Drabble post: Nothing in the Dark

[soi.livejournal.com]

Title: Nothing in the Dark
Pairing: Frank-centric, allusions to potential Frank/everyone he ever shared a tent with, I guess
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, thanks.
Summary: Somehow, things seem different in the dark.

Notes: First actual post here, I've just been silently adding and editing a few memories so far. Glad to be here. <3


There's nothing in the dark that isn't there in the light. Frank had that knowledge instilled in him long ago.

But somehow, he sees, Korea manages to twist everything you thought you were sure of, manages to show you that you can't believe in anything anymore, and somehow, you just keep putting all your faith in God and the Red, White, and Blue all the more, because you need to believe in something to keep your world from crashing down.

And somehow, lying there in the dark, there's something different, something that isn't there in the light. Frank knows it's not there in the light because he would never allow it. It's weakness, it's pathetic, it's everything that anyone worth knowing frowns on, and it's everything that Frank has spent his whole life trying not to be.

But it's there in the dark, all right. It's a feeling that comes on sometimes when he can't sleep or when he wakes up in the middle of the night, when Pierce and McIntyre -- or Hunnicut now, but what does he care, they're practically interchangeable half the time -- come back late together, or stay up late together, or do God only knows what late together. It's always together, that's the thing, and sometimes Frank finds himself wishing more than anything that they'd include him willingly in all their conversations and shenanigans, that they'd finally let him into their special little world, disgusting as it may be.

Sometimes he wishes one of them would just drop dead so he could have the other all to himself.

Wouldn't that show them? Then Frank would get to be the best friend. He'd be the one on the inside of all the jokes, he'd be the one to get all the sympathy. Finally, for once, he'd be the one to feel that reassuring touch when everything he'd worked his whole life to build up started breaking down, to feel those--

He always stops himself before he can form this next thought completely. That would mean it was real. And it can't be real, because Frank Burns is a true upstanding, God-fearing, lawn-mowing, by-the-book American, and thoughts like these are reserved for perverts and heathen degenerates. Frank is far better than thoughts like these, because if he isn't, then what is he?

It's just a trick the night plays on him, that's all. It's exhaustion, it's waking up with a remnant of a dream -- no, nightmare -- that he can't quite shake off.

Except it's not.

And though he'll never dare to admit it to himself, somewhere inside, he knows it. Because it doesn't matter if your world gets turned upside down, and it doesn't matter if you wake up one day and realize you don't know yourself anymore. Because facts are facts. Because--

"There's nothing in the dark that isn't there in the light," he recites hollowly.

Hawkeye just looks away. "Why do I find no comfort in that thought?"

Comments

[http://users.livejournal.com/_grayswandir_/]

Normally I'm an extreme lurker on this comm, but your icon is so damned pretty that I had to come out of lurking to comment. I'm not even that big a fan of Frank, but wow, that icon is pretty.

I love the fic, too. Stream-of-consciousness is a bit overused in the M*A*S*H fandom, in my opinion -- but this one is really quite good. Well written, in character, and with a neat twist.

And it can't be real, because Frank Burns is a true upstanding, God-fearing, lawn-mowing, by-the-book American

I love how you have "lawn-mowing" in there -- better than any of the other, more cliche phrases, I think that one expresses just exactly what kind of American Frank thinks "Americans" have to be.

Nice work. :)

[soi.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much XD I have entirely too many Frank icons.

And yeah, I was thinking about the time he told Margaret that he'd finally figured out what the war was all about -- lawnmowers! -- and god, that just had to go in there.

[teapot-yo.livejournal.com]

OH MY GOODNESS. YES.

Sometimes he wishes one of them would just drop dead so he could have the other all to himself.

ohhh you just killed any annoyance i might ever have had with frank in one deft stroke.

also i second what _grayswandir_ said about lawnmowing. how perfectly FRANK.

i'm sorry that i don't have time to say the things about this that deserve to be said (maybe tomorrow?) but i did want you to know that oh i loved this.

ps you seem really neat so i'm adding you.

[soi.livejournal.com]

Thank you SO much. <3 I'm always really nervous about posting things, so it means a lot!

Added you too.

[swing-set.livejournal.com]

Poor Frank. You really made me feel for him here. He's such a lonely person, even with Margaret, and that really comes through here.

...sometimes Frank finds himself wishing more than anything that they'd include him willingly in all their conversations and shenanigans, that they'd finally let him into their special little world, disgusting as it may be.
Sad and lovely. *ferret love*

[aibyouka7.livejournal.com]

Haha, THIS IS AWESOME. Come on, Frank, you know you want the gay! (PS, I know this was only vaguely-related, but, I love Trapper/Frank even though it makes no sense. XD)