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"Margaret? It's me. Can I come in?"

"No."

Hawkeye knocked on the door harder this time. It wasn't normal for Margaret to not eat the whole day, snap at people even more, and almost break down in tears when BJ was reading from his letter from Peg. He was worried about her, and he wasn't just going to let her cry in her tent by herself. Besides, Potter told him he had to talk to her. He tried again. "Come on, everyone else it in the Mess Tent or Post-op, no one will see me come in. I just want to talk!"

Margaret sighed as silently as she could. He obviously wasn't backing down. If she could wipe away the splotches of wet makeup on her face and get her eyes to not look so red, she could simply explain that she was fine and get him to leave. Perfect.

After getting herself as presentable as possible, she opened the door with a firm hand. "What do you want, Captain?" She forced the Major tone as hard as she could.

Hawkeye was much smarter than that. It takes a lot to go from sobbing to an expressionless Major in five seconds, and Margaret hadn't done it. "I want to talk to you."

She rolled her eyes, but let him in anyway. "Fine, but I don't think there's anything for us to talk about. I have a lot to do."

Hawkeye took a good look around her tent. It looked normal, nothing out of place…and there was a what underneath her bed?

He had to keep his eyes from bulging and popping out of their sockets. "Hey, uh, Major, can I ask you something?"

Margaret went to her dresser and ran a brush through her hair, more as a distraction than anything. "Make it quick."

"Why do you have a pregnancy book under your bed?"

I'm going to kill him.

Margaret turned around to find Hawkeye picking up the book, opening it, and finding all the highlighted spots and notes. She made no move to stop him. For once, she knew that she couldn't hide this by yelling or shoving him away. It was too late. As immature as he could be, she knew he wasn't stupid. He knew.

"Margaret, are you pregnant?" he turned dot her with a questioning, unsure smile.

She nodded but didn't get a chance to explain, he had grabbed her in a quick hug. "That's great, Margaret! Why haven't you told anyone?"

"Pierce, Scully is the father." That tiny, teensy, bitsy detail made all the difference. It decided that this would be difficult. That she would have a horrible future. That nothing would be easy about this.

Hawkeye's hands stayed around her waist, and Margaret wanted them to stay there. He sighed in understanding. "That's the not good news. Do you know for sure?"

She nodded. "I got the test done I Tokyo last week on R&R. If you tell anyone–"

"Margaret, Margaret." He quitted her in a calm, warm voice that made her shoulders drop. "I'm not going to tell anyone, alright? How are you doing with this?"

How am I doing? That was the stupidest question. She was pregnant! And the father, a scruffy irresponsible soldier, was who knows where! "Of course I'm not ok!" she yanked herself away from his embrace with a glare hardened in his direction. "Scully and I have only been together for a matter of months, I'm in the middle of a war, my father is going to kill me, and I don't have the first clue about where I'll live in the states!"

Hawkeye just stared at her. He wasn't shocked, disgusted, or afraid of her. Why wasn't he backing out? Why wasn't he yelling at her? "Get out, I don't want to talk to you," she ordered. She needed him gone.

"I'm the only one who knows?" He asked, ignoring her command. "Does he know?"

She watched him, debating whether or not to throw him out of her tent. "No." She decided that as long as he was civil, didn't push for information, didn't make jokes, and didn't annoy her, he could stay. "I haven't told him. And I'm not going to."

Hawkeye shook his head. He felt for her, he really did, but he also knew Scully was still a human being. "He's the father, he deserves to know about his own child."

"He won't want to raise the child." Margaret's eyes started to fill with tears and she choked on her words. Her breath was shallow and she hands shook. She wanted to break down. She wanted to go to sleep and wake up when her life was ok again. "He's not that type."

Hawkeye watched carefully as she continued to shake and tears collected in her eyes. "I'm going to be fine. I'll find somewhere to live in the States, and I'll get a job. I'll…I'll be fine."

It was her last sentence before she broke down in his arms.

"Shh, Margaret, it'll be ok, I promise." He rubbed her back in long, warm strokes as she cried into his shoulder. He hated seeing her cry. He'd seen her cry, sure, but he always felt sick about it afterwards.

She took a few breathes in as he led her onto her cot (she secretly thought he was very brave to be doing such a thing) and sat down with her. She leaned onto his shoulder for a good few minutes until her breath was even and she could talk again. It was calm. "Thank you," she murmured.

"Don't mention it." He opened his hand out to her, waiting for her to put her hand in his. She briefly froze, but after considering that he was the only one she could go to at the moment, she let her palm fall against his. The warmth of his fingers intertwining with hers made her sigh. "Feel a little better?"

She nodded weakly. Crying and screaming had sapped her energy at the late hour, and she couldn't contain the yawn that escaped her lips.

Hawkeye grinned to himself. She took on a new light in this position, nearly sleeping on his shoulder. "Come on, Margaret. Time for bed." He had to bite his tongue back to stop himself form making a joke. She didn't need that right now.

"Thank you," she mumbled out. Her face fell into annoyance as she remembered why she was dreading tonight so much. She started to get up reluctantly. "Never mind, I have post-op duty."

Hawkeye shook his head as he knelt in front of her. "You need your sleep, now for two. I'll take over your post-op duty and see what I can do to find Scully. I'll come check on you in the morning, alright?"

Her first instinct was to protest, but the look in his eyes told her he wasn't budging. And she decided that finding Scully wouldn't be so bad, she could at least find out how he felt about children in general. "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it. Just get some sleep, ok?" she nodded, and he grinned. "That's my Major. Good night, Margaret." He pressed a soft kiss on her forehead before making a hasty retreat. He missed the small smile and light blush that rested on the Major's face.

As he walked to post-op, he debated whether or not he was crazy. What made him jump into protection mode and volunteer to take care of her like that? He didn't regret it, but he would at least like his head to give him a reason why he did it.

With one last look towards the Major's tent, he headed into post-op.