He was humming Alabama when his heart dropped and his invisible companion's song was with his. Of all the states, he was going to die singing of Alabama! If that wasn't reason to hate himself, he wasn't sure what was.

Cold showers he had had plenty of. The compound had been shelled a too-great number of times. Artillery had flown right by and-- you know what? That one time Trap's not-kid Kim had gone into the mine field, and Trap had gone in after him. The feeling Hawkeye feels now is a lot like then. It's familiar. It's fear, but he's always some level of scared, but this fear is just shy of terror and hopelessness in a way that made his gut feel warm and light.

Because it's fear that something... bad. might happen. But there's hope. Some of it. Some hope that if he did something right, that one bad thing might not have to happen after all. He doesn't dare step forward. His eyes scan his surrounding frantically. He's got to remember to breathe. He's silent. Now he's certain he is. And if someone moves, he'll hear. He remembers seeing the throwing weapons on the tables, in that room to impress the judges. His smile fades, but no. No, he's not thinking about those.