Title: Thin Red Line

Characters: Father John "Dago Red" Mulcahy and Captain Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce

Rating: M

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: The Red Scare spreads to the 4077th when a no-nonsense colonel is sent to investigate one of their own.

Author's Note: Based on the characters portrayed by Rene Auberjonois and Donald Sutherland from MASH (1970), the original film production.

In response to persimmon's whump challenge. As always, please ignore any typos. I don't always catch them right away. Thanks for reading. –RW

Possibly the best thing about being freed from the Freedom Camp was the fact that all the men were housed together in a barracks, free to do as they pleased so long as they didn't go off base. Hawkeye had felt a cold dread at the thought of seeing Grayson here, remembering the hot, dark cells and the interrogation room, but the accommodations this time were much better. Each man had been issued new uniforms and their dog tags had been returned to them. They'd also each been given a shower kit, which Hawkeye took great pleasure in.

He had immediately gone for the showers, taking his time in bathing and shaving the scruff from his face, thoroughly scrubbing his skin clean. Next on the agenda was food. He had never been a fan of army food, but after a week of cabbage stew—and three days of absolutely nothing at all—Hawkeye would have eaten a shoe if it'd been presented to him and there had been enough ketchup. He made three trips through the chow line before he felt like he was going to pop, and finally called it quits for lunch.

Henry had disappeared shortly after their arrival, and Hawkeye had been told by some corporal that Blake and several others were in a meeting, but that Henry had given him a message to take Hawkeye over to the hospital wing where Dago was being kept. Hawkeye anxiously followed the corporal, thanking him briefly as they came to the large hospital wing. Several cots were taken up by wounded soldiers, but at the far end of the ward, a privacy screen had been set up. Hawkeye knew that must have been Dago's bed and he quickly headed for it.

Dago was, as Henry had said, unconscious, but he was alive. He was hooked up to an IV in one arm and plasma in the other. The nurses had obviously given him a sponge bath, and had removed the stitches in his lip, but they had not shaved him or washed his hair.

In the light of the ward, Hawkeye could see just how gaunt Dago was, his cheekbones prominent. There were dark smudges under Dago's eyes, alluding to the sleep deprivation he had endured over the last week, but the sunburn at least seemed to be healing. The skin of his nose and forehead was starting to peel, revealing new pink skin beneath and a hint of freckles.

"Would you like a chair?" A woman's voice asked.

Hawkeye turned to see a nurse and smiled at the sight of her pretty, young face. "Sure, honey, that'd be swell."

She smiled and trotted off, returning moments later with a metal folding chair. "He's doing much better than when he got here sometime last night. He seemed comatose, but he woke up a few hours ago for a minute or two."

"Did he say anything?"

"He asked for water. All we could give him was ice chips, though. The doctors wanted him on the saline and plasma for a while before we let him eat or drink anything." She gave Dago a pitying look. "They say he was tortured."

"He was." Hawkeye said quietly.

"Was it the Chinese?"

"No." He paused, looking from Dago to her. "It was our guys."

She looked horrified. "Our guys? You can't be serious!"

Hawkeye sat down, finding himself relaying the story from start to finish to the nurse. Her face went from disbelief, to shock, to outrage, before she finally looked down at Dago with tears in her eyes, then threw arms around Hawkeye's torso, leaning over him as she hugged him tightly. He couldn't help but grin as he felt her heavy bosom against him, having missed the sight and feel of beautiful girls whilst he was imprisoned. He felt somewhat guilty, knowing he hadn't come to the hospital wing to sneak off with a nurse; he was there to check on Dago.

He pat her gently on the back. "If you don't mind, I'd like a minute alone with my friend."

"Of course." She straightened and looked at him through her lashes. "If you need anything…just ask."

Hawkeye watched her saunter off, then shook his head and looked back at the sleeping chaplain. Dago's hand was draped across his stomach, and Hawkeye reached for it, gently taking it in his own. "Dago?"

The words were soft, but they stirred the priest. Dago slowly opened his eyes, looking up at Hawkeye sleepily. He looked confused for a long moment, then closed his eyes and tentatively licked his lips. "I must be dead."

"Why do you say that?"

"You haven't been clean shaven since I met you."

Hawkeye laughed heartily despite himself and squeezed Dago's hand. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm tired." Dago said, his voice weary. "Am I still in Seoul or did they send me back to Hell?"

"You're in Seoul; we all are. I'm not sure who to thank—you or the guard that brought you here—but…well, it's a long story. Let's just say the worst is over."

"I only remember bits and pieces of the last few days," Dago admitted. "I remember being in the hole, and then you telling me it would be alright. I…remember bodies. And the guard was arguing with himself. Then I woke up and I was here. Someone, a doctor maybe, told me was in the infirmary at HQ, but that's all I remember."

Hawkeye didn't want to tell Dago about the mass grave Henry had mentioned, and he could only assume that the guard had intended on killing Dago and dumping his body. He was grateful for whatever had stopped him from doing so, but could only assume that he'd been right in what he'd told West—the man simply hadn't had the courage to kill a priest and incur the wrath of God.

"Probably for the best anyways," Hawkeye said.

Dago nodded, his eyes closed. "I'm glad you're here, Hawkeye."

"Get some rest, babe. You've earned it. Maybe if they let you eat later, I'll bring you something."

"No cabbage." Dago said with a wry voice.

Hawkeye grinned and squeezed Dago's hand. "Deal. See you in a bit."

Henry surfaced later that afternoon as Hawkeye milled about the compound. He looked about as tired as Dago had and rubbed his forehead as they walked.

"Boy, what a mess this is," Henry grumbled as he strode with Hawkeye. "That Grayson clown went AWOL when he heard there was an investigation going on. We've interrogated the guards from the prison. Some of them won't talk, but the majority have said that they received orders from a General who never gave his name. They were told this was a top secret assignment, and that all of you men were dangerous criminals and threats to the American way of life. General Royce is in conference now trying to decide what to do. They're going to start interviewing all of you to try and clear the charges, but it isn't certain yet whether or not a trial will be held."

"How come you're roped into all of this, Henry?"

"Because Hammond and I went to the camp, and Royce and I witnessed West blow his brains out. Hammond's given his statement on what he saw and heard, but since it wasn't his men in trouble, they don't need him here like they need me." Henry sighed. "Have you been by to see Dago Red? How's he doing?"

"He woke up for a few minutes when I stopped by earlier. He said he only remembers bits and pieces of what happened. I didn't fill him in on the missing parts."

"Probably for the best."

"Henry, I think you should call in a shrink or something to talk to Dago." Hawkeye said with seriousness. "Maybe someone from his club—you know, another priest or something. I'm worried about him. The things he went through…you weren't there to see him, Henry. He started questioning whether or not God actually exists. I mean, you know I don't believe in God, but we're talking about Dago here."

Henry's mouth pulled into a tight line. "I'll have someone from the vicar's office go over and visit with him. How about you, Hawkeye? If you need to talk to someone…"

"Nah, I'm okay. It was hell, but it's over. Justice was served when West shot himself. I'm only sorry I wasn't the one to put the bullet between his eyes."

Henry patted his back. "Yeah, you and me both. Listen, they've granted everyone phone privileges. If you want, you can call your wife. They've asked that you not discuss the details of the situation though."

Hawkeye nearly swooned at the thought of getting to actually talk to his wife. Phone calls to and from home were rare. Beyond rare. He couldn't remember ever talking to Mary or the boys since he'd been in Korea. Letters, of course, but their actual voices… "How long are we limited to?"

"Ten minutes." Henry replied. "Make the most of them."

Mulcahy stared up at the ceiling in the infirmary. The last week seemed like some horrible nightmare. Had it not been for his wounds and weakened state, he might believe it had never happened. He still couldn't believe a vast majority of it, but supposed that, perhaps, that was normal.

"Good afternoon, Father Mulcahy." A man's gentle voice broke Dago's reverie and he dropped his gaze to see an older man in an officer's uniform standing at the foot of his bed. The man was tall and solid, with very thin gray hair and a short gray mustache. A row of service ribbons were pinned above the left breast pocket, and each notched lapel bore a silver U.S. pin and a cross. Two silver stars graced the top of each of his shoulders.

Dago recognized the man right away as Major General Roy Parker, the Army Chief of Chaplains. He jerked upright in the bed, immediately regretting the automatic response and groaning slightly in pain as he offered a salute. "Forgive me, sir; I would stand but…"

The older man laughed gently and seated himself in the chair that Hawkeye had vacated earlier. "At ease, Father. Word's been getting around about the ordeal you and some of the other boys have been through…I thought maybe I should come by and see how you were doing. It must have been quite an experience."

"Yes…it was quite unbelievable. I still can't quite wrap my mind around it all."

"Understandably." Parker said kindly, folding his hands together and leaning towards Dago, his eyes kind and unassuming. "If you would like to talk about what happened, John, I would be more than happy to listen. It might help you to make sense of it."

"I wish I knew where to start." Dago told him, absently rubbing the peeling skin of his forehead.

"How about the beginning. How did you come under suspicion in the first place."

"Well, I wasn't under suspicion, initially. It was Hawkeye—Captain Pierce—that Colonel Grayson was investigating. I didn't know that right away of course; the colonel simply expected me to tell him everything I knew about anyone in the camp that might be 'unpatriotic.' I understand the treat of communism to the American government, but I couldn't in good conscious betray any of the men or women I serve with. We've all said a negative thing or two about this war, and those who were drafted are angry about being here, but none of them are communists or traitors. It wasn't right for me to give up anything they might have said to me, or anything I might have overheard—seal of confession or not."

"You seem strongly convicted about that decision not to betray anyone in your unit," The man said gently. "Would you, knowing everything that happened as a result of that stance, follow that same course of action?"

Dago thought for a long moment. "Yes. I absolutely would."

"And it was your resistance that led to your arrest."

"It was. Colonel Grayson was a volatile man, and become quite physical when he realized I would give him nothing on Hawkeye or the others in camp. He tried to beat a confession out of me, and when I still refused to speak, he sent me along with Hawkeye to the Freedom Camp."

"Tell me what happened there, John."

Dago told him about how they'd arrived just before lunch that first day, and how they'd been sent out that afternoon to work. He described the physical and mental drain of the long hours of labor, and how Hawkeye's good intentions to get him bandages for his hands had somehow led to West giving him 50 lashes and shutting him away in the hole.

"I have never been more frightened in my entire life," Dago's voice shook with the admission and there was a faraway look in his eyes as he relived the moment in his mind. "I remember screaming in terror…so certain I was going to die. I remember pouring myself into prayer, begging for mercy, for comfort, for some sign that God had not abandoned me… and I remember feeling this…pit…this void inside of me. I was hollowed out of everything—emotion…faith—there was nothing. I couldn't understand how God could have ignored my cries for help. I was so angry…so devastated…"

"How did you cope?"

"Not well. Part of me started wondering if there truly is a God, the other part was ashamed for such thoughts, and still another part of me was so angry. Angry at God, and angry at myself for not being of stronger faith. I'm a priest…without my faith in God, what good am I? How can I expect to lead others to the Light?"

"Are you still plagued with such thoughts?"

Again Dago remained silent as he considered the question. "Yes and no. I still feel that my faith is not what it was, and I worry what that has done to me and my ability to minister to others."

"If faith was static, we would never grow. We would never be able to walk in another man's shoes and understand his plights and his journeys. How can you expect to lead a man with no faith to the Lord if you have never known what it is like to not believe or to question His existence? Only God can say why you endured such a trial, John, but the Bible tells us that our faith is to be put to the fire so that we know what we are truly made of."

Dago felt his eyes sting with tears. He had considered this experience a possible test of his faith, and if it were, he was truly ashamed with himself. "I fear I failed miserably if this was a test."

"Perhaps," Parker shrugged. "But perhaps not. God knows your heart, John. We have all been angry with God; I myself have often asked Him to reveal to me why things happened in such a way. But, I see you now; and I see a man of faith who has been shaken and changed—yes—but not necessarily changed for the worse. You can take what has happened to you and let it drag you down, or you can pull yourself up from the ashes and rebuild a stronger foundation in which to serve Him."

Dago felt empowered and humbled by the man's observation and encouragement. He had been so narrow sighted that he had only been able to see the negatives of the situation and his faults in the matter. He hadn't been able to see how this could have changed him for the better. The chief of chaplains stayed a while longer and prayed with Dago for strength, for guidance, for forgiveness and mercy, and for healing—physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. When the man left, Dago felt renewed and nearly whole again. He knew that a major part of moving on from this experience would be to forgive Grayson and West for their treatment, but he wasn't quite at that point yet. There was still much prayer and reflection needed before he would be there.

"I love you, too." Hawkeye said into the phone receiver as he wiped his eyes with his fingertips. "Say hi to Dad for me."

As he and Mary said their tearful goodbyes, Hawkeye hung up the phone. Ten minutes to call home had been more than he'd ever dreamed of getting, and yet it certainly wasn't enough. He'd been able to talk to his wife and two young sons, but he wanted more. It made him ache for Crabapple Cove and the comforts of his home and family.

Mary had been relieved to hear that he'd been released from the prison camp, and had bawled for half the conversation, Tommy had simply asked when he'd be coming home and if he'd gotten him any presents, and Charlie had told him about the tooth he'd lost the day before and how the tooth fairy had left him a whole quarter. It had been the highlight of Charlie's life, as far as the child was concerned and it filled Hawkeye's heart with a mixture of joy and sadness. How he longed to be there.

Hawkeye wandered through the compound, reflecting on his family, when he remembered Dago. He quickly turned in the direction of the infirmary, eager to see a familiar face, and was just in time to see Dago shaking hands with an older man, who turned and left the chaplain's bedside. The two men's eyes met and the older man nodded and smiled to Hawkeye before continuing on his way. Hawkeye headed over to Dago's side and took up the seat.

"Who was that?"

"The Chief of Chaplains." Dago told him. "He came by to see how I was doing."

"How are you doing?" Hawkeye asked curiously, knowing the other man had been here probably because Hawkeye had nudged Henry about it.

"Better." The priest admitted with a soft smile.

"Good." Hawkeye smiled in return. "They gave us all a ten minute phone call…I just got off the phone with my wife and kids."

"I can imagine how relieved they were to hear from you."

"Yeah, and I can't tell you how good it felt to talk to them."

"I'm sure." The chaplain fell quiet for a long moment before he gave Hawkeye a peculiar look. "Hawkeye…the thing that happened in the hole…"

"Yeah?"

"I…I'm still not sure what to think or feel about that. I understand you were trying to take my mind off of everything, but why that approach?"

"It was the only thing I could come up with at the time." Hawkeye admitted with a shrug. "It was getting hard to think, so I knew I couldn't talk you down the way you'd talked me down from panic, and I know how good it feels to get off… So, to me, it seemed like the best option."

"I suppose I should thank you, oddly enough, but I simply can't reconcile that experience with everything else."

"I know you think all that kind of stuff is a sin, Dago, but don't you think God would make an exception given the circumstance in which it happened? If nothing else, tell him I made you do it. I didn't really give you a choice in the matter."

"I could have stopped you."

"Could you have?" Hawkeye asked seriously. "You tried to tell me no, I ignored you. There was no way you could have physically overpowered me."

Dago considered that for a moment. "I suppose you're right."

"Look, don't beat yourself up over it. It was an extreme situation. As they say, drastic times call for drastic measures."

"I suppose you're right about that, too. But…well…what happens now that I know what it feels like? I have abstained from sex and masturbation my entire life."

"How can you go back to the farm now that you've seen Paris?" Hawkeye smirked, knowing what Dago was getting at. "You're asking the wrong person, babe. I'd tell you there's nothing wrong with a little self-abuse."

Dago looked slightly uncomfortable and still uncertain, but he said nothing.

"If it happens that you find yourself in that predicament…come find me, okay?" Hawkeye offered. "I'll help you think of some way to take your mind off it."

The chaplain blushed furiously, averting his eyes. "Thank you, Hawkeye."

"Don't mention it." Hawkeye smirked in amusement.

"I thought I might find you up here, Pierce," Henry's voice said from just behind the doctor. Both men looked up at their commanding officer, who looked from Hawkeye to Dago. "Padre, it's good to see you awake."

"Thank you, Colonel. It's good to be seen, I think."

"I should say so. How do you feel?"

That seemed to be the only question people could ask Dago, but he found it was nice that the others seemed to care. "Much better, though I think I could stand a solid meal. The IV isn't doing much for me."

Hawkeye and Henry both chuckled, but it was Henry that spoke. "I'll see what I can do for you, Padre. Pierce, I think General Royce and his panel are just about ready for you if you have the time. The sooner the better; I need my best cutter back in camp. We've been lucky not to have heavy casualties while you were gone, but I don't want to chance it much longer. Not with both of us here in Seoul."

"Sure thing, Henry. Dago, I'll stop by later."

Dago nodded and watched the doctor head off towards the door, listening to his whistle as it faded off down the corridor. "Hawkeye's in good spirits. That's comforting."

"I think talking to his wife had a lot to do with that," Henry said as he sat by the chaplain. "Listen, Padre, I want to say how sorry I am that this happened to you both. I feel somewhat responsible; like I should have done more to protect you and Pierce from the interrogation by Colonel Grayson."

"There's nothing you could have done, Henry. And placing yourself between us could have landed you in the same situation. I'm just grateful you were able to get us out of there—to get all of us out of there. Some of those men had been there so long. I don't know how they survived it. Well…actually, I do. They didn't have Hawkeye with them."

Blake laughed softly, knowing the priest was jesting, and patted Dago's knee through the white bed sheet. "Pierce really can't help himself, can he?"

"He means well." Dago said with fondness.

"Well, I hope this experience has taught him that there are consequences to the things he says and does. Maybe we'll see a few less pranks from him."

"I wouldn't wish that on him, Henry."

"Heck, maybe you're right." Blake said, adjusting his glasses. "Well, I just hope he tones it down a little."

The two men shared a quiet laugh, before Henry looked at Dago with a solemn expression. "What is it, Henry?"

"General Royce is going to want to get your account of what happened this past week," Henry told him. "Pierce told me that your memory is a bit fuzzy on some of the events that happened prior to your arrival here. I wasn't going to tell you about it, but…well, I think you should have a clear understanding of the lengths West was willing to go to ensure that word didn't get out about his little camp."

Dago sat forward, intently. "I'm listening."

"The guard that brought you in turned himself over to the MP's, and told us the story of what exactly transpired. He said that West had locked you and Hawkeye together in what they called the 'hole' for three days. When he finally released you, you were hovering on death's doorstep—dehydrated, practically starved. He told me that you weren't the first to wind up in that condition, but rather than provide aid, West had given orders for the guard to take each man to a mass grave site he had dug, and put a bullet in their skull. West intended for the guard to do the same with you, but you were the first priest to end up in that position and the guard simply couldn't pull the trigger when the time had come. He told us he'd rather spend the rest of his life in Leavenworth than to go to Hell for killing a man of God."

The bits and pieces Dago remembered suddenly became clearer. He remembered Hawkeye putting him in the jeep, demanding to know where he was being taken, before telling Dago that everything would be alright. He remembered being woken up by the guard talking to himself and yelling at the heavens, as the young boy waved his pistol around wildly. Dago had still been in the jeep, but he'd turned his head to see a large crater dug into the ground, and a dozen or so rotting corpses laying in the pit. He knew he must have made a noise of fright because the boy had turned on him, pointing the gun at him, his hand shaking violently as he tried to summon the courage to take Dago's life, but he had fallen to his knees in the dirt, sobbing. Dago had lost consciousness again at that point and could only assume that that had been when the guard had brought him to HQ. He quietly thanked God for protecting him from that fate. "What happened to West? Has he been arrested?"

"When we showed up to arrest him, we found him with his gun turned on Hawkeye. He was in a state of panic, and when we told him to lower his weapon, he turned the gun on himself. He died instantly from a self-inflicted gunshot wound."

Dago closed his eyes, trying not to envision the gruesome thought. "I'm sure there is a special place in Hell for him."

As a moment of silence passed between them, Henry felt uncertain. "Should I have told you all of this?"

"Despite the fact that I realize how very close to death I came to last night…yes. It fills in the blanks for me and helps make sense of what I do remember."

Henry patted Dago's knee again. "Rest up, Padre. If you need anything, I'll be around."

"Thank you, Colonel."

Once alone, Dago closed his eyes, trying not to think of what could have been. Though he had enjoyed the visits throughout the day, he suddenly felt very drained. Settling back in the bed, the chaplain closed his eyes, once again thankful that he was here and he was safe, as were all the others.

The following morning, Hawkeye had shown up with a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of orange juice for Dago. Under his arm were a shower kit and a clean uniform. Hawkeye took the liberty of removing the IV and plasma needles from Dago's arms, placing a cotton ball and Band-Aid over the puncture marks before he handed the priest the breakfast.

"It's not cabbage stew, but it'll have to do." Hawkeye teased. "Eat slowly."

Dago nodded and spooned the first bite of oatmeal into his mouth. It was warm and sprinkled with cinnamon, the way his mother had made when he'd been a boy. Dago closed his eyes as he savored the flavor, letting it slide down his throat. "Oh, thank you, Hawkeye…this is wonderful."

"It's passable." Hawkeye said as he sat down.

Dago shook his head, "It's much more than passable."

"I spoke with the doctor that runs this joint," Hawkeye told him. "After breakfast, you've been cleared to check out. I thought you might want to get a shower and a shave. Oh, and your tags."

Dago watched Hawkeye reach into his break pocket and retrieve a set of dog tags and a cross on a long chain. His cross. Hawkeye slipped them over Dago's head as if he were placing a medal around his neck and the priest smiled at the familiar tinkling of the metal as it settled in the middle of his chest. "They almost become part of you, don't they?"

"I guess they kinda do," Hawkeye said as he sat back. "Now if we can just scrub you clean, you might almost look presentable."

The chaplain chuckled. "You don't think I'd look distinguished with a beard?"

Hawkeye cocked his head and looked at him appraisingly. "No. It doesn't suit you. You're too clean. And it makes you look older than you really are."

Dago stroked the scraggly hair on his cheeks and chin. "I suppose I have to agree. I haven't exactly seen myself in a mirror, but I'm sure I must look a fright."

Hawkeye filled Dago in on how his interview with Royce had gone and all the questions he'd been asked. As was typical, Pierce's reputation had preceded him, and he'd been lectured about appropriate military behavior. After promising to behave himself as any respectable captain of the army would, Peirce had been cleared and dismissed, free to return to the camp.

"I'd like to wait until our chaplain is cleared, if it's all the same." Hawkeye had asked. "I got him into this mess, it's only fair that I see him through it."

They had granted this request, saying that they would speak to the priest as soon as Mulcahy was ready. While Hawkeye was certainly not eager to return to an OR full of broken bodies, he was eager to get back to the Double Natural with Trapper, Duke and the others...which was part of the reason Hawkeye wanted to get Dago up and about. The sooner the priest was on his feet, the sooner they could both be cleared and headed home.

When Dago had finished his oatmeal and orange juice, Hawkeye rubbed his hands together. "How 'bout that shower?"

Dago nodded eagerly, sliding out of the bed. His arm and leg muscles were still sore from the weeks' worth of abuse, but he felt stronger than he had in days. Hawkeye found a hospital robe and tossed it to Dago, then carried the clean uniform and shower kit as he led the chaplain to the nearest shower.

The priest stood under the warm shower spray for a long moment, reveling in the fact that it didn't reek of sulfur. He picked up the soap and scrubbed from head to toe, mindful of his still mending nose. Once rinsed, he lathered his face with shaving cream and began to shave off the week-old whiskers. Finally, he picked up the small bottle of shampoo and lathered it through his dirty, oily hair, rinsing his entire body until the water ran clear, then repeating the entire process again until he felt like he could squeak from being so clean.

Wrapping up in a thick towel, Dago carefully dried himself off, running a comb back through his hair, then pulled on the clean uniform. He looked at himself fully in a mirror for the first time in a week. He had lost weight, but had gained a bit of muscle in his arms and shoulders. Other than the bruise across the bridge of his nose and the healing cut on his lip, Dago supposed he only looked marginally worse for wear given the circumstances. He knew his back was still bruised and cut from the lashes several days ago, but even that was improving.

Dago left the showers, finding Hawkeye leaning against the wall nearby, shaking his hand back and forth as if he were about to roll a set of dice. He grinned as he spotted the chaplain and gave a whistle. "Almost didn't recognize you. Here, I found something for you."

Hawkeye opened the palm of his hand to reveal two lapel pins in the shape of silver crosses. Dago watched as the doctor pinned the crosses on him and smiled as he suddenly felt whole again. "Thanks."

"Sure." Hawkeye paused and shuffled the dirt between them with his toe. "If you're ready to give your recount of the week's events, they're waiting for you… With any luck we could be back to the 4077th before supper."

Dago took a deep breath and nodded. "I suppose now's as good a time as any."

"I'll be waiting for you."

The chaplain headed off towards where Hawkeye instructed him to go and soon found himself sitting before several high-ranking officers, including the Judge Advocate General and Henry Blake. He felt sweat beading at his hairline, and had to remind himself that these men weren't going to harm him as Grayson and West had. With some effort, he answered their preliminary questions without too much of a quake in his voice, then told them everything he remembered just as it had happened.

When he'd reached the end, the other men sat staring at him strangely. General Royce peered at him over the top of his reading glasses. "On behalf of the United States and the Armed Forces, let me extend my most sincere apologies, Father. I want to assure you that the responsible parties, when we discover who is behind this, will pay a hefty price for their crimes. Let the record state that on this day, Father John Patrick Mulcahy, Chaplain, has been cleared of all charges relating to conspiracy and is no longer under suspicion of communist activity. You may return to your unit as soon as you're ready."

Dago blinked, almost feeling as though he'd missed something. That was it? Apologies were all well and good, but where was the hammer of justice? West might be dead, so no charges could be brought on his head, but surely there was something that could be done to ensure that this type of unwarranted cruelty would never occur again. A simple 'I'm sorry' just didn't seem like enough in this case. He felt incensed, but he held his tongue. It would do no good to fall to pieces now that he and the others were free and clear. He would have to entrust the serving of justice to God.

Still…it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Hawkeye, Dago and Henry had all left HQ together after lunch, with Hawkeye behind the wheel and Henry and Dago holding on for dear life. A mile out from the Double Natural, Hawkeye began to lay on the horn, and by the time they rolled in the camp, the entire personnel was there, cheering wildly. Trapper, Duke and several of the nurses swallowed up Hawkeye, but it was Painless and Bandini who came over and offered their hands to help Dago from the jeep.

"It's good to have you back, Dago Red." Painless said, dragging Dago into a fierce hug and clapping him hard on the back. Dago winced, but bit back a cry of pain, blinking away the tears that stung his eyes as fire lit up along his back.

Thankfully the others that greeted him merely shook his hand, and the fire gradually began to die out. The two of them were swept into the mess tent, where word had obviously preceded their arrival, and a feast of roast beef and mashed potatoes had been prepared, and a party was to follow to celebrate their safe return. The tables were arranged in a long U-shape with Dago and Hawkeye side-by-side at the head.

"Y'all listen up now, ya hear?" Duke said, clinking his glass with a fork. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the young surgeon. "Now, it's been real tough without Hawkeye and Dago Red-o but I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say it's nice to have you fellas back here where you belong. We're glad y'all made it back here in one piece."

"What was it like?" One of the nurses called from somewhere near the back.

"What was it like?" Hawkeye asked, not sure how to answer that question. He looked at Dago briefly and saw a pair of azure eyes staring back at him on either side of a broken nose. "It was hell. That's the only way to describe it."

Hawkeye's failure to crack a joke or downplay the seriousness of the situation brought an uncomfortable air to the room that only dissipated when Trapper told the others to stop hounding them with questions. Dago sat quietly next to the doctor, eating and drinking with some greed, and noticing that Hawkeye also seemed to be refraining from saying much. When the party started after the meal, Dago stayed for a round of drinks, then excused himself. He was still far too exhausted and far too sore to exert himself more than was absolutely necessary.

He returned to his tent for the first time in over a week and looked around at the familiarity of it. His Bible was laying open on his desk, exactly where he had left it. His purple stole hung from a nail beside the door of the tent. His bed was neatly made, his clothes still in his footlocker. It was as if time had frozen here, unaware of the chaos that had happened beyond the tent flaps. He felt safe knowing that this was his tent, and the things in here were his things, but he also felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness as he stood there in the middle of the small room. For a week, damn near every time he'd turned around, Hawkeye had been there, watching over him in some capacity. Now, though there was no real danger at the 4077th—at least not the kind of danger he'd just experienced at the Freedom Camp—Dago knew that there would be no one watching out for him. He would fade into the background as he had been before Grayson had shown up. He would be acknowledged and spoken to, mocked and teased in good fun, but when it came down to it, no one would ask him how he was doing, no one would care if he was eating enough, drinking enough, or sleeping enough.

He supposed that would be alright. He'd grown accustomed to being next to invisible, and now that he'd spent a week at the top of West's punishment list, he would be glad to get out of the limelight. He'd never enjoyed being the center of attention, anyway. Still, though, a little company time and again wasn't too much to ask for, was it?

Dago sighed and sat down on the edge of his bunk, leaning down to unlace his boots when there was a soft knock on the door. He glanced up, surprised. "Come in?"

The door creaked open and Hawkeye stepped in, his hands in his pockets. "I saw you leave."

"I'm still feeling a bit tired; I didn't want to overdo it." Dago explained, then found himself adding. "It feels strange to be back here. They're never really going to understand how bad it was. I keep finding it hard to believe we were only gone a week."

"I know," Hawkeye said, moving over and sitting next to Dago on the bunk. "I know they all mean well, but I feel really pissed off at Trap and Duke for wanting to throw us a party. Don't they know what happened? Don't they know what West did to us and the others?"

"No," Dago told him bluntly. "And if they did, I'm not sure they'd understand. They might feel bad for us, angry even, but you and I still can't believe it, Hawkeye…how can we expect them to?"

"I thought I'd be happy to be back here…but now that I am…I dunno. I guess I am happy, but at the same time…I'm not."

"I know what you mean. Just before you got here, I was thinking that it feels like nothing changed here in our absence." Dago said. "But you and I have changed. We experienced something that is going to affect us for the rest of our lives. It's going to take time to pick up where we left off."

Hawkeye took a deep breath and blew it out slowly through his lips. "So what do we do until then?"

"The best we can," Dago offered with a shrug. "And if nothing else, we always have each other to turn to."

Hawkeye's lip corners curled slightly upwards and he cast a sideways glance at the priest. "Especially when certain thoughts start to plague you."

Dago narrowed his eyes at the doctor, but the amused expression on Hawkeye's face was infectious and he found himself laughing slightly as he shook his head. "You're impossible, Hawkeye Pierce."

"Impossible or Ingenious?" Hawkeye teased, draping his arm around Dago's shoulders. "We're like brothers now. Bonded by blood…and semen."

The priest made a noise of disgust and threw Hawkeye's arm off. "Get out before I start to regret my decision to defend you to Grayson."

Hawkeye laughed, standing up and ruffling Dago's hair. The chaplain swatted at his hand.

"I mean it!" Dago told him, thrusting a pointed finger towards the door. "Out!"

"Alright, alright… I'm going." He paused near the door and gave Dago a serious look. "Honestly, babe…if you need anything."

The chaplain smiled softly despite his irritation. "The same goes for you. My door is always open…except for right now."

Hawkeye snorted a laugh and bid the priest goodnight. Dago stared after him for a long moment, then took a ragged breath. Suddenly the loneliness seemed to dissipate and a sense of comfort gradually settled in.

They would get through this; together.

FIN

Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed! - RW