Breaking Point Chapter 24

BJ jerked awake, shudders running down his back. The stillness told him it was very late or very early. He looked around. Charles and Hawkeye slept and BJ shivered. Spring or not, this night was cold and he slowly stood up, moving as quietly as he could. Outside the Swamp, he curled in the chair, wrapped in his blanket. The stars hung bright and clear and BJ watched the stars, mentally berating himself. He hadn't had nightmares for awhile--in fact, everything had been as normal as possible for the 4077th. He'd been needed to keep Hawkeye on a somewhat even keel and he loved that. Hawkeye needed him. So why was tonight a bad one? Fretting and angry, he finally fell asleep, blanket over his shoulders.

The nightmare began slowly as usual. Black spirals mixed with red, flashes of pain and hazel eyes. Flagg's breath rasped in his ears, Wainwright's nails bit deep. Calloused fingers dug into his skin, blood trickled, and the icy void beckoned again, the void he dreaded yet sometimes longed for. Hawkeye, fragile, genius Hawkeye was his bulwark, his wall against the terrors, the memories of pained flesh and even more aching soul. Dimly he heard Hawkeye's voice.

"BJ! BJ!" BJ blinked. Hawkeye shook his shoulder, hands almost burning. BJ looked up and Hawkeye pulled him close. "You're freezing! What are you doing out here?"

"Nightmare." BJ started shivering again. "Didn't want to wake you."

"Wake me! You've helped me through my nightmares often enough." Hawkeye pulled BJ to his feet. "Come on."

Inside the Swamp, Hawkeye fired up the stove and huddled with BJ near it. BJ trembled in his arms, constantly watching Charles. Hawkeye stroked BJ's back. After around ten minutes, BJ's shaking stopped. "What do you dream?" Hawkeye asked softly.

BJ stared into the stove, watched the fire. "The abyss." He watched the flames flicker. "The torture. The smell of her perfume, the feel of blood down my chest, the sound of Flagg grunting when he...well, mainly the void. Sometimes it beckons. I wonder what it'd feel like to dive in. Other times, I know what would happen. I'd go mad." He stretched his neck. "Sometimes that sounds like a good idea." He smiled at Hawkeye. "Thankfully, I have you."

Hawkeye caressed BJ's shoulder then drew him into his arms. BJ laid his head on his shoulder, breathed in his scent. "Here I thought I was the crazy one," Hawkeye quipped. BJ chuckled.

"Sorry I woke you."

"Anytime, Beej."

Hawkeye held him close. The younger man wrapped his arms around his waist. BJ closed his eyes and rubbed his smooth cheek against Hawkeye's neck. No matter what nowadays, BJ showered and shaved. He could be coming off a 24 hour OR stint, be falling down exhausted, but he would stumble to the shower and wash and shave. Hawkeye took a deep breath. BJ smelled of the minty shaving cream he used and the clean scents of shampoo and soap. Hawkeye felt BJ's fingers splay over his back. Hawkeye kissed his forehead and BJ opened his eyes with a smile. "Thanks Hawkeye."

"I know the void, Beej. Anytime it beckons, hell, anytime anything beckons, wake me, all right? I don't want to lose you." Hawkeye tried to hide the terror in his voice.

BJ caressed his cheek "I don't want to lose you either. Don't Newcombe on me."

Hawkeye nodded. The memory of Dr. Stephen Newcombe still haunted all the doctors of the 4077th. Hawkeye quickly kissed BJ. "Let's get some sleep."

In their separate cots, they each laid awake until BJ grumbled and settled in the chair next to Hawkeye where he reached out and clasped Hawkeye's hand.

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Charles woke first as he often did. He looked around at his tentmates and found Hunnicutt sleeping with a hand on Pierce's cot. The position looked uncomfortable. He watched his tent mates briefly. He moved and Hunnicutt's eyes opened. The chilly gaze made Charles step back one step. "Just going to my shift," he murmured.

Hunnicutt nodded and watched him. Charles dressed, feeling prickles run up and down his spine. He turned to go. Hunnicutt watched him with that flat stare, so reminiscent of a snake. Charles left quickly. In the Mess Tent, he ate his breakfast. He hated Hunnicutt when he looked like an ice statue, when those blue eyes turned diamond hard and lost any trace of humanity. Pierce was always passionate, always emotional. Even when upset or worn out, he fairly sparkled with life. While mellow and easy going, Hunnicutt had never had this stillness, this predatory motionlessness before.

"Margaret, please sit," he offered.

Major Houlihan sat down. "Thank you, Major. The two degenerates couldn't bother to wake up?"

"They are embalmed as usual." Charles sipped his coffee. "Margaret, you've known Hunnicutt longer than I. Is he acting odd lately?"

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I asked. Does he seem odd?"

Margaret shrugged. "He seems his typical 12 year old self. Why?"

"You don't think he had an affair recently, do you?"

Margaret started laughing. "BJ? Our BJ? Never. He's one man who knows what a vow is and keeps it." She eyed him slyly. "Didn't your little experiment teach you anything?"

"He's just acting a bit odd."

"How?"

Charles frowned. "He's bitter. Harsh."

Margaret stirred her coffee. "He seems fine. He hasn't acted angry. Just the usual tomfoolery. Just last week he and Pierce tried to make my underclothing into a camp flag. He is just over the flu. Maybe he's still weak."

"That doesn't explain his continual temper."

"I don't know what you mean." Margaret brushed back her hair. "Has he yelled at you, Charles?" Her blue eyes sparkled.

"He's just different." Charles sighed in frustration. "He's--harder. He's like a pacing tiger."

Margaret smiled indulgently. "BJ's more of a pussycat."

"Not unless pussycats have five inch claws and six inch fangs."

"Charles, just what does he do?"

Charles struggled to explain. "His--eyes. There's something there. God, I know I sound like a fool but there's something different there. Like a rabid dog." He slapped the table. "That's it. I had a hunting dog that tasted blood once and he got that gleam in his eyes."

"What did you do?"

"My father shot him." Charles finished his coffee.

"I hope you don't plan on shooting BJ because he's not bloodthirsty. BJ's one of the most decent men I know." Margaret drank her coffee.

Charles ground his teeth. He couldn't explain why Hunnicutt was different or why he even cared. But that look always bothered him, the sheer inhumanity. It was as if part of Hunnicutt had been torn away, lost. Charles finished his breakfast and hurried to Post Op. He mused over events as he checked patients. A gust of wind and Charles turned to find Flagg beside him. "Well, well, Colonel Flagg. Haven't you any other units to harass?"

"You don't worry about me. Where's your Commie comrade?"

"If you're looking for Communists, talk to the Chinese patients. If you're looking for Captain Hunnicutt, I'm not his keeper." Charles glanced at Flagg and then looked at him again. There, in Flagg's fiery eyes, he saw BJ's inhumanity, the alienness that so disturbed him.

"What are you staring at, Major?"

Pieces came together in Charles' brain. "You broke him," he murmured.

"What are you babbling about?" Flagg demanded.

"A funny thing, Colonel. A broken bone can heal stronger than it was originally." Charles wrote on a chart.

"How many of these are Hunnicutt's patients?"

"Why do you care, Colonel?" Potter stepped into the Post Op ward.

"He may be sending messages to the Chinese government."

"Buffalo bagels. Hunnicutt is not a Communist. Now come into my office."

Charles watched them leave and bit his lip. He had tried to understand Hunnicutt's torture, the nightmares, but finally realizing that Flagg's abuse had fractured something in BJ tore into his often buried compassion. It also raised his reluctant admiration. Charles hated and dreaded pain and he knew Pierce did as well. Hunnicutt was like Potter, enduring and stoic.

The smell of soap wafted to him and he turned as Hunnicutt and Pierce came into the ward. Charles swept forward. "You should go," he said. "Flagg is here."

Hunnicutt tensed then sighed as Pierce touched his arm. Then he headed for Potter's office. "Where are you going?" Charles demanded.

"To see Flagg. This is my place, not his."

"Beej, is this wise?"

Charles saw Hunnicutt's eyes soften, a gentleness and warmth entering his pale blue eyes as he glanced at Hawkeye. "I'll be fine, Hawk."

In Hawkeye's face, Charles read fear. BJ walked towards the office, Hawkeye trailing behind him and Charles following. Klinger typed as Hunnicutt came into the office. "Sir, you don't want to see the Colonel," Klinger stammered. "Not yet."

"I know Flagg's here."

Flagg came out of the office and BJ stepped forward, to stare the CIA officer in the eyes. For a long moment, they stared and BJ finally nodded. "This ends, Flagg," he quietly said.

"You're admitting you're a Commie?"

"No. I simply don't care about you anymore. Accuse me, beat me, I don't care. Just leave my patients and these people alone."

"And what do you plan on giving me?"

"Nothing," Hawkeye snapped.

"Either bring charges or don't. That's it."

"I will send you crying to your mama, you snivelling traitor."

"Give it your best shot."

Flagg glared, the coldness and sheer insanity making Charles inhale. BJ stared at him for long moments and then turned his back and left. "I'll be back, you Lenin lover."

"I'll be here, Flagg."

Hawkeye smiled and jogged after BJ. Charles watched as Hawkeye draped an arm over BJ's shoulders. The two doctors walked off.

At the minefield, Hawkeye looked at his lover and BJ smiled, eyes lighting. "Are you sure?"

"Hawk, I'm always going to have scars. But I can't stop Flagg or Wainwright." He exhaled. "And Flagg will be back, driving us crazy." He bent his head until his forehead touched Hawkeye's. "I'll have nightmares and shakes. But I'll be all right. As long as you're nearby." His eyes held shadows, fear, but most of all, deep love. "It's your choice."

Hawkeye placed both hands on BJ's face, studied those blue eyes which glowed with devotion. Instinctively, he knew what BJ was saying, the same questions he would ask. Here I am. Scarred, broken, but yours. Do you, can you, take me as I am? Hawkeye smiled. I can't believe he thinks of these things, the idiot. Then again, I have my insecurities, too. "I'm not going anywhere. I choose you," he whispered. "I love you."

This time, Hawkeye's cupped hands caught the tears.