I don't own it, you know.
Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of joy you must have somebody to divide it with. - Mark Twain
Hawkeye hadn't slept for four days. BJ had done nothing but sleep.
Colonel Potter observed this and felt a pang in his chest that had nothing to do with old age. Since the two had been reunited, it was impossible to make Hawkeye leave BJ except to take care of the few wounded that had been sent to their hospital from the battle.
Potter tried to send him to bed, but he always ended up coming back, like last night.
"Why don't you go to bed, son? There's nothing you can do here." The Colonel tried to keep his voice gentle, but he knew the man needed sleep. The bags under his eyes attested to that.
Hawkeye looked at him, his eyes blank and staring, one hand still entwined with his friend's. Potter wanted to take back the words when he saw the look in Hawkeye's eye. The helpless, pleading look he'd seen on the faces of so many men that had passed under his care. Once they go that look, precious few were saved.
Colonel Potter sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the man whose life still hung in the balance. In that second he knew that if BJ didn't pull through neither would Hawkeye. He swallowed hard before continuing, "We won't let anything happen to him. I promise. But you're not doing him a favor by not sleeping."
Hawkeye had eventually, reluctantly, gone to bed. But an hour later he was back, whether sleeping or awake, and was sitting back in the chair placed by the bed, threading his fingers through BJ's.
Colonel Potter now stood in Post-Op, bandaging a young man named Williams for the last time. The boy looked at him after he was finished, and Colonel Potter got the feeling that a man much older then twenty lay behind those eyes.
"That man over there, he's a doctor, right? The one that lunatic shot?" Colonel Potter nodded reluctantly. The boy's eyes opened wide.
"I'm real sorry mister. He sure was nice." He paused for a moment, then said. "That man who always is next to him, their friends aren't they?" Again, the Colonel nodded. "That's good. When he wakes up he'll have a familiar face to fight off the pain. That's what we do in my unit. We try to be their when someone wakes up. I think it helps."
Colonel Potter nodded, feeling tears spring to his eyes. He got up quickly so the young man wouldn't see the tears leak out like water through a broken faucet.
It was night when Hawkeye felt the hand beneath his move. He knew it was Margaret or Father Mulcahy or Klinger, who was still using a wheelchair, trying to pry him away from BJ again.
He opened his eyes anyway, and was looking when BJ opened his for the first time in nearly a week. Hawkeye shifted in his chair to get more comfortable, nearly falling back to sleep. He'd seen BJ awake so often in his dreams. It was a good dream.
But then a voice, small a hoarse, broke through the night. "Hawk?"
Hawkeye sat bolt upright with a yell that brought Charles, who was on duty, running. "What's wrong?" He asked quickly with uncharacteristic worry.
It took all of Hawkeye's self-control not to launch himself at BJ. He forced himself not to jostle his hurt friend too much and contented himself in screaming himself hoarse, waking up the entire camp and all of the patients.
People poured into Post-Op, beaming at BJ and adding to the noise. They formed a ring around the bed, none of them imposing on the scene that was unfolding before them.
Hawkeye was crying, tears falling thick and fast down his face and he fiercely hugged his friend, wrapping his arms securely around him. "You scared me." He admitted in a choked voice. "I thought I'd lost you."
"It's okay." BJ muttered softly, patting Hawkeye's back, tears in his own eyes. "I'm okay."
"Don't do that again." Hawkeye murmured, pulling himself away from his friend and staring him in the eye. "Don't ever do that to me again. I love you too much."
BJ smiled and Hawkeye could see that sleep was on its way. Real sleep, not the drug-induced coma he'd been in. Before his eyelids close, BJ managed to whisper something, so quietly that Hawkeye almost didn't hear it.
"I know, Hawk."
I'm sad to see it go. Yeah, it's the end. Fin. Review anyway?