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Infatuation	By : Ridgley-Warfield Category: M through R > MASH > MASH Views: 2024 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own MASH or the characters. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
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Title: Infatuation
Characters: Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce/ Father John Patrick "Dago Red" Mulcahy
Rating: M for Sexual Content
Summary: There's a difference between seeing someone and noticing them.
Author's Note: Based on the characters from the movie. This chapter is from Hawkeye's POV. Please ignore any typos. I don't always catch them all. Thanks for reading.

"Clamp."
"Clamp." Becky echoed as she snapped the instrument into my hand. "I had a great time last night, Hawkeye."
"Did you?" Though her voice was low, I found myself glancing around to make sure Dago wasn't in the vicinity.
"I thought maybe if you're not busy later, we could—"
"Shit." I muttered as blood continued to pool into the kid's abdomen on my table. "I've got another bleeder somewhere. I'm sorry, honey, but can we talk about this later?" Like never, I wanted to add.
Becky had been great, and I really wouldn't mind a repeat performance, but I had tasted forbidden fruit and it was all I wanted to eat for a while. It still blew my mind that I could be surrounded by 40 good looking women and I was choosing a priest over all of them. Painless' talk of Don Juan-ism being a cover for latent homosexuality was starting to echo through my mind, but it wasn't like I was checking out every guy in camp. I still wanted women, I just wanted Dago more at the moment.
I still couldn't believe everything that had happened in the last 24 hours, but it had shifted the way I saw him. I'd always thought him to be a little naïve, but I realized that his aloofness was intentional. Dago was actually quite intelligent and even funny, and I truly enjoyed being around him. Sure, he lacked confidence in himself and he was very shy, but a little more time around me and the boys was sure to help loosen him up. I wished I could tell the guys about Dago's past, knowing that they—or at least Trapper—would find Dago much more approachable knowing he was just as much a sinner as the rest of us, but I wasn't going to betray him like that. He trusted me with his secret, and I would take it to my grave.
"Dago, I need one of your fixes over here!" I heard Duke yell from the other side of the room and looked up to see his kid seizing on the table, probably a reaction to the blood transfusion. Dago was at Duke's side in an instant, leaning over as he did whatever it is he does. Whether or not you believe in God is one thing, but Dago could perform miracles with his prayers. He could pull guys through that we'd given up on. I didn't accept that it was God saving them, God wasn't the one sweating down here with the rest of us.
I dragged my eyes away from Dago and Duke and refocused on my own bleeding kid. I managed to clamp off the second bleeder and got to work in patching him up. Often times being in surgery made me feel like an assembly line worker. There was never enough time to really do your best work on a patient. If an arm or leg was busted up, you couldn't spend time trying to save it, you just had to cut it off. I hated every minute of being here. I hadn't been kidding earlier when I told Dago he was my light in the darkness. I wasn't trying to be cute when I'd said it. I'd meant it. Being with him made me forget about all about this place, however briefly. Neither of us understood the attraction we shared, but it didn't matter to me. Just knowing we felt the same way was enough to satisfy me.
"You doin' okay, Hawkeye?" His voice startled me out of my reverie and I looked up to see him looking at me intently.
"Yeah, I'm okay, Dago. How's Duke's kid?"
"Stable," he said, casting a look towards the kid he'd been praying over.
"Add another tally to your saves." I told him.
Though his mouth was covered by his surgical mask, his eyes crinkled slightly and I could tell he was smiling. He went on to check on the others and I finished up with the guy I was on and called for the next.
While we were in surgery with the first round of casualties, another batch of soldiers came through, stacking up in pre-op and waiting outside. Post-op had become standing room only and Radar had been on the horn trying to get transport vehicles for the patients who had been here several days and were well enough to be transferred out.
"How long have we been in here?" I grumbled as I dug into a new patient in the never-ending line of casualties.
"Sixteen hours and counting," came Trapper's tired reply.
"Henry, call Eisenhower, tell him I quit." I was only half kidding. Part of me was ready to go AWOL, but I knew I'd be in Leavenworth busting rock before I even had time to enjoy a single day of freedom.
"This is the last one," Dago's voice said as he helped a corpsman carry in a body and set it in front of Duke.
"Thank, God," Duke said.
"I already have." Dago replied.
Radar came in shortly after that to inform us that the enemy had pulled back and we wouldn't be expecting more casualties for a while, but 'a while' in war-times could mean five days or five minutes, so no one really rejoiced in that news.
I finished my patient, sent him off to post-op, then went to assist Duke while everyone else finished up around us. Duke's kid was bad off and we debated what to do. Dago was hovering nearby in case we needed him and I realized that everyone but the three of us, the nurse and Ugly John had left the OR. How swell of them…
"I don't know, Hawk," Duke said as he poked around the grievous wound. "This is bad…this is real bad."
"Where's the biggest problem?" I said, as I looked with him.
"Fuck if I know yet. Sorry, Red," Duke added belated, apologizing to Dago for his language.
We quickly began to start working on the kid, just starting with whatever we ran across first and hoping we'd be able to save him. We didn't even have to ask Dago to help us, he was already at the kid's head, leaning over, murmuring gently.
"I've lost his pulse," Ugly John said. We all looked at him incredulously. With his chest cut open, there was no way to do CPR.
"Bag him!" I shouted as I reached my hand inside the kid's chest and grabbed his heart with my hand, trying to force the life back into it. "Come on, kid, I haven't lost one all day, don't break my streak."
Duke continued to work, knowing that until the bleeding was under control that the kid would continue to go into cardiac arrest, but he was overwhelmed by the trauma and I needed to be in there helping him. I looked up at Dago, not wanting to do this to him again, but I had no choice.
"Baby, I need you to take over what I'm doing."
Dago's eyes went wide and he was shaking his head, stepping back away from the table. "No. No, no, no, no, no…"
"Dago…John…please." I could feel Duke and Ugly John both look at me strangely as I used Dago's given name, but it worked. Dago closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped back to the table. There was no time for gloves this time. I took his hand and guided it between the spread ribcage, wrapping his hand around the kid's heart and showing him just how often and just how hard to pump the organ. He closed his eyes as he took over and I resumed working with Duke.
"I'm getting a pulse," Ugly John said after a few minutes. "It's weak, but there."
"Stop pumping, Dago, but keep your hand there for a minute." We waited a few beats as we continued to work. "U.J.?"
"Still weak, but it's there."
"How long do you think he had no pulse?" I asked, not having bothered with looking at the clock, but knowing that if his brain hadn't gotten enough blood, it could have caused irreparable damage.
"Six minutes," Dago said weakly beside me. I glanced over at him, noticing his eyes were still closed. He was sweaty and pale. He must have been keeping time in his mind to keep from thinking about what he was doing.
"Suction," Duke told the nurse.
The surgery lasted an hour in total, and though the kid's pulse remained weak, he didn't go back into cardiac arrest and by the time we had fixed everything we could, his pulse was strong and steady again. With luck, he'd pull through and be alright.
Duke called for the corpsmen to come take the kid to post-op and we both peeled off our gloves, dropping them on the floor. I looked over at Dago, who had stayed the entire time, his hands and part of his uniform were covered in blood. His eyes were fixed on the empty table.
"You okay, Dago?" It was Duke who asked.
Dago's eyes snapped up at the sound of his name and he looked at Duke for a long moment as if trying to remember who he was before he nodded weakly.
"We couldn't have done that without you." Duke said sincerely.
Dago just nodded again and I laid my hand on his shoulder gently. "I'm sorry for making you do that…again."
Dago didn't look at me, but he nodded and leaned slightly into my touch. I was worried by his refusal to speak.
"Say something, babe."
He did look at me then, and I could see the storm clouds in his eyes. It was the same look he'd had a few days ago when I'd made him dig shrapnel out of a guy's gut. I'd traumatized him again. I wanted to hug him and kiss him right then and there, but Duke and Ugly John were still standing with us.
Without saying anything, Dago moved away from me and headed for the scrub room, pulling the mask off his face as he went.
"Shit, Hawkeye," Ugly John swore. "I've never seen a priest give anyone a 'go to Hell' look until now."
The words felt like a punch to the stomach and I wondered how much truth there was in them. Did Dago think I was doing this to him on purpose? Did he hate me for it?
We all filed out of the OR into the scrub room behind Dago, who was gripping the edge of the sink with his blood-covered hands. I couldn't see his face, but I could see him trembling and I knew he was crying. I ached. Ugly John and the nurse quietly pretended not to notice as they found another sink to wash up in, but Duke looked thoroughly uncomfortable. I didn't care anymore. I couldn't let Dago stand here alone in his misery.
"Come here, babe," I said gently, taking his elbow and pulling him away from the sink and into my arms, into what I hoped looked like a comforting embrace. I felt him tense as he was aware of the others in the room, but he quickly gave over to the comfort and cried into my shoulder.
Duke was torn between washing up as quickly as he could and watching us. I knew he was uncomfortable with the sight of Dago crying, and I had only added to his discomfort by hugging the chaplain. I kept my arms around Dago's shoulders, and I could feel him fisting the front of my shirt tightly. Finally, his cries slowed and quieted. I could hear him hiccuping a little he tried to stop crying all together. I didn't ease up on my embrace.
"I think I cried for a week when I first got here," Duke said awkwardly.
Dago lifted his head from my shoulder, sniffling and trying to find somewhere clean on his uniform to wipe his eyes and nose. I pulled off my scrub top, turning it inside out and offered it to him.
"Thanks," he said brokenly as he wiped his face and blew his nose into it. "I'm sorry for that…"
"Don't be sorry," I told him as I forced myself to step over to the sink to wash up. "We all have a breaking point."
"Are you okay now?" Duke asked.
"I think so," I heard Dago say as my back was to him.
"You did real good in there, Red…really."
"Thanks, Duke."
"If you want to come by for cocktail hour, you could probably use a drink more than the rest of us."
I was surprised, but pleased, by Duke's invitation. Maybe Dago's little break down had helped Duke to see that he was human like the rest of us. I had hopes that this would be the start of the guy's acceptance of Dago's presence around us.
"I think you're right." Dago said by way of accepting the invite. Duke nodded and left us alone and Dago stepped up to the sink beside me and started to wash his hands. "I'm really sorry about that, Hawkeye."
"I told you, you don't have to be sorry," I glanced over at him. "I shouldn't have made you do that, I'm the one that's sorry."
"You didn't have any choice, he would have died."
I was glad he understood that at least. "Go change and then come over to the Swamp and we'll all get really drunk and try to forget that there's a little place called Korea where every day is a fresh new Hell."
"Amen to that." He muttered.
I had already downed two gin martinis by the time Dago came into the Swamp. Duke wordless stood and poured him a martini, dropping two olives in.
"To the man of the hour," Duke said raising his glass to Dago. "Dago Red, you're alright in my book. Even if you are Catholic."
We toasted Dago, who looked very surprised and touched. He sat on Frank's old bunk and tossed back the martini. We all raised our eyebrows at him, but Duke simply poured him another.
"You know, Dago," Trap said from his bunk. "I think we take you for granted. We're all desensitized to the mess we see in OR and we assume everyone else is too, especially you."
"You'd think I would be by now." Dago replied with a nervous laugh.
I watched Duke sit next to Dago with intrigue. "Hey, Dago…you ever gotten high?"
"Duke, leave him alone." I warned from my bunk, knowing where this was going.
"What? I'm just asking!" Duke said to me. "Smoking always helps me relax after a rough day."
"Well, I don't think that's really Dago's thing, babe." I laughed, not able to imagine Dago getting high off of cannabis.
"Yeah, I guess not," Duke said, then looked at Dago. "Do you mind if I light one up?"
"Uh…no, I guess not." Dago said, uncertainly. Duke clapped him on the back, then hopped up to find his stash. I moved from my bunk and took Duke's place next to Dago, leaning my shoulder against his.
"How you doin', babe?"
"I'm…okay." He said after a moment's hesitation. "I think I'll probably have some nightmares for a while, but I'll be alright."
"I'm here if you need me," I told him, trying to sound friendly for the other guys.
He met my eyes, holding them meaningfully for several seconds. "I know."
Duke lit up a joint and passed it Trapper, who took a long drag before holding it in my direction. I could feel Dago's eyes on me as I reached across to take it from Trapper and took a drag, holding the fragrant smoke in for a long moment. Dago was watching with intrigue and I looked at him, raising my eyebrows and holding the joint towards him. He looked uncertain as he looked from the joint to me and back to the joint. I was surprised when he actually took it from my fingers and brought it up to his lips taking a very tentative drag on it and promptly coughing on the smoke.
The three of us laughed and I took the joint from his fingers. "Here, baby, like this…" I showed him how to take a real drag and hold it in and he took it back from me trying to mirror what I'd done. He didn't cough right away this time, but he couldn't hold it deep in his lungs like the rest of us learned how to do.
"Hey Hawk…" Trap said. I looked over at him to see him wiggling his eyebrows. "Do the thing."
"Yeah!" Duke said. "Do it."
'The thing' that Trapper was referring to was known as shotgun, when one person takes a drag on the joint and blows the smoke into another person's mouth. For some reason, it seemed to make the other person get high a little faster…probably because you were forcing both air and smoke into their lungs that was then immediately absorbed into the bloodstream. Dago was looking at me warily.
"Do you trust me?" I asked him.
He nodded softly. I motioned for Trapper to come over so that I could show Dago what I was going to do to him. Trapper came and knelt in front of me, his hands on my knees. I took a drag, held in the smoke, then formed a seal with our lips as I blew the smoke into Trapper's mouth. Trapper grinned, a little of the smoke escaping from between his teeth.
I saw Dago swallow hard as his eyes went from Trapper back to me. I smirked at him. "Ready?"
"Um…I…I don't know about this."
"Trust me, Dago," Trapper said, putting his hand on Dago's knee. "It's a rush."
Dago looked nervous but he looked back at me and nodded. I had a feeling that I could probably convince him to do just about anything I asked. I wasn't sure how I felt about that… I took a long drag, aware that I was about to basically kiss Dago in front of the other guys. I slid my hand to the back of his neck and pulled him to me. Our lips met and I blew the smoke down into his lungs. I could feel him trying not to cough into my mouth. Before I managed to blow all the smoke into his mouth, he pulled away, coughing.
Trapper and Duke laughed again and I gave the joint back to Duke, who was grinning at Dago. "You'll get used to it. You probably never smoked anything in your life have you?"
Dago shook his head, still coughing, and I nudged his martini glass towards his lips, urging him to take a drink, my hand resting on his back. He drank and finally stopped coughing.
"Better?" I grinned, starting to feel the effects of the marijuana.
"Yeah." He answered strangely. Apparently he was starting to feel the effects of whatever he'd managed to breathe in too.
Duke and Trapper snickered.
"Can't believe we're getting a priest high," Duke said.
"God made cannabis, right?" Trapper tried to reason. "If he didn't want it smoked, he wouldn't have made it such a powerful drug."
"I don't think…" Dago started to say, but stopped, obviously considering Trapper's logic seriously. I laughed and he looked at me with a sheepish smile.
The joint made it back around to me and I held it out again to Dago. Rather than take it from me, Dago leaned forward and parted his lips slightly and I held it up to his mouth, letting him take a drag. This time he didn't cough.
"There ya go, Red," Duke said. "Now you're getting it."
We drank and smoke until we were all high as a kite and sick on gin. Dago didn't say much, but he laughed at everything we said and did. He'd long since fallen over on the bunk and was laying on his side, looking at all of us with half-lidded eyes as we told stories and basically just sat there shooting the shit. The weed, alcohol, and 16 hour stint in the OR was finally catching up to him and his eyelids kept getting heavier and heavier until he was finally passed out. I shushed Trapper and Duke and told them to keep it down and they sniggered. I grabbed a blanket from the end of my bed and draped it over Dago.
"Poor guy," Trapper chuckled. "You really made him pump a guy's heart with his bare hand? That's just cruel, Hawkeye."
"We should do something real nice for Dago," Duke said from his bunk. "I never realized just how much he does for us, but today…man, seeing him break down like that…I guess it all kind of hit me. He really is a good guy."
"Finest kind," I said fondly, watching Dago sleep soundly.
The three of us passed out soon thereafter and we all slept on through the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon. I woke up when Spearchucker came in and fell into his bunk. I wondered where he'd been, but figured he must have drawn duty in Post-Op after OR. I looked at Trapper and Duke who were both snoring softly, then at Dago who was blinking his eyes open, completely disoriented. I could tell by the look on his face that he was hung-over and felt like shit. I got up and went over to him, sitting on the edge of the bunk.
"Want to go back to your tent?" I whispered. He nodded gently and I helped him up before we both stumbled out of the swamp. The sun was shining brightly in the sky and he shaded his eyes with a groan.
"Remind me to never do that again," he muttered as we made our way to his tent.
I laughed softly, "I should have stopped you from drinking as much as you did."
"It's okay. I had fun."
"See what you've been missing?" I teased as I held open the door to his tent, following him inside.
"Oh yes," he deadpanned. "Glorious hangovers. How have I lived without this?"
I couldn't help but laugh as I pulled him to me and kissed him long and slow. He tasted of gin and stale marijuana smoke. His hand slid from my chest down over my crotch, rubbing me through my trousers.
"Stay with me," he whispered. I was hard the instant he touched me, there was no way I was leaving. I turned and latched the door with one hand, holding onto him with the other, and then we were on each other again. We fumbled with each other's clothes as we kissed hungrily. As he pushed my trousers down, he dropped onto his knees on the floor and looked up at me as his hands traveled up the backs of my calves and around the front of my thighs. I looked down at him, brushing his hair back from his face and watched him take my cock into his mouth.
My head lulled back on my neck and I closed my eyes, "Jesus, John…that feels so good."
I loved the feel of his mouth on me. He knew exactly what to do to drive me crazy—the way his tongue swirled around the head and flicked the frenulum underneath, and the gentle intentional scrape of teeth down my shaft. He moved from my cock down to my balls, flicking his tongue along the seam in the middle before he pulled them into one hand and took them both in his mouth.
I moaned and thrust my hands into his hair as my knees buckled slightly. Not even my wife had ever done that before. I could feel the scrape of stubble on his face against my leg, and I liked it. I liked everything about Dago. Everything. And that frightened me a little. I shouldn't like him as much as I did because this thing between us was temporary. Maybe it would last until the end of the war, maybe it wouldn't, but either way I knew I was in deep…real deep. I wasn't ready to call it love but whatever this was it was dangerously close to that.
When he took me back in his mouth and did that same deep-throating hummer, I was gone. Who knew I'd have such little control over my orgasms with him? I wondered how he managed to take me so deep without gagging…didn't he have a gag reflex? Maybe not. I grinned as I came down the back of his throat.
Dago wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as he looked up at me and I suddenly wanted to fuck him. I knew that was his line in the sand, though. I wrapped my hand around his dog tags and pulled gently, urging him to his feet again and dragging him into a fierce kiss. I wanted to taste myself on his tongue.
My hand slid down his body and wrapped around his cock, stroking furiously as I bruised his lips with mine. He made a pained noise and pulled back a little, dropping his hand to mine to still it. The friction of my hand was chaffing him. I grinned sheepishly at him, then dropped to my knees just as he had. I kissed his stomach and he took my glasses off. I looked up at him curiously.
"They hide your eyes," he told me softly, a hand running through my hair as he reached back and put my glasses on his desk. I took him in my mouth then, wetting his cock with my spit. He sighed softly, a sound of bliss, then whispered, "Oh, Hawkeye…"
I didn't like my real name much—I didn't appreciate being named after one of our founding fathers—and I generally never let anyone get away with calling me any variation of the name, but for some stupid reason, I wanted to hear Dago say my name. I pulled back slowly and looked up at him. He opened his eyes and looked down at me.
"You can call me Ben…if you want." I told him. "Just…not in front of anyone else."
He smiled gently and brushed my hair off my forehead. "Alright…Ben."
I couldn't help but smile, staring up at him for a long moment before I resumed sucking him off. When he came, he gripped my shoulders and whispered my name like a prayer. I swallowed without a second thought this time, getting to my feet as I crushed him against me in a fierce hug. He seemed a little surprised, and even I wasn't really sure why I was hugging him so tightly, but I didn't care.
I pulled Dago to his bed and we laid together, not tired, but just enjoying a moment alone. His head was on my shoulder and I stroked his hair. His hand was drawing lazy patterns across my chest.
"Dago…"
"Hmm?"
"What else can we do together besides suck each other's cocks?"
His hand stilled and he craned his head up to look at my face.
"I just mean…is there other stuff you liked doing with Danny that you would…you know…like to do with me? Or…I dunno…something he didn't do that you'd like me to do?"
He thought for a long minute, his hand resuming making random patterns on my chest. "Danny enjoyed being very rough…I enjoy that you're not. There are some other things that we could do…if you want."
"Like what?"
He moved on top on me, straddling me and pressing our cocks together as he slowly rocked his hips against mine. I groaned and grabbed his hips.
"Yeah…yeah I like that." I nodded. He laughed softly above me, leaning in to kiss my lips. When he pulled away, I asked, "What else you got?"
Dago held my eyes for a long moment and I could see the war raging inside of him. I knew what he was thinking. As much as I wanted to, I didn't want him to feel like he had to.
"Baby, we don't have to do that if you don't want to."
"I know," he said softly. "But I do…I mean…with you I do."
"But…what about your…you know…your vows."
Dago closed his eyes. "I've already broken them, Hawkeye. I know what we're doing is wrong, but I…I can't stop. I don't want to stop. I want to do the things I used to do with Danny. I want to know what it's like with someone I—"
He stopped then, his eyes going wide. We stared at each other for several moments. I knew what he was going to say. I knew he was about to say the word love. It had obviously shocked him as much as it shocked me. He moved off of me, standing up and pulling on his clothes. I turned on my side and watched him, trying to absorb this new knowledge and figure out how I felt about the fact that he loved me. I could feel only a sense of wonder and happiness. Not half an hour ago I hadn't been willing to say that I loved Dago, but now…now it seemed okay in some way. Maybe it's because I knew I wasn't alone in this queer—no pun intended—feeling.
Dago's back was to me as I stood up and took his shoulders, pressing myself against his back. He had gotten his pants on, but nothing else and I pressed a kiss to his shoulder, before wrapping my arms around his stomach and resting my chin on the same shoulder.
"I think we have a small problem, babe," I said softly, rocking us gently from side to side. "Because as hard as I tried not to, I think I've fallen for you."
"What do we do now?" His voice was a whisper, his hands clasped tightly over mine.
"Well, I think we keep doin' whatever feels right and not worry about the future."
"But—"
"No buts," I cut him off. I still didn't want to think about what happened once the war ended and we went our separate ways. I didn't want to think about whether or not I would miss him or how I'd feel about going home to wife. I just wanted to be with him and enjoy the time we had.
He sighed, but conceded with a nod.
As we dressed, I could feel him thinking. "Dago, I can hear the wheels turning in your head."
He laughed softly. "Sorry."
"What are you thinking about?"
"It's nothing really." He was a terrible liar. I gave him a knowing look and saw him blush. "I just was…um…do you think you'll still fool around with the nurses?"
"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I'd rather just fool around with you, but if I don't at least pretend to chase some of the girls, word's going to get out that something's up."
"I understand." He didn't sound angry or upset, but I still felt a little guilty. I think his Catholic guilt was rubbing off on me. I pulled on my jacket, found my glasses, then turned to him. We moved into each other's arms simultaneously, lips meeting tenderly.
"I wish we didn't have to sneak around," I told him.
"There's no alternative," he replied. He was right of course, but I still wished I didn't have to be careful when we weren't alone.
Trapper and Duke were waking up when I got back to the Swamp, looking less hung-over than Dago had, but still pretty rough.
"That was a hell of a night," Trapper said.
"Where'd Dago go?" Duke said, noticing the vacant bunk.
"Back to his tent. He's pretty hung-over." I answered.
Duke was chuckling ruefully. "I can't believe we got him so fucked up. I can't believe he let us."
"I told you Dago's not a drag to be around," I smirked.
"You know you basically gave him his first kiss last night right?" Duke teased.
I wanted to tell him he was wrong, but instead, I played along. "Hope he enjoyed it."
"Was it weird? Kissing him, I mean?" Duke asked.
"I didn't kiss him, Duke, I shotgunned him. The three of us have done it a hundred times. I certainly haven't kissed either of you."
"Well, it's not like Dago knew the difference."
"Trust me, he knows the difference." I slipped. I busied myself with the still to avoid their gazes.
"What do you mean 'he knows the difference?'" Trapper asked with intrigue.
"I just mean there's a lot you guys don't know about Dago." This was going to land me in a world of shit.
"So, the Saint of the 4077th has a past, does he?" Duke asked, rubbing his hands together greedily.
"Duke…shut up. We all have a past. It's not like he was born a priest."
"Well how come you know so much about him? Why didn't he tell us?" Trapper demanded.
"Look, you guys, he told me in confidence, alright? Don't go pestering him about it either."
"You and Dago have been gettin' kind of close," Duke said suspiciously. "Are you trying to replace us, Hawk?
"Am I not allowed to have other friends?"
He shrugged. "Just seems weird you'd pick Dago Red as a friend, is all. Him being a priest."
"So what?"
"So nothing, it's just weird, okay? I mean, yeah, he was cool to hang out with and all and he's a good guy, but…"
"I know, it's 'weird.'" I finished for him. "Look, baby, I don't know why I want to be friends with him either, but we get along just fine and he could use some friends, so why not us?"
"Yeah, I guess. As long as he doesn't get all preachy."
I rolled my eyes but didn't say anything and the topic finally shifted off of Dago.
When supper came, Trapper and I went to the mess tent alone as Duke had pulled post-op duty and Spearchucker was still KO'ed in his bunk. Dago was sitting in his usual spot, talking with one of the newer nurses. Or rather, she was talking and he was doing what he does best—listening.
Trapper sat directly across from Dago and I sat on his other side. Dago gave us both a nod, but continued listening to the nurse on his left. I could tell by Trapper's face that he was mulling over our earlier conversation. Oh, please Trap…please don't do what I think you're about to…
"Hey, Dago," he said, interrupting the nurse. Both pairs of eyes looked over.
Shit…Shit… Shit. I was shaking my head vigorously at Trapper, who ignored me thoroughly.
"You ever kissed a girl?"
Oh fuck. I hoped to whatever God he believed in that Dago would say yes. I wanted to stop time and tell him that they knew he'd kissed somebody before. Dago's face flushed and he cast a wary look at the nurse next to him.
"That's not really a topic I feel is appropriate at the moment, Trapper." Dago said easily. I almost sighed in relief out loud. Dago returned to his conversation, but Trapper wasn't going to be swayed.
"Hawkeye tells us you're not as innocent as you let us all think."
Dago's eyes flashed angrily over at me and I wanted to shrink.
"I'll talk to you later, Father," the nurse said uncomfortably as she got up to leave.
"Did he?" The ire in his voice made me tremble. He was talking to Trapper, but he was looking at me. There was rage and hurt burning in his eyes.
"He implied that there are some things about you we don't know." Trapper continued. "Maybe things of the unholy variety."
"Goddamnit, Trapper!" I bellowed, slamming my fist on the table, and not caring that I'd just used Dago's lord's name in vain. "What part of 'don't pester him' did you not understand?"
He merely shrugged.
Dago was looking at me coldly. "I see now that I really can't trust anyone in this camp."
"Dago…" he started to get up and I grabbed his arm. "Dago! Wait."
Dago jerked his arm from my grasp. "What I said, I said in confidence, Hawkeye. You promised me you wouldn't tell anyone."
"And I didn't! They're just trying to weasel it out of you."
We both became aware that most of the personnel in the mess tent was watching us with rapt interest. Dago looked around and I could tell he was humiliated. He clamored over the bench, eager to escape.
"Dago!" I called, but he didn't stop as he barreled out of the mess tent. I turned my angry gaze on Trapper. "What the fuck is the matter with you!"
"How was I supposed to know he'd be so sensitive about it?"
I wanted to punch Trapper and I wanted to go after Dago, but I did neither. I sat there, poking at my dinner, swallowing bites of it like I swallowing rocks. I didn't know how I was going to apologize to Dago, or even if he'd let me explain. He was pissed, plain and simple, and he had every right to be. Rumors would be flying all around about Dago's love affair, and I could only imagine what the story would become.
After dinner, I went to the shower, hoping Dago would be there, but knowing he wouldn't be. I debated going by his tent afterwards, but knew that would be a waste of time. I went by post-op to check on patients instead and was sought out by Radar.
"Hawkeye, Colonel Blake asked to see you. He said it's important."
"Can it wait?" I was in no mood to talk to Henry.
"No, he's in his office waiting for you."
I sighed and headed for Henry's office. He looked up at me as I entered.
"So, Father Mulcahy just dropped in not too long ago…"
Oh fuck…what now… "Yeah?"
"He requested a transfer."
"What?" I was certain I'd misheard what Henry said.
"He didn't say why, but said that he was sure you'd be glad to tell me."
"Goddamnit…" I pushed my glasses up and massaged the bridge of my nose. "Don't approve that transfer, Henry."
"I haven't, but you better fix whatever you did to him."
"I'm glad everyone's assuming that this is my fault."
"He certainly seems to think so."
"Don't worry, Henry, I'll straighten it out."
"See that you do, Pierce. I've got enough problems as it is."
I left Henry's office and stormed over to Dago's tent. I didn't bother knocking as I threw the door open and stormed in, startling him. He was at his desk, writing what appeared to be a letter.
"Get out." He said forebodingly.
"No." I told him firmly, latching the door behind me. He stood up and came towards me, reaching for the latch, but I caught his hand and pulled him to me. He tried to push me away.
"Let me go."
"No," I repeated, turning him around and pressing his back against the door. I felt his entire body tense, but he realized he was pinned and he stopped struggling.
"What do you want?"
"For you to listen to me." He looked away, making it obvious he had no interest in what I had to say. I grabbed his chin and forced him to meet my eyes. "Listen to me!"
"I don't need my eyes to hear you," he bit back, turning his head sharply away and dislodging his chin from my hand.
"I didn't tell them about Danny." I said. He stilled, but he was breathing heavily. "I didn't tell them anything, Dago. I swear it."
"Then why did Trapper say—"
"Because Trapper's a fucking idiot." I snapped, still angry at Trapper for not minding his own damn business. "Look, when I got back to the swamp, they were talking about everything that happened last night and Duke was teasing me about being your first kiss. The only thing I said—and I admit that I didn't mean to say it—is that you knew the difference between that and a kiss. They hounded me to tell them what I knew, but I told them that everyone has a past and yours was none of their business."
Dago sighed and pushed me back. This time I let him. "Well, thank you for not telling them, but…I think that…maybe it's best if we stop seeing each other."
"Why?" I demanded, getting angry with him now. For a guy whose job depended on his understanding and compassion, he certainly wasn't cutting me any slack.
"Because someone's eventually going to put two and two together, and…"
"And this is what you do." I seethed. "When it gets too complicated, you run away. You ran away from Danny, why wouldn't you run away from me too?"
He winced as if the words had caused him physical pain. "Don't…don't you vilify me in this, Hawkeye. I didn't run from Danny. He hurt me. I'm sorry you can't see the difference."
I knew the difference, I was just angry at everything and scared of losing Dago in this whole mess. "So what's your excuse with me then? Why'd you run to Henry and request a transfer?"
"You think I did that because of you?" He turned on me, exasperated. "You really are completely full of yourself, Hawkeye. I requested a transfer because the minute you put it into their heads that I have a less-than-wholesome past, I lost their respect as a moral authority. Do you think people will actually listen to me now?"
"What makes you think they did before?" I wanted to take the words back as soon as I said them.
Dago wilted and gave a sad little laugh. "I was wrong about you, Hawkeye. You and Danny are very much alike. You both have to tear me down to build yourselves up."
He brushed past me, unlatching his tent and pushed out the door, letting it slam shut. His last words stayed with me for several moments, adding to the rottenness I was feeling. I looked around his neatly kept tent forlornly, hoping I would think of a way to fix what I'd done. My eyes fell on the letter on his desk and I picked it up, looking over the neat script of his handwriting.
It was addressed to the military vicar's office and as I read the half-page note I realized it was a resignation letter. Dago hadn't just asked for a transfer, he planned to resign his entire commission and leave the war over this. Without hesitation I tore the letter in half, then in half again, not stopping until it was a little more than confetti in my hand. I dropped it back on his desk then fell into the chair with a sigh. There were several books on the shelf above his desk and I briefly scanned the titles—The Odyssey; Don Quixote; Cry, the Beloved Country; The Red Badge of Courage; and Robinson Crusoe. There was one book with a worn leather cover that had no title on the spine. I reached up and pulled it down, looking at the blank cover. I realized it was a journal. His journal.
I hesitated for a moment, feeling like I was holding the proverbial Holy Grail of his life. I flipped open the book to the first page and furrowed my brow. Strange symbols littered the page in his neat scrawl. I flipped through the pages, noticing that they were all written in symbols. Leave it to Dago to write his journal in a language no one could read. I wondered what language it was, if it was even something real. I didn't put it past him to have made something up in order to keep people from reading his darkest secrets. I flipped to the last entry in the book and wondered how long ago he'd written it. Was it about me? What did it say? I was fairly certain his next entry wouldn't be as nice as this one probably was.
I ran my finger across the symbols, almost expecting to feel them embossed on the page. I was impressed and awed that Dago could not only write in this language, but could obviously read and understand it as well. I wondered what other languages he spoke—Spanish, judging by the Don Quixote book, and Latin of course. He seemed to be a real intellectual, functioning higher than probably most everyone else I knew. I wish I'd taken the time to get to know him sooner… Now it seemed too late to redeem myself.
The door to the tent opened and Dago stopped in the doorway, surprised and annoyed that I was still there until he saw his journal in my hands.
"I see you've decided to rifle through my belongings while I was gone," he said coldly, then he saw the scrapes of paper that remained of his letter. "And destroy them…"
"What language is this, Dago?" I asked with genuine interest, holding up his journal and ignoring his accusation. He snatched it from my hand and clutched it to his chest.
"A dead one, much like this conversation. Please leave."
I sighed and stood. "Dago…John…I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said. I was just…pissed off."
He looked at me with a hardened expression but didn't say anything.
"When Henry told me you requested a transfer, I…well, I kind of freaked out. I don't want you to leave. Forget Trapper and Duke and everyone else, baby, this will all blow over and it won't affect how people see you. If anything, I think it'll help people relate to you better. No one has to know the specifics of your past, and no one will ever find out about us."
"You don't know that, Hawkeye."
"No, maybe I don't know for sure, but I don't want to lose what we've got…and I'm pretty sure you don't really want to either."
He looked down and away but I saw his chest rise and fall heavily.
"Please forgive me, John. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings, I'm sorry for what I said, and I'm sorry Trapper's an asshole."
He laughed, very slightly. "I don't think you have any control over Trapper."
"That's the damn truth. If I did I would have shut him up right away."
He sighed and closed his eyes. "Please don't become like Danny, Hawkeye. I couldn't stand it if you did. Don't belittle me when you're angry."
I took a step towards him. "I promise I won't. I'm sorry I did."
"And if Trapper and Duke or anyone else ask about my past—"
"I promise not to say anything—"
"I was going to tell you just to lie." He interrupted, shutting me up. "I don't condone lying, but in this case I don't see much choice."
"What should I say?"
"I don't know…" He sighed, thinking. "Just tell them I had a girl who broke my heart and that's why I became a priest. I really don't care at this point."
I laid a hand on his shoulder tentatively, but he didn't move away. "And what about us?"
"I still think we shouldn't see each other," he said softly, his eyes closed for a moment before he looked at me. "But I still want to."
I pulled him to me and kissed him passionately. His arms wrapped around my neck, his journal still clutched in his hand. I held him against me tightly. "Do you forgive me?"
"Of course I do," he whispered.
I sighed in relief and squeezed him tighter. "I'm so sorry, Dago."
"I know." He pulled back from my arms with a heavy sigh. "Maybe we should tell Trapper and Duke that lie. Just so they won't start any other rumors. At least we can control this one to some extent."
I nodded, hating that he was going to have to lie to everyone. "I can tell them…if you want. That way you're not technically the one who's lying."
"You don't mind?"
"I've lied about worse things than this, Dago."
He nodded softly. "Alright…then maybe we should go over it, so if anyone asks, I'll at least be in the know."
"Still want to go with a girl broke your heart?"
"Why not? It doesn't really matter in the end, does it?"
"No I suppose it doesn't…" I took his hand and led him to his cot and we sat side by side as he thumbed the pages of his book in thought. "Think they'd believe I was ever engaged?"
"Why not, they don't know what to make of your past right now."
He nodded, and bit his thumb as he thought of a story. "Tell them I met a girl in college—before Seminary—named…"
"Helen," I supplied in his hesitation, looking up at his copy of The Odyssey.
He looked over at me questioningly and I shrugged. "Okay…Helen. We dated for a while and decided to get married, and then…before the wedding, she was killed. Hit by a car or something."
"Jesus, Dago…" I was surprised by his morbidity. "If you want to shut them up about your past, that'll certainly do it."
"Too much?"
"No…I think they'd buy it, sadly."
He nodded with a heavy sigh and I put my hand on his knee.
"Don't worry, babe, I'll take care of it."
"Thank you, Hawkeye."
I took the journal from his hands and flipped through the pages. "So what dead language is this? Can't be too dead if you know it."
"Ancient runes," he answered. "This particular rune set is Elder Futhark. There are 24 runes that each have a meaning…or represent a letter or series of letters."
"Can you teach me?"
He took the book and opened a random page, pointing to a random series of symbols. "The dots between a series of symbols represent a space that we would put between words. Two dots represent the end of a sentence. Normally runes are written down the page rather than left to right, but it's easier for me to follow my thoughts this way."
"So what does this say?"
Dago looked over at me curiously. "Do you want a challenge?"
I lifted my eyebrows. "A challenge?"
"I'll give you a key you can use to translate it yourself. As long as you don't lose the key I've no fear that anyone else would be able to read this."
"You'd let me read your entire journal?" I asked incredulously.
He shrugged, smirking a little. "If you don't give up first."
I accepted the challenge by taking the book from him. "Alright…give me a key."
Dago smiled and moved to his desk, taking out a fresh piece of paper and moving the scraps of the letter I'd torn up to the side. I decided I would ask him later about the resignation. I watched him write the runic symbols down the side of the page and the English letter transliteration next to it. After a minute, he handed it to me. I felt like a kid with a spy code and immediately set to work.
"You're going to do that now?" He asked incredulously.
"Sure…why not?"
He laughed softly but shook his head and picked up his pocket Bible. He sat back in his chair and kicked his feet up—boots and all—on the end of his cot as he began to flick through the pages. I laid on my side on his cot, propped up on my elbow as I slowly began working out the translation, trying to keep track of it all in my head as I went along.
I'd managed to get halfway down the page before I sighed, "Dago…I need a pen and paper."
He laughed but reached for both on his desk and passed it to me. "Did you get lost?"
"I'm halfway down the page and the only part of this that I've managed to keep coherent is that you were in Tibet."
He chuckled, "It'll get easier as you learn to recognize the symbols."
"How many languages do you speak?" I wondered aloud.
"Several." He answered. "English, obviously, Latin, Spanish, French, a little German, a little Chinese and Tibetan, very little Korean, and even a little Irish Gaelic."
"And Runes." I nodded to the page.
"Well, it's not really a spoken language as much as it's written, but I suppose in a sense I do 'speak' it." He cocked his head a little. "How about you, Hawkeye?"
"Just two: English and bad English."
He laughed but shook his head. "You're a doctor, you must know some Latin."
"Yeah, I guess a little Latin, though not as much as you. And I took French in high school, but I was only interested in the naughty words."
"I don't doubt that," he smirked.
"So you were really in Tibet?"
He nodded to the book in my hands. "Keep reading."
I'd gotten pretty far into the first entry in his journal when there was a knock on the door. Dago looked back to see that it wasn't latched before calling, "Come in."
A hand with a white handkerchief was thrust in through the door and I rolled my eyes.
"Come in, Trap."
The rest of Trapper came through the door a minute later, looking somewhat sheepish. "Hey, Hawk, I was lookin' for ya."
"You found me." I deadpanned, closing my notes in Dago's journal. "What'd you want?"
"Well…I guess I want to apologize to Dago. I'm sorry for stickin' my nose in your business at dinner."
"Apology accepted, Trapper," Dago said graciously.
"And we've got a fresh round of gin martinis about to be poured at the Swamp, as well as what I hope will be a very profitable poker game. Hawkeye, you in?"
I wanted to stay with Dago, wanted to keep reading his journal, but I had a lie to spread around, and I didn't want it to seem suspicious that I'd choose to read in the Chaplain's tent rather than booze and gamble and womanize. I had a reputation to uphold, after all. "Yeah, sure. Dago, do you mind if I hang onto this for a while?"
"Sure." He gave me a look to say 'don't lose it' and I nodded at him, ruffling his hair playfully before I followed Trap out.
"Is he still mad at us?" Trapper asked as we headed for the Swamp.
"No, not really. If you promise not to say anything else about it, I'll tell you what happened to him."
That piqued Trap's interest like I knew it would and he didn't even question me about the journal.

TBC
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Infatuation