FIC: Pierce Our Skins (M*A*S*H, Hawkeye/Peg)
Title: Pierce Our Skins
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Pairing: Hawkeye/Peg
Rating: PG
Notes: For angryhaiku in the sitcomathon. Thanks to kyrafic for the premise.
**
Peg's never met Hawkeye Pierce, but she recognizes him when she sees him at the wake, all lanky arms and legs, the only person in the room as tall as BJ. The two of them are over in the corner, and he's got both hands on BJ's shoulders, and BJ's crying, leaning into Hawkeye's hands. It's the first time Peg's seen BJ cry since Erin first got sick. Peg's been crying constantly, but BJ just watches her dry-eyed, like she's an actor on a movie screen, someone completely disconnected from him. Their shared grief has come down between them like a pane of glass -- they can see each other, but otherwise they're cut off.
Apparently Hawkeye can reach, though. He's gripping BJ's shoulders and murmuring something to him like they've done this before, and maybe they have. They saw a lot of death there in Korea, and BJ came back not quite the same, and he never talked about why. She watches them in the corner, the pair of them, wonders not for the first time what happened to them over there. As she does, Hawkeye turns his head and looks right at her, his face unreadable. She looks back at him until Erin's preschool teacher comes up to her and she has to look away.
**
Peg hasn't been able to stay at their house since Erin died, her toys still scattered around the floor of the living room, pencil lines on the doorframe marking how she grew. For the first few days Peg stayed at her mother's, but by the day of the wake she can't stand it anymore, the pressure of people always around, all looking at her, the subdued voices, the heavy smell of flowers, so she checks herself into a hotel instead. BJ said he was staying with friends. She doesn't know which ones.
At first the hotel is better, but then suddenly it's worse, the blankness of the hotel walls, the quiet. At least with people around, she was distracted. Now it's midnight and she's finally alone, and she can't stand that either. She can't stand anything.
She goes down to the bar and gets a glass of wine. The back of the bar is mirrored, and in it she looks pale and drawn, old. She rubs her forehead and looks away, turns to watch the other people in the bar, trying to think about anything but the obvious.
She's on her third drink when out of the corner of her eye she can see a man looking at her. When she turns he picks up his beer and comes over, and she doesn't recognize him as Hawkeye until he's almost right up beside her. He's got one hand in his pocket like a nervous teenager.
"Peg?" he says, tentative.
She looks at his beer. "I thought you were more of a martini drinker."
He grimaces. "Nah," he says, and carefully sits down next to her. "I haven't had a martini since I got back stateside."
"Oh," she says.
He's very serious, and she wouldn't have guessed that this was the Hawkeye BJ was always writing home about. It's not like funerals are exactly the place for jokes, but then neither is a war zone. "I didn't know you and BJ were staying here," he says. "I thought Beej said something about staying with friends."
"Um," she says, and doesn't know how to explain. "Yeah, he is, as far as I know."
"Oh," Hawkeye says. "I see." He shifts on the bar stool and rubs the back of his neck. She can feel herself getting flushed and thinks it's ridiculous to be embarrassed over that under the circumstances. But maybe it's just the alcohol. She's not normally a big drinker. "You know," Hawkeye says, and he's so earnest. "It's not -- I mean, the death of a child can…."
"I know," she interrupts. Everyone has said this to her, and it doesn't help, nothing helps, and if she needs well-meaning advice, she already has a mother.
Hawkeye blinks a few times, surprised, and kind of shrinks back into himself. She immediately feel guilty. "I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't -- it was really kind of you to come all this way. I know BJ --" really appreciates it, she was going to say, but suddenly saying his name chokes her up so she can't finish the sentence.
"Hey," Hawkeye says, and he puts his hand on her shoulder, just like he'd held onto BJ earlier in the day, and all her energy's going into not breaking down right then and there. She can hardly breathe. His thumb brushes her collarbone and she's so worn down and miserable and BJ hardly speaks to her and their baby is dead and she doesn't know how she's going to make it through the next day, and the one after that, a long unending string of dismal days. "Hey," he says again.
"Sorry," she says, and takes a shuddering breath, tries to blink tears away and hold it together.
He shakes his head and keeps holding onto her. She vaguely sees him drop some money on the bar, and then start to guide her out into the lobby, up the stairs. "It's late," he says. "You should get some rest."
Her room's dark as he helps her inside, and she feels unsteady and disconnected from herself. Hawkeye's hand is large and warm on the small of her back.
"Hawkeye," she says.
He turns from looking for the light switch and leans toward her, bending down a little. "Yeah?" he says.
She doesn't know what she was going to say. Hawkeye's body's warm beside her in the darkness, and she doesn't think about it, she just stands on her tiptoes and puts her hand on his cheek and kisses him, and as the door falls shut behind them, she thinks she'll regret this.
**
END
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Pairing: Hawkeye/Peg
Rating: PG
Notes: For angryhaiku in the sitcomathon. Thanks to kyrafic for the premise.
**
Peg's never met Hawkeye Pierce, but she recognizes him when she sees him at the wake, all lanky arms and legs, the only person in the room as tall as BJ. The two of them are over in the corner, and he's got both hands on BJ's shoulders, and BJ's crying, leaning into Hawkeye's hands. It's the first time Peg's seen BJ cry since Erin first got sick. Peg's been crying constantly, but BJ just watches her dry-eyed, like she's an actor on a movie screen, someone completely disconnected from him. Their shared grief has come down between them like a pane of glass -- they can see each other, but otherwise they're cut off.
Apparently Hawkeye can reach, though. He's gripping BJ's shoulders and murmuring something to him like they've done this before, and maybe they have. They saw a lot of death there in Korea, and BJ came back not quite the same, and he never talked about why. She watches them in the corner, the pair of them, wonders not for the first time what happened to them over there. As she does, Hawkeye turns his head and looks right at her, his face unreadable. She looks back at him until Erin's preschool teacher comes up to her and she has to look away.
**
Peg hasn't been able to stay at their house since Erin died, her toys still scattered around the floor of the living room, pencil lines on the doorframe marking how she grew. For the first few days Peg stayed at her mother's, but by the day of the wake she can't stand it anymore, the pressure of people always around, all looking at her, the subdued voices, the heavy smell of flowers, so she checks herself into a hotel instead. BJ said he was staying with friends. She doesn't know which ones.
At first the hotel is better, but then suddenly it's worse, the blankness of the hotel walls, the quiet. At least with people around, she was distracted. Now it's midnight and she's finally alone, and she can't stand that either. She can't stand anything.
She goes down to the bar and gets a glass of wine. The back of the bar is mirrored, and in it she looks pale and drawn, old. She rubs her forehead and looks away, turns to watch the other people in the bar, trying to think about anything but the obvious.
She's on her third drink when out of the corner of her eye she can see a man looking at her. When she turns he picks up his beer and comes over, and she doesn't recognize him as Hawkeye until he's almost right up beside her. He's got one hand in his pocket like a nervous teenager.
"Peg?" he says, tentative.
She looks at his beer. "I thought you were more of a martini drinker."
He grimaces. "Nah," he says, and carefully sits down next to her. "I haven't had a martini since I got back stateside."
"Oh," she says.
He's very serious, and she wouldn't have guessed that this was the Hawkeye BJ was always writing home about. It's not like funerals are exactly the place for jokes, but then neither is a war zone. "I didn't know you and BJ were staying here," he says. "I thought Beej said something about staying with friends."
"Um," she says, and doesn't know how to explain. "Yeah, he is, as far as I know."
"Oh," Hawkeye says. "I see." He shifts on the bar stool and rubs the back of his neck. She can feel herself getting flushed and thinks it's ridiculous to be embarrassed over that under the circumstances. But maybe it's just the alcohol. She's not normally a big drinker. "You know," Hawkeye says, and he's so earnest. "It's not -- I mean, the death of a child can…."
"I know," she interrupts. Everyone has said this to her, and it doesn't help, nothing helps, and if she needs well-meaning advice, she already has a mother.
Hawkeye blinks a few times, surprised, and kind of shrinks back into himself. She immediately feel guilty. "I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't -- it was really kind of you to come all this way. I know BJ --" really appreciates it, she was going to say, but suddenly saying his name chokes her up so she can't finish the sentence.
"Hey," Hawkeye says, and he puts his hand on her shoulder, just like he'd held onto BJ earlier in the day, and all her energy's going into not breaking down right then and there. She can hardly breathe. His thumb brushes her collarbone and she's so worn down and miserable and BJ hardly speaks to her and their baby is dead and she doesn't know how she's going to make it through the next day, and the one after that, a long unending string of dismal days. "Hey," he says again.
"Sorry," she says, and takes a shuddering breath, tries to blink tears away and hold it together.
He shakes his head and keeps holding onto her. She vaguely sees him drop some money on the bar, and then start to guide her out into the lobby, up the stairs. "It's late," he says. "You should get some rest."
Her room's dark as he helps her inside, and she feels unsteady and disconnected from herself. Hawkeye's hand is large and warm on the small of her back.
"Hawkeye," she says.
He turns from looking for the light switch and leans toward her, bending down a little. "Yeah?" he says.
She doesn't know what she was going to say. Hawkeye's body's warm beside her in the darkness, and she doesn't think about it, she just stands on her tiptoes and puts her hand on his cheek and kisses him, and as the door falls shut behind them, she thinks she'll regret this.
**
END