Fic: Sleeping Interruptions
May. 20th, 2006 11:24 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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mash_slashTitle: Sleeping Interruptions
Author: Robin Gills
Pairing: Hawkeye/BJ; hints at H/BJ/Charles
Rating: G-ish
Disclaimer: These hot boys aren’t mine, I’m not making any money off this.
Archive: Anywhere, just let me know.
Feedback: Sure
Spoilers: It's possible
Word Count: 2,861
Beta: Lisa
Summary: Charles sees something he didn’t expect in the army, even though he wouldn’t quite call the MASH 4077 a typical army. He investigates.
Charles woke suddenly. A noise had penetrated his light sleep. It occurred often as he was not yet used to camping out in the cess pool. Bugs, rats and worse… artillery shells often produced noises loud enough to have Charles sitting up in bed and reaching for some sort of protection. But this sound had only roused him, not spiking action into him. The noise hadn’t come from the outside, but inside. It was still cause for concern, Charles deduced. He slowly drew his covers down from his face so he could get a better view of the room.
He saw movement in Hunnicut’s side of the tent. He relaxed slightly, because latrine visits weren’t uncommon. Charles was prepared to fall back into unpleasant sleep, but his attention was drawn back to Hunnicut’s actions. The man moved off his cot hastily and propelled himself towards Pierce’s side of the tent. The man did a poor job of navigating the small distance between the cots and he tripped over something. He knocked something off the distiller table which cracked on the floor.
Charles heard a few curse words float across the room and Hunnicut looked in Charles’ direction. He closed his eyes quickly but doubted Hunnicut could see well enough through the dim light to notice that Charles was awake. He didn’t move, however. He wanted to catch Hunnicut at whatever he was up too. The man was acting oddly, even if Hunnicut was going to the latrine, Charles wasn’t going to take a chance. Schemes could still be constructed at the dead of night.
A loud moan broke through the silence and both men’s attention was focused on the occupant of the third cot. Pierce’s moan must have been what woke him, Charles realized. He vaguely wondered if Pierce was having an epileptic fit. But the man must just be having an erotic dream. How crude.
Hunnicut moved over to Pierce’s bed and sat down on the edge of it, obstructing Charles view.
Pierce’s moans reached a desperate edge, and Charles assumed Hunnicut was attempting to rouse the distraught man. He could see Hunnicut physically trying to wake Pierce with small shakes. Hunnicut resorted to whispers as Pierce let out more distressing noises.
It wasn’t until Charles heard Pierce shout and he saw movement, that he knew Pierce was truly awake. It appeared to Charles that the two were wrestling. Hunnicut got the upper hand by having the advantage of being on top. Charles supposed the loud whispers of “Hawkeye it’s me. Stop fighting. Hawk! It’s BJ!” helped too.
Charles could hear both men’s loud labored breathing once the tussle ended. They moved around on the bed. A strange noise floated across the tent to him. It was soft and muffled at first, but Hunnicut shifted and he heard it grow louder and more heart wrenching. He realized quickly that it was Pierce. He was sobbing. Charles could hear the loneliness, desolation, and the heartache in those sobs.
Charles couldn’t see very clearly across the tent but the light outside cast a soft glow across a portion of Pierce’s bed. He could see Hunnicut’s head leaning against the small headboard. Pierce was lying across Hunnicut’s chest, his face buried into the folds of the drab green shirt. Pierce’s arms held desperately onto the other man’s waist. Both men’s torsos and legs disappeared under the twisted blanket.
Half of Hunnicut’s face was illuminated by the light, and Charles could see the man’s own sadness and concern. Hunnicut stroked Pierce’s back in circles, tying to calm him. Charles could see the tenderness Hunnicut put into each movement. He caressed Pierce’s hair, brushing it away from his forehead.
Charles heard Hunnicut’s soft whispers over the sobs. “Shh… Hawk,” He could hear tenderness in the voice.
Pierce responded to Hunnicut with a mumble, and Charles only heard the words ‘dead’ and ‘accident’, which didn’t mean anything to him. But Hunnicut seemed to understand because he responded.
“Nobody’s dead, Hawk. Here or there. Crabapple Cove is fine. Everybody’s fine.” Pierce could only respond with more anguish.
Pierce’s distress clamed slowly as his sobs turned to whimpers. Hunnicut’s murmurs also ebbed. Charles saw no point in intervening. His interference wouldn’t get him to sleep faster, it would create havoc. If he could tune out the two men across the room, he’d be able to sleep. Which he did sooner rather than later.
---
Charles woke slowly. Early morning was beginning and he could hear only a few people milling about. This was his favorite time of day. He had time to himself. He had discovered quickly that most people at the 4077th liked to sleep in as late as possible. Mornings, he could shower, eat, and read in quiet. The lunatics didn’t wake until they decided to grace the world with their presence.
Speaking of his tentmates, he sat up and looked over at his two resident sociopaths. Both were asleep, in almost the same positions Charles had seen them in last night.
Charles put on his robe and gathered his showering things. He made to exit the tent, but paused before opening the doorway. There was something intriguing about the two men in the bed. It was odd, and Charles couldn’t put his finger on it, but he turned slightly to eye the men. Pierce’s head was lying across Hunnicut’s chest, his left hand was lying limply on the man’s rising and falling stomach. Charles could see Pierce’s right hand extending out from underneath Hunnicut and was hanging off the bed. Hunnicut lay still, his head fallen downward into Pierce’s hair. The light blanket had been shoved down to their waists. Both men’s feet were poking out from underneath the ends, intertwining with each other’s appendages.
Charles couldn’t help but ogle the two. He didn’t feel disgusted at the sight, but the image the two made was calming and soothing. The fact that it was two men in the same bed practically morphing together into one, didn’t change that fact. If one of them had been a woman, than the picture would have been serene - by normal standards. There would be nothing wrong with the picture they presented.
Charles withdrew from that thought immediately as he noticed his quickened breath. The beginnings of excitement trickled though him at his realization that he was slightly attracted to the idea the two men presented. There was absolutely no reason why he should be thinking about such things. Hunnicut was most likely helping out his friend. He shouldn’t jump to such a conclusion. But his mind whispered other things and more images floated though his head. He quickly exited the tent. A nice cold shower was just what he needed to start the day.
---
Charles arrived back at the Swamp in a timely fashion. Once he reached the tent, however, he approached quietly. He didn’t know why he felt the need to tread lightly to keep his entrance secret, but nevertheless, he neared the door as silently as possible. He heard movement inside and peered through the screen before he opened the door. He saw Hunnicut getting out of bed. He warily unattached his body from Pierce’s as he exited the cot. ‘So they’re not quite attached at the hip,’ Charles thought amused.
After he was free of the long limbs, Hunnicut gently maneuvered a pillow under Pierce’s head. Charles noted that Hunnicut looked like he was sneaking out of his mistress’s bed. Then Hunnicut did something that Charles never thought he’d see in the army. The man leaned down and tenderly brushed black-gray hair away from his friend’s forehead. He could hear Pierce murmur something softly through the door. Hunnicut smiled and made a soft comforting noise in return - then placed a kiss on the man’s temple. Charles could see the love in those actions and reflected on Hunnicut’s face.
Hunnicut rose from his bent position and turned towards his own bed. He grabbed his pants off his chair and set about getting dressed. Charles decided to quit loitering around outside his own tent. He opened the door silently which was a lot to ask from a door with squeaky hinges. Charles let the door slam behind him and he felt a small pleasure as Hunnicut almost jumped out of his skin. But Hunnicut didn’t say a word, he only glanced at his returning tent-mate.
Charles began dressing as well. Once he finished, Charles tossed the OD badge over onto Pierce’s chair and addressed the other man. “You had better wake the bum. He’s Officer of the Day all weekend and the weekend’s already getting a head start.” Hunnicut reached over and snatched the OD badge off the chair, setting it on his own.
“I’ll cover for him,” Hunnicut said solemnly and sat to put on his boots.
“Why?” Charles asked, scoffing. “The louse should do his own share of the work.”
“Because he’s sound asleep. When was the last time any of us got a full night of sleep since we got here?” Hunnicut asked softly, but Charles doubted he was asking for a response. He obliged the other man, whether he wanted it or not.
“Why don’t you two sleep together more often then?” Charles asked, flippantly.
Hunnicut turned sharply towards Charles, his face stern. “I’m not one to sleep around.”
“That’s not the way I see it,” Charles said with a smirk.
“Well I suppose you call them like you see ‘em,” Hunnicut said sternly and walked out of the tent. Pierce slept on blissfully.
---
Charles entered Post-Op, around mid-afternoon, reading his current charts. He glanced around the room, looking for his patient. He saw Pierce sitting on a stool next to one of the patients, reading a chart of his own. He could see the exhaustion coming off Pierce in waves. He supposed one night of good sleep couldn’t erase years of having almost no sleep. Maybe it made things worse - if your body was used to so little and then was given a lot. Was there such a thing as an overdose of sleep? ‘Something to ponder about later,’ Charles thought. Charles swiftly concluded his check ups in a mater of minuets and trekking back to the Swamp.
Hunnicut was lying on his cot. He looked up as the door swung open, but when he saw Charles, he returned to reading his mail. Charles breezed over to his cot and sat with a book in hand. Silence reigned throughout the room for several minutes. While the quiet would normally please him Charles was chewing something over in his mind.
“What exactly is your relationship with Pierce?” Charles asked, unperturbed, setting his book down listlessly.
Hunnicut glanced over at his roommate for a brief second, but ignored him as and continued reading.
Charles stood, crossed the room and sat on Pierce’s cot next to the man’s outstretched legs. He returned to his interrogation - not letting Hunnicut’s silent treatment agitate him. “What kind of relationship is it?” His question was only met with more silence. “I suppose I mean to say is that one such as yourself, Dr. Hunnicut, wouldn’t climb into bed with just anyone.” Charles saw Hunnicut’s jaw clench slightly, but it relaxed quickly. The action only encouraged him.
“What type of affair is it? Are you two distant, twice - removed brothers?” Charles continued. “No, that’s not right. You’re not related in any fashion that I know of. Friends would be the obvious choice, but maybe it’s just too obvious. You’re practically attached at the hip, but I’ve never seen a friend caress,” he stressed the word and he saw the jaw clench again. “A friend in quite the way you caressed yours. No, no. I’d say that kind of action is reserved strictly for lovers.”
“Maybe you’ve never had a good friend before,” Hunnicut said, keeping his eyes fixed on his letter.
Charles continued to lounge on Pierce’s cot, studying the other man. It seemed Hunnicut had had enough silence as he finally spoke.
“What is it to you, Charles? Can’t a man be friends with another man? Or is the idea of friends foreign to you?” Hunnicut turned and swung his legs over the bed so he was facing Charles. “Can you say passive aggressive?”
“Of course, there is definitely nothing wrong with being friends. I was purely making an observation. Small talk, as it were,” Charles said, smiling coyly as he ignored the jibe. “So, what exactly afflicts Dr. Pierce?”
The sudden change in topic surprised the other surgeon and Charles had the rare occasion of catching Hunnicut without words. Once the man found his voice, he retreated back to his cot and his mail. “Nothing particularly is the matter with him. He just has nightmares occasionally. Don’t you?”
“Well now that I’m apart of this cest pool, I’d have to say that the very tent I live in is a nightmare,” Charles begrudgingly agreed.
“Well, there you have it,” Hunnicut seemed to think their conversation was over. Charles could see his eyes’ moving across the page of his letter trying to find his spot. But Charles was having none of that.
“I’m just asking if this is a common occurrence. I’d rather not to be awoken by such commotion again. Moreover, you seemed to know exactly what to do for him. I can only assume he has had such troubles before,” Charles said, smoothly.
“Look, Charles,” Hunnicut returned to his poise of passive aggression. There was anger and a tinge of worry in his eyes. “Hawkeye’s been in this cest pool longer than any of us have had the pleasure to be. You think you’ve seen it all, but the only one that has, is Hawkeye. He’s had to put up with more near-death situations than you or I have ever had to deal with. If he breaks down in his sleep, than you ought to let him. God knows it’s only when he’s unconscious that he lets himself relax and allows others help him,” Hunnicut was standing now - his face was flush with anger.
“You lay off him. Do you hear me?” Hunnicut was shouting down at him, but the man seemed to regain control of himself taking a deep breath, and in a much quieter voice he continued his rant. “If you try to do something about our friendship, you’ll destroy him. He invests so much into the people he puts back together on those operating tables, that he barely has anything left for himself. If you take away something he’s never had until now than you’ll kill him. How would you like that on your conscious? Assuming you have one, of course. Do whatever you want to me, but don’t touch him. Don’t you dare.”
Hunnicut looked him square in the eyes with so much aggression, and audacity in defense of someone Hunnicut really truly cared about. He could see love in those eyes as well. It was hard to make out – it was covered by the other, more hostile emotions, but it was there. Charles wondered vaguely if Hunnicut knew that his eye’s gave away so much of his emotions.
Charles didn’t respond and Hunnicut left. He walked right out the door. Charles watched him through the screen of the tent as Hunnicut met Pierce halfway to the Swamp. Hunnicut snagged the other man’s arm en route to his destination. Pierce mouthed a confused ‘what’ but followed solemnly without question, the man was practically sleepwalking. Charles stood and tried to watch them from inside the tent. As they walked past the mess tent Hunnicut turned to look behind him. He sent a glare in the direction of their tent. Charles saw them turn and disappear behind one off the supply sheds.
Charles exited the Swamp and followed. He had had no intention of enticing such emotions out of Hunnicut again. Charles could only assume Hunnicut had been keeping the worry and concern trapped inside of him for quite some time. Charles had unknowingly been an outlet. Hunnicut was going to have to be more careful in the future, he determined. Charles supposed he’d have to be the one to tell him. He turned two buildings before the corner the men had taken. He peered carefully around the edge of the wooden structure. If he had any doubts about Pierce and Hunnicut’s relationship, it became a confirmed fact in Charles’ eyes.
Hunnicut had pushed Pierce against the back of the supply wall. He had trapped one of the chief surgeon’s skilled hands against the wall above him, and was running the other hand up and under the man’s shirt. Hunnicut was ravishing Pierce’s throat, jaw, and lips. He could see both men panting between breaths. Charles decided not to stay any longer as he could feel his own excitement stirring. He pushed it down forcefully. Now was certainly not the time for such things. He’d already taken a cold shower. And he reasoned, he’d have the rest of the war to get to know these two men better. And to dish out a little advice about discretion.
Author: Robin Gills
Pairing: Hawkeye/BJ; hints at H/BJ/Charles
Rating: G-ish
Disclaimer: These hot boys aren’t mine, I’m not making any money off this.
Archive: Anywhere, just let me know.
Feedback: Sure
Spoilers: It's possible
Word Count: 2,861
Beta: Lisa
Summary: Charles sees something he didn’t expect in the army, even though he wouldn’t quite call the MASH 4077 a typical army. He investigates.
Charles woke suddenly. A noise had penetrated his light sleep. It occurred often as he was not yet used to camping out in the cess pool. Bugs, rats and worse… artillery shells often produced noises loud enough to have Charles sitting up in bed and reaching for some sort of protection. But this sound had only roused him, not spiking action into him. The noise hadn’t come from the outside, but inside. It was still cause for concern, Charles deduced. He slowly drew his covers down from his face so he could get a better view of the room.
He saw movement in Hunnicut’s side of the tent. He relaxed slightly, because latrine visits weren’t uncommon. Charles was prepared to fall back into unpleasant sleep, but his attention was drawn back to Hunnicut’s actions. The man moved off his cot hastily and propelled himself towards Pierce’s side of the tent. The man did a poor job of navigating the small distance between the cots and he tripped over something. He knocked something off the distiller table which cracked on the floor.
Charles heard a few curse words float across the room and Hunnicut looked in Charles’ direction. He closed his eyes quickly but doubted Hunnicut could see well enough through the dim light to notice that Charles was awake. He didn’t move, however. He wanted to catch Hunnicut at whatever he was up too. The man was acting oddly, even if Hunnicut was going to the latrine, Charles wasn’t going to take a chance. Schemes could still be constructed at the dead of night.
A loud moan broke through the silence and both men’s attention was focused on the occupant of the third cot. Pierce’s moan must have been what woke him, Charles realized. He vaguely wondered if Pierce was having an epileptic fit. But the man must just be having an erotic dream. How crude.
Hunnicut moved over to Pierce’s bed and sat down on the edge of it, obstructing Charles view.
Pierce’s moans reached a desperate edge, and Charles assumed Hunnicut was attempting to rouse the distraught man. He could see Hunnicut physically trying to wake Pierce with small shakes. Hunnicut resorted to whispers as Pierce let out more distressing noises.
It wasn’t until Charles heard Pierce shout and he saw movement, that he knew Pierce was truly awake. It appeared to Charles that the two were wrestling. Hunnicut got the upper hand by having the advantage of being on top. Charles supposed the loud whispers of “Hawkeye it’s me. Stop fighting. Hawk! It’s BJ!” helped too.
Charles could hear both men’s loud labored breathing once the tussle ended. They moved around on the bed. A strange noise floated across the tent to him. It was soft and muffled at first, but Hunnicut shifted and he heard it grow louder and more heart wrenching. He realized quickly that it was Pierce. He was sobbing. Charles could hear the loneliness, desolation, and the heartache in those sobs.
Charles couldn’t see very clearly across the tent but the light outside cast a soft glow across a portion of Pierce’s bed. He could see Hunnicut’s head leaning against the small headboard. Pierce was lying across Hunnicut’s chest, his face buried into the folds of the drab green shirt. Pierce’s arms held desperately onto the other man’s waist. Both men’s torsos and legs disappeared under the twisted blanket.
Half of Hunnicut’s face was illuminated by the light, and Charles could see the man’s own sadness and concern. Hunnicut stroked Pierce’s back in circles, tying to calm him. Charles could see the tenderness Hunnicut put into each movement. He caressed Pierce’s hair, brushing it away from his forehead.
Charles heard Hunnicut’s soft whispers over the sobs. “Shh… Hawk,” He could hear tenderness in the voice.
Pierce responded to Hunnicut with a mumble, and Charles only heard the words ‘dead’ and ‘accident’, which didn’t mean anything to him. But Hunnicut seemed to understand because he responded.
“Nobody’s dead, Hawk. Here or there. Crabapple Cove is fine. Everybody’s fine.” Pierce could only respond with more anguish.
Pierce’s distress clamed slowly as his sobs turned to whimpers. Hunnicut’s murmurs also ebbed. Charles saw no point in intervening. His interference wouldn’t get him to sleep faster, it would create havoc. If he could tune out the two men across the room, he’d be able to sleep. Which he did sooner rather than later.
---
Charles woke slowly. Early morning was beginning and he could hear only a few people milling about. This was his favorite time of day. He had time to himself. He had discovered quickly that most people at the 4077th liked to sleep in as late as possible. Mornings, he could shower, eat, and read in quiet. The lunatics didn’t wake until they decided to grace the world with their presence.
Speaking of his tentmates, he sat up and looked over at his two resident sociopaths. Both were asleep, in almost the same positions Charles had seen them in last night.
Charles put on his robe and gathered his showering things. He made to exit the tent, but paused before opening the doorway. There was something intriguing about the two men in the bed. It was odd, and Charles couldn’t put his finger on it, but he turned slightly to eye the men. Pierce’s head was lying across Hunnicut’s chest, his left hand was lying limply on the man’s rising and falling stomach. Charles could see Pierce’s right hand extending out from underneath Hunnicut and was hanging off the bed. Hunnicut lay still, his head fallen downward into Pierce’s hair. The light blanket had been shoved down to their waists. Both men’s feet were poking out from underneath the ends, intertwining with each other’s appendages.
Charles couldn’t help but ogle the two. He didn’t feel disgusted at the sight, but the image the two made was calming and soothing. The fact that it was two men in the same bed practically morphing together into one, didn’t change that fact. If one of them had been a woman, than the picture would have been serene - by normal standards. There would be nothing wrong with the picture they presented.
Charles withdrew from that thought immediately as he noticed his quickened breath. The beginnings of excitement trickled though him at his realization that he was slightly attracted to the idea the two men presented. There was absolutely no reason why he should be thinking about such things. Hunnicut was most likely helping out his friend. He shouldn’t jump to such a conclusion. But his mind whispered other things and more images floated though his head. He quickly exited the tent. A nice cold shower was just what he needed to start the day.
---
Charles arrived back at the Swamp in a timely fashion. Once he reached the tent, however, he approached quietly. He didn’t know why he felt the need to tread lightly to keep his entrance secret, but nevertheless, he neared the door as silently as possible. He heard movement inside and peered through the screen before he opened the door. He saw Hunnicut getting out of bed. He warily unattached his body from Pierce’s as he exited the cot. ‘So they’re not quite attached at the hip,’ Charles thought amused.
After he was free of the long limbs, Hunnicut gently maneuvered a pillow under Pierce’s head. Charles noted that Hunnicut looked like he was sneaking out of his mistress’s bed. Then Hunnicut did something that Charles never thought he’d see in the army. The man leaned down and tenderly brushed black-gray hair away from his friend’s forehead. He could hear Pierce murmur something softly through the door. Hunnicut smiled and made a soft comforting noise in return - then placed a kiss on the man’s temple. Charles could see the love in those actions and reflected on Hunnicut’s face.
Hunnicut rose from his bent position and turned towards his own bed. He grabbed his pants off his chair and set about getting dressed. Charles decided to quit loitering around outside his own tent. He opened the door silently which was a lot to ask from a door with squeaky hinges. Charles let the door slam behind him and he felt a small pleasure as Hunnicut almost jumped out of his skin. But Hunnicut didn’t say a word, he only glanced at his returning tent-mate.
Charles began dressing as well. Once he finished, Charles tossed the OD badge over onto Pierce’s chair and addressed the other man. “You had better wake the bum. He’s Officer of the Day all weekend and the weekend’s already getting a head start.” Hunnicut reached over and snatched the OD badge off the chair, setting it on his own.
“I’ll cover for him,” Hunnicut said solemnly and sat to put on his boots.
“Why?” Charles asked, scoffing. “The louse should do his own share of the work.”
“Because he’s sound asleep. When was the last time any of us got a full night of sleep since we got here?” Hunnicut asked softly, but Charles doubted he was asking for a response. He obliged the other man, whether he wanted it or not.
“Why don’t you two sleep together more often then?” Charles asked, flippantly.
Hunnicut turned sharply towards Charles, his face stern. “I’m not one to sleep around.”
“That’s not the way I see it,” Charles said with a smirk.
“Well I suppose you call them like you see ‘em,” Hunnicut said sternly and walked out of the tent. Pierce slept on blissfully.
---
Charles entered Post-Op, around mid-afternoon, reading his current charts. He glanced around the room, looking for his patient. He saw Pierce sitting on a stool next to one of the patients, reading a chart of his own. He could see the exhaustion coming off Pierce in waves. He supposed one night of good sleep couldn’t erase years of having almost no sleep. Maybe it made things worse - if your body was used to so little and then was given a lot. Was there such a thing as an overdose of sleep? ‘Something to ponder about later,’ Charles thought. Charles swiftly concluded his check ups in a mater of minuets and trekking back to the Swamp.
Hunnicut was lying on his cot. He looked up as the door swung open, but when he saw Charles, he returned to reading his mail. Charles breezed over to his cot and sat with a book in hand. Silence reigned throughout the room for several minutes. While the quiet would normally please him Charles was chewing something over in his mind.
“What exactly is your relationship with Pierce?” Charles asked, unperturbed, setting his book down listlessly.
Hunnicut glanced over at his roommate for a brief second, but ignored him as and continued reading.
Charles stood, crossed the room and sat on Pierce’s cot next to the man’s outstretched legs. He returned to his interrogation - not letting Hunnicut’s silent treatment agitate him. “What kind of relationship is it?” His question was only met with more silence. “I suppose I mean to say is that one such as yourself, Dr. Hunnicut, wouldn’t climb into bed with just anyone.” Charles saw Hunnicut’s jaw clench slightly, but it relaxed quickly. The action only encouraged him.
“What type of affair is it? Are you two distant, twice - removed brothers?” Charles continued. “No, that’s not right. You’re not related in any fashion that I know of. Friends would be the obvious choice, but maybe it’s just too obvious. You’re practically attached at the hip, but I’ve never seen a friend caress,” he stressed the word and he saw the jaw clench again. “A friend in quite the way you caressed yours. No, no. I’d say that kind of action is reserved strictly for lovers.”
“Maybe you’ve never had a good friend before,” Hunnicut said, keeping his eyes fixed on his letter.
Charles continued to lounge on Pierce’s cot, studying the other man. It seemed Hunnicut had had enough silence as he finally spoke.
“What is it to you, Charles? Can’t a man be friends with another man? Or is the idea of friends foreign to you?” Hunnicut turned and swung his legs over the bed so he was facing Charles. “Can you say passive aggressive?”
“Of course, there is definitely nothing wrong with being friends. I was purely making an observation. Small talk, as it were,” Charles said, smiling coyly as he ignored the jibe. “So, what exactly afflicts Dr. Pierce?”
The sudden change in topic surprised the other surgeon and Charles had the rare occasion of catching Hunnicut without words. Once the man found his voice, he retreated back to his cot and his mail. “Nothing particularly is the matter with him. He just has nightmares occasionally. Don’t you?”
“Well now that I’m apart of this cest pool, I’d have to say that the very tent I live in is a nightmare,” Charles begrudgingly agreed.
“Well, there you have it,” Hunnicut seemed to think their conversation was over. Charles could see his eyes’ moving across the page of his letter trying to find his spot. But Charles was having none of that.
“I’m just asking if this is a common occurrence. I’d rather not to be awoken by such commotion again. Moreover, you seemed to know exactly what to do for him. I can only assume he has had such troubles before,” Charles said, smoothly.
“Look, Charles,” Hunnicut returned to his poise of passive aggression. There was anger and a tinge of worry in his eyes. “Hawkeye’s been in this cest pool longer than any of us have had the pleasure to be. You think you’ve seen it all, but the only one that has, is Hawkeye. He’s had to put up with more near-death situations than you or I have ever had to deal with. If he breaks down in his sleep, than you ought to let him. God knows it’s only when he’s unconscious that he lets himself relax and allows others help him,” Hunnicut was standing now - his face was flush with anger.
“You lay off him. Do you hear me?” Hunnicut was shouting down at him, but the man seemed to regain control of himself taking a deep breath, and in a much quieter voice he continued his rant. “If you try to do something about our friendship, you’ll destroy him. He invests so much into the people he puts back together on those operating tables, that he barely has anything left for himself. If you take away something he’s never had until now than you’ll kill him. How would you like that on your conscious? Assuming you have one, of course. Do whatever you want to me, but don’t touch him. Don’t you dare.”
Hunnicut looked him square in the eyes with so much aggression, and audacity in defense of someone Hunnicut really truly cared about. He could see love in those eyes as well. It was hard to make out – it was covered by the other, more hostile emotions, but it was there. Charles wondered vaguely if Hunnicut knew that his eye’s gave away so much of his emotions.
Charles didn’t respond and Hunnicut left. He walked right out the door. Charles watched him through the screen of the tent as Hunnicut met Pierce halfway to the Swamp. Hunnicut snagged the other man’s arm en route to his destination. Pierce mouthed a confused ‘what’ but followed solemnly without question, the man was practically sleepwalking. Charles stood and tried to watch them from inside the tent. As they walked past the mess tent Hunnicut turned to look behind him. He sent a glare in the direction of their tent. Charles saw them turn and disappear behind one off the supply sheds.
Charles exited the Swamp and followed. He had had no intention of enticing such emotions out of Hunnicut again. Charles could only assume Hunnicut had been keeping the worry and concern trapped inside of him for quite some time. Charles had unknowingly been an outlet. Hunnicut was going to have to be more careful in the future, he determined. Charles supposed he’d have to be the one to tell him. He turned two buildings before the corner the men had taken. He peered carefully around the edge of the wooden structure. If he had any doubts about Pierce and Hunnicut’s relationship, it became a confirmed fact in Charles’ eyes.
Hunnicut had pushed Pierce against the back of the supply wall. He had trapped one of the chief surgeon’s skilled hands against the wall above him, and was running the other hand up and under the man’s shirt. Hunnicut was ravishing Pierce’s throat, jaw, and lips. He could see both men panting between breaths. Charles decided not to stay any longer as he could feel his own excitement stirring. He pushed it down forcefully. Now was certainly not the time for such things. He’d already taken a cold shower. And he reasoned, he’d have the rest of the war to get to know these two men better. And to dish out a little advice about discretion.
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