Chapter Text
“Hawkeye, I know you understand what I couldn't say.”
John Francis Xavier McIntyre had been repeating this mantra several times to himself over the past hour or so. It was a lie and he knew it, but he had to tell himself something in order to quiet that nasty bout of conscience that he had developed when it came to leaving the man who had kept him sane in hell without so much as a note. He had meant to leave one, had sat down several times with the intention of writing to him, but every single time he had fallen short. How could he describe what this man had meant to him? How could one note encompass a friendship, a relationship that was so deep and so special that it bound them without the need for words?
“I tried to reach you Hawk, I really did, but you were unreachable.”
If only Hawk hadn't been on R&R, if only his orders had come a few days earlier, or later, if only they had been able to reach Hawk, if only he had been able to find the words to write down, then it would be easier. But then the "what if's" had already taken over his life. They had from the second that he had been drafted and this damn war had taken over his life. So he shouldn't be surprised that the stupid army would make this difficult too. He had tried to reach Hawkeye. Radar had tried everything he could. Rationally, however, Trapper had known that they wouldn't reach him. The other man was, of course, unreachable. He wasn't surprised, but there had been a little hope deep inside of Trapper that they would reach Hawkeye in time. Maybe that's why his letter writing attempts had been for nothing; he had hoped to say the words in person.
“You were my best friend here, Hawk. You kept me sane and I don't know how to thank you.”
It didn't help that there were no words that he could think of to describe the relationship with Hawkeye. He had loved this man, but it was more than that. There was a piece of his sanity with the name Hawkeye Peirce on it and he couldn't be more grateful to his friend for that. He had supported him in ways that he couldn't even begin to describe, his voice, shoulder, hands, lips; every piece of him, always there to comfort him and help him through this hell-hole. The jokes, the pranks had kept them from screaming, kept him from breaking and he didn't know how to describe that in written form. Hell, were there even words about how a joke on Ferret Face or a pass at Hot Lips contributed to his well being here; he didn't think so. Hawkeye was his anchor; Hawkeye, his booze, their pranks and the nurses. Hawkeye and Trapper are on the prowl. God help anyone who gets in their way. He paused in his musing to apologise instinctively to the absent Father Mulcahy, before shaking himself and moving on with his musings. There would be a lot of habits that he would have to break himself from when he went home.
“I don't know how to say goodbye to you, Hawkeye Pierce. I don't know if there is even a way.”
The worst part was that if Hawkeye had been standing right in front of him he probably still wouldn't have been able to summon the words that honoured and severed this relationship. That was the hardest part, something that had taken him days to realize, the need to sever this relationship. It had kept him alive here in this place separated from the rest of the world, but now he was going to the real world again and it had no purpose out there. It had no place beside his beautiful girls and his loving wife. It had been the most important relationship in the world for Trapper and he realized that he would have to leave Trapper here in Hell so that John McIntyre could reunite with his family.
“You should know, Hawk, that this place has become another sort of family to me, especially you, and in a twisted sort of way, I will miss that. I will miss you.”
When he had heard that he was FINALLY going home he was filled with such joy that nothing could contain it; for once he drank in celebration, finally being filled with a for true joy that wasn't even hampered by the absence of his best friend. He was told that he gave the camp an abit of a show by streaking through the mess tent, but he thankfully had no memory of that, though Hawkeye would have found it absolutely hilarious, no doubt. He had gotten a little bit of nurse chasing in but his heart wasn't in it, there was only one person he wanted to chase right now and one person he wanted to get to.
He listened to Klinger's jealous rants, making an empty promise about sending him news from home and complimented his lack of fashion sense, joking about how women's fashion wouldn't be the same back home. His friend would have gotten a kick out of the crazy hat Klinger was wearing, no one could stiffle that man for long.
Of course, he had to torment Frank one last time. The man may have been the world's worst doctor and only slightly better at being a human being, but tormenting him had been one of the few pleasures here in purgatory. Hopefully, he would be back in the swamp where he belonged soon. He didn't belong at Henry's desk and he never would. Besides, Hawk would need the idiot more now. The man was easy to rebel against and tormenting the third swamp rat always acted as a buffer against the war going on outside their tent flap. Frank had given his typical "snappy comeback". Trapper laughed to himself; soon he'd be dealing with people with actual wit again. How on earth would he survive? The nights would be quieter without Frank's snoring, his whining, his... the nights would be quieter without Frank. Of course, Margaret came to Ferret's defence. What Hot Lips saw in No Lips Trapper would never understand, but he was able to steal one last rare smooch from the unattainable women before heading back to the women he loved. Despite everything that the duo had done or tried to do, Trapper still had a soft spot for Margaret. The only thing that had doused this goodbye, this final time before he never had to see Ferret Face again, was Hawkeye's absence.
Father Mulcahy had blessed him, wishing him luck and the best in life. Trapper didn't need religion but John just might and for the first time he actually thanked the man and truly meant it. The good father's quiet presence had been a guiding force in this camp, something else that Trapper had depended on, but maybe John would be able to find faith where Trapper couldn't.
He was finally packing and taking one last drink from their still when it hit him that he hadn't said goodbye to Hawkeye, the most important one, his best friend, his lover, his sanity and he couldn't find the words to write a note. He could leave this place that had become his home and these people that had become his family, but he didn't know if he could leave Hawkeye, so he gave up on a note. He felt like a coward and he knew Hawkeye would expect one, but he couldn't.
He asked Radar a final time about Hawk, knowing full well what the answer would be, and he teased the kid about his height and his age one last time, just to get him rilled up. He then became serious for a moment and asked him to take care of things around there. He almost cried for the first time at the kids' solemn acknowledgement and then sudden panic about his safety. He calmed the kid down, wanting to reassure him but knowing he couldn't, trying to dispel Henry's ghost for both of them as best he could. Then a thought suddenly came to him and he kissed the kid on the cheek, ordering him to send it to Hawkeye. It was the best goodbye he could think of to a relationship that had meant everything to him and soon could mean nothing. In some ways it was less than it deserved, but it was the best that he could do.
“Goodbye Hawkeye, I hope that the next unfortunate visitor to this place takes care of you like I tried.”
He knew that he could sever himself from this place and even from Hawkeye. A part of him didn't want to, but he had to for his family and it was necessary for John's survival. The thing he truly hated was leaving his love all alone. He hoped that Hawkeye would find someone else to support him because he needed it. He knew that sometimes Trapper had been all that had been standing between Hawk and complete insanity. He had supported Hawkeye as much as Hawkeye had supported him, but he couldn't any more. In some ways he wished he could, but most of him was already moving on. Already divesting himself of that place and the people, shaking off the last vestiges of Trapper. John Francis Xavier McIntyre was finally going home.