See The Sun
Just a short drabble to get back into practise!!
Hawkeye Pierce sat on the swing on his front porch, his eyes shut tight against the wave of tears that threatened to overwhelm him. Dammit, I haven't cried up till now, I won't start. She hates weakness. He paused. Hated. She's past tense now. He couldn't quite believe that the woman he adored was dead. It had been so sudden. One minute she was breezing round the house, bursting at the seams with the child inside her, the next she was doubled over in pain. Hawkeye had been with her all the way, though all the pushing and panting, and the screaming. It had been worth it to hear the first cry of their daughter. But before he had even seen her face, Margaret had given another cry, and blacked out. The tears came spilling out as Hawkeye remembered his shock and horror. He had sat paralysed as medical terms flitted through his mind. The doctor attending the birth had shouted, screamed at him to move, to do something, but as he moved automatically to check her vital signs she had given a horrible chocking cry, and gone limp. He had rushed then, pounding at her chest, willing her to live, pressing her against him in the vain hope that his heart might give hers the strength it needed to keep beating. Then the terrible, crashing realisation that she wasn't going to, that her life spent saving others was a waste, and that he couldn't do anything about. A memory surfaced from many years ago, in the other place. You can't save everyone, Hawkeye, those are the rules. Hawkeye thumped the chair angrily. I don't care about the rules! I want my wife. I want my Margaret. I miss her. The mumble of voices floated out to him from the front room, where the window was open, providing some respite from the summer heat. How can they stand around and politely sip drinks and make conversation when I've just lost the entire reason for my existence? Do they not care? He felt weak with the emotions constantly flowing through him, draining him of the ability to think of anything but his beloved wife. He sat back and let the memories flit through his head, until a slight noise startled him. Turning, he saw BJ standing in the doorway, holding a small bundle in his arms.
"Hawk? Are you ok?"
"Oh yeah, just great. My perfect life is flitting off into the sunset, and I have nothing left."
"That's not true Hawk. You have a lot left. You have your father. He's never going to desert you." Hawkeye grunted, and turned away.
"You also have me, Peg, Charles, Colonel Potter, Klinger, Trapper and Radar." BJ had been devastated to hear of the death of one of his best friends, but had put his grief aside to help his friend. Seeing him so dead to everything hurt BJ, who couldn't begin to imagine the depths of Hawkeye's grief. He was also concerned that Hawkeye had so far refused to even look at his baby daughter, who had been cared for by Peg since their arrival.
"You have your daughter, Hawkeye. She's so beautiful, she looks just like Margaret."
"Don't you see, Beej? That's just the problem. She looks just like Margaret. Every time I look into her face, I'll see Margaret. But I'll never be able to have Margaret, ever again. She's gone Beej, I'll never see her face again, never smell her scent on the pillow in the mornings. And I have look after this, this - thing, that killed the most precious person in the world. How can I do that and not hate her? I don't want her to grow up hated, it'll just be kinder to send her away."
"But Hawk, she is a living breathing reminder of the love between you and Margaret. If you send her away you'll have none of that love left. If she stays, it'll be like the love you and Margaret had for each other is growing all the time, as she grows. Margaret gave you the biggest token of her love she could. Just hold her for a minute."
Hawkeye resisted, but seeing that BJ wasn't going to give up, he held out his arms for the child. His heart constricted as he looked into his daughter's face. BJ was right, she looked exactly like Margaret, her eyes were the same aquamarine blue. But Hawkeye found that the more he looked, the more comforted he felt. The little bundle in his arms was indeed the living breathing reminder of he and Margaret's all-consuming love for each other that BJ said she was. Every curve of her face reflected Margaret’s. Hawkeye felt the first pangs of anxiety. How could he have left this piece of himself to the care of strangers? He hugged her closer, and BJ, encouraged, left the porch to return to the anxious group gathered inside, giving them a discreet thumbs-up as he entered.
Outside, Hawkeye was rocking his daughter. “I’m sorry, my darling. You’re going to stay with me, and you’re going to be so happy. And when you’re older, I’ll tell you all the stories about your mommy and daddy, and where they met, and why she couldn’t be here to grow up with you. But she’ll always be looking out for you, and we’ll have a good life, I hope. I promise, my little Margaret.”
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