When Love Prevails: A M*A*S*H fanficiton

Aid to Recovery

Radar knocked softly on the door of Shayla's tent. Standing on tiptoes he was just able to peer into the room, to see if he was disturbing her or not.

"Come in Radar." Shayla called. Not needing to be told twice Radar entered the tent.

Shayla was sitting on top of her bed with her arm plastered up and in a sling. She had a magazine laid out across her lap, which was her only entertainment for the day.

"Hawkeye said I could come and see you. How's your arm?" Radar stepped towards Shayla's bed.

 "Oh, it's ok. Ben said I must have pulled a ligament in my wrist before I eventually broke the bone. He's told me to rest it and it should mend on its own." Shayla informed him.

"If you're resting, I'll leave..." Radar didn't want her to be deprived of resting because he had disturbed her peace. He turned to leave.

 "No, Radar, don't leave me." Shayla quickly stopped him. It was lonely being left in her tent while everyone else was able to get around and get on with their jobs. Ben visited every morning to check up on her and Major Houlihan had popped in to tell her that her shift was covered and she shouldn't worry about trying to back to normal routine until her arm was healed. Radar was the first social call and she didn't want him to leave that quickly.

 Turning back, Radar pulled the chair that was beside her bed out a little so he could comfortably sit in it and be able to talk to Shayla.

"Major Sidney Freeman's arrived." Radar opened the conversation up, figuring she probably hadn't heard much about what was happening around the camp.

 "The Psychiatrist?" She queried. Something about a psychiatrist being called had reached her ears but she hadn't caught the name.

 Radar nodded. He told her that Sidney was currently with Colonel Potter, BJ and her brother discussing the patient.

"Radar, I didn't get the chance to thank you for yesterday. I was so scared for everyone: Ben when he was hit, for BJ trying to tackle him, for the Father, for you, that I didn't spare a thought for myself. It was only when I was injured that realised just how scared I was and I didn't handle it very well. But you were there to comfort and reassure me and, at the moment, I really needed that." Shayla looked down at the floor as she spoke. She had never been one for admitting things, least of all emotions but she meant every word and wanted Radar to know how helpful he had been.

"Aw, it was nothing, well I mean, it was something. I was really worried for you." Radar was trying to form the right words to make sure she understood he had been scared for her too, but at the same time not to make such a big deal out of it as he could tell she didn't wish for it to be dragged out.

Shayla's magazine slipped off her lap and fell onto the floor. It was a welcome distraction for what could have been an awkward silence. Both made moves to retrieve it but Shayla realised she was too far away to be successful and retreated. Radar brought the magazine back up and glanced at the title: The Creative Writer's Monthly.

"You're into creative writing. I tried my hand at that. Got all the pamphlets and all, it was pretty neat." He handed her magazine back.

"What made you stop?" Shayla asked putting the magazine back on her lap.

"Oh, the colonel got mad at me for trying to be creative with the weekly reports. He said all those fancy words were not really 'me' talking. If I could write as 'me' then I would've, you know, that was what I trying to learn."

Shayla giggled imagining the Colonel's reaction to the 'creative' weekly reports. She concluded that they must have been more insightful then the average weekly report.