Always Beautiful

By- TLH

AN: Just a rambling on Hawkeye. A tad sappy, but contemplative all at the same time!

In the midst of all the shelling, the blood, the war, there was something dreamlike about it. It was as if it wasn't really happening, like it was all a figment of his own sick imagination. But why would even he think up such a thing?

As he stood outside post op, he noticed the machine like movement of the troops. The way a triage of patients had slipped into its own routine. It was sad, utterly and entirely sad.

He loved his profession, always dreamed of becoming a surgeon. And not just any old surgeon, he had hopes to be the best in the nation, his aspirations were high above those of his home town or state, he thought well above that. Was that so wrong? He was obviously fully capable.

But he felt robbed of his chance for "star strutted surgeon hood". A term he made up on his own. Of course, it was possible to still reach his dreams, perhaps after this nightmare ended. But he often wondered if he could ever learn to truly love his work again.

As the thoughts raced through his sleep deprived mind, he found himself collapsed on his cot, drifting off into a world where everything was always beautiful.

END