Title: Through the Night
Author: Sarken (sarken@gmail.com)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Twentieth Century Fox owns M*A*S*H.
Author's note: I did Comrades and Arms without Hawkeye/Margaret. I'm scared. Please hold me.
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The bombs are bursting in the air, but life isn't a song. Hawkeye doesn't feel a growing sense of patriotism with each explosion and flash of white light; he feels more angry and (maybe, if it's possible) more frightened.
As their shelter, the little hut that could hardly withstand a rainstorm, falls to pieces around them, he wonders how she can sleep through it. She was so afraid, so angry, but now she's sleeping peacefully with her head resting against his shoulder. She should be awake from his movements as he dodges the bits of roof that are falling around them.
His heart pounds inside his chest, reminding him that although he is in hell, he can still die. He can hear the rhythm clearly; he doesn't need a stethoscope. It's as loud and clear as the artillery outside the hut. He wonders if his heart or the shelling will stop first.
He writes his will in his head and thinks about drawing it in the dirt floor, but he knows it won't comfort him. The doctor's handwriting will stare at him through the night, and if anyone finds their bodies, the words will be long gone, either trampled on or blown away.
He runs his fingers through the dirt and stares into the darkness, thinking this is what it's like to wait for death.
But hours pass and he sees daylight.
It must have been a different feeling.
:end: