Alright. Just don't come after me with pitchforks after this chapter, alright? Many thinks to Serilia, Krows, Radar, NY Gal, and Symphony and welcome and thanks to Lucretius for actually starting and finishing the story in one day and then reviewing it as well. I'll look forward to more of your feedback.

Here we go!

Chapter 89

"Hawk!" BJ hadn't left for which I was grateful but then it was his tent as well.

"Yeah, Beej?" I answered without turning my head towards him. The green ceiling held some strange attraction for me as my mind wandered in all directions, all of which led to a more dreary ceiling and a much worse home with infinitely worse bunkies.

"It will blow over. You said yourself it happens every two three months..."

"I know it'll blow over. I was thinking when I can have a drink again, that's all." I lied through my teeth and didn't feel all that good about myself. Maybe I did belong in a prison. The thought made me shudder.

"Are you cold?" BJ was concerned, I could tell. I, however, wasn't ready for any smothering mothering from him.

"Beej! Stop worrying, alright. I'm fine. And yeah, thanks for the feast tonight." I suddenly remembered the dinner which was almost ruined by the gang almost immediately.

"It was worth the oratory." BJ smiled and so did I. When was the last time I had described food with so much love and almost poetic eloquence anyway?

"Dad hated it."

"Reuben sandwich?"

"The oratory. I gave him hard time with that. He was not all that bad ya know. They had to take cooking lessons in med school."

"How is he doing?"

"He's fine, I guess. I... I wrote him only a few days back. It could hardly have crossed the Pacific yet."

"Yeah." BJ went silent after that wistfully silent 'yeah' and my thoughts drifted from here to Mill Valley to what I had done to how I was going to explain my role in whatever happened in BJ's life over next few weeks to home again and my father, an old and lonely man who was refusing to live on for fear of losing his only son who might never really make it back home anyway.

"So much for being a morbid son of a ..." I muttered silently before closing my eyes, knowing full well that Frank would do his level best to ruin any chance I might otherwise have of getting some shuteye. Remembering the horrible prison stories, I finally drifted off. I'm not sure when BJ left for post-op but I do remember when Frank entered the tent again. His loud voice was up to this task and with my nerves already on the edge, a falling pin would have had me airborne.

"Wake up, Pierce! Its your mess and you should clean it." Frank spoke in a very nasty tone. I was still groggy from this sudden, unwanted and pretty vampiric awakening but I felt my heart sink.

"What happened?" I stood up a little too quickly and felt the earth move beneath my feet but now wasn't the time for swoons.

"That soldier..." I missed the rest of his sentence as I was already out of the door before he could go on.

BJ was sitting next to Johnson who looked almost as white as the sheet. He was listening to his abdomen.

"What happened?" I barely kept panic out of my voice.

"Peritonitis."

That one word sank any and all hopes I had kept alive over last three days or so.

"What happened?" This time, more calmly.

"Not sure. Seems his gastric repair gave in."

"How long?"

"They found some blood on active suction and did some lavage..." I knew the story from there onwards.

"Beej, how long?"

"An hour, give or take. Frank was here when I came in at midnight." It was almost half past midnight.

"Give him max doses of antibiotics. We may have to go in again. I want him on pressors, fluids and arrange for four units of cross matched blood." I wasn't gonna give up on him, not now.

"Hawk! He won't make it." BJ whispered, pulling me aside.

"He won't make it if I don't try." I angrily replied.

"Hawk, stop it, alright! You cannot do anything."

"Watch me!" And with that, I ordered them to take him to OR as I left to scrub up, my hands shaking with anger.

Just anger?

'Go to hell!'

BJ followed me in the scrub room.

"You did all you could, Hawk! You know it. He won't make it." BJ sounded sad. I had no time for sadness!

"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? WATCH WHILE HE DIES?"

"No. I don't. I just want you to know the stakes."

"Thanks. I'll let my bookkeeper know!" And with that, I went into OR.

"He's very shocky, Hawkeye." Tundra was here again.

"I know. If we fix this, he won't be shocky anymore. Let me know when you're ready, Tundra!"

Margaret was standing opposite me and for once, I decided to at least act clairvoyant and believe in good luck charms thinking of Margaret as one for me.

"Go ahead!" Came Tundra's voice.

"Knife." And so it began. BJ was right. Stomach repair had given in and contents of stomach had spilled into his abdomen and it was not 'one hour' as BJ had said. It was longer, that was for sure. Cleaning up the mess, I remembered what Frank had said about 'cleaning up my mess'. He knew it was the stomach repair that had given way. What was he referring to then? Finishing up quick as possible, I thought about all that this kid went through just because...

"Cardiac Arrest!" Announced Tundra loudly, and I felt like a mule had kicked me in my stomach.

I gave him a thum and started resuscitation. How long I did the CPR, I have no memory. It was all useless. There just wasn't any fight left in that kid and that was that.

After a lifetime, I finally and definitely gave up on a kid I had promised I would take care of.

"Time of death: 2:07am."

Too bad life didn't stop after somebody broke such a promise.

Paper work awaited me returning at least part of my being to the real world once again.

That settled, I had one more thing to take care of and however hard I wished that wasn't something I could let wait.

"Peter!" I shook the boy awake gently so as not to startle him and noticed bitterly how I could be considerate about not shaking him even when I was going to give him one of the worst news of his life.

"Captain Pierce! Is Billy OK? I had a bad dream..." And with that his eyes moved towards the now empty cot. It amazed me how he had slept through the whole scene till Billy was taken into OR.

I didn't have to say anything as he did the math himself and shoved me back with all his might and yelled a loud NO.

"I'm sorry!" I didn't know what else to say as I regained my balance. Shoving me was turning into a favorite sport around this unit lately. Peter just sobbed silently after his first yell. I told one of the nurses to call for Father Mulcahy to see Cpl. Sanders at his earliest convenience which was going to be pretty soon, I was sure.

Miserable as I was right now, I didn't envy the good priest his duties!