Current mood:	anxious
Entry tags:	license artistic

licenseartistic: July Prompt
Title: Arrival
Fandom: M*A*S*H
Character: Radar O’Reilly
Word Count: 492
Rating: General Audience
Spoilers: Pre-Pilot

Disclaimer: M*A*S*H and its characters are the property of the writers, actors, and Twentieth Century Fox. No copyright infringement is intended.

Prompt: First

Squished between two privates, Radar held on tight to the edge of his seat as the jeep bumped over the hill, careened into the skeleton of a compound, and skidded to a halt beside an empty flagpole.

“We just pushed them back behind the 38^th,” one sergeant had said when Radar had landed, airsick and shell-shocked, in Kimpo with the group from Fort Riley, “so there probably ain’t hardly anything there yet.” The guy wasn’t really wrong, though it looked to Radar like they’d already gotten a pretty good start.

After the others clambered out of the vehicle, Radar reached behind him to grab his duffle and attempted to do the same. His bag tore open as he climbed down, spilling some of his belongings into the dirt.

“Aw, jeez!” he cried. But there was no time to pick up the mess. Radar heard someone approaching and he froze, locking himself into a salute.

“For God’s sake, Henry,” said a voice. “They don’t even look old enough to shave. Especially not the kid in the middle.”

It was coming from a tall fellow wearing rumpled scrubs - one of the surgeons, Radar guessed. But there was something about his eyes – and something beneath them, too – like an unspoken joke that just stayed and stayed - that made Radar think he was a little wicked.

“Corporal O’Reilly reporting for duty, sirs!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, and the sound of his voice made him even more conscious of how small he felt.

“At ease, son,” said the second, older, man.

“Yeah, no regular Army stuff around here,” added the first. “We’re just a hospital. Can’t you tell? We even make the cockroaches scrub in.”

“Relax and get your gear in order first. Corporal – Captain Pierce will show you to your bunk.”

Radar exchanged a look with the man he now knew as Captain Pierce, then bent down and started to gather his shorts, stuffing them back into his ruptured duffle. “Actually,” said Pierce as he knelt down beside Radar, “it’s Hawkeye. And what do they call you besides Corporal O’Reilly?”

“Radar,” Radar replied shyly. “And I do too.”

“You do too what?”

“I shave.”

“Who said you didn’t?”

Radar looked up, confused. Then he registered the sincerity in Hawkeye’s eyes and realized what he’d heard before wasn’t out loud. “Um. Nothing. I mean, nobody.”

Radar sensed that Hawkeye thought he was a bit funny, but, surprisingly, he didn’t seem scared off by it. And finally, after a tense and terrifying journey, Radar began to relax – just a little.

“So why Radar?”

“Because sometimes I know what’s gonna happen before it happens. My ma says it runs in my dad’s family.”

As Radar turned to pick up his bag, he noticed one ragged ear peaking out from the tear in the duffle's side. Surreptitiously, he pushed his teddy bear back in. He wasn’t ready to tell anybody about that just yet.