col. Potter huffed. "Look, this war will go on without you. Go home!"
Radar shook his head.
"So, what does Jessie have to say about it?" Col. Potter said, peering down at his company clerk.
"I don't have to ask Jessie's permission!" Radar said, staring defiantly at the Colonel. "Besides, she told me to go, or she'd make my life a living hell.
"I don't doubt it. So, I can't change your mind?"
"No sir," Radar mumbled. He eyed the mess in Col. Potter's office. Klinger's on the loose again.
"Fine, dismissed, then."
***********************************
Jessie burst into Radar's office the next morning after spending all night in surgery. "I just heard the strangest thing."
Radar was trying to make sense out of the mess in his office courtesy of Klinger. He didn't dare look up.
"I heard that you were staying. What the hell are you thinking?"
Radar slammed the pile of papers on his desk. "Look, you're the fifth person that's come in here to yell at me! Just get it over with, so I can get back to work!"
"Yell at you?" Jessie yelled back. "I was thinking more along the lines of throttling you! How can you run around here and act like you're the be all and end all of this camp? This war will go on with or without you! With or without any of us!" She threw her hands up in the air.
Radar rubbed his tired eyes. "Look, can we talk about this later?"
"We're going to talk about this now!" Jessie glared. "Why in the world do you want to stay? Is it Klinger?" she put both hands on his desk and leaned down to face him. "Let me tell you something. From what I heard, you were awful at this job when you first started, too. You're not the savior of the 4077th. Your mother needs you! Go home!"
Radar pushed himself angrily from his desk and turned to face her. He was surprised to see tears falling down her face, and his anger faded.
Jessie was mad at herself for crying. She raised her head defiantly.
"What about you?" he asked quietly. She still looked mad, so he didn't make any moves towards her.
"I'll live," she said, more flippantly than she felt. "Plus, I've got everyone else here with me. Your mom doesn't have anybody."
Radar's shoulders sagged in defeat. He knew she was right. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. She didn't fight him.
"I'm not crying because I don't want you to go," she said, her voice muffled in his jacket. "I'm crying because. . . I'm crying because I'm going to miss you."
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Twelve hours later, Radar's bags were packed. The camp was abuzz with activity, but it was activity that he had no part of. Just before his farewell party, wounded arrived in the camp. He wandered around, waiting for his jeep to arrive to take him home.
Home. It still sounded strange. He had come to think of this dingy place as home, and he took in all the sights as he walked through.
He finally came to the OR and stopped at the door, peering into the window. Everyone was hard at work. He spotted Jessie at Hawkeye's table and smiled to himself, fingering the velvet box in his pocket. He was prepared to pop the question at his party, but the wounded arrived. I don't want to ask her this way. Wearily, he turned away.
Jessie looked up in time to see him turn and go. There hadn't been any time for good-byes. The entire time he was packing, Jessie made herself scarce, telling him she was just staying out of his way. She was afraid she would try to convince him to change his mind back into staying, and Col. Potter would have her hide if she did. She sniffed.
"Oh, go on out there," Hawkeye said, throwing a bloody sponge on the floor. "You're crying all in this poor kid's stomach."
Jessie looked expectantly at Major Houilihan for permission. "Go on, Lieutenant, but be quick about it," she said curtly.
Jessie didn't have to be told twice. She flew out of OR, pulling her bloody scrubs off as she went.
She ran out into the compound and looked around. Had she missed him?
She finally spotted him across camp climbing into a waiting jeep. He looked up and saw her and started her way.
She flew into his arms and pressed her lips to his.
Breathless, he pulled away. "I love you, Jess," he said, burying his face in her hair. He thought fleetingly of the ring in his pocket, then dismissed the idea. As soon as she is back in the States . . .
"I love you, too." Pulling back and sniffing, she straightened his jacket. He grabbed her hands and held them together, kissing them.
Jessie smiled through her tears. "Just be careful, OK? None of this getting killed stuff before you even get home."
He pulled her into his arms again and held her tight. He driver in the jeep honked his horn annoyingly. They ignored it. "I still don't like leaving you here," he whispered.
Jessie tried not to cling to him. "I'll be fine, don't worry about me," she said, pulling back. I think. "Now, get going! I think you're driver's going home without you!"
Reluctantly, he climbed into the jeep. With a puff of smoke, they pulled away. Jessie watched the jeep until it disappeared.
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Several long, tedious hours passed before the wounded stopped coming. Jessie exited the OR with the other weary nurses, who all dispersed to their beds immediately. Without realizing what she was doing, Jessie found herself at the mess tent. She froze with her hand on the knob when she realized what she had done. Shaking her head, she changed course.
Hawkeye and B.J., in various stages of relaxation, didn't even budge when she entered and forlornly flopped on a crate. She put her chin in her hands and sighed. Fleetingly, she was glad Charles wasn't there.
B.J. handed her a full martini glass. "Looks like you need a drink."
Jessie accepted the drink gratefully and downed it in three swallows, shuddering at the taste. "You guys know what I just did?"
Hawkeye spoke up from behind his newspaper. "Went to the mess tent like you and Radar always did after surgery."
Jessie looked surprised. "How did you know?"
B.J. gestured out the door. "Saw you from here."
Jessie blew the hair out of her face. "You know, although he's been gone almost a day, that's the first time it's hit me." She held out her empty glass for a refill. "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't wish this place on anybody." She gratefully took another swallow after B.J. refilled her glass. "It's just that it made this place almost bearable, somehow."
"Go easy on that stuff. It'll rot the paint off your throat," Hawkeye said, folding his paper and tossing it beside his cot. "This war won't last forever, you know. Soon, you'll be back home, then you and Radar can get married and have lots of little near-sighted babies and live happily ever after."
Jessie played absent-mindedly with the empty glass in her hands. "He bought a ring when we were in Seoul."
B.J. choked on his drink. Hawkeye rose and grabbed her left hand, inspecting it.
"Either that's the smallest ring in the world, or you said no."
She paused, rubbing her tired eyes. "He never asked."
"How do you know that he bought it, anyway?" B.J. said, recovering from his choking fit.
"While we were on R&R, the jeweler called the room before he got back. Apparently, he left something in the store, but walked back inside as I was talking to the jeweler." She blew her hair out of her face again. "I told him not to tell Radar he had talked to me."
B.J. huffed into his mustache. "I seriously doubt he forgot. Maybe he was waiting for the right moment, but with all the wounded -" He waved his hand in the air.
Hawkeye was studying Jessie. "So, what would you have said if he had asked?"
Jessie was fiddling with a button on her shirt. "I hadn't really thought much about it. This place has a way of making you think only in the present tense and not the future." She stood up wearily, handing him her empty glass. "Thanks for the booze."
As they captains watched her go, B.J. spoke up. "I bet you two weeks' pay that he was going to ask her at his farewell party."
Hawkeye shuffled over to the still. "Damn war," he mumbled, pouring himself a drink into Jessie's empty glass.