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“You,” BJ said aloud, as the hum of the hospital continued around them. There was no adequate end to the sentence. You have to wake up, so I can tell you I need you. BJ felt tears stinging his eyes as they formed, and he blinked them furiously away. He noted that someone had cleared the vomit from Hawkeye’s face, and the blood from his hair.
In another life, maybe, far into the future when the lines began to blur further, he thought he might have been meant to be a nurse, to take care with people who were beloved to someone, to clean their hair and their hands and to dress them in gowns and bedclothes. No more cutting, no more blood. He’d always thought Margaret would have done well in their shoes, but he never thought about taking hers. Or maybe it was all nonsense, and it was only Hawkeye whose troubles he wanted to smooth away.- Language:
- English
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07 Jun 2026