Still not mine, still don't own, except for any mistakes.

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The sound of retching echoed down the stairs of the Pierce household. Sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of tea in hand, Hawkeye winced.

"Sounds like your friend's up," his father replied, eyeing his son over the edge of his teacup.

"Guess I won't be making him breakfast." Ben set his own cup down and stared at his hands.

Daniel raised an eyebrow at him. "More like supper."

At this, Ben glanced at the wall clock and sighed, pain etched across his features. "I've never seen him like this." He rubbed his left eye.

"Never?" his father prodded.

Hawkeye stopped rubbing his eye and met his father's gaze. "Once. Maybe twice." He shook his head. "I just don't understand it. BJ . . . he should be at home with his wife and kid. All he ever wanted was to go home." Hawkeye twirled the teacup in his hands before setting it back down and resting his elbows on the table. "I never thought I'd see him again. I mean, sure, he's called a few times, written a letter or two. But . . ." Hawkeye shook his head. He'd been so certain that BJ was fine after the war.

His dad leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a thoughtful expression on his face. "What caused it before?"

"What?"

His father frowned. "You said that BJ had a couple of similar . . . episodes in Korea. What set him off then?"

Hawkeye flinched at his father's use of the word "episodes." Dad had seen him through his worst when he came home from Korea, including those tearful drinking binges and his panicked insomnia. Dad had assured him that it was nothing to be ashamed of, but Ben didn't like that he'd put his father through so much pain. Daniel had reminded him that he'd survived the horrors of WWI, and that though war memories were ever present - like shadows on a sunny day - you gradually learn to live with them.

So what's happened to Beej then? Hawkeye wondered. Why has he gotten worse instead of better?

"Benjamin."

His father's voice brought Hawkeye back to their kitchen table, with the red-checked tablecloth and his now-cold tea.

"Yes, Dad?"

"You told me in your letters that BJ was your rock, that he got you through Korea. What about the times when he wasn't? What caused him to get upset?"

Hawkeye thought back to the war and life in the Swamp. "Regular stuff, like blood and guts and meatball surgery. Losing boys young enough that they'd be caught out past curfew back home." He sniffed and made a face. "Rancid food, mice, rats, stale coffee."

His father chanced a smile. "Sounds exactly like you." Daniel finished his tea and walked their cups over to the sink. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder before sitting back down. "What about BJ?"

Hawkeye touched his left eye again, remembering his tentmate's rare display of temper when he'd found out that his daughter had called Radar, their former company clerk, Daddy. BJ had gone on an epic bender: destroying the still, carousing with Klinger, punching his best friend in the face.

"His wife, his daughter. Missing them, missing milestones like birthdays or his anniversary." He glanced toward the stairs. "You think that's what's happening here? Ben pursed his lips. "Something's happened with his marriage? Peg did seem awfully distant on the phone." He locked eyes with his dad. "Maybe she threw him out and he doesn't have anywhere else to go." He beseeched his father, blue eyes wide.

Daniel shrugged. "I don't know, Ben. Could be." His father cleared his throat. "Son, you need to be careful—"

"Dad—"

Daniel held up a hand. "Now, I know you care for this man, but nursing him to back to health is not your responsibility. He's clearly an addict of some sort and likely has shell shock—"

"I did too!"

"I know that, Benjamin! Sit down!"

Hawkeye frowned at his father and dropped back into his chair.

"Son, we both know you came back from the Korean conflict a broken man." Daniel reached across the table and took Hawkeye's hand. "And I know you want to help. But you need to put yourself first. You've worked hard to get back to where you are." He patted his son's arm awkwardly.

Hawkeye gave his father a soft smile. "Only because you helped me, Dad. You never once gave up on me." A thoughtful look crossed his face. "What if that's it? What if Beej came here because Peg gave up on him?" Hawkeye tapped his fingers on the table and gestured toward the footsteps they both heard clomping down the stairs. When he spoke next, his voice was just above a whisper. "His wife was his rock. What happens when a man loses that?"