Chapter Text
Physically, Radar felt better. He sat up to eat breakfast today and was awake for a couple of hours before he needed to sleep again. He'd even read a comic book for a while until Frank took it away. Today was apparently four days after he collapsed, which was four days after Henry spun out over the South China Sea. Tomorrow, if what they were calling his heart rate stayed down, they would let him walk around Post Op. And if that went well, Radar was going home.
It was not a good time for Radar to go home, though he wasn't sure why yet. He'd just have to keep poking at the thought until some clarity rose to the surface. Assuming it ever would. Sidney was coming by in a minute. Radar straightened his blankets and practiced smiling bravely and not putting his hand over the place in his chest where his heart used to be. He knew he'd said some crazy things when he was out of his head, after. Sidney was smart. He might catch Radar in a lie, but he wouldn't believe the truth about his missing heart or the torn out bits of his mind, so Radar was pretty well stuck.
The door to Post Op opened just when Radar figured it would, and in loped Sidney with a kindly smile and sharply observant eyes. Sidney pulled up the chair by Radar's bed that was empty now, sometimes, because nobody was worried he might suddenly die on them anymore. "Afternoon, Radar. Are you up for a chat?"
Like he could say he wasn't. "Yes, Sir, of course," he said. He fiddled with the hem of his blanket.
"How are you feeling?"
"Tired." That was an easy one. He was feeling a whole lot of complicated things, some of which would be a lot easier to explain than others, but tired covered about half of them, more or less. The hole in his head hurt. It might be imaginary, but still.
"I imagine. You were a very sick young man for a while, there. Hawkeye and I think you'll make a full recovery given time and rest." He leaned back in the chair. "How would you like to go home?"
Well, now that was one of those questions that didn't have a good answer either way, so he changed the subject a little. "I won't get much rest back on the farm, Sir."
Dr. Freedman chuckled. "No, I suppose you wouldn't, at that. But at least bombs wouldn't be going off overhead all the time."
Radar shrugged a little. It didn't matter to him. He felt kind of flat inside, like he was too tired to care about anything much, but that might be not having a heart anymore. "I guess."
"You know, you told Hawkeye something, when you were sleepier. You said your heart was missing."
"Oh, no, sir. I must have just meant I was sad about Colonel Blake. Hearts can't just go missing. That's impossible," he lied as earnestly as he could manage. He knew that was technically true, but he also knew the big hole in his chest wasn't really plugged up at all. There were threads tugging around the empty spot in his mind again. It hurt a lot more than it used to when that happened. Everything up in that bit of himself felt sore and fragile, like the fire that had burned Colonel Blake up had reached right back inside him and left burns that hadn't had time to heal. "I was confused."
"All right then. But you're on board with the plan to send you back to Ottumwa?"
He sighed heavily. "I guess, Sir. When do I have to go?"
"Not for a few days."
"Will you do me a favor? Frank's being a pill to Hawkeye. Do you think you could get him some leave in Tokyo?"
"I think, under the circumstances, I can," Sidney said.
Radar smiled a thank you at him. "Make sure he says goodbye, first, please."
"I will."
"And where did you get these lovelies?" Hawkeye asked Sidney. They were feasting on tiny tins of oysters and caviar with fancy thick crackers. Sidney had brought them in his kit.
"My last visit to Tokyo. I shouldn't have, really. But I thought they would keep for a particularly special occasion. Pass me something back, Hawk. I don't care which."
Hawkeye delicately swiped a quarter teaspoon of caviar onto a cracker and passed it to where Sidney was pressed up against his back. "Comforting your grieving part-time boyfriend's a special occasion, then?"
"I'd say so." He took the cracker and was quiet for a moment. "I didn't know Henry as well as you did, but I miss him, too. And not just because that petty tyrant is failing miserably to fill his shoes."
Hawkeye rolled back to face Hawkeye and accepted a long, regretful kiss before rolling out of bed. "Trap thinks I'm in Supply with Cathy. I'd best get back to the Swamp soon." He rolled up and out of bed to dress.
"Oh, say, Hawkeye," Sidney said, sitting up into the space Hawkeye had just left. "I've managed to organize some leave for you in Tokyo. I could join you there in a couple of days, if you'll have me."
"When am I not interested in having you, Sid," Hawkeye asked lightly. He sat back down beside Sidney to start lacing up his boots. "I could stand to get away from here for a few days. I just--I'm not sure I could make myself get on a plane right now."
"All the more reason to do it soon, then, before the fear settles into your gut and starts picking out furniture."
Captain Hawkeye was gone, safe in Tokyo so far as Radar could tell, which was farther than most people could. Radar had been allowed out of bed since yesterday, which meant he was going home, too, maybe as soon as tomorrow. He was supposed to fly out to Tokyo with Dr. Freedman, in hopes having to ride in an airplane wouldn't be too much for his--for his heart. The one that was in there now. Logically speaking. Somewhere, far away, someone was doing paperwork, an inconsequential thing, usually, but that inconsequential thing reached out along all the possibles, shifting and resettling what might be and when it finished, it tugged so hard on Radar that he almost fell over in the yard.
He wanted to run, but his heart--his heart, yeah--was already racing just standing here feeling that urgency. He walked, slow and careful, to the VIP tent with Kellye following. "Hey, Radar, where are you going?"
"Got to tell Sidney something," he said. He couldn't spare the energy to say more. He knocked and waited with Kellye standing close beside him like she was afraid he was going to either tear across the yard or faint. The latter was more likely, though Radar was feeling a bit steadier on his feet now that he was doing what had to be done.
The door swung open. "Come in Radar. Kellye."
"Can we talk? In private, Sir." He scrubbed his hat across his head like he was scratching at the tangled threads in his brain. It didn't help.
Sidney considered his expression and nodded. "Of course. I'll take him back to Post Op, Nurse Nakahara."
"Of course," she said, and let Sidney lead him inside and to a chair.
"What can I do for you, Radar?" Sidney asked while the psychiatrist mask settled over his face.
Radar considered which bits of the truth he could afford to layer into his explanation. "Trapper's getting his papers."
"Is he? How nice for him. Does he know?"
"No. They were just drafted today," Radar admitted while trying to think of a reason he ought to know that.
"So how do you know, then?"
He went with the answer that was more likely to get Sidney to make the right decision. "I hear things. Around."
"All right then," Sidney said, accepting the information while being kind enough not to acknowledge his sources. "So you're clearly not here just to spread gossip. What do you want me to do about it?"
Radar took a deep breath and rested a hand over the little bird flapping around in his chest. His heart, he knew that now, but at the moment it was acting like a trapped bird. "I need to stay here."
"Why? What's here for you now?" Sidney had leaned forward in that intense, interested way he ha that made a guy feel like he was the only person in the world. It was supposed to be calming. Gentle. Radar still found it scary.
He tucked his hands between his knees to keep from picking at his clothes. "Hawkeye. He's gone, and Trapper's leaving before Hawkeye's supposed to get back. You're not here most of the time."
"No, I'm not, much as I'd like to come by more frequently. I have duties elsewhere."
His hands escaped to flutter up his chest. He disguised the nervous gesture by straightening his jacket. "We can't all leave him at once. It will kill him, sure as a bullet."
Sidney's nodded gravely. He understood. He did! But Radar was pretty sure he still didn't quite believe him. "So you're saying that since Trapper's going home, you need to stay for Hawkeye's mental health?"
"If there ain't nobody to take care of him, Hawkeye needs somebody to take care of. Looking after me will give him a reason to keep going if Trapper's not there."
"Hawkeye's not as fragile as he sometimes seems," Dr. Freedman said.
Radar just looked at him. He was a psychiatrist. Wasn't he supposed to be able to tell when people were flying apart? On second thought, maybe it was a good thing that he didn't have perfect insight, since then maybe Radar had a better shot of convincing him that he was okay enough to stay. Finally, he unwrapped his arms from around his body--when had he put them there?--and said, firmly. "I'm getting better faster than you thought I would. My job's not that--stren--strong--you know, I don't hafta dig latrines or anything. I just move papers around and work the radio--"
"And appease your commanding officer. Do you think you can put up with Frank in Henry's chair?"
"Captain Hawkeye is the best surgeon in the war, except for maybe Captain McIntyre, and that don't matter because he's going home. I can put up with Major Burns so I know he's okay."
"Tell you what, Radar. I'll think about it. You look tired. Let me walk you back to Post Op."
"Can't I sleep in my own bed, Dr. Freedman?"
"Radar, the moment you're back in that room, Major Burns will consider you to be on duty, and you're not ready for that, yet. physically or psychologically."
"Yes, Sir." Radar let Dr. Freedman walk him back toward his hospital bed. Post Op suddenly looked a lot farther away than it had been when he crossed the yard to get here. He tried to take it slower while not making it too obvious that he was exhausted. He ignored the creeping dark lace in his vision until he reached the door and his body gave up on being upright and thumped hard against it.
"Whoa, let's get you to bed, Radar," Dr. Freedman said while he wrapped his arms around him, which made his vision go all the way purple and black so he walked, held upright by the psychiatrist and barely seeing where he was going until he flopped onto the bed.
"I'll just take a little nap," Radar mumbled. "Don't send me home, Sidney, please."
He didn't hear Dr. Freedman's answer.
Sidney sat with Radar for a few minutes in order to be sure his rapid heartbeat settled back down. Tomorrow they would go to Tokyo, and he would spend the last couple of days of Hawkeye's five-day pass with him while Radar was flying home, safely, God willing. He took a turn of Post Op, picking up and flipping through the charts of the two other boys resting in their beds, more out of sheer nosiness than any real need.
It was pushing into late afternoon when Klinger turned up, breathless, with his feather boa whipping behind him in his haste. "Urgent telegram for you, Dr. Freedman." He pressed the offending scrap of paper into Sidney's hands.
Sidney flipped it open. There'd been an incident at the 4063rd. An injured soldier had snapped and opened fire in Post Op, killing a fellow injured soldier and badly injuring two nurses and an orderly. He was needed there to interview the culprit, determine whether he was to be committed or court-martialed, and incidentally talk the survivors through the aftermath.
He was needed as soon as possible. "Klinger, get a jeep ready. We're going to the 8063rd."
He wouldn't be spending the back half of Hawkeye's leave with him after all. He wouldn't even be able to tell him that Trapper was being sent home if that were even true. He wasn't certain. And he most likely wouldn't be at the 4077th when Hawkeye returned. Sidney turned on his heel to look at Radar's sleeping form. Where was Trapper?
He dashed back to the VIP tent to stuff his belongings into his duffel bag, then jogged to the Swamp, where Trapper was catching some sleep. "Hey," he said, apologetically.
Trapper rolled over. "What's up?"
"I've been called to the 8063rd. Radar's insisting he doesn't want to go home. Would you mind making sure Burns doesn't work him to death over the next few days?"
"I thought you were headed to Tokyo with him tomorrow." Trapper sat up and rubbed his face with his hands.
"So did I. Look. One other thing. Radar says your papers have been drawn up and it's only a matter of time before you're out of here. Do me a favor and make sure you're here long enough to tell Hawkeye goodbye."
"I won't get my hopes up until I see the papers with my own eyes, but fine, I'll try."
When Hawkeye returned from a shore leave spent drinking more and talking less than he'd hoped, since Sidney hadn't joined him--he'd never found out why--to find Trapper gone and Radar still there (though thankfully on his feet), he had been devastated to receive nothing from Trapper but a secondhand kiss on the cheek. Trapper's stuff was cleared out from the Swamp, almost as though he'd never been there.
After he settled BJ Hunnicutt in the Swamp and his newfound crush on BJ Hunnicutt far enough down in the cockles of his heart that the younger surgeon would never find it, he tugged off his boots and the rest of his fatigues and shook out his blanket, quietly so as not to rouse the angelic figure at rest in the cot across from his.
He slid his hand under his pillow and touched paper. It crinkled slightly under his hand. Trapper was his first thought. Perhaps there was something left for him besides a kiss turned perfunctory by the messenger who delivered it to him in the shower. Poor Radar, to have had to embarrass himself that way. Hawkeye felt a smile stretch over his lips for a moment before fleeing to parts unknown.
He turned on the small naked bulb by his cot, hoping it wouldn't disturb BJ, and took out the paper, which had been folded into quarters.
Dear Hawkeye,
I have been called away unexpectedly to the 8063rd, to assist in the aftermath of a crisis. I anticipate being there for the next several days, and greatly regret that I will miss our rendezvous in Tokyo. I am in no danger above and beyond the usual, and will return for the weekly, more or less, poker game and other distractions as soon as I have resolved the situation here.
Radar requested to be allowed to stay partly for your sake, please don't be too hard on him for his decision. He cares for you a great deal and is wiser than we give him credit for. Still, he is still fragile, body and soul, from losing Henry. Look out for him like he wants to look out for you.
You matter so much to me, Hawkeye, but I never want to own you. You will find the completion of your heart in many places. Don't lock yourself down to prove your loyalty. I know I have it.
I will see you soon. Carry on,
Sid
Radar would live, for the moment. He would need someone who knew him well enough to look after him. BJ would need a friend to anchor him in this awful place. And Sidney would be there when he could, to help him hold on to what was left of his sanity. He could hold on for them.