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Part 2 of my Radar fic, thank you for the comments on the last one everyone, it's much appreciated. But, without further adieu, here it is, enjoy.

Title: Echoes: Part 2
Author: Me, hawk1701
Pairing: implied Hawk/ Trapper
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don’t own nothing, really, I really don’t
Author's Notes: I like the Radar-extrasensory-angle, and there’s going to be at least a Part 3 coming
Summary: Radar has lost his “radar”! What will he do? How will he cope? Hawkeye’s in danger, as always, of being kicked out by the Majors

I was up so early I forgot I was tired. Anyway, its better this way, I can get more work done. There are things to do, things I’ve put off. Like dusting off all the tops of the file cabinets, or oiling the hinges on the door, little things that I plain wouldn’t be doing if I was sleeping. Think of all the extra time I’ve missed out on.

I finish sweeping with plenty of extra time before everyone else gets up. The floor looks great, I think, sneezing a bunch of times as I brush all the dust off my clothes. I didn’t need to sleep. Why bother? You’re just gonna be waking up soon anyway. And this way I don’t have to dream. It’s stupid to be afraid of dreams, I know, but I really got work to do, really.

I walk outside to go feed my animals. I liked how quiet it was. Like how it used to be in Iowa, peaceful, with no worries. Nothing was moving except for a small breeze coming up in the morning air. It was blowing through the cages, blowing over my rabbit’s fur and through the collar of my shirt.

“Hey guys,” I call, shuffling up to the stacked wire cages taking a deep breathe, “Hey,” I stick my finger through the wire, pausing to let them react but they just keep sleeping, “Everyone’s a bunch of sleepy heads this morning—wake up fellas, got you some food,” I hold up the carrots in my hand, moving so I can open the cage door to throw them in. Both rabbits awake up, jumping all over when they smell the carrots.

“That’s weird,” I murmur, pushing my glasses up my nose. They acted like they didn’t know me. They usually know it’s me, say hi, that kinda thing, but aside from hearing all the noise they were making munching carrots, that was it. I try reaching out to them, my heart beating a little faster. Nothing. Like they aren’t there. Last week I could tell Billy was unhappy and it turned out to be a crooked toenail, but now . . . I took several steps back, wringing my hands together, then looked up and around, to the other end of the tents and back. What was going on?

Suddenly there are footsteps coming toward me. Footsteps! Outta no where!

“Corporal!” I hear, I know its familiar but I can’t concentrate on that now. It sounded like they were on a loud speaker! How could they sneak up on me like that? I whirled around, almost loosing my balance. Major Burns!

“Major Burns!” I say out loud, staring at him in total shock. He might have been confused, maybe shocked himself, I dunno—I didn’t know!

“What’s the matter with you? It’s too early for you twittering!” he puffed his chest out, he always did, trying to seem bigger than he was. I usually didn’t care. No matter what I did I’d never be as big as everyone else. Anyway, it really felt like someone had hit me. Or like I had a blindfold on and couldn’t see.

“Sorry, sir,” I gasped, my shoulders starting to shake.

“It’s fine Corporal,” he looked down his nose at me, side-stepping away from the cages, his small, beady eyes totally blank. Empty. Like he was empty. “I was just heading to the mess-tent. But first things first, is the CO awake?”

“No, sir,”

“Well isn’t that nice? When I was in command I was awake and ready far before anyone else was,” he paused like he was waiting for me to guess if that was an insult or not but I didn’t say nothing. It didn’t matter, he just rolled his eyes and stalked away. After he left I tried relaxing my shoulders, turning to look at the rabbits, finally letting out a breath. But they just kept eating. Suddenly I couldn’t be by those empty lifeless cages anymore, it was too much. Too little. I don’t know, I just couldn’t. I turned back into the tent and ran right into Hawkeye.

“Hawk!” I gasped, catching myself on his arms. For a second he just looked at me and I didn’t realize I was staring right away but when I did it felt like he was a stranger. I remembered all I had sensed yesterday, or any other day, and it hit me. It hit me so hard I wanted to fall down. It was like looking at a wall. At a tree. He wasn’t there. Not all of him. He seemed dead. One of my hands went over my mouth. It was all wrong. It was like a dream, some horrible dream.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the cot this morning, Radar?”

“No, sir,” I said, shaking my head vigorously. I kept my eyes from him. Don’t look at him, I told myself, tears welling in my eyes. He won’t see how scared you are. Just get away from him. It was the same as the rabbits and Major Burns. It was like it should have been different with Hawkeye. If he wasn’t there . . . then no one else was. He offered a skeptical shrug, placing a hand on my quivering shoulder, leveling his pale blue eyes to mine, “You almost tackled me, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” I said, trying to edge around him.

“Ah, nothing,” he nodded, “That’s a difficult diagnosis. I had several cases this week,”

“Sorry, sir. I—I’m—uh,”

“Radar, you wanna say something you actually gotta form words, maybe even sentences,”

“Oh it’s not nothing sir, it’s not anything,” I shrugged involuntarily, offering him the best smile I could. His hand was just sitting on my shoulder. “Um . . . I got, uh . . . work to do,”

“Right,” he affirmed, removing his hand, letting me breath. He put both hands deep in his pockets, rocking back on his heels a moment. “In that case . . . I need you to send a telegram,” he hesitated uncharacteristically, “Stateside,” his dark hair fell over his tired face.

I nodded. Sat at my desk. Grabbed a pencil. Paper. All the while my heart was pounding like crazy in my chest, making every breath hard, but it was the only thing I could feel. I could feel my heart and the stinging in my eyes and the pencil in my hand. Nothing else. Don’t panic, I was telling myself, don’t panic, just do what you have to do, it’s gonna be okay. But I didn’t know if it was. And I didn’t know if I could do what I had to. My pencil hovered over the paper, shaking with my hand. For a sec all I could see was the blank page. If I didn’t turn around and look I wouldn’t have known he was there

“Go ahead, Hawk,”

He sat on the edge of my desk, “To Boston,” another pause, a small breathe, “To Trapper,”

I almost started writing but stopped. For the first time since I’d ran into him I realized how much he smelled like alcohol. He was really drunk. He shouldn’t be sending a telegram.

“Uh, sir, you sure you don’t just wanna send a letter? Telegrams are really not supposed to be for anything but official business, you know?”

“Am I sure?” he repeated, licking his lips, words slurring a little, “Alright a letter then,” his eyes shown dully, distant and blank.

“What?”

“A letter. You know, words on a page, sometimes an envelope and a stamp or two is involved,”

“But sir, I . . .”

“Radar I can barely stand, let alone write,” he brushed his hair haphazardly out of his face, the hand stopping to rest over his eyes, “Owe me one more favor,”

“Sir, I don’t wanna intrude,”

“It’s not intruding I just . . . wanna say goodbye to him,”

“Look . . . Radar, do me a favor and when Hawk gets back give him something for me, alright?”

“Okay,”

Blurry eyes turn away. Blinks like he’s clearing his head then he turns to look at me, “Give’im a kiss for me would ya?”

“A what?”

“Just do it,” he says, shouldering his pack, looking at me desperately, “Tell’im it’s from me—”A hand runs through his thick hair, he looks away.

“Trap . . . I guess you’re home now,” Hawk says, he sighs and there’s a long pause before he says anything next, “I didn’t get to say goodbye . . . I was ten minutes late Trap . . . I missed you by ten minutes . . . if I’d gotten there just a little bit earlier I woulda been able to see you and . . . and I would of . . . you didn’t even leave a note, or a letter, nothing,“ his voice breaks, “Why’d you have to leave me here? You coulda taken me with you. I coulda made it, I coulda gone back with you . . . anywhere but here. You left me here . . . you left me. . . “ he’s almost crying now, “You bastard . . . “

For awhile he doesn’t move. I wrote down what he said but I wasn’t . . . I couldn’t send it. I stood up slowly. He got up off the desk, wavered, his whole body swayed but he didn’t fall over. I guess he was too used to drinking to do that. He looked at me. I wish I coulda read his mind then. It was scary not knowing. I’m not an idiot. I’d known what Trapper had meant to Hawk. I’d known what Trapper thought. They were my friends, at least I hoped so, and I didn’t care if they were together, even if it wasn’t like everyone thought it should be. But why bother getting to love someone if something like this would happen? It wasn’t fair.

“He asked you,” Hawk says, sniffing as he ran a hand under his nose.

“Asked me what?” I stand up, careful not to trip over the legs of the chair.

“He asked you to,”

“Hawk, I—”

He pauses. “To kiss me,”

“Yeah . . .” I said, nodding a little, “Yeah he did,”

He looked away, his chest rose and fell heavily. When he looked back he took a step toward me. His tear filled eyes were the blockades to his soul. He looked like he didn’t know me. Unfocused. He blinked several times, then reached a hand out to hold me cheek, licking his lips. I froze, his warm hand sending shivers down my back.

“Not like this,” he mumbled, leaning down. The smell of gin overwhelming. His lips met mine as his eyes fell closed. It didn’t even seem real, Hawkeye kissing me. I can count how many times I’ve been kissed, on the lips, on one hand, and by another guy that’s even less. Never even. And I’d heard Hawk was a good kisser, you know, from nurses, in their thoughts or in the shower, but I never thought I’d find out myself. I was just too shocked to move. Too scared. It was so warm. Wet. I remember the dream but this is different, this is sad and gentle and tender. I didn’t know if I liked it, I didn’t know if I hated it. It only tasted like gin and tears. And he must have been thinking of Trapper. He pulled back, eyes fluttering open. Then it was like he recognized me.

“Radar,” he said weakly, then shook his head, heaving a sigh, “I didn’t—”

“It’s alright, sir,” I said quietly, pressing my lips together, trying to ignore that I could still taste him, “I know you miss him,”

He turned his head to the side, a piece of hair falling across his forehead, and nodded without looking at me, sitting away from me on the edge of my desk, “You don’t know the half of it,” he murmured.

“Sir . . . you really don’t want me to send this, do you?”

“Just give it to me,” he said, reaching an unsteady hand, open palm to me. I put the paper in his hand. He stared at it then let it crush within his tightening grip, “Lotta good that woulda done anyway,”

“Whatdya mean?” I asked but he seemed half asleep. Just drunk.

“Well he’s not here is he?” he said louder, looking over his shoulder at me, then stopped again, “I didn’t think I’d fall apart you know, I’m not . . . I was . . . he was just,”

“Yes, sir,”

He glanced back at me as if surprised, raising a hand to his temple, “Hold on . . . “ he said, words slurring together. He cleared his throat, squeezing his eyes shut, “Where’s Henry?”

“Sir . . . “ I waited, wishing he hadn’t said the Colonel’s name, knowing he’d make sense of stuff. Hawkeye got carried away sometimes. Not that he was crazy, he wasn’t, but he got caught up in stuff. He always made things up, things to make other things, real things, easier on him and sometimes I think he thought they were more real than anything else. Maybe it was all the really real stuff that did it to him though, I dunno, I just waited for him to get a handle on things. If he needed time . . . but he just looked even worse. His blue eyes were filled with tears, his pupils small and drowning in the blue of them.

“Never mind,” he said, then got up, “I gotta sober up,”

“Sir . . . “ I tried.

“Sir me again and I’ll report you,” he mumbled, stumbling out the door.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I went to the officer’s club just to be with people. It was different now though. Usually I’d sit, maybe drink a little, and listen to all the thoughts swirling around. It wasn’t annoying, I kinda liked it, made me feel close to them even when I wasn’t. It was like background noise. Now all I heard was the jukebox and all the chatter, mumbling over drinks. I dragged a pretzel from the bowl, taking a bite, hunching my shoulders like it was cold. Used to be I could hear people, like whispers, like a blanket, kept my company, but now it was only me in my head. Like some big empty room with only me in it. Don’t get me wrong, I get sick of hearing people’s thoughts all the time, I mean I used to, it made me nervous, made me even sad sometimes, but now all I could think about was the good things.

But at least I can see people here. I know they’re there. The door opens and Hawkeye and BJ come in. I notice them but don’t say nothing.

“That was some work, Hawk, I’ve never seen it done that way before,”

“And never will again,”

All day I’d been messing up. One thing after another. Something not getting done in time, something done wrong. I couldn’t keep up. I felt frazzled. I tugged my hat off, running a hand through my hair, exhaling as I closed my tired eyes, not wanting to even see the bowl of pretzels in front of me.

“You were taught that way?” BJ asks, they sit next to me at the bar. BJ rests his elbows on the counter, rubbing his eyes once. Hawk falls into the seat next to him, burying his head in his arms then after a second props his head up with one hand, eyes all blurry. Musta been a couple hours since he’d last had a drink, I thought to myself.

“I had to unlearn a lot of things actually, different place, different means,” “Sounds intriguing,” BJ said, “You interested in a shadow?”

“How well can you hold your liquor?”

I listened but barely heard them. If there was one thing certain about being tired it was that it was mostly like sleeping. But with your eyes open. And you’re moving. Hawk hadn’t said a word to me about this morning. It was a long time ago now. Maybe he didn’t remember. I was still expecting everything to go back to the way it was, and for the most part it did, Hawk seemed fine, but I wasn’t.

“Whatcha drinkin there, Radar?” Hawkeye asked.

“Just a Coke,” I say, mumbling past my lips that were barely moving.

“You alright, Radar?” that was BJ’s voice. He was a swell guy. I kinda liked him. But he was just like everyone else in the room right now. I had to answer him though.

“Just tired, sir,” I said, glancing up at him once.

“You ask me, you need a vacation, what do you say?”

“Yeah right, sir,”

“Why not?”

“Too much work to do,”

“Well we’re all in this together,” he says, taking a pretzel for himself.

“Yes, sir,” I say.

Gin shines in dull glasses, lapping around the rim as it’s handed to the outstretched hand. BJ takes a drink, swallowing more than normal first gulp, no longer wincing at the taste.

“I’ve been here a whole month yet the kinda stuff I just saw in there still shocks me,”

“I’ve been here a lifetime and it still does,” Hawkeye comments from the counter top, his head having fallen from his hand.

“That’s reassuring,” BJ says, smiling a little. He has a nice smile but it goes away fast. He takes another drink, “How can you do this everyday?” he asks, wrapping both his hands around his drink, bowing his head and closing his eyes.

“I can’t,” Hawk answers. I realize I was waiting for the next word and looked up when there was nothing. Hawk was usually never too tired to joke around. He was actually kinda serious mostly, on the inside. There was a darkness in Hawk that seemed like a lot to take usually, like a storm or something, not that he didn’t have it under control.

“You’ve got a good bunch of people here though,” BJ comments, straightening his back for a moment, rubbing his neck with a tired sigh. Hawk picks himself up of the bar top, leaning into BJ as he takes a drink from the glass sitting in front of him.

“Yeah,” Hawk says, raising his eyebrows then turning his eyes away, “That part definitely helps. Anything plus a nurse equal better,”

BJ laughs, easier with the gin. Everything’s easier with gin, I think to myself, downing the last of my Coke. They’re taking their next drinks already.

“It hasn’t been that long . . . and I’m already worried I’m gonna forget something . . . I miss it,”

“Don’t we all,”

“Does this place ever seem like home to you?”

“Almost. Maybe,” Hawk says. I wondered if he was being honest. Did he really think this was like home? Maybe it was the only way a guy could stay sane, to actually learn to like it a little bit. If it wasn’t home at least it was alright. BJ didn’t answer. Maybe he agreed and was waiting for it all to feel better, maybe he didn’t think this would ever be anywhere as good as home.

“You never married?” he asks after a few minutes. The gin musta been getting to him.

“How could I? The army asked me first,”

“That doesn’t sound fair,”

“All’s unfair in love and war,”

The room fades around the edges a little. I didn’t think it was possible to sleep with your eyes open but I guess it is. I don’t really fall asleep but for a second I hear something . . . like seeing something out of the corner of your eye . . . He doesn’t mind does he? I don’t want him to move, feels nice, I don’t know what I’d do without—

“Radar?”

I blink awake. I swallow back a bad taste in my mouth, adjusting my balance on the bar stool so I don’t fall flat backward. That was weird. Like a hiccup . . . maybe it was coming back finally! I got to my feet and wished I would have heard something, someone, to confirm it, you know, but instead it was all back to the way it was. I almost stumbled over my feet, taking a step backward.

“You look a little pale, you okay?” BJ lifts a hand to my forehead.

“Fever?” Hawk asks, putting a hand on BJ’s shoulder.

“No,” BJ says, then fixes me with a steady stare, “You really should take it easy. Get some rest,” he says.

“I’m fine, sir, sorry sir,” I grab my hat, “Really sirs, I think I’m okay . . .” they both gave skeptical gazes over their drinks, “I thought I was getting sick but I guess not, I . . . uh, got to go now,”

“I’d call a taxi if I were you,” Hawk said and I looked at him, meeting his eyes because he met mine first and tried to reach out to him but instead of hope I found nothing.

I push open the door, both excited and worried at the same time. Was my radar coming back? The whole camp was dark. Just thinking about all the people in it that must have been sleeping, or getting ready to sleep, made me sleepy. On one hand, I was happy for getting something on my ‘radar’ but on the other . . . why did it all have to do with Hawkeye?

I heard something behind me. Turning I saw Major Burn and Major Houlihan together outside the club, half in and out a shadow.

“Yes I know, darling but this is important,”

“If you absolutely must then alright . . . but I wish you wouldn’t let those no-goods bully you around,” Major Houlihan was saying, “A man should at least be able to sleep in his own bed,”

“I know we wanted it to be better, that we hoped this Hunnicut character would be on our side but . . . Margaret he’s just as bad,” Major Burns always tries to talk in a whisper around her but it just makes his voice higher and squeakyier than normal. “So I thought why can’t I just stay in your tent,”

I look away, shaking my head, turning my collar up over my ears.

“Oh Frank . . .” she says.

“Wait, Margaret . . . we’re not alone,”

I hear footsteps and turn around when they get close.

“Corporal, do you mind?” Major Houlihan demands, standing with her hands on her hips, Frank standing just behind her.

“I’m just standing here,” I say, crossing my arms.

“Then stand somewhere else,” she hisses, “There’s a whole camp to just stand around in,”

“Yeah!” Frank chides in, “ peering from around the Major’s shoulder as she raises her chin up high enough to look down it at me. She is taller than me.

“Yes, sir,” I say quietly.

“And don’t think we’ve given up on freeing the camp of Captain Pierce,” Major Houlihan says before I can walk away, “He’s finally snapped and it’s the end of his chapter here, Corporal, believe it,”

She and him stalk away, leaving me with my mouth hanging open, shocked. What would Potter do? He doesn’t know how it is around here, he wouldn’t make Hawkeye leave just because Major Houlihan says so? Would he?

I was worried but I was just too tired to think. I could barely stand. I didn’t wanna stand around more anyway though. I shuffled back to my office, to my bed, and sit down on my cot with a long sigh. I hadn’t drunk anything but I sure felt like I was drunk. Wobbly and sleepy. I take my glasses off so I can rub my eyes. I guess I could sleep. There’s nothing I could do right now. I was too tired to dream, right? Maybe I’d be sleeping in my dreams I was so tired.

Well, let me know what you think, or if you have any ideas for what will happen. Many thanks.