Fandom was chilly again this morning, and it was barely time for breakfast when Hawkeye walked down Apocalypse Avenue towards his house. Alianne's desk was now completely covered in saran wrap and sticky tape. He didn't know Aly very well, but he figured from what he knew of her that she would appreciate a prank like that.

The end of the year was approaching, and while Hawkeye was calmer than he had been before, something still didn't sit well with him. He had tried spending some time in his office yesterday, but he wound up having to escape quickly because it set off his claustrophobia. The problem, he theorized, was that he had nothing to occupy his mind. He set to work solving that by pranking. Perhaps tonight he'd go to Caritas or the Devil's Nest and try his luck at meeting someone. If he was desperate there was the Sin, but he liked to think he hadn't lost his touch.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't see the man standing at his front gate until he was a few feet away.

"There's a man who's feeling sorry for himself."

Hawkeye stopped and blinked. ( Sidney? )

For the housemates, Zoe, Tick and the rescue team.

( Yay Christmas )

Dear Sidney,

This time last year I got a job working as a Vice Principal at Fandom High in the year 2006. The Principal is from the future and the Dean of Students is a superhero who wears tights. Some of the students are from the past or the future. Some have superpowers. Some are from other planets.

This past year, Fandom was attacked by snow monsters, jello dragons, mummies and trolls.

Hope you're well.

Your friend,

Hawkeye

Dear Dad,

It's only been a few days since I left, but already I feel like I need to write to you to keep my sanity intact. Things are business as usual here, and that's what worries me. They get attacked, and then once the weekend is over they pick up their lives and go on like nothing ever happened. In a way, it's a good mentality because what else can you do except keep shuffling along the mortal coil until you reach the end? On the other hand, it makes me wonder whether they all realize how close they come to falling off every time.

I've been trying not to think about it, and I've almost succeeded a couple of times. Christmas is nearly here and someone down the hall has something called The Chipmunks Greatest Christmas Hits playing. I'll have to track it down and send it to you. I think you'd enjoy it. It's been snowing since I got back and it's nice and quiet and easy to forget the panic and chaos of a few weeks ago. Everyone's settling down for the New Year. Will it be the last that some of them see? Are we just kidding ourselves thinking we can stay here and get through anything the world throws at us? Am I being too melodramatic?

Probably.

I suppose what I can't shake is that high school isn't supposed to be about life and death, it's just supposed to seem that way.

But enough about me. Let's talk about you. Have a Merry Christmas, Dad. Your gift is in the mail and I hope you like it. Maybe next year we can spend the holidays together. It's been too long. Give my best to everyone. I'll do the same for you to everyone here, even the squirrels.

Your son,

Hawkeye

Hawkeye was back in Fandom. One minute he was drinking quietly at Harry's Happy Hideaway in Crabapple Cove circa 1955 and ignoring the bar fight going on behind him. The next, he was being rescued by a group of his students, learning the true meaning of Fandom, being hauled out of there physically, saying goodbye to Dad and walking back across the causeway in no time.

After a sleep, a shower, a shave and some real food and coffee, he was feeling almost human again. Almost.

He had to apologize to Zoe at some point, and find out if the house was okay, and catch up on paperwork. He hated the paperwork the most.

The door was open if anyone needed to stop by.

Crabapple Cove wasn't a very big town, and by extension it didn't normally have many drunks. Unfortunately, tonight was far from normal because there were plenty of men heading up north for the holidays and Crabapple Cove was the perfect place to stop in for a drink or four.

In the case of most of the men in the bar, more than four. The place was called Harry's Happy Hideaway, but the name was false advertising because it certainly wasn't happy. Most of the dozen or more people in the bar, including one surprisingly still sober Hawkeye Pierce, were cold, tired and drinking to get drunk. Hawkeye was just taking his time getting drunk tonight. He was nursing a martini (of course), sitting at the bar with his back to the door.

It wasn't the wisest of positions to be in, but then Hawkeye didn't know that he was meant to going to be killed tonight. Soon. Very soon. So soon that the first punch had just been thrown behind him, sending the victim crashing into the jukebox.

Hawkeye glanced over his shoulder, but then turned back to his drink. He wasn't planning on getting involved. Things usually didn't go according to plan.

[OOC: For the intrepid time travelling rescuers. Doc Brown would be proud.]

I should have posted this earlier, but it completely slipped my mind.

Hawkeye left the island on Wednesday without telling anyone and without taking anything other than his wallet. Anyone who calls him will just get the voicemail and no reply. He hasn't been back at the house since Sunday. So pretty much no one knows where he is, except perhaps a squirrel or two and anyone who may have been down near the causeway on Wednesday night.

It was dusk when Hawkeye finally emerged from his office, eyes bloodshot, clothes dishevelled and in desperate need of a shave and a shower. A week and a half had passed since the troll attack on Fandom. After the fight, Hawkeye drank as heavily as he had during his time in Korea, only condensed into a week instead of several years. Then came a couple of days of solitude.

His mind had been ticking over, trying to resolve the dilemma that had rooted itself in his mind and festered. Children and fighting. The resolution never came. He couldn't figure it out himself. The anger and frustration seethed under the surface until he finally got off the couch.

Hawkeye didn't wander when he left his office, not even closing the door behind him. He went first to Zoe's office, but didn't find her there. Unperturbed by the lack of Zoe, he turned and walked straight to the principal's tower. Each step took effort, but he finally reached his destination.

He knocked on the door.

Then he knocked heavier before Zoe even had a chance to open the door.

Then, fuelled by the chance to finally lash out at something, he pounded on the door hard enough for pain to jar up his arm.

[OOC: For bigdamndean]

Hawkeye's in his office again, buried under a blanket. The door is only open a crack. The only difference today is that Hawkeye has himself set up to an IV.

Lazy bastard.