"Anyway"
by Jimaine
A short post-GFA-snippet
Last night, after a documentary on North Koreans, who manage to escape
to the south, and their
problems of integration into a democratic, very western society, I was
feeling a bit blue…
Rating: PG
Pairing: Hawk/ B.J., B.J.'s POV
Archive: mash-slash, T'Len's & Lady Charena's place, and whoever
else wants to have it – just ask!
Disclaimer: None of this is my own. MASH and the characters
belong to 20th Century Fox. I'm not
profiting
from my works of fiction, even though I'd like to.
Packing my bags again...funny, it seems to be more difficult now, more
things to pack, but that can't
be. I zip the bags shut and shrug into my jacket, fingers lingering
briefly at the lower hem before
resolutely closing the zipper. Now that the roar of engines and
rotor-blades has faded, the 4077th, a
place that would constantly alternate between too much work and boredom,
has become a ghost-town.
And I feel right at home, a ghost of a former self I am loathe to get
reacquainted with. I probably won't
recognize him when I meet him…whenever that will be.
The wind blows dust and silence into my face, grains of sand sting my
skin, stick to my sweaty face.
For one last time, I inhale and taste Korea the way I've come to hate – and
tolerate – it. From now on,
it'll just be 'a place in Asia I'll never come back to'.
There, everything's accounted for, even the few items I deliberately
left behind the last time I left. Why
did they bring them along when moving the camp? I was gone, they should
have left them to
burn…and I don't know who saved them from the flames, cheap knickknacks
that sure aren't worth
the trouble.
My guess would be Hawkeye.
And I never asked him why. Why, in spite of how much I hurt him, he
bothered to pack the painful
reminders of the past two years, a togetherness neither he nor I ever
*wanted* but which simply
*happened*. The silly patchwork straw-hat that could pass for a bird's
nest, the kimono, the parka
from Sears I would have no use for in Northern California…funny how even
in purgatory people
manage to clutter their lives with material insignificances.
With a sigh, I carry the bags to the motorcycle. Now where's that piece
of rope again…?
They're all gone now. I am the last to leave. The nurses, the men, the
trucks bearing tents and
equipment, our commander and his horse, and also my…
_And Hawkeye._
I wonder why I cannot even think the word.
My lover.
The one thing I never would have expected Korea to have in store for
me…for me, the man who has
everything.
Temptation, frustration, and salvation – all in one body, one damaged
soul.
I had everything…and therefore I had everything to lose.
How long will my goodbye, written in stone, remain once this ravaged
land is left in the hands of the
natives once more? Under moss and grass, it'll pass…fifty years from
now, what will this place look
like? Will anything remain to tell of our sweat, blood and tears?
If I had known and seen today from yesterday
I would be in love
Anyway.
FINIS