He pulls the Jeep into the motor pool and shuts it off. It's three o'clock in the morning, and even the stars have gone to sleep. He wishes he could; his heart still beats in his throat, drumming louder and louder with each passing second.

He almost died tonight.

His hands still grip the steering wheel, and he rests his forehead on his hands. They shake, the same way his breath does. He takes another breath, waits another beat, then he grabs his medical bag and hops out of the Jeep.

He hears the sound of pitter-pattering feet, and he looks up, squinting in the direction of the sound. Margaret runs closer, holding a flashlight in her hand. She's wearing her baby blue bathrobe and, now that she stands in front of him, she pulls it closed over her chest.

Hawkeye tries to smile. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he says.

Margaret's eyes widen and she steps forward. "You're alive," she whispers, reaching up to cup his face with her free hand. "My God, they were right."

"You seem surprised."

Her eyes search his, and he subconsciously reaches for the hand cupping his face. "We heard that there was a surgeon killed in action."

He squeezes her hand. "Wasn't me. Sorry to disappoint."

"Hawkeye."

The way she says his name, the way her eyes are so filled with fear…it breaks his heart. The stars have disappeared into the night, and he can't remember a time when he loved her more, but there was never a chance for them.

He pulls her forward. "I'm safe, Margaret. I promise."

She braces her hands against his chest and tucks her face into the crook of his neck. "Safe? Is that a word that exists?"

He smiles and holds her close. "Well, as safe as I can be in a war zone."

She presses her lips together. "I was so scared." She huffs out a teary laugh. "Not as scared as BJ was, though."

Hawkeye laughs at that, too, his eyes crinkling in soft amusement. He begins to sway with Margaret. "I think I was more scared than all of you combined."

"Yeah?"

"You have no idea." It's late, and he should probably go and wake BJ, let him know that he's still alive, but he wants to keep this moment. Right now, this moment belongs just to the two of them, almost as if it's a whispered promise. Three words fill the air in a way that used to make him balk, but now, he wants to tug Margaret closer, wants to tell her how much she means to him.

She's the one who steps back first.

And this, he knows, is the real casualty of war – a man and a woman, destined to love each other, destined to be so close, but destined to remain apart. It's time, he knows, to let her depart.

Before she leaves him, she shuffles closer, stands on her tiptoes, cups his neck with her free hand, and pulls his face down to meet hers in a soft kiss. His eyes fluttered closed, and he kissed her gently – tried to tell her, without words, that he loved her and he would never dare to hurt her. She kissed him in a way that told him that she knew.

She pulled away, and he resisted the urge to chase after her. She wiped her cheek with a shaking hand. "BJ needs to see you, Captain."

He nods once. "Of course, Major."

She turns and leaves him, and he wonders what he did to draw this card. Not that he would trade it, anyways.

He follows muscle memory back to the Swamp, where he tosses his medical bag onto his cot. He sits in the chair next to BJ and gently wakes him.

BJ opens his eyes blearily. "When I wake up, I'm gonna kiss you."

Hawkeye smiles. "Go back to sleep, Beej."

He settles back against the chair.

He almost died last night.