Chapter Text
The phone call came in the middle of the night, because of course it did. Not for the first time, Hawkeye woke up and had trouble remembering where he was.
The still was gone, he couldn’t feel the breeze through the mesh walls of the Swamp, the bed he was lying on wasn’t a cot with a two-inch mattress, where the hell was he?
After about five seconds of disorientation, Hawkeye recognized his surroundings as his childhood bedroom in Crabapple Cove. Ah, right. The war had ended six months ago and he was back home.
Meanwhile, the phone was still ringing. Was it the hospital? One of his patients? That would be strange, since he hadn’t resumed emergency surgery since he returned from Korea. He was strictly a low-stakes surgeon as of late. Performing appendectomies and stitching minor wounds along with doing physicals was more than enough for the Hawkeye that returned from Asia in pieces.
Hawkeye sat up and stumbled over to the phone, still wondering who on earth could be calling at this hour. His dad was fast asleep, and he was positive none of his patients were critical. That left…no. Someone from Korea? Someone he hadn’t exchanged more than a few letters with since he returned to Maine and yet was on his mind constantly? What was the time difference from California to Maine, anyway?
“Hello?”
A woman’s voice on the other end of the line answered, “Hello, is this Hawkeye Pierce?”
He knew that voice, though he’d only heard it a few times. If he wasn’t so anxious about what the call was concerning he would’ve given himself a pat on the back for his almost psychic prediction.
“Peggy? What is it, what’s wrong?” He asked; this call in the wee hours of the morning wasn’t just for a casual chat.
“I’m so sorry about the hour, I just had to call you. It’s BJ.”
“What happened?” He was straight to the point, no nonsense. His heart felt like it had just dropped into his stomach.
Peggy cleared her throat. Was she holding back tears? Oh, god, it was so bad she was crying?
“He was in a motorcycle accident. He…sustained a severe head injury and he’s been unconscious for twelve hours. The doctors say he’s in a coma.”
Hawkeye’s brain seemed to stop functioning. “He…he’s hurt?”
“Yes, that’s one way to put it.” Peggy said curtly.
As his brain started forming thoughts again, Hawkeye began calculating how quickly he could get to California on such short notice.
“We fought just before he stormed off to blow off steam on his bike,” Peggy said almost absentmindedly. “We fought about you.”
Hawkeye couldn’t bring himself to think about what that implied at the moment. “Peggy, I’m going to find a way to get to California, okay? That’s why you called me, right?”
“I don’t know. I think so. I’m—I’m angry, and upset. And just plain scared.” Peggy said, audibly crying now.
“I know. I am too. I’m glad you called me. It’s gonna be okay, Peggy. We’ll…we’ll figure it out.”
“Always calm in a crisis, Hawkeye?” Peggy asked.
“No, not really.” Hawkeye said, thinking of Korea, and the way he would shut down mentally and let his body run on autopilot.
Of course back in Korea he had BJ to lean on.
“Well, I need someone to help me, and I don’t think it can be anyone but you. BJ…really cares about you. He needs you more than ever right now. Even though that’s hard for me to admit. Something was wrong with my husband long before he crashed his bike. And I know it had to do with you.”
“Peggy, I—“
“Please hurry. Goodbye.”
Without waiting for a response, Peggy hung up the phone.
Hawkeye put the phone down and put his face in his hands. His breathing started to quicken.
He was shaking all over, he realized belatedly. It reminded him of how he’d felt after seeing Radar on one of the triage gurneys at camp. Helpless and scared and somehow guilty.
The clock at his bedside read 3:34. Maine was about three hours ahead of California time difference wise. It must’ve been midnight where Peggy was waiting in the hospital alone, probably without even her young daughter to keep her company considering how late it was.
This wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined seeing BJ again, but there was nothing for it. Come hell or high water, he would be at BJ’s side by the end of the week. Earlier if at all possible.
Hawkeye dug out his duffel bag from the closet and started to throw some clothes into it. As he shuffled down the hall to the bathroom for his toiletries, he remembered that his dad had no idea what had happened. If he left without an explanation, dad would be worried sick.
“Dad. Hey, dad.” Hawkeye shook Daniel Pierce’s shoulder gently but urgently.
Daniel woke up with the practiced ease of someone used to working long hours.
“Ben? What is it?”
“It’s an emergency, dad, I gotta get to California.” Hawkeye said. After wincing at how blunt that sounded, he continued: “It’s BJ, my best friend, he’s hurt. Badly. I just got a call from his wife.”
Daniel had sat up and was looking at Hawkeye alertly. “How did it happen?”
“Motorcycle accident. He’s a motorcycle fiend, the last time I saw him he was on a motorcycle he fixed up. He drove way too fast all the time, and apparently he was upset when he left on his bike today. Or tonight. Or yesterday. Whatever, I need to go see him.”
“Of course you do. How are you getting there?”
Hawkeye waved an agitated hand and tousled his hair. “I guess I have to drive. I’d never afford a plane ticket this short notice and it would drive me crazy to have to follow a train’s schedule. I just woke you up to say goodbye, and to tell you not to worry. I need to go to him, dad, my heart’s racing as fast as Zátopek in the 1952 summer Olympics. Remember those? BJ bet on him to win the gold, and he did, though that was when BJ was able to move and run himself, now he’s in a coma and who knows whether he’ll be able to bet money on a race again.”
“Hawkeye—“
“If I leave right now, I should get to California in about two and a half days, but—“
“Hawkeye!”
“What, dad, I have to go! Don’t you understand? He’s my best friend, I can’t lose him. I was able to let him leave in Korea because I knew he’d be alive and well and not in a coma when we both got back to the states. And maybe we’d be able to see each other again if our schedules ever lined up. For dinner or something.”
Hawkeye knew he sounded desperate, but his thoughts were too big to keep contained. His fears were swirling around like a tornado in his skull and it was impossible to think of anything but how BJ was currently comatose in a hospital bed.
“Hawkeye,” his father sighed, “I was trying to tell you that I can help you get a plane ticket.”
“Dad, you—what? How?” Hawkeye cut himself off. Planes were expensive, and this flight wouldn’t be coming out of the army’s wallet.
“I set up a fund for you ages ago, in case you ever got married or had kids. And to be frank, neither of those things seem likely.”
“Gee, thanks, dad.” Hawkeye said with no heat, since he couldn’t deny that assessment.
“There’s enough in there for a round trip flight…if you are planning for it to be a round trip.” Daniel said.
Hawkeye tried to gauge his dad’s expression. Maybe dad knew more about how Hawkeye felt about BJ than he let on.
“Of course I’m coming back, dad. Just not right away, you know? I wouldn’t be able to go to work in Maine like nothing is wrong if BJ was mortally wounded in some hospital in California.”
Hawkeye internally questioned his use of the phrase “mortally wounded.” That made it all seem even worse, if that were possible. As if BJ was a casualty of the war and not a victim of his own road rage. And what was that rage about exactly? Peggy said it was about him. Little old me in ME, the part of his brain that still had to joke to get through the day piped up.
Daniel Pierce stood up and clapped Hawkeye on the shoulder. “I understand, Hawkeye. Let me make you some breakfast.”
“No, no, no, I have to get going, I don’t have time for breakfast!” Hawkeye said, to his dad’s retreating back.
“I won’t be able to call to get you a ticket for another hour or two at least. You can postpone your cross-country trip for the duration of a plate of eggs.”
Hawkeye couldn’t argue with that. Despite the nervous energy building up inside his stomach, he agreed to have a small breakfast.
After what seemed like an eternity, but was really only an hour and a half, Hawkeye had purchased a plane ticket over the phone with the money his dad had optimistically set aside for his nonexistent nuclear family and set about calling a cab to get him to the airport in Bangor, Maine.
Hawkeye felt jittery as they waited for the cab to arrive. He sat by the front door and bounced his leg up and down, responding to his dad’s attempts at conversation with monosyllabic answers.
They heard a honk from outside. Hawkeye shifted the curtain and locked eyes with the cab driver idling in the driveway. He waved and held up one finger, letting the cab driver know he’d be out in a minute.
“Thanks, dad.” He said, and pulled him in for a hug.
“What for, Ben?” Daniel seemed a bit surprised.
“For understanding, I suppose. I know it’s sort of…strange. Dropping everything and flying across the country like this.”
Daniel cupped Hawkeye’s face with both hands. “I love you. And I trust you. Take care of BJ and don’t worry about me.”
Hawkeye felt a rush of gratitude for his dad; he might not fully understand why Hawkeye was so desperate to cross the country for his “army buddy,” but he supported Hawkeye anyway.
Hawkeye smiled and gave him another hug. “Love you. I’ll see you later. California or bust!” Hawkeye said with fake bravado.
Daniel Pierce clapped him on the shoulder, and waved as he walked down to the cab. Hawkeye wondered how long it’d be before he returned to Crabapple Cove. And whether he’d be able to introduce his dad to a couple of Californians any time soon.