Last chapter was received with what we call in my part of town as 'lukewarm'. Not even hate mail...
Was it really that bad? I won't try to justify my choice of this turn of events since this was probably the whole premise on which this story was based.

Many thanks to Lucretius, NY Gal and Radar for reviewing. Its good to have you guys around to give me something in return for my effort!

For the rest, I want reviews, people!
Happy reading.

Chapter 90

Going back to Swamp was going to be a mistake. After all that had happened, I had less than my usual tolerance for the bunkmate who loathed me with all his heart and lately, was loathed by me like I hadn't loathed anybody since med school. Vernon Parson was probably a better doctor. At least he knew his limitations and didn't enter surgery. That being said, the guy was slippery enough not to get drafted which spoke volumes about his smarts, however misplaced they were.

You are rambling, Hawkeye!

'Shut up!'

You can't shut me up now!!

Whoever said I couldn't shut it up?

Somehow, my feet had landed me right in front of one place where I could stop feeling everything, stop thinking everything and just be able to forget and maybe, just maybe, sleep, hangovers not withstanding.

Too bad everything was conspiring against me tonight.

Why does it always have to be about you? Ever thought about Johnson? Sanders? Johnson's family? You think your suffering is greater than theirs?

Think again!

How much time passed with me staring at the now closed door of our Officer's Club, I don't really know. Night was cold but somehow, it just reminded me of the cold weather back home when I was sent to school everyday during that very cold and depressing winter almost twenty years ago. Two decades was a long time and yet, the memory stuck where I was aloof and strong enough to survive. Returning school was good for me. Just like returning to work was good for me a few years back and then again, only a few days ago.

Good for 'me'.

I had never considered the toll it took on others with my hasty return to normalcy. Now, I could see it in flesh and blood, flesh and blood I had cut and spilled and repaired and cleaned.

Who's fault is that?

"Hawk!" I heard a presence next to me that blocked the cold wind on my right side and I didn't like the sudden return of relative warmth. Cold was good.

"Hawk! You OK?"

"Beej!"

"Hawk! Its cold here. Cummon inside."

"But the bar is closed."

"Not here," He paused before continuing, "Mess tent?"

"Yeah. OK." I didn't want to spill my insanity in front of him. I didn't want to scare him.

You don't trust him!

You don't wanna lose him.

'Damn straight I don't. Now leave me alone.'

There was nothing to be said and nothing to be done. Mess tent was empty except for the rare soul looking for coffee. I decided not to sit next to the stove.

Cold was good!

I didn't want coffee either. I wanted a beer. I wanted gin with some cold vermooth. I also wanted to stop feeling right now.

'There has to be a way.'

"You informed Potter?" I asked BJ.

"Yeah."

"How did he take it?"

"Better then you did." BJ let it slip before I heard him bite his tongue. I didn't say anything. Now wasn't a time to let my insanity show.

"He should have lived. He could have survived, Beej!"

"No he couldn't have. Not after everything happened."

"That's what I said." With that, I started stirring my coffee again. I could feel it thicken with cold. Maybe they put some gelatin in it so it would congeal.

"Hawkeye!" BJ said a little earnestly. He hardly ever called me by my full name and that got my attention. I turned towards him to see what conspired in his head between now and last time he opened his mouth.

Now he'll tell you its not your fault!

"Hawk. Listen..."

"I know Beej!" I didn't wanna hear those words right now, not when every fiber of my being was accusing me of letting that kid die.

"Let me finish! It wasn't your fault."

I told you so!

'Go to hell.'

"I know, Beej. Its not entirely my fault. But I should have stopped Frank." I felt the manic surge and stopped talking right away.

"And then what?" What was he trying to say. That that kid was destined to die no matter what we – I – did? That made no sense. Destiny was what you made it and not something depending on some totally random, almost whimsical equation that decided who got to live and who got to die; not when one was seventeen.

"He could have lived, Beej! You could have saved him."

"So now its my fault?" BJ addressed me as if I was a five year old.

'What the hell?'

"No Beej! I didn't say that." Was there any point explaining what I meant?

"Mhmm."

"You, Potter, hell any half-decent surgeon."

"You?"

"Yeah. Me."

"You did everything you could and that's better than most can do at the top of their game."

"I didn't check on him in pre-op." I spoke the nightmarish reality once again.

"Who does? I hardly ever do that myself."

"This was different. I knew there was something seriously wrong with that kid and I let him slip anyway."

"Just come and sleep, Hawk."

"You go sleep Beej. I got some thinking to do and besides, Frank is the last thing I want to see right now."

"I'm due in post-op. I just came to check on you."

"Sorry. I forgot. You go to post-op. I'll be fine. I promise." I laughed bitterly.

"You wanna come to post-op with me."

"You go. And stop worrying about me. I'll be fine. I always am" He had to stop this. There was nothing he could do to feel better. I didn't want to feel better; not now!

BJ clapped me on my shoulder and squeezed it, reminding me of my sojourn into the realms of Korea not so long ago.

I barely made it to the bushes outside before I threw up violently, my whole body spasming as I retched.

Of course it was't your fault! That same sarcastic voice whispered in my ear as I stood, bent over a Korean bush.

PS: Ignore typos or lemme know. Am kinda high on meds right now.