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September 28, Tris
Sep. 26th, 2017 09:54 pmIt's been a long night. A long night and a long morning, and Hawkeye honestly can't remember the last time he slept properly. He's just finished a double shift at the hospital, and the nightmares had kept him up the night before that. He's had them since Korea, but it's been worse somehow lately, more real, too vivid. He doesn't know why and he doesn't want to think about it any more than he has to, so instead he throws himself into work.
It's early morning when he finally leaves the hospital, rubbing his hands over tired eyes. He hasn't bothered to change out of his scrubs, deciding instead that he'll stumble home and pass out face down on his bed instead. He's nearly at Bramford when he spots a girl on the street, seemingly headed the same way. At first he barely glances at her, more focused on successfully putting one foot in front of the other than anything else. But then he catches sight of the bruise clouding around one of her eyes, flicks his own eyes down to the broken tissue around her knuckles.
He stops and changes course before he can really think about it, moving to step into her path. It's probably none of his business, but she's just a kid and he's a doctor, and there's something in his DNA that won't let him walk away.
"Hey," he calls, gesturing her over, and when he gets a little closer he realises that he recognises her. He's seen her around Bramford a few times, and he's pretty sure he'd met her his first day here, though for the most part that whole day is a blur. Tris, his mind helpfully supplies eventually, and he's impressed he's managed that much in his sleep-deprived state. "You alright?"
It's early morning when he finally leaves the hospital, rubbing his hands over tired eyes. He hasn't bothered to change out of his scrubs, deciding instead that he'll stumble home and pass out face down on his bed instead. He's nearly at Bramford when he spots a girl on the street, seemingly headed the same way. At first he barely glances at her, more focused on successfully putting one foot in front of the other than anything else. But then he catches sight of the bruise clouding around one of her eyes, flicks his own eyes down to the broken tissue around her knuckles.
He stops and changes course before he can really think about it, moving to step into her path. It's probably none of his business, but she's just a kid and he's a doctor, and there's something in his DNA that won't let him walk away.
"Hey," he calls, gesturing her over, and when he gets a little closer he realises that he recognises her. He's seen her around Bramford a few times, and he's pretty sure he'd met her his first day here, though for the most part that whole day is a blur. Tris, his mind helpfully supplies eventually, and he's impressed he's managed that much in his sleep-deprived state. "You alright?"
Mid September, Lucy
Sep. 17th, 2017 11:13 pmHe shouldn't be day drinking, at least not in public. He's reasonably sure that's up there somewhere on the list of things you're not meant to do, but right now he couldn't care less. He'd done plenty of day drinking back home, and while he knows that was an entirely different situation, he's still using it as an excuse.
The other excuse, which he's still trying to wrap his head around, is that yesterday he was on a goddamn spaceship, and now he's back in Darrow.
Hawkeye had thought that turning up in this place was the strangest thing that could ever happen to him, but apparently he was wrong. He was so wrong, because then he'd woken up having a panic attack in a tiny little pod on the Avalon. He knows that Aurora is going through the ringer right now, undoubtedly in a worse state of mind than he is, but he's still allowing himself a drink. He's just made sure to at least go to a bar he doesn't normally go to, so that there's less of a chance of being spotted. Not that it matters, really. He's not on call and he's got nowhere else to be, and there's no army to dictate all of his movements anymore.
"Same again, if you'd be so kind," he says to the bartender, pushing his empty glass forward with the tip of his finger. He's had two already, but it'll take a lot more than that before he's on his ass, so he's not worried. "Did you know that yesterday I was in space?" he continues, though he knows there's a small chance that anybody is listening to him at all. "Space, I'm serious. There were robots and everything."
The robot bartender on the Avalon would have been more talkative than this guy, but maybe it's a good thing he's back around living, breathing people, even when they're entirely disinterested in him.
The other excuse, which he's still trying to wrap his head around, is that yesterday he was on a goddamn spaceship, and now he's back in Darrow.
Hawkeye had thought that turning up in this place was the strangest thing that could ever happen to him, but apparently he was wrong. He was so wrong, because then he'd woken up having a panic attack in a tiny little pod on the Avalon. He knows that Aurora is going through the ringer right now, undoubtedly in a worse state of mind than he is, but he's still allowing himself a drink. He's just made sure to at least go to a bar he doesn't normally go to, so that there's less of a chance of being spotted. Not that it matters, really. He's not on call and he's got nowhere else to be, and there's no army to dictate all of his movements anymore.
"Same again, if you'd be so kind," he says to the bartender, pushing his empty glass forward with the tip of his finger. He's had two already, but it'll take a lot more than that before he's on his ass, so he's not worried. "Did you know that yesterday I was in space?" he continues, though he knows there's a small chance that anybody is listening to him at all. "Space, I'm serious. There were robots and everything."
The robot bartender on the Avalon would have been more talkative than this guy, but maybe it's a good thing he's back around living, breathing people, even when they're entirely disinterested in him.
August 2, Daniel
Aug. 2nd, 2017 09:26 pmThe truth of the matter is, Hawkeye no longer remembers what a good martini is supposed to taste like. He knows the way he likes them, dry as the Sahara and with a burning feeling that slides down his throat when he swallows, but he also knows that's not necessarily how it's supposed to be. The drinks he and Trapper and then BJ concocted in The Swamp are a far cry from the drinks he gets served in Darrow. They'd had to work with whatever they could in Korea, and the end result tasted like boot polish more often than not, but it got them drunk a lot quicker, too. That had seemed the more important thing.
Here, it takes him at least three times as many drinks to get properly blackout drunk. He's doing his best not to need that, and the fact that it crosses his mind at all is something he'll never admit out loud. Hawkeye's always been a drinker and maybe that was exacerbated by Korea, but he refuses to admit that he drinks for any other reason than because he enjoys it here. It wasn't so much of a problem when the rest of the 4077th were in the same position as he was, whittling away their hours in the Officer's Club because it was better than the alternative. In Darrow it's the nightmares that get him, that leave him sweating and wide awake, his fingers itching for the stem of a martini glass.
He'd tried to do the responsible thing, spend a night at home, go to bed early, but it's barely past eleven when he first wakes up, sheets tangled around his legs. To hell with it he decides, and he dresses again quickly and heads for the nearest bar. The next thought he has however, is that maybe he should at least invite somebody with him. Maybe that will make it a more acceptable outing, and he can pretend a little while longer like this isn't a problem at all.
He considers asking Aurora, but he has enough presence of mind to know he's tiptoeing on the edge of cracking right now, and he doesn't want to say something to her that he'll regret. Instead, he digs out his phone and manages to send a text to Daniel. They'd vaguely promised a night of drinking and swapping war stories, and maybe that's what he needs right now, to drink and tell jokes to someone who will get it, shove the words out of his mouth quicker than the images can cloud his brain. With the invitation sent, Hawkeye settles onto a barstool and orders two drinks, setting the second one beside him. If Daniel decides to join him, it'll be his. If not, Hawkeye will just have to drink both of them.
Here, it takes him at least three times as many drinks to get properly blackout drunk. He's doing his best not to need that, and the fact that it crosses his mind at all is something he'll never admit out loud. Hawkeye's always been a drinker and maybe that was exacerbated by Korea, but he refuses to admit that he drinks for any other reason than because he enjoys it here. It wasn't so much of a problem when the rest of the 4077th were in the same position as he was, whittling away their hours in the Officer's Club because it was better than the alternative. In Darrow it's the nightmares that get him, that leave him sweating and wide awake, his fingers itching for the stem of a martini glass.
He'd tried to do the responsible thing, spend a night at home, go to bed early, but it's barely past eleven when he first wakes up, sheets tangled around his legs. To hell with it he decides, and he dresses again quickly and heads for the nearest bar. The next thought he has however, is that maybe he should at least invite somebody with him. Maybe that will make it a more acceptable outing, and he can pretend a little while longer like this isn't a problem at all.
He considers asking Aurora, but he has enough presence of mind to know he's tiptoeing on the edge of cracking right now, and he doesn't want to say something to her that he'll regret. Instead, he digs out his phone and manages to send a text to Daniel. They'd vaguely promised a night of drinking and swapping war stories, and maybe that's what he needs right now, to drink and tell jokes to someone who will get it, shove the words out of his mouth quicker than the images can cloud his brain. With the invitation sent, Hawkeye settles onto a barstool and orders two drinks, setting the second one beside him. If Daniel decides to join him, it'll be his. If not, Hawkeye will just have to drink both of them.
