Hawkeye is seen in the show as being a ladies man and quite the player. We know his mom died when he was just 10 and we know Caryle and Trapper both left without saying bye to Hawkeye. So I decided to play with the idea that he has abandonment and commitment issues because of this. I borrowed some of the dialogue from the episode “The More I see of You” in the beginning.
“If you’d gone into medicine with the same lack of conviction as marriage”
“Your work is always going to be the single most important thing in your life”
“Maybe you would have needed me a little more”
“Doug was able to commit”
Lack of conviction”
“Work….important...lack of conviction”
“Hawk? Hawkeye? Earth to Hawkeye! Anybody up there?” waved a concerned BJ.
“Huh? Oh,yeah, what?” shook Hawkeye as he came back to reality.
“Did you say something?” asked Hawkeye realizing he had zoned out big time.
“Yea, I was asking if you wanted to get dinner. I heard Igor was sick of all the grief we gave him so he made an upside down dinner in retaliation.”
Hawkeye sat there contemplating whether food was more important than wallowing in self pity for the way he let things get between Carlye and him.
“Nah, I think I’m just going to nap. We are supposed to get a heavy influx of wounded by dawn and I want to catch up on sleep.” And with that BJ got up to leave and Hawkeye laid down in his army issued mess of a cot and shut his eyes.
“Incoming wounded! All Medical and Surgical staff report for triage! Looks like it will a doozy” barked the PA system.
Opening his eyes Hawkeye threw his pillow in the direction of Beej.
“Get up” he yelled.
The red haired man rose (wait that’s not right Beej has blonde hair)
“Did you dye your hair and forget to tell me?” asked the raven haired man confused.
“Not that I’m aware of” called back the other man as he was putting on his shoes.
The two quickly ran out the door.
In triage Hawk got right to work.
“This one has a chest wound. Get some blood in him and get him prepped”
“This one can wait”
Hawkeye barked orders to the nurses. He got up and made a run for the O.R.
“Hawkeye! How goes it?” asked Klinger, who was running in the same direction as him.
“Ahh!” yelped Klinger as he threw his head forcefully into the dirt.
Hawkeye stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the man. Cocking his head to the side he says, “ Klinger, a landmine went off. You’re fine. Get your head out of the dirt this instant. Anybody looking on would think you're bucking for a section 8 again. By reason of ostrich.
“I’m not acting sir” deadpanned Klinger as he lifted his head, shaking the dirt out of his hair.
Hawkeye blinked and shook his head. Klinger was right, he was an ostrich through and through.
“When did this happen?” he asked.
“I’ve always been one sir. You just couldn’t tell since I spend so much of my time in dresses confident I can get out of the Army. But to be honest I’m scared as shit. Scared of dying and scared I won’t ever return to Toledo the same as I left.”
The two were now in the scrub room. Hawkeye was washing up.
“So Beej dyes his hair and forgets to tell me and you're an ostrich?What else will happen today.”
“Beej didn’t dye his hair. He is a robin.”
“A robin? As in the bird?” questioned Hawkeye as he patted his hands dry.
“He is a songbird. Yes. If you don’t believe me just look at him yourself.”
The two had somehow ended up in the O.R and Hawkeye was at a table picking apart peacock feathers. Hawkeye looked up and to his surprise Beej was in fact a big fat plump red robin - complete with wings and a beak.
Looking at Klinger Hawkeye was left to wonder, “why?”
“He left his baby girl very early on in her life.”
Again Hawkeye had moved from the O.R back into the scrub room. These abrupt scene changes were getting awfully annoying.
“We all left family to be dragged to this God Forsaken Hell Hole. Why should he be so special.”
“Well for much of the same reason that I’m scared he feels guilty about leaving during such a crucial part of his little girl's life.”
“My mom left me early on in life, I turned out fine.” Hawkeye spat back.
Hawkeye who realized he was sitting on the bench leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes. Pursing his lips together he began to ask more questions trying not to dwell on the fact his mom left him.
“So Beej is guilty and you're scared. Is there anyone else I should know about?”
Silence. Klinger was trying to figure out what to say. This was all coming out too fast. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. His job was to help propel the story along and these observations were supposed to happen naturally. Well as naturally as having birds operate on patients who just see the shell of the person not the bird. But no this man was too smart for even his unconsciousness. Finally he began to speak, slowly hoping he wouldn’t reveal too much.
“Our fearless leader Potter is a bald eagle because he is insecure in his talents. He is a career man - as I’m sure you’re aware of. But he lacks the knowledge of all these fancy techniques you young doctors seem to pick up so easily. Margaret is a puffin because all she wants to do is be accepted by everyone. Frank is a hummingbird because he is annoying as all shit and is very insecure due to it. Oh and you’re a peacock.”
That got Pierce to shoot up like a bean pole.
“Wait! Aren’t you going to tell me why I’m a peacock?” his voice raised and wavered a bit.
“Sorry sir, you’ll have to figure that one out on your own.
“What why? Klinger, you gotta tell me! Come on we know everyone else’s insecurities, why can’t I know my own?”
Klinger didn’t know how to respond. He knew he had 3 sets of 10 minutes and 1 set of an hour of time to try and get Hawkeye to learn why he is a peacock. But he also knew it was up to his subconscious to interact with his unconscious to help move the narrative.
“Ow!” yelped Hawkeye breaking the silence.
“What the hell was that?”
Not even Klinger had an explanation.
All of sudden a flying pillow came out of nowhere.
Klinger now understood what was happening. Someone was trying to wake Hawkeye. There little mental party would be ending soon.
“Hawk” echoed a ghostly sound.
“Why are you calling me a Hawk, I thought you said I was a peac-”
His eyes shot open! Looking down at him were a pair of blue eyes. Beej
“What? What happened?” Hawkeye asked as he began to get up.
“Wounded” called Beej as he put on his converse.
“Suction! So yea, don’t know what any of that means but thought I’d share my dream with the rest of the class,” said Pierce as he tried to stop a bleeder his patient had come in with.
“That’s scary accurate. Especially my fear. How did you pin us all down like that?” called BJ concentrating on his own bleeder.
“Pierce, are you good with birds? Seems like you pinned us to an appropriate matching bird” called Potter.
Hawkeye was now working on closing up the patient, “I’ve gone bird watching with my dad back in Maine. One time when I was a kid, right when mom died, he decided to get his mind off her death he was going to do a Big Year. I would come along on bird watching expeditions during school breaks and weekends. But I still would like to know why I’m a peacock. Of all the birds to be.” called Hawkeye.
“If it bugs you that much, why don’t you ask Sidney the next time he comes up for Poker.” said BJ when they were back in the Swamp.
They were finally out of surgery and the two swamp rats were playing tennis with a blown up surgical glove they took from the scrub room.
A week later, before Poker was supposed to take place, Sidney was set up in the VIP tent chatting with Hawkeye.
“So you dreamt about everyone’s fears personifying and taking the form of birds? What do you think it means?” lead the Psychiatrist.
“I don’t know Sidney, you tell me, you’re the expert on these types of things.” pleaded Hawkeye, who had taken up pacing around the tent.
“Hawk, I want you to get to that conclusion yourself. It won’t be helpful if I do it for you.”
Hawkeye stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What do you want to hear. I want to be as helpful as possible. In my dream Klinger said basically the same thing.”
“Humor me and tell me about your childhood, that’s always a good place to start when talking about fears and issues,” claimed Sidney.
“My childhood. What do you wanna know” asked Hawkeye.
“How was your relationship with your mom?”
“Nonexistent. I’ve told you before she died when I was 10. Just been dad and I since then.” replied Hawkeye flatley.
“Do you have any resentment towards her dying?” pried Sidney.
“You know dad didn’t even tell me she was sick? He waited until she passed to come clean and tell me. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I was angry for years. At her for getting sick and at dad for not having the decency to tell me she was sick. But I got over it. No hard feelings”
“Ok, so issues from mom, how about dad?”
“Dad? Oh he was great! After mom died we became thick as thieves. He was the one who inspired me to go into medicine. He wasn’t too happy about it to be honest.” gleaned Hawk.
“I remember you telling me last time I was here that there was a nurse here that you had an old fling with. How did that end?”
“Caryle. I really don’t know what happened. We were living together during residency you know.”
Raising an eyebrow Sidney interjected, “ So you guys were serious?”
“That’s what I thought.” continued Hawkeye. “But just like mom and just like Trapper did 6 months ago, she up and left. I didn’t get to say bye or anything. She just one day decided she had enough of me, packed her bags and was out of the apartment before I even had time to get home and try and stop her. I thought Trapper would have at least left something. But I guess not. I guess I’m just not worth the hassle to say bye too. God. Why did dad not let me tell mom bye. Her own son was in the dark. I get Caryle and Trapper. It was bound to happen. Unhappy relationship and discharge but God, mom? Really? I hated her for it you know. I just wish once someone would leave and tell me about it first. Why do I always have to be the last to know. I bet the thing I got going on with Beej will end just as abruptly as it did with Trapper.” rambled on Hawkeye.
“Hawkeye, stop a minute, let’s process all that you said.” steered Sidney realizing he was losing his patient rapidly.
Hawkeye shut up and listened.
“You mention over and over that you never got to say goodbye to all these people. You also mention being the last to hear of relationships ending.”
“Yea, so?” sighed Hawkeye.
“Let’s go back to the dream. In the dream you describe each of your friends as birds relating to their fears and issues. Beej - your best friend is a robin because he is guilty for leaving his baby girl. Klinger is an ostrich - which I never would have pegged him as so thank you for that lovely image - because he is scared and fearful he won’t return home and if he does he will be completely different. Potter is a bald eagle because he is insecure in his abilities despite being a career man in the army. Margaret is a Puffin because she has the fear that she will never fit in anywhere so she forces herself to. And Frank is a hummingbird because he is insecure in his own way and -”
“ - a peacock for commitment issues” finished Hawkeye.
“Precisely. It seems like you are scared to trust people because everyone seems to leave you at some point. Starting way back when your mom left you abruptly. Oh also in my own professional diagnosis I would also tack on abandonment issues” added Sidney.
“What gives Sid, I thought you were going to let me come to the conclusion on my own accord.” whimpered Hawkeye.
“Eh, I see how hard you’re trying to figure this all out, so I decided to give you a freebie” laughed Sidney.
“Well in true Freud fashion, my issues really do stem from my mother,” laughed Hawkeye sadly.
The two sat for another hour trying to brainstorm ways Hawkeye could push past these thoughts of abandonment and commitment issues and how he could overcome them.
Karima walks down the dingy halls of the rundown motel. She listens to every little sound, trying to distinguish the steps of rodents from the steps of any potential witnesses that she doesn’t need.
Beginning to turn a corner, a door opens near the end of the hallway, catching her off-guard. She quietly gasps, and pushes her back against the wall and becomes invisible to the human eye.
The person slowly proceeds forward, each of their thudding footsteps vibrating the floor and echoing against the walls. It was as if they were walking in slow-motion or trying to fuck around with someone.
But that theory was quickly debunked as Karima saw a heavy-set man walk by with a cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth and his eyes closed.
“What the fuck,” the teen muttered quietly to herself.
She needed to get in and get out cause this place was really giving her the heebie-jeebies.
She stealthily continued her way down the hall, keeping aware of her surroundings knowing this wasn’t the most trustworthy place. As she neared the last door, she reached to her side, her hand hovering over her knife. She unsheathed the weapon and rested her other hand on the doorknob.
The teen quietly twists it and finds the room clean (well as clean as this place could be) and empty as if no one had ever been there. She walked in tensely and flipped the lamp on, causing a dull light to emerge.
She surveys the room and after finding no immediate threat, Karima begins to scramble through everything; the draws, the bathroom, the closet, all of it. She then reaches the bed. She doesn’t want to look, if she’s being honest. Because if she finds nothing, then she has no leads. If she has no leads, then she loses her. And she can’t lose her. Not again.
She inhales deeply, and exhales deeper. A trembling hand reaches out and starts to pull back the covers. Her hand pauses briefly before she decides to rip off the band-aid.
After the covers, it was the pillows. After the uncomfortable ass pillows, it’s the whole damn mattress itself. She assesses the bed frame and finds nothing. She looks through the pillow cases and finds nothing. She cut open the pillow and still nothing.
Karima takes a breath, trying to calm down her rapidly beating heart.
“C’mon, c’mon,” she mutters to herself as she cuts open the mattress.
Her arm slips through the well-sized slit she created and immediately, it comes into contact with a folder. She immediately snatches the material out and rips the orange holder open.
Inside of it was over two thousand dollars and a section of a map.
Karima let out a sigh and ran a hand over her flushed face. Putting the items she found in her jacket, she headed towards the door.
Right before exiting, a glint of light flashed against her eyes. Looking on the headboard, she stalks towards the furniture and reaches out for the shiny metal. In her hand was a chain with a pyramid pendant. The teen turns the object over in her palms and on the back, it read, “I pledge.”
Karima bowed her head, then lifted it, giving the room one last look over before shutting the light off and leaving.
Natasha Romanoff was never one to be vulnerable. Whenever she got a splinter, the woman never whimpered or winced. It was simply a task of finding something small enough and yanking it out. Whenever she had gone undercover, she never shed tears over the mental and emotional toll pretending to be someone else took. She just did her job, no questions asked or hesitation given
Growing up, she was taught that being vulnerable equated to being weak. It has been engraved in her brain like her mind was some sort of headstone; it was all she would ever be.
A weapon that never wept.
When the Avengers were first assembled, Natasha was... skeptical, one could say. These were people she didn’t necessarily trust, but she had to for the fate of the world.
It was a whirlwind, to say the least. She had been trained to be a spy and use her body and reproductive organs to her advantage. She was never taught how to deal with aliens or other-worldly creatures. But she did it because she was, however, brought up to believe that failure results in punishment. And Natasha refused to fail.
As time went on, the heroes slowly became people she could rely on. They would always have her back and vice versa. Regardless of that, she would never share her deepest, darkest secrets or thoughts.
So when she jolted up from her bed, sticky from sweat, the woman quickly wiped those few tears that had been mistakenly shed and went to the shower which washed away any remnants of the involuntary recollection of her past.
It was as if her mind was on auto-pilot as she made her way to the kitchen, ready to prepare some tea. And it was only then that her mind became aware of her surroundings.
At the counter, someone was hunched over. They were holding a small glass before bringing it to their mouth.
The man shot his head up and straightened his back. He cleared his throat and nodded at his company.
The red-head continued walking over and sat across from the genius and gave him a once-over.
He looked tired; drained.
He slouched over his drink and stared into the abyss that was the liquid.
“Why are you up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” he shrugged. “You?”
She nodded in response and muttered a quiet ‘same’ before they were both forcefully sucked back into awkward silence.
Tony let out a sigh after a moment and pushed himself up to grab a second glass. He reached under the counter into the cabinet and grabbed the bottle of vodka.
The man pushed both items to the woman who had an apprehensive eyebrow raised.
He gestured towards the liquid in encouragement and went back to sipping his own.
Letting out a sigh, Natasha filled her cup and slouched against the kitchen counter as well.
The philanthropist raised his glass. In response, the former spy copied his actions and clinked them together.
It was a silent vow to at least try.
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