Thanks again to Ra-da-R, Mary and NY Gal. To Mary, Brenda owes him an apology and letter reaches her in couple weeks time. Ragni, I never mentioned but either Marines or Army and I am pretty sure both use 'scuttlebutt'. I'm gonna hit the sack now, after updating. I might sleep right upto the time I have to go back to work again so enjoy this chapter and ignore typos. I'll edit after I wake up!

Enjoy!

Chapter 83

BJ stared at me quietly. I stared back just as silently.

"What's this scuttlebutt?" He asked me, looking me in the eye.

"So you've heard as well." I answered with mock surprise.

"What did you think? What's going on?" He wasn't amused.

"Something somebody cooked up and decided to spread as a public service announcement, 'Stay away from Hawkeye Pierce. He's armed and dangerous.'" I shook my head in amusement and disbelief.

"Aren't you taking this a little lightly, Hawk?" BJ asked me with enough seriousness to make me smile.

"Beej, I'm not taking it a little lightly. The thing is, there are bigger problems in front of me and besides, I didn't do anything so it will all blow over."

"Are you sure? I mean, maybe you accidentally nicked the artery? You told me you got blood in your eyes right off the bat." BJ asked me with trepidation, reminding me of his mistrust when it came to Margaret only a few days back.

"You don't wanna trust me Beej, don't trust me. Alright? I'm done trying to explain myself to you. You think I would lie to you about a patient, maybe you need to reevaluate a few things, pronto!" I spoke tiredly and without intentional menace but change in BJ's facial expressions told me my restraint wasn't what it was cranked up to be. I couldn't care less.

"Maybe if you stop being so selfrighteous..." I hardly ever snapped at BJ but his tone really got to me this time.

"Beej! You wanna paint me into an untrustworthy, lying scumbag, go ahead. Do it. Somebody in the unit is probably already ordering the jackets for that club. Aim is to completely nail my coffin shut. Just don't lecture me on selfrighteousness." I told him in no uncertain terms before getting up from the chair and going to Johnson, "And yeah, I am taking this shift. You are relieved!"

"Fine! Page me when you need me." He retorted heatedly before leaving the post-op.

So much for missing him...

Was this all actually real? It all seemed surreal, like a really bad nightmare. Sometimes, reality was much worse than the nightmares, like the one I had earlier today. Shaking my head to forget the memory of the past long forgotten and the reminders of it, I checked out everything about Johnson. Fever was there. He looked toxic. The toxins from shrapnel were gonna take time to wash out. They needed to be processed by liver and kidneys and both these organs – all three actually – suffered some heavy insults since the kid landed here. To say that he drew a short straw was an understatement. First reports of blood cultures were not expected for another twenty four hours and in any case, I was giving him max doses for both antibiotics currently available to us here. Other antibiotics were out of stock and it would be too late before they got here. I still asked Radar to make sure next somebody sent us some of their stock, if only for first three four doses of each of the missing ingredients.

I waited for something good to happen but nothing did. By the end of the day, not only had his bowel sounds not returned, his abdomen was getting rigid. Frank came at seven and just puffed and scoffed and then disappeared sometime during the night.

It was one of the longest nights of my life and yet, I wasn't glad when it was over because Johnson was showing not a single sign that he might improve, let alone a sign of actual improvement.

I just sat there, trying to figure out how – IF – I had missed a perforation.

''I ran the gut twice!'

'It has happened before, you cocky sonofabitch!'

'That was a fluke.'

'And what makes you think this isn't?'

'But I can't go in again without risking his life.'

'And whose fault is that?'

I was sure I hadn't missed any perforation. Could the toxins from shrapnel be causing the peritoneal irritation? It was possible but the fever pointed towards an active infection and the best place was the belly, gut contents being the perfect medium for bacterial growth.

Was I ready to give up on this kid?

One look at his buddy and I was reminded of a promise I had made a lifetime ago; that I would care for him and his friend. Billy's injuries were deceptive and were followed by a series of unfortunate events that may have belonged in a morbid fantasy but like I always knew, reality had a way of being much worse than morbid imagination or nightmares even.

"How's he now?" It was Margaret who shook me out of my aimless thoughts.

"Not good!" I looked at Peter who was staring at me for who knows how long.

"What happened?"

"He's developing signs of peritoneal irritation."

"Peritonitis?" There was fear in her voice.

Welcome to my world!

"Yeah."

"But you did an exploratory..."

"Yeah. And gut was clean. Or so I thought at that time."

"Could you have missed a perforation?"

"Ran the gut twice, Margaret. And BJ was with me."

"Could it be hidden? Like that ..."

"It may have been, Margaret. What difference does it make? Fourth surgery in less than twenty four hours? I would do it if it means... It won't change anything. Look at his breathing effort. And pressure. He will die on table."

"Hawkeye I know would never..."

"Give up? I haven't given up, Margaret. I'm seriously thinking of opening him up again. I'm just telling you of the most likely scenario."

"Where's BJ?"

"I relieved him earlier."

"I thought you were going to let him take the shift while you rested?"

"Its not his shift. Its Frank's." She made a face when I said that.

"What's going on, Pierce?" Margaret asked me in her most suspicious tones.

"Going on...? This kid is very sick and I'm waiting for some antibiotics to arrive in next hour otherwise I open him again."

"Between you and BJ?"

"Nothing. He thinks O'Hara may have a point about me nicking his PA when I opened him earlier." I gave her the short version.

"O'Hara said WHAT?" Margaret looked stunned.

"NOT SO LOUD, Margaret! I don't know the story but the scuttlebutt is, I nicked the pulmonary artery 'right off the bat' and lied about it. Frank probably let it slip to some choice audience. Or maybe Cate did. Before you, I was the last one to know.

"And BJ believes her?"

"Maybe a little."

"She's lying. Right? She IS lying, isn't she?"

"Maybe she is. Maybe Frank is. If you're asking me about the validity of this story, I can assure you its a load of crap!"

"You stay here! I'll be right back."

Before I could stop her, Margaret was gone.

Pity the soul that came in her path though I had a good idea who that soul might belong too.

Despite the seriousness of this situation, I could not help but smile.