A Break in the Gloom

The sound of the phone ringing startled him awake.

He was up and staggering out to the hall, pulling a bathrobe on as he went and answering the phone before his mind had really processed his rude awakening. "Hello?"

"Hawk, it's BJ. I just heard," There was a pause as though BJ expected Hawkeye to say something. Maybe hew as just hoping. "I'm so sorry. What happened?"

The phone rested on a small table at the top of the stairs, a chair beside it for comfort. Hawkeye sat down wearily. "It was very sudden. No ill health before. He just went."

There was another silence. Hawkeye wasn't going to go into further detail it seemed. It was too raw, BJ suspected. "I was away with Peg and Erin. Radar was going crazy trying to get hold of me. He even called work. They called me when I got back, said they had a message that I get in touch with a Walter O'Reiley as a matter of urgency. He told me I'd missed the funeral."

"Right. It was yesterday. I'd have told you not to come anyway. You can't disrupt your whole life for it."

"It's a big deal, Hawk."

"Margaret came. She didn't pay any attention to what I told her."

"I'm glad she was there for you."

"Yeah."

The conversation stilted again and BJ could almost sense Hawkeye's exhaustion across the phone line. "Listen Hawk, I'll leave you too it, okay. Just know I'm only a phone call away if you need to talk, right? And if you need me out there, I'll come."

"Thanks BJ. It means a lot. I'm just a little... it's all a bit much right now, you know?"

"I know. If you need anything..." BJ trailed off. He was in danger of repeating himself and didn't want to say anything stupid. "I'll call you in a few days, okay?"

"Sure." Hawkeye said, unenthused but not telling him not to call either. They said their goodbyes and Hawkeye hung up the phone. He stayed on the seat, rubbed a hand across his face.

"Everything okay?"

Margaret stood in his bedroom doorway, one of his shirts pulled across her. He noticed her state of undress and she pulled the material together, doing up some of the buttons she'd missed in her haste to check on him.

Hawkeye purposely tore his gaze away from her. "It was BJ. He just heard."

"Just?" Margaret questioned. She'd been a little surprised that he hadn't been there.

"Yeah, they were away, him Peg and Erin. It was only through Radar's messages that he knew to call and find out what was going on."

"Oh, I see," Margaret said. She reigned back some of the anger she'd felt on behalf of Hawkeye. "Are you okay?" She asked as he sat there, seemingly having no intention of moving.

"Yeah. I'll go put the kettle on. Why don't you get dressed and I'll meet you in the living room."

"Okay," Margaret said, heading into the bedroom. She pulled the clothes she'd stripped off in a hurry last night, when they'd been overcome with a desire to comfort one another in what had seemed like the most natural way. Now she felt the move was a dumb one. Pierce might not have had much resistance to comfort at such a time, but she should have known better, should have stopped things going so far.

But she hadn't seen him in such a long time and the situation was so tragic and despite the front he was putting up, she knew he was so hurt and she just wanted to make him feel good, feel better. Feel anything but the pain she knew he was in.

Once she finished dressing, she made the bed, picked up Hawkeye's own discarded clothes and put them in a laundry basket that was neatly in the corner of the room. She went to the mirror fixed her hair the best she could without her brush which was still stowed away in her overnight bag in the spare room. She headed down the stairs to find the living room empty, so she headed into the kitchen where Hawkeye should be. But all she found was an empty kitchen, water running.

"Hawkeye?" she called but she received no answer. She turned the tap off and went to the door that lead out into the garden. She peered outside but didn't see him. There was another room downstairs between the kitchen and living room and she wasn't sure what room it was, but she assumed Pierce was inside it. She knocked cautiously before opening the door. It looked to be a study. A room filled with books, a beautiful desk and two chairs, one either side like an office and a sofa against one wall. It was professional and impressive, the rooms feel was different to the rest of the house which was a lot more homey.

And Hawkeye was stood at the end of the room, blankly staring out the window.

"You want me to make some coffee?" she asked him.

He startled a little at her voice, and turned his head slightly towards her before sighing and looking back at the window. "I came down and filled up the kettle and I went to ask my Dad if he wanted a drink." There was a sad realisation in him. That he'd never be asking his Dad that question again. That he knew this wouldn't be the first time he'd forget the truth, make that mistake. It was a miserable thing and she didn't know how to make things better for him.

"I'll make us both a drink," she said and left him alone with his thoughts.

Margaret went back to Boston and to work two days later.

And Hawkeye was supposed to pick up his life and carry on, he supposed. The surgery, his Dad's practice remained closed. Many people had commented that they expected him to take it over but it wasn't what he wanted. He'd helped his Dad out when he first came back, while he adjusted to civilian life but it just wasn't him. The fact he was expected to just change his life now and do what everyone wanted him to do irked him.
He was hurt and abandoned and having people tell him their expectations of him only made the situation worse. The wound of his loss was raw.

He had visitors everyday. People who hadn't made the funeral or who hadn't had the time to pay their respects yet. People checking in on him, bringing him food. And if he went out for fresh air, trying to gather his thoughts, he'd get stopped by someone. 'When are you getting that surgery back open?' they'd ask, pretending that the work would keep him busy but really concerned about when they could get back to their routines. Dad used to tell him that a lot of patients would turn up weekly, more for a chat than any real problems. Sure, they'd complain about something while they were there but that wasn't hard to do. They came for a little routine in their lives and now they'd expect him to take up that mantle of caring for them while none of them really cared about him.

He stopped heading outside, stopped answering the door and when it got too much, he left the phone off the hook so he didn't have to hear it ring again.

oOo

BJ Hunnicutt had a persuasive way about him.

That was how Charles Winchester ended up in Crabapple Cove. Peering in through a window trying to see if anyone was home. He'd been knocking a good while before he resorted to peering through the windows.

"He's not home," a middle aged lady called from the next garden. She was on her hands and knees tending to her garden. "Judging from the mailbox, he's been gone about a week."

Charles looked round to the mailbox and saw it was full. "Do you know where he's gone?"

"He never said." she explained, never stopping the task at hand. "I didn't see him go but I haven't heard a peep out of him in days. So I guess he went to visit family or friends. Understandable. Who'd want to be in there on their own all day," the lady said. "It's a shame you missed him. I'm sure he'd have appreciated the company."

"I came a long way to see him. It certainly would be a shame if I missed him."

"Sorry, I wish I could be more help."

Charles gave a slight nod and polite smile as he looked on at the house. It was larger than he'd imagined. Pierce had always made Crabapple Cove sound so quaint and unassuming, but there was an air of grandness about this hidden gem of a town. It was quiet, seemed exceptionally friendly, the houses were generous in size. Pierce might have been a simple man with his wants and needs but he didn't have to do without.

He made his way round the side of the house into the back garden. The garden was long and well kept and Charles heard water running somewhere down the end of it. He could admit even to himself, that he was a little bit taken with the charm of the place. He could understand why it was such an anchor to Pierce in Korea. Who wouldn't want to return home to such wonder.

He turned towards the house and almost jumped in surprise when he saw a figure stood at one of the windows.

Yet clearly Hawkeye had no acknowledgement of Charles being there. Charles looked to the neighbouring houses to make sure he wasn't being watched. If Pierce wanted people to think he was away then who was he to change that. Seeing no nosey neighbours he approached the porch.

Charles movement seemed to snap Pierce out of his daze as his eyes drifted to the figure moving across his garden.

He stared at Charles for a little longer than Charles would have been comfortable with before he seemed to realise that the man loitering in his garden was real and he moved away from the window. There was a moment when Charles worried that Pierce may have just wandered away and had no intention of coming back before he appeared at the door, unlocking it and looking out at him with an all too serious expression on his face.

"What are you doing here?"

"Your friends are worried about you. Hunnicutt was practically begging me to come here to check on you as it was so much easier for me to get here than it was him. And the only way to stop his incessant pestering was to comply." It was a perfectly reasonable answer as to why he was there but Pierce didn't seem to be ready to welcome Charles in with open arms. "May I come in? I've had a rather long journey."

Hawkeye seemed to genuinely look a little surprised by his rudeness and stepped aside to let Charles inside. He closed and locked the door behind him, looking a little concerned that he may have been seen.

"Laying low?" Charles asked as he stood in the kitchen, watching Pierce.

Hawkeye looked at him for a moment before letting out a sigh. "I just needed a break from people."

"Hunnicutt was worried about you. He said you hadn't answered the phone in days."

Though he didn't say anything, his eye line drew Charles attention out into the hallway where the phone was off the hook. "Ah," Charles expressed. "Would you mind if I helped myself to a drink?" Charles asked, indicating to the kettle. Hawkeye shook his head.

"I'll just... clean up a little." Hawkeye said before heading upstairs.

It took Charles a few attempts to find the things he needed. The fridge was almost empty and the cupboards housed very few basic food supplies. Charles made a drink for Pierce too and then stayed in the kitchen, waiting for Hawkeye to come back. He'd finished his drink and Pierce's had gone cold yet there was still no sign of Hawkeye coming back down to his house guest.

Hunnicutt was right to be concerned about his friend. Charles busied himself washing the few bits he'd used in the kitchen. Despite the fact Pierce wasn't looking after himself at all, he was keeping the house clean and tidy. The other option was that the man had barely eaten anything the last few days but Charles decided to overlook that reasoning.

Charles left the kitchen, putting the phone back on the hook as he passed it. There was a closed door with a key in the lock next to the kitchen which he figured was where Pierce was when he'd spotted him outside. He went into the next room where the door was open and found a large, welcoming room.

He assumed it was decorated to the tastes of Pierce's parents as there was nothing that really made him think of the younger doctors presence. He admired the artwork on the walls, looked at the few family photos that were framed on a shelf in a corner. There was a stack of records in a corner that Charles browsed through before he ran out of things to look at it in the room and sat on one of the chairs.

There was a stack of mail on the table, unopened. With the growing pile outside in the mail box, Charles hated to think how behind Pierce was getting with everything.

The word overwhelmed kept thumping through his mind.

It did indeed seem that Hunnicutt was right to be concerned.

A/N: So there we go, chapter one for you. I have *no* idea what I'm doing with this, so any feedback would be great. The story was so real plot driving it, I'm just going with what feels right. To me, Margaret and Hawkeye, jumping into bed together at a difficult time as a source of comforting one another is reasonable, even though I'm not writing this as a shipping story. The same way I believe that Charles would go to see Hawk if others voiced concern to him and he was concerned himself. Anyway, I'm sure more will come along soon, when I think exactly what it is I want to wrote next. :)