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Jul. 17th, 2005 09:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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mash_slashTitle: Sleepless
Author: Me, myself, and I.
Pairing: Hawkeye/Henry, a hint at another.
Rating: PG at the most
Warnings: None
Length: 899 words
Disclaimer: In my dreams, I own the rights to M*A*S*H. I think. Never can remember my dreams. Anyway, when I'm awake, I own nothing besides a dead laptop.
A/N: I’m catching up on the fics I’ve promised people! This one is for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hawkeyesmartini. Thanks to sarcasticsra for the beta.
“Sirs?” A tentative tap at the door.
“No sirs here,” Trapper replies, contemplating his martini.
“Can I come in, sir?”
“Not if you’re going to keep that up.”
Radar enters the Swamp, glancing around. “Is Captain Pierce here, sir?”
“I told you to cut that out, you know Hawkeye’s not here, and don’t let him catch you calling him ‘Captain’.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”
Trapper rolls his eyes; the kid is hopeless. “What’s up, Radar?”
“I can’t sleep.”
Trapper doesn’t ask why; on nights Hawkeye isn’t in the Swamp, with a nurse, or on post-op, Radar can never sleep. He figures hearing things other people can’t isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, not when you can hear your surrogate dad’s sex life with your role model. Instead, he holds up a glass. “Care for antifreeze?”
“Oh, yes please, sir.”
“Radar, you ‘sir’ me one more time and I’ll have to give you a direct order.”
“I’m sorry, si—Trapper.”
Trapper hands him the half-full glass. “What’s Hawkeye trying to get out of Henry now?”
Radar coughs after his first sip, then answers. “He doesn’t want Colonel Blake to report that soldier with a foot injury—he thinks Major Freedman should be called instead.”
“And he’s right. Did you fill out the paperwork already?”
“It’s on Colonel Blake’s desk. He’ll sign it in the morning.”
“It’s going to take that long?” Trapper is taken aback; normally Hawkeye is gone for an hour, maybe two. The last time he was gone all night was when they crated Ferret Face.
“Yes, sir. Where’s Major Burns?”
“Post-op. Margaret’s on with him. Why is it going to take all night?”
“Majors Burns and Houlihan have really been riding him lately.” Trapper smirks as Radar says this, but the corporal doesn’t notice. “He’s trying to get the brass off his back so he can go back to letting me run things.”
“What do you think about this arrangement Hawkeye and Henry have?”
“It’s none of my business, sir.”
“Radar, stop calling me ‘sir’, and that’s an order. Suppose it was your business.”
“Well, gee, I don’t know. I mean, it seems to work for them, doesn’t it?”
“That’s not what I asked, but yeah, it does work. What do you, yourself, think about it?”
Radar looks hesitant, and glances around before lowering his voice and answering. “Colonel Blake cares a lot more about Hawkeye than Hawkeye does about him.”
“You mean Henry loves—?”
“I don’t know about that. I can’t hear even Colonel Blake that deep.”
“But you think he does?”
“Hawkeye’s on his mind more than even his wife and kids, and he always wants to please Hawkeye, doesn’t he? It’s a good thing Hawkeye and you are friends.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You drive Colonel Blake a little bit crazy sometimes.” Trapper smirks; he knows that perfectly well, and he knows Radar knows he knows. “If it weren’t for Hawkeye, you’d almost never get a pass, and you’d get in a lot more trouble.”
“You mean, like we didn’t get in trouble after the desk?”
Radar smiles at this. “He knows that wasn’t your idea—Hawkeye told him so.”
“And he believed Hawk. How does he feel about Henry?”
“He has fun, and he likes Colonel Blake all right, but he’s just using him.”
“Sounds like Hawk.”
“What about you? What do you think?”
“I don’t know things, like you do. Henry seems happier now that Hawkeye’s started manipulating him, though, and he’s definitely more relaxed. Hawk doesn’t much care—he gets around plenty with the nurses, and he’s just playing Henry.”
“And you, sir?” Radar asks this quietly, seemingly unsure of himself. Trapper knows he’s harder for the kid to read—they’ve never been as close as Radar is to Hawkeye, and Trapper is good at hiding his thoughts. He stares down into his martini before answering.
“I know why Hawk does it, and I know why it works. I’m happy for Henry, if he thinks he found something, but Hawk’s going to hurt him eventually. It’s not the best of situations, but it works.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know, but it’s all you’re gonna get.”
“Yes, sir,” and this time Trapper doesn’t call him on it.
“Why don’t you bunk here tonight?”
“Thanks, Trapper.”
“Anytime, kid. Want me to read you a story?” Radar glares at him and Trapper laughs, the momentary tension gone. Once he’s seen Radar into the spare bunk and hears his breathing change, Trapper stares up at the ceiling, contemplating Radar’s question. He finally falls asleep, and doesn’t wake until Hawkeye quietly enters, the sky streaked with dawn-pink.
“When’s Sidney getting here?” he whispers, not wanting to wake Radar.
Hawkeye starts; he’d thought Trapper was still asleep. “Later today,” he replies, then jerks his head at Radar’s sleeping form. “Couldn’t sleep last night?”
“He never can. Night, Hawk.”
Hawkeye hesitates as he unlaces his boots. “You okay with this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Trapper curses his defensive tone.
Hawkeye shrugs as he climbs into his cot. “I just thought…never mind.”
“Go to sleep. I’ll take post-op for you this morning.”
“Thanks, Trap.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Hawkeye doesn’t; he just rolls over. His breathing is soon slow and regular, and Trapper listens, just listens, to his best friend’s steady breaths until he leaves for post-op. Listening is all he can do, after all.
Crossposted to my LJ and, eventually, my archive.
Author: Me, myself, and I.
Pairing: Hawkeye/Henry, a hint at another.
Rating: PG at the most
Warnings: None
Length: 899 words
Disclaimer: In my dreams, I own the rights to M*A*S*H. I think. Never can remember my dreams. Anyway, when I'm awake, I own nothing besides a dead laptop.
A/N: I’m catching up on the fics I’ve promised people! This one is for
hawkeyesmartini. Thanks to sarcasticsra for the beta.“Sirs?” A tentative tap at the door.
“No sirs here,” Trapper replies, contemplating his martini.
“Can I come in, sir?”
“Not if you’re going to keep that up.”
Radar enters the Swamp, glancing around. “Is Captain Pierce here, sir?”
“I told you to cut that out, you know Hawkeye’s not here, and don’t let him catch you calling him ‘Captain’.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”
Trapper rolls his eyes; the kid is hopeless. “What’s up, Radar?”
“I can’t sleep.”
Trapper doesn’t ask why; on nights Hawkeye isn’t in the Swamp, with a nurse, or on post-op, Radar can never sleep. He figures hearing things other people can’t isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, not when you can hear your surrogate dad’s sex life with your role model. Instead, he holds up a glass. “Care for antifreeze?”
“Oh, yes please, sir.”
“Radar, you ‘sir’ me one more time and I’ll have to give you a direct order.”
“I’m sorry, si—Trapper.”
Trapper hands him the half-full glass. “What’s Hawkeye trying to get out of Henry now?”
Radar coughs after his first sip, then answers. “He doesn’t want Colonel Blake to report that soldier with a foot injury—he thinks Major Freedman should be called instead.”
“And he’s right. Did you fill out the paperwork already?”
“It’s on Colonel Blake’s desk. He’ll sign it in the morning.”
“It’s going to take that long?” Trapper is taken aback; normally Hawkeye is gone for an hour, maybe two. The last time he was gone all night was when they crated Ferret Face.
“Yes, sir. Where’s Major Burns?”
“Post-op. Margaret’s on with him. Why is it going to take all night?”
“Majors Burns and Houlihan have really been riding him lately.” Trapper smirks as Radar says this, but the corporal doesn’t notice. “He’s trying to get the brass off his back so he can go back to letting me run things.”
“What do you think about this arrangement Hawkeye and Henry have?”
“It’s none of my business, sir.”
“Radar, stop calling me ‘sir’, and that’s an order. Suppose it was your business.”
“Well, gee, I don’t know. I mean, it seems to work for them, doesn’t it?”
“That’s not what I asked, but yeah, it does work. What do you, yourself, think about it?”
Radar looks hesitant, and glances around before lowering his voice and answering. “Colonel Blake cares a lot more about Hawkeye than Hawkeye does about him.”
“You mean Henry loves—?”
“I don’t know about that. I can’t hear even Colonel Blake that deep.”
“But you think he does?”
“Hawkeye’s on his mind more than even his wife and kids, and he always wants to please Hawkeye, doesn’t he? It’s a good thing Hawkeye and you are friends.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You drive Colonel Blake a little bit crazy sometimes.” Trapper smirks; he knows that perfectly well, and he knows Radar knows he knows. “If it weren’t for Hawkeye, you’d almost never get a pass, and you’d get in a lot more trouble.”
“You mean, like we didn’t get in trouble after the desk?”
Radar smiles at this. “He knows that wasn’t your idea—Hawkeye told him so.”
“And he believed Hawk. How does he feel about Henry?”
“He has fun, and he likes Colonel Blake all right, but he’s just using him.”
“Sounds like Hawk.”
“What about you? What do you think?”
“I don’t know things, like you do. Henry seems happier now that Hawkeye’s started manipulating him, though, and he’s definitely more relaxed. Hawk doesn’t much care—he gets around plenty with the nurses, and he’s just playing Henry.”
“And you, sir?” Radar asks this quietly, seemingly unsure of himself. Trapper knows he’s harder for the kid to read—they’ve never been as close as Radar is to Hawkeye, and Trapper is good at hiding his thoughts. He stares down into his martini before answering.
“I know why Hawk does it, and I know why it works. I’m happy for Henry, if he thinks he found something, but Hawk’s going to hurt him eventually. It’s not the best of situations, but it works.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know, but it’s all you’re gonna get.”
“Yes, sir,” and this time Trapper doesn’t call him on it.
“Why don’t you bunk here tonight?”
“Thanks, Trapper.”
“Anytime, kid. Want me to read you a story?” Radar glares at him and Trapper laughs, the momentary tension gone. Once he’s seen Radar into the spare bunk and hears his breathing change, Trapper stares up at the ceiling, contemplating Radar’s question. He finally falls asleep, and doesn’t wake until Hawkeye quietly enters, the sky streaked with dawn-pink.
“When’s Sidney getting here?” he whispers, not wanting to wake Radar.
Hawkeye starts; he’d thought Trapper was still asleep. “Later today,” he replies, then jerks his head at Radar’s sleeping form. “Couldn’t sleep last night?”
“He never can. Night, Hawk.”
Hawkeye hesitates as he unlaces his boots. “You okay with this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Trapper curses his defensive tone.
Hawkeye shrugs as he climbs into his cot. “I just thought…never mind.”
“Go to sleep. I’ll take post-op for you this morning.”
“Thanks, Trap.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Hawkeye doesn’t; he just rolls over. His breathing is soon slow and regular, and Trapper listens, just listens, to his best friend’s steady breaths until he leaves for post-op. Listening is all he can do, after all.
Crossposted to my LJ and, eventually, my archive.
