The sliding of a bolt jerked Frank Burns back awake. He felt cold fear curl in his chest as the door opened. He had to blink against the harsh light that poured through the open door. Two of his captors stood in the doorway. He tried to shrink further into the corner but couldn't get very far. Their hands grabbed him and dragged him out of the cell to answer more of their questions. He tried to hide in his mind, trying to make himself pass out before the pain started. But the North Koreans were proficient in keeping him in enough pain so that he didn't get his wish. Every day they questioned him, questions that he didn't know the answers to and the pain kept coming.
He had been coming back from leave in Tokyo, he remembered that day well. He had been complaining to the driver, a young man who couldn't have been older than 19 about his driving and threatening to put him on report. His name had been Private Michel Collins. Mortars had begun to fall from the sky, some hitting close to their jeep and they had to abandon it and race for the side of the road. Neither of them realized that they had driven into an ambush as North Koreans appeared all around them. Collins tried to protect Frank for some reason, and the North Koreans shot him. Frank had been taken prisoner and had been forced to leave Collins, Frank often wondered if Collins had been found in time to be saved.
Frank had been forced to march miles upon miles until they reached this place, some sort of base that was deep in enemy territory.
Frank had been thrown in this room, and after the first week he knew that whenever that door was opened all the way it only meant more pain. He lost count of the days, he never saw the sun or the moon these days, just his torturers.
He thought of many things as he sat in his cell. Mostly of his life at the 4077th, of the people there and his attitude towards them. He realized how big of a prick he had been to the people that surrounded him. He was embarrassed by all he said about South Koreans, how he thought he deserved a purple heart. How he gave Blake a very hard time, and how he wished he could take it all back. He regretted not taking the drinks Hawkeye offered, joining in on the pranks, blaming the nurses for his mistakes and always thinking himself above the enlisted men.
It seemed like a life time ago that he thought they he was so tough carrying around his pistol, worrying about money, and cheating on his wife that he didn't actually love. Promising a beautiful woman all sorts of things but never intending on keeping any of them. Terrorizing Radar because it made him feel like a big shot. He often wished he could go home, but now all he wished was that he was back there so he could tell them all that he was sorry.
It was that crummy camp that his mind tried to retreat to when the pain started. Because in all reality it was where he had been the happiest at. A warzone halfway across the world and he felt more comfortable there than he did in his home.
It was only when they were done with him for the day and he was once again left alone in his cell that he allowed his self to break down and cry silently.