Fic: We Fled from the Silence [M*A*S*H]
Title: We Fled from the Silence
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Gen
Warnings: Allusions to unpleasant wartime experiences, but nothing graphic
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sadface.
Summary: The silence wakes him at night; Trapper, after Korea
The silence wakes him at night.
Once upon a time, silence had been normal. It's a quiet part of town they live in; a pleasant suburb, far removed from the ceaseless noise of the main streets. Once upon a time he'd found the quiet comfortable. Once upon a less distant time, shell fire and jets screaming overhead hadn't allowed him a single decent night's sleep for days, weeks...until one day it was just background noise, irrelevant next to the gin he could still feel burning his throat and the blood he could still feel coating his hands.
He jerks awake in the middle of the night, bleary and confused with every part of him tensed in momentary panic; straining to hear the whir of choppers and the distant thunder of artillery; straining to hear the low murmur of activity from post-op, the heavy tread of army issue boots (or sometimes extremely non-army issue heels) on patrol outside. Straining to hear Frank snuffling on the other side of the tent; or Hawkeye, never quiet even in sleep, mumbling to himself. The silence is alien, and fear grips him as it fills the air.
It never lasts more than a moment any more. After a moment the rustling of leaves in the garden and Louise's soft breathing beside him will register, and once again Korea will be a few months and a few thousand miles away. He'll relax into the softness of a civilian mattress and try to get back to sleep.
The operative word is "try".
He tells himself that everything here is better. That Korea was the worst thing that ever happened to him, and being told he could go home again was the best. He tells himself there's nothing back there that he misses (except lighter-fluid gin and the swamp and late-night poker and practical jokes and nurses and Hawkeye and the best friend he's ever had and Hawkeye). He tells himself he's better off out of it.
Just because it's true doesn't make it any easier to believe.
Just because it's true doesn't make it any less of a lie.
~*~
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Gen
Warnings: Allusions to unpleasant wartime experiences, but nothing graphic
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sadface.
Summary: The silence wakes him at night; Trapper, after Korea
The silence wakes him at night.
Once upon a time, silence had been normal. It's a quiet part of town they live in; a pleasant suburb, far removed from the ceaseless noise of the main streets. Once upon a time he'd found the quiet comfortable. Once upon a less distant time, shell fire and jets screaming overhead hadn't allowed him a single decent night's sleep for days, weeks...until one day it was just background noise, irrelevant next to the gin he could still feel burning his throat and the blood he could still feel coating his hands.
He jerks awake in the middle of the night, bleary and confused with every part of him tensed in momentary panic; straining to hear the whir of choppers and the distant thunder of artillery; straining to hear the low murmur of activity from post-op, the heavy tread of army issue boots (or sometimes extremely non-army issue heels) on patrol outside. Straining to hear Frank snuffling on the other side of the tent; or Hawkeye, never quiet even in sleep, mumbling to himself. The silence is alien, and fear grips him as it fills the air.
It never lasts more than a moment any more. After a moment the rustling of leaves in the garden and Louise's soft breathing beside him will register, and once again Korea will be a few months and a few thousand miles away. He'll relax into the softness of a civilian mattress and try to get back to sleep.
The operative word is "try".
He tells himself that everything here is better. That Korea was the worst thing that ever happened to him, and being told he could go home again was the best. He tells himself there's nothing back there that he misses (except lighter-fluid gin and the swamp and late-night poker and practical jokes and nurses and Hawkeye and the best friend he's ever had and Hawkeye). He tells himself he's better off out of it.
Just because it's true doesn't make it any easier to believe.
Just because it's true doesn't make it any less of a lie.
~*~