Chapter Text
It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be...
He wouldn’t fall for his best friend.
No.
That wouldn’t make any sense.
Just because he got jealous ever time Hawk went out with a nurse? BJ just didn’t like to spend the evening alone.
Or that he ...
Besides he wasn’t into men.
Well except that one time in medical school.
Or that other time in high school.
But it was different now, he was different, he was married now. To a woman. A wonderful woman. Who he loved deeply.
For God’s sake, they have a child. Of course, BJ wasn’t
"Hunnicutt!" Margarets voice cut through the empty OR like a scalpel. "There you are! Potter and Charles are looking for you. Wana come and tell them you’re ok?" After walking past the operating tables, she got her first good look at the doctor and...
He was huddled into a corner. Eyes red, tears stained his face, his hair was more of a mess than normal, and it looked like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Eyes wide and mind racing to find an excuse for the state he was in.
"Are you ok?"
"Yea. Yea! I’m good." He wiped the tears from his face and quickly stood up. "I’ll just go do my rounds."
"No, you won’t!" She made herself as bis as possible, blocking his escape. "You are not on duty till tomorrow and if you don’t stop running from your feelings the colonel will take you off duty until you start talking. We can call Sydney if you don’t want to talk to us. Just talk to someone, it’s more than obvious that you need it."
" Margaret, with all the respect you deserve. Fuck off!"
"BJ, with no respect at all. You are the biggest, most self-centered asshole I know." She was still blocking his way, trying her best to look stern while tears collected in the corners of her eyes. "Do you really think you’re the only one who misses him? Who is hurt? He was my friend too. Were all mourning, you’re the only one acting like a child about it." Her voice was raised far over the level she actually wanted it to be. If she didn’t calm down, she might just say something stupid.
“As if you told someone how you feel.”
Oh, like he knew? Who did he think he was anyways? “Actually, I did! I talked to the Colonel and father Mulcahy. We want to have a funeral for Pierce, and you would know that if you stopped running from us.”
No
They couldn’t have a funeral.
They couldn’t
"He isn’t even pronounced dead. You can’t have a funeral for someone missing in action. Isn’t that against some kind of regulation?" BJ was stepping backwards. Subconsciously walking himself into a corner he couldn’t get out of.
They couldn’t have a funeral.
He couldn’t
"BJ, look at me." His breathing was rapid, heart beating at a million miles an hour. "Focus on me. Just breath." He hit the wall, the room around him shrinking, into an impossibly small space. They couldn’t have a funeral. He couldn’t "I’m here, it’s ok." There wasn’t enough air for him to breathe. Something warm raped around him. "Just let it out, it’s ok." They couldn’t have a funeral. " Margaret, I…" his words were caught in sobs, unable to form into sentences. "I know. Its ok, I’m here. I’m sorry. Just let it out." If they have a funeral he will be gone for good. He can’t do this without him. There were so many wounded. So much noise. Who would he plan his next scheme with? Who would make him laugh? Who would hold him if he broke down.
His hands were digging into Margarets back.
It wasn’t the same.
Right now, she was all he had.
It wasn’t enough.
It took a while for BJ to calm down again. When he did, he lifted his head from her shoulder looking at her tear-stained face. “I’m sorry that was” “Don’t apologize for being human. Would Hawkeye judge you for this?” Of course he wouldn’t. How many times had they seen each other at their worst? “no.” “Good. That’s what I thought.” Slowly she moved BJ into an upright position, pushing him gently away from her. “Now, we’ll get you in a nice hot shower, fresh clothes and I’m gona see if the kitchen still has any of that soup from yesterday.” He started wiping the remaining tears from his cheek. “Margaret I’m not a child. You don’t have to do this” She gave him a look normally reserved for thick headed patients. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you starving yourself over the last few days. I’m too good a nurse to not notice that, BJ. You’re not going through this alone. Were here if you need us, and right now I think you do.”
A few weeks ago, BJ would have just left. Buried himself deeper and deeper, denied that there was anything wrong at all. But he was just tired now. He wanted to be home, to hug Peggy and Erin, to let this be a war story from long ago and far away. Something that was already over.
“Thank you.”
After a few moments of hesitation, he gave her a hug and pushed past. “I’ll meet you in the mess tent.”
The shower was refreshing, if a bit lonely. Father Mulcahy offered to stay and talk after he was done but quietly left after BJ had ignored him.
Maybe he should apologize to Francis when he sees him again. Who just ignores a friend when they clearly just want to help? Why was he acting like this? He had been for a few days now. Walking past friends, shutting himself off from everyone. They all just wanted to help. Like Margaret said they were there for him. But how?
How were they still functional, able to help someone else? If BJ even thought about supporting someone right now his head might explode. Why was he the only one reacting in a way befitting the situation? Hawkeye was dead for God’s sake! Hell, some of these people knew him longer than BJ did and still he was the one falling apart. Was their friendship that special? Were they that close? Or did Hawkeye mean more to BJ than a simple war time buddy? Did BJ really develop feelings for his best friend?
no.
He had to stop thinking about that.
Margaret greeted him with a raised hand. Not like there was any need to draw attention to herself, the mess tent was completely empty except for her.
Before she could greet him properly, he asked the one appropriate question on his mind.
"So... when’s the funeral?"
She looked ashamed. When she thought about telling him about their plans, she always pictured them sitting down talking him through it slowly and gently. Not screaming at him while he was already down.
“I’m so sorry you found out like that. I..."
"When?" His question was fast and abrupt, but not meant to be rude. She could see that even after the shower he was still pretty shaken up.
"In a few days maybe. There isn’t really a date yet, we wanted to give you some time, before we threw that on you."
"A few days sounds good." Despite all the empty benches BJ decided to stand. Margaret was worried that he was going to run again.
"Are you sure you’re ready for this?"
"No." Speaking way louder than intended, he raised his voice almost to a scream. "I don’t want to do this, I don’t even want to think about it, but maybe just getting it over with...." His voice quieted down again "maybe getting it over with is for the best."
Finaly, he slumped down next to her. Resting his head on the table, he was mumbling quietly into his hands. “Why does this have to be so hard?”
Silently Margaret pushed a bowl of soup in front of him. “Eat!”
Only half pretending to act like moody teenager, he pushed the bowl back in her direction. “Why?” He wasn’t hungry. Hadn’t been for a few days. "Does soup magically make it better?”
“No, but it’s not that bad and maybe you won’t be so grumpy anymore.” over the last few days she had watched him closely. Noticing how he threw away full trays of food, sat alone in the furthest corner of the mess. And that was when he came to eat in the first place. More than once he just didn’t show up. Not that it wasn’t normal to skip a meal. Every now and again, they all did it. They knew how bad the food could get. But this wasn’t healthy and they both knew it. At least Margaret hopped that BJ was aware of his latest bad eating habit.
Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Sure, he felt sick even just thinking about eating but if the rest of camp could do it, why not him. After all he had no reason to mourn Hawkeye more than anyone else.
It, unbelievably so, tasted pretty good. A bit too much salt, but other than that it was a perfectly expectable chicken soup. “See I can eat. May I go now?”
She looked down at the bowl, still half full. “Yea, just don’t skip any meals again.” He rolled his eyes at her. “At least come sit with us. No talking or eating necessary, I just want to see that you’re there.”
“Fine.” BJ didn’t know how to fell about this.
It felt like he was being set up to be babysat, by his friends.
His friends.
They really did care about him, didn’t they?
Maybe this was ok.