Chapter Text
*~*~* Chapter 1 *~*~*
The monthly conference at the 4077th was due soon and Sidney was organising his army issue suitcase to head to his favourite hellhole. There was nothing he loved more than losing himself in a card game and losing most of his pay with it. Of course he wasn't just going for cards, he was going for him...a tall Italian enigma of a surgeon who both fascinated and perplexed Sid. Henry hadn't been forthcoming on the phone but just said he needed Hawkeye observed for a few days – for what reason Sidney did not know but he figured it would become clear once he arrived. As he piled into the jeep outside his room in Seoul he became laser focused on his drive to Uijeongbu hoping to avoid as many of the mortars he knew would decorate his journey. It wasn't a long journey between Seoul and Uijeongbu, thirty or so miles but when the jeep can't manage more than about 25 mph, despite supposedly having a top speed of 60 mph, on top of dealing with roads that resembled swiss cheese it would take just over an hour to get there. To see the gang, to see him.
Hawkeye Pierce was something to be beheld; tall, dark haired, skinny, Italian parentage, with the most beautiful blue eyes that had so much innocence behind them. Hawkeye was by no means naïve, but he tended to view the world with an optimism that if asked he would fervently deny. He forgot that not everyone had the same heart as he did, it was to his betterment as a doctor but to his detriment as an officer. Sidney wondered if Hawkeye had had his heart broken by the war again, like when his childhood friend Tommy Gillis had passed on his operating table. There was something familiar in Hawkeye's reaction that Sidney noticed, heartbreak, not just from the loss of a friend but more than that – a loss of a love. Sidney shook his head, his tight curls unmoving, surely he would've noticed had Hawkeye been queer. Sidney had met many queer soldiers before, usually they were sent to him for 'curing'; a barbaric practice particularly when there was nothing wrong with these men but attitudes in the army weren't exactly forward thinking so Sidney had to toe the company line and go through the motions, betraying his very principles as a psychiatrist so that he himself may stay undetected.
Soon enough the familiar wooden sign balanced haphazardly against oil drums enshrined with the words 'M*A*S*H 4077th Best Care Anywhere' and Sidney let go of the breath he hadn't even realised he'd held as he saw glimpses of his friends; the people he'd come to know, understand and most importantly, to love. A figure walked towards Sid's now stationary jeep, a pink dressing gown, it could only be Corporal Klinger. Calling out to him in his familiar brash Ohio accent,
“Major Freedman. Would ya like me to take your bags to the VIP tent?”
“Yes, thank you Klinger. Is Henry in his office?”
“Yep, although I'd tread carefully if I were you, Major Burns and Houlihan stormed in there a few minutes ago with some bee in their bonnets.”
“Ah. In that case I'll just have to interrupt their moral crusade and save Henry for you all.”
“Thank you Major, conference starts at 1800 hours sharp,” at that Klinger grabbed Sidney's case and headed towards the VIP tent never once wobbling on a pair of heels that by rights should sink into the mire that is the compound.
Sidney strode over in the direction of Henry's office, as he got closer he heard raised voices although he was unable to discern what was being said but suddenly a door slammed and out stormed Frank followed by a hurried Margaret who looked equally infuriated. The pair of them nearly barrelled into Sidney.
“Slow down Major you look like a man on a mission.” quipped Sidney steadying himself
“That commanding officer is the most inept excuse for a soldier I've ever met.”
“He's not a soldier though Frank, he's a doctor.”
“That's no excuse!” Frank bit back with a little “hmph” in agreement from Margaret.
“Anyone who practices psychiatry is sick in the head anyway so you'd know an idiot if you met him I bet.”
“Sure Frank,” Sidney stared at Frank hoping he realised Sid was mocking him instead Frank just walked off with a face like shit on a shingle. For all Frank huffed and puffed he just wasn't good enough as a surgeon to be so pig-headed. Opening the door to Radar's office he approached Henry's door and gave it a light rap with his knuckle.
“Come in, I've already got a headache anyway.”
“Hiya Henry,”
“oh hiya Sidney, thanks for coming down so quick. I didn't catch you in the middle of anyone did I?”
Sidney blushed slightly but not enough to catch the colonel's eye “no no, slow day, only one fruitcake and that was at lunch.”
Laughing through the cigar smoke of a freshly lit cheroot Henry opened the drawer in his desk grabbing a small key for his cabinet. He grabbed a bottle of 12 year old scotch and two glasses,
“fancy a snort Sid?”
“Well given I just had to deal with Frank I say I deserve one as much as you do.”
“Oh he's just a boil on my keister! Every week there's 'anonymous' reports going to I-Corp listing everything I do wrong, that man is going to get me life in front of the firing squad.”
“What was it you called me down for Henry?”
“Hawkeye. He's been a little loopy recently, worked three lots of 24 hour shifts last week. We got him to sleep eventually but I'm worried Sid, he's not been the same since Tommy Gillis died and then just before that bout of insomnia he stripped naked and walked into the mess tent. McIntyre says it was for a bet but I'm worried the cheese has slipped off his cracker, he's also taken to singing love ballads in the O Club to anyone who'll listen. You know Hawkeye, he's theatrical but this feels different Sid. Can you help?”
“Sure I can, where is he just now?”
“Post-op, he's on shift till the conference starts but if you ask Kellye I'm sure she'll let him duck out for a time, there's only two boys left after the deluge the rest are already away to the evac hospital.”
“Will do Henry,” Sidney gulped the scotch setting the glass on Henry's desk, “thanks for the firewater” giving a quick nod as a see you later gesture Sid left through the swing doors and turned left towards post-op. Spying Kellye at the desk and Hawkeye reading a chart Sidney approached them both and cleared his throat so as not to startle them.
“Sid! How are you?” Hawkeye beamed at him, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the shorter older man.
“I'm well, how are you both?”
“Doing well, thank you Major Freedman. If you can excuse me it's time for Private Walker's dressing change.”
“Thanks Kellye, if you take Walker's vitals in an hour and just continue fluids and penicillin.”
“Certainly doctor.” wandering towards a bed in the ward lay a young lad who couldn't be anymore than eighteen if he was a day Kellye tending to his wounds with such delicacy and care. “She was a damn good nurse” Sidney thought to himself.
“So Sid, you ready for poker? If you want I can make it easier, you can just give me your money now and skip the painful part.”
“Not on your life Hawkeye, I've got aces up my sleeve.”
“Be creative at least, don't make them all spades.”
“I'm hurt, only two of them are spades this time.” the two men laughed quietly, there was a familiarity between them that was comfortable, a tension that was palpable to anyone that observed Hawkeye and Sidney together. There was a chemistry whenever they were in the same room, it hung in the air like cheap perfume and incense. Sidney had felt it the first time he'd met Hawkeye but there was no way there was a chance between them. For a start Hawkeye was an inveterate womaniser, forever chasing nurses or a slap in the face depending on what came out his mouth. But there was something; a glance when Hawkeye thought Sid wasn't paying attention, a quip that wasn't supposed to be said in company, Hawkeye comparing himself once again as the woman when discussing his close relationship with Trapper that made Sid curious. Could Hawkeye be queer? Well of course it was certainly possible but even if that were the case it would be far too dangerous to broach it even on an informal basis since Frank Burns, Hawk's tentmate was so Republican he made Alf Landon look like a New Deal-er.
“Walk with me to the VIP tent Hawkeye, I wanted to talk with you somewhere private.”
“Yeah, sure Sid, anything the matter?”
“Well I was hoping you'd enlighten me, but as I say privacy first.”
The two men moseyed over to the VIP tent, Hawkeye opened the door gesturing for Sidney to enter first,
“age before beauty Sid” he smirked with a glint in his eye.
“I think you'll find beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I'm plenty handsome Hawk,” Sidney's retort caught himself off guard. It was almost flirtatious in nature, before Sidney could worry he heard the familiar guffaw of Hawkeye's laugh pervading the tent canvas. Sid sat on the bed and beckoned Hawkeye into the chair that accompanied the desk in the VIP tent.
“So Henry thinks I'm crazy huh?”
“Well no, that's not what he said at all. He's worried Hawk, thinks you're burnt out so he asked me to just check in with you. This isn't on the record or anything, think of it as a favour for a friend.”
“Right, well what do you want to know?”