Page (lindaleriel8) wrote in mash100th,

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Only One Cure

There’s no cure. Kids rush in, get stitched up, get sent back to the front line. We do the stitching. Sometimes they’re saved, sometimes they aren’t. We have no control over who lives and dies. We try our best to save everyone.

We know that isn’t always possible.

And they die.

They die in our arms, they die under our knives, they die in their beds.

They die waiting.

And we watch this tango with fate. And our hearts break at every last breath taken. We’re ill from the stench of death. And there is no cure.

So we laugh.


Cookie to Hawkeye, please!!!
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