Okay, so I'm going to level with you. I haven't written a fanfiction (scratch that, I haven't written anything-fiction) in a few years, real-life kind of got in the way for a while there.
But recently, I rediscovered my love for MASH, so I've decided to give this a shot again - but go easy on me, it might take a wee while to ease back into it.
This story is a rewrite of Comrades in Arms (Season 6 Episode13/14)
Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
Hmph. This cannot possibly be happening. I cannot be driving through the wilderness with a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt over his fatigues or with a letter, written by my husband, but addressed to another woman (a woman he seems to get much more intimate with than he ever did with me)… and yet, here I sit, in a jeep, in the wilderness, with both the man and the letter around me.
I can unequivocally say - this is positively the worst day of my life.
One moronic half-conversation later, and now I'm being shelled by North Koreans (in fact, it could be South Koreans or Chinese or Americans, there's no way for me to tell at the moment). All I can tell you, is that they're loud and they're close.
"What are you doing?" I ask, as my body is thrown with the jeep's quick gear and direction change.
"Getting out of here. What do you think!", Hawkeye answers, with an ounce of fear, but also a good helping of patronisation - just enough to make me bristle, in a way that only Hawkeye Piece can.
"Keep moving!" I beg,
"You watch how fast I move once I turn around!"
"They're not gonna hit anything!" I argue, trying to convince myself as much as my driver.
"They're hitting the road! You don't call that anything?"
"What are you gonna do? Go backwards all the way home?" I can feel the order bubbling up inside me, but fear has not yet completely overruled logic and I know if I order this man to do anything he will do the opposite - he always was stubborn.
"I'm trying to find a place to turn around!"
Another shell blast cuts off the end of his remark and I scream, I've always hated loud noises, but loud noises that come from a source that could kill me are particularly unwelcome.
After a few more seconds of bickering, a shell landing just behind the jeep has my side of this fight, causing Hawkeye to quickly throw us back in gear and have us hurtling down the disappearing road.
And to think, I thought this day was bad an hour ago.
"Behind enemy lines", the words keep ringing in my head, like a very annoying alarm clock sent to alert us of our impending demise.
I cannot die out here. I cannot die before my dad. I cannot die with Major Margaret Houlihan in a jeep in the middle of the Korean countryside. I cannot be another war statistic, written into a ledger somewhere.
I can hear Margaret shouting questions at me, but I'm only half listening.
"I try to avoid roads that are in the process of disappearing" I explain as patiently as I can, although I'll admit that's still not all that patiently in these circumstances.
A noise catches my attention, a noise more terrifying than the shells exploding around us.
"What's that?" I ask, hoping against hope that it's all in my head.
"Artillery. Don't be such a coward."
"It's only when the engine is practically jumping out from under the hood that she notices, she must have been even more scared than I thought.
"Oh, that. Don't pay any attention"
Don't pay any attention… yep, that would be an excellent plan, if I didn't feel the power slipping out of her with every rotation of the wheels... quickly, she screeches to a halt.
"If you don't mind, I'm gonna go into a mild panic."
It's truly astounding that a fully grown man with a medical degree can be this uninterested and uneducated when it comes to the basic workings of a car… this day really couldn't get any worse.
"Why don't we pull a sheet over its headlights and move on?" Smartass, what does he think is going to happen? That another jeep is going to miraculously appear, we're in the middle of-
"Hey. Come on." The sound of Korean voices on the road turns my blood cold. I follow Hawkeye to a nearby bush and lay flat. I close my eyes, like an ostrich, hoping that if I can't see them, they can't see me.
I hear clanking, and the engine trying to turn over. It splutters but doesn't roar to life. More clanking. Then, there's footsteps… closer…closer. I don't even breathe for fear they'll hear me. Then suddenly, all in the same instant, the jeep roars to life and the Korean soldier who's spotted us roars with it.
Hawkeye and I both stand as quickly and carefully as we can, my hands are shaking as I raise them in surrender. I glance at Hawkeye who's eyebrows have sunk low on his face.
Before long there's a gun resting at the base of my spine, poised to shoot if I make any sort of movement. Hawkeye is in the same situation on the other side of the jeep, both of us still have our hands raised, even though my fingers long ago went numb.
My only comfort comes when Hawkeye's left boot slowly inches across the floor until it rests against my own.
It's such a small, almost insignificant, point of contact - but at that moment, it's the only thing that keeps me sane.
I wasn't kidding when I said it before… this is the worst day of my life.