Softly – “Hawk?”
Hawkeye was asleep.
Louder – “Hawk!”
And now he was awake.
“Where are you?”
“Under a pillow,” Hawkeye murmured to himself.
(The way that was spoken was different, no mere irritation – that was fear, longing, and anger too, blended together into one word)
Emerging slowly, Hawkeye shivered in New England cold and ambled downstairs. His father was waiting for him there.
“Hawkeye...” he said softly, gently, holding a brown envelope – return address, the US government.
Hawkeye swayed back and forth on his bare feet, naked except for the blanket wrapped around him. “Oh,” he said, after a while.
Cookie to Hawk.