Hello All. I'm back, sorta. Just ended the long haul from hell though it seems it will start again sometime next week. I will probably write some more this weekend in case I cannot sleep and sleep is what I need right now. Just want to thank any and all who patiently waited and even those who left and would return now that I'm back. Thanks to Ragni, Symphony and NY Gal for reviewing Chapter 84. Reviews will be greatly appreciated because they might be the single most important reason for me to write some more over the weekend.

Anyway, hope you enjoy it. Let me know of any typos or mistakes. Will fix them later.

Chapter 85

I knew I was asleep and yet, I knew that what I was seeing was very real. The noise had returned. I got up from my bed and closed the window and still could hear the noise. I buried my head under my pillow and it was useless. The noise was still there. It was pitiful. Gut wrenching. It screamed of hopelessness. And what was worse, it screamed of accusation.

You did this to me!

You did this.

Now I'll die...

I woke up in a cold sweat and my first instinct was to check on Johnson but before that, I checked my watch. It was hardly ten in the morning. Feeling very tired but with the worst of exhaustion behind me, I felt unable to go to sleep again and the next logical thing to do was to check on my patient so I got out and performed some perfunctory rituals that followed regular awakenings before heading for post-op.

BJ wasn't there. He was out to get some coffee and Margaret was looking a little smug, whatever the reason might have been. I knew that kicking asses made her feel complete but like so many other thoughts, I held this one for deliberation at a more leisure time.

"How is he?"

"You look awful!" She smiled at me. This greeting was getting tiring and fast but I ignored the implications.

"And you look chipper than before. Its refreshing but we can discuss its effects on my physiology over a drink at a later time." I told her as I picked Johnson's chart and went through the numbers. The situation seemed to have improved or at the least pleateaued which was encouraging and relieving.

"He's doing so much better, Pierce." She spoke in her best 'I told you so' tone and smiled.

I bent over Johnson and nudged him awake to ask him a few questions and listened to his chest and abdomen. Abdomen was silent but relatively soft.He was doing fairly well, all things considered.

"Good job, Margaret! You're the best." I gave her my best charming smile. She smiled in return.

"Pierce...," She stopped after speaking my name then spoke again as I looked at her questioningly, "Nothing. Just remember, BJ might come and want to talk and if you give him any smartass answers, you'll have me to contend with!"

"What are you? My mother?" I asked her smilingly, enjoying her pushy style.

"Pierce!" She threateningly pointed her finger at me and I conceded, the good feeling of the moment riding over the slight annoyance at her interference. That led to me wondering how BJ let her talk to him especially if she used this tone with him as well. I knew that BJ had some strict ideas about who could talk to him about what and in what kind of tone and it was strange to think she had given him the royal kickass treatment without him snapping.

"Few women can do that to me and get away with it. Its very stimulating." I smiled as I saw her cheeks flush and stepped out of dangerzone very fast. That didn't stop her from shrieking my name as I left post-op again.

It was pointless to go to bed again. I knew the nightmare too well. We were old acquaintances. I had a feeling it would come back and devour this short spell of relative tranquility and decided to enjoy the slight relaxation and relief I was feeling for now instead of losing it to a nameless, faceless demon.

Frank wasn't in the Swamp. My thoughts shifted towards the claim he was making about me nicking the pulmonary artery. Under ordinary circumstances, things tended to happen during surgeries and were taken care of right away. The only surgeons with zero complications were the ones who never operated or operated but had no survivors but Frank's claim or more accurately, Cate's observation was preposterous.

That's not the only reason, Doctor Pierce.

I agreed with that statement. This was a direct assault on my skill, expertise, professional integrity and my ego. The audacity of their lie infuriated me every time I even thought about it. Billy's recovery was a personal thing for me even before this but now, stakes were even higher. BJ doubting me was like the ultimate insult. I figured I deserved better from him.

I don't know how or when I dozed off. When I woke up again, it was dark outside. I couldn't remember when I ate last so I decided to check mess for something to eat if I wanted to make it through the night in the post-op. Mess was open and I found some peanut butter and jelly. Failing to find any fresh bread, I just picked both jars and left for the Swamp again.

"I think Erin would like you more than I do sometimes." BJ startled me. I had dozed off again. I woke with a start, peanut butter jar falling to one side.

"Only if she likes chunky and not this malignant paste." I looked at the jar with some distaste now that I had half of it in my stomach, probably causing my gut to stick together.

"Not for another year. When do they get teeth?"

"What do I look like? How do I know. All I remember is Dad telling me babies drool and cry a lot when they teethe. Pediatrics wasn't my favorite rotation."

"I thought you liked kids. You are good with them."

"They like people who can act their age. And I do like them. That's why... How's Billy? And what are you doing here? Who's in post-op?" I suddenly realized what BJ's presence here signified.

"He's fine. Relax!"

"Define fine." I asked him somewhat sharply as I got up from my cot to head out to post-op again.

"Why not go and find out?" BJ answered apathetically and I just blurted out this time.

"Beej!"

"Yeah?"

"What's happened to us?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just that. What's happened to us? We are always angry at each other. We talk as if we cannot stand the sight of each other."

"You have an active imagination, Hawk. Its been stressful for us both lately."

"You know, we don't even joke with each other anymore." I didn't know where all the sentimentality was flowing out from but for the moment, I wanted this matter settled.

"Hawk! Just go see Johnson, alright!" BJ dismissed me but I knew he was thinking what I was thinking now.

"OK. But we will talk about this later, alright. If you cannot sleep, just come to post-op." And with that, I left for post-op again.

I could feel the tiredness as it was setting in and wondered how much role booze played in helping me sleep all these months. Last few days, despite exhaustion and all that jazz, I was unable to continue sleeping for a period longer than a couple hours in one go. Knowing full well that this would come to bite me in the ass, I let it alone for a while as I approached Billy's cot. He was awake, pale and smiling.

Two outta three ain't all that bad.

I smiled as I looked at him. He was looking young and very fragile than his seventeen years.

"This is what you get for running away from home!" He just grinned. "Alright. Usually kids get lollipops when they visit the doc but here, we give the high-end stuff. Do you want soot-coated mystery meat or something less appetizing?" He smiled again but did not talk.

I checked him over and was glad things were apparently on the mend. After informing him of the possibility of no water or food for a few more days, I checked his chart again to refresh his injury status and was reminded of the injury he had received.

He was a friendly casualty. He was standing to make sure everybody from his squad was safely lying down when one of the kids on the ground let go of his grenade and Johnson who was standing received his injuries.

Wondering the average age of the kids in that foxhole where a seventeen year old was the one making sure of their safety, I returned to my lair and just sat in silent contemplation.