14

I own nothing and am just writing a little HM story please don't sue me. I have nothing – honest. My timescale may be a little off but hey theirs wasn't great either. All I know is Radar has gone home. This is set well after "Whats Up Doc, and Commrades In arms"

I tried to break this into chapters but they wouldn't let me– soits long sorry.

Hold me.

The mess tent was slowly filling with the unwilling lunch time trade. The casualties were thankfully slow and they'd allhad the luxury of a few hours sleep. And now the time was knawing away at each of them. Their life on hold waiting for the next influx of wounded. But for now they would only play as only the 4077 could.

"Please Hawk, don't sniff your..." BJ just turned his head away in time to actually miss his friend smell his food. But it didn't matter he knew he'd done it. His own fork clattered against his plate, as BJ slowly almost reverently began banging his forehead against on the table.

In the same tone of voice his friend had just used to him Hawkeye spoke. "Please Beej, don't bang…" Captain BJ Hunnicutt stopped and looked up smiling. Both men laughed. The third man at the table up till now unmoved by the whole charade; Charles Emmerson Winchester the III stood and lifting his plate in one hand his coffee cup in the other moved tables. The two men who were now giggling followed him.

Each berating the other for "upsetting Charles."

The whole pantomime watched by their CO who just shook his head as he turned his attention back to his sister's letter about her birthday.

After moving tables twice, Charles finally broke. "Gentlemen, gentlemen please sniff your food, bang your heads. But know this. You will never break a Winchester."

"Charles our intention was never to break you, only to get you to bend a little." Hawkeye looked almost sincere.

Until BJ spoke. "Only to get you to join us in the game of musical chairs"

Charles sank into his original chair. As his two colleagues collapsed in laughter, Charles turned and glared before a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Major Houlihan passed by the mess tent and carried on towards her quarters. She just wasn't in the mood to be with people. Tonight she wanted no-one's company but her own, it was moments like this that she missed a bathtub, usually the showers were fine, but some day's like today she'd give a months pay for a bath. To be able to soak in a warm scented tub – a luxury she missed. Just one of many things she'd miss – if she ever allowed herself too.

Klinger entered the mess tent handing out the mail from home – Charles took his letter and moved toward the swamp, BJ joined him everything forgotten the moment they received their mail.

Both men were soon engrossed in news from home. Hawkeye watched them almost jealous of their contact with the outside world. He idly turned over the letter from his congressman and decided to save it for when he was desperate – which judging by the way things were going should be 10 minutes.

He finished his coffee, and toyed with the idea of another cup. Before going over to post op and another 4 hour shift.

Margaret lay on her cot, unwilling to acknowledge the information in the letter.

Hawkeye stretched as he left post op, stifling a yawn he considered going to the swamp then his feet changed direction.

He couldn't remember seeing Margaret at lunch – or what passed for lunch here. He wandered over in the direction of her tent. Smiling at how times had changed, now he sort out Margaret's company. He enjoyed spending time with her, and knew she enjoyed it too. The sense of fun and humour that she kept hidden just below the surface was like a drug.

"Margaret, you there, can I come in?" He knocked, as best as you can on a tent.

She remained quiet; did she want to see him?

"Come in" The decision was made.

"I didn't see you at the ritual poisoning at lunchtime, so I thought I'd see if you had a hidden peanut butter sandwich somewhere on your person." He grinned. "I'm willing to conduct a search."

The look on her face told him something was wrong, his eyes moved to the screwed up letter on the table.

"Margaret you okay?" The concern in his voice brought her back to reality.

"Yes I'm fine, I've just had some news" The sentence remained open, so he waited.

"I've had a letter from Donald's mother."

Hawkeye's eyebrow raised an inch; he knew her MIL hadn't been friendly even when she's been married to Donald, so he doubted the letter was full of niceties. He waited.

"You know we didn't see eye to eye." She sat on her bunk.

He nodded and pulled up the only chair sitting on the edge as he leaned towards her. Margaret's mind travelled back to the last time they'd sat this close. That night she'd read him a letter a carefully worded letter she'd written to Donald about 'Hank.' It seemed odd that with him she could be honest. She looked at him and realised he was waiting for her to say anything – something.

"Here read it yourself." She tried unsuccessfully to unscrew the letter but failed and handed him the crumpled piece of paper.

His hand touched hers as he took the letter and started to read.

'Dear Major Houlihan.

As you are aware from my previous letter Donald is happily married to Eleanor, and I know you will be pleased to know they have been safely delivered of a baby daughter who will be christened Elizabeth Jane Penobscott.

So as you can see Major Houlihan the brief error in judgement he made by his marriage to yourself has been wiped clean.

Yours

M.A Penobscott (Mrs).'

Hawkeye screwed the letter into a ball. The anger he felt toward a woman he'd never met scared him.

He lowered his head. Good Lord, why was Donald's mother rubbing it in, the woman sitting beside him now was out of her sons life – so why? Then he knew because she could.

He doubted Donald was aware of the letter, in his brief meetings with the man he'd seemed "okay" maybe under different circumstances the two men, might have been friends. But marriages during wartime didn't have a good strike rate. And Margaret was his best friends.

He looked up. Margaret was watching his face; her eyes were not as he expected them to be, full of tears, but calm.

"Margaret." He started but did not know what to say babies and marriage were more BJ's line.

"It's okay Hawkeye; it hurt the first 2000 times I read it, now I'm just numb."

He reached out, engulfing her hand in his. "Why?" He indicated to the screwed up letter.

"No idea, she writes every now and again, rubbing salt into the wound. I promise myself I'll return them unopened but I can't."

She stopped speaking and stood moving over to her foot locker she removed a box, then scattered its contents all over her bunk. Letters, lots of them covered the bunk she scattered them with her hand before lifting one out and opening it. "This is a good one; she sent me a picture of the wedding too." She handed him a picture but he couldn't bring himself to look, he just listened to her voice laced with pain and embarrassment.

"This one's of the honeymoon in the South of France." She ran her hand over the envelopes.

"Why do you keep them?"

"I don't know - maybe as a reminder of what I could have had – or what a lucky escape I had – I just don't know. Here you'll like this she's sent a picture of the baby would you like to see?"

Hawkeye watched her hand shaking as she handed him a picture. He looked a baby – it could have been anyone's baby – in his experience babies were meant to bring joy not used top cause pain.

"I just don't know what to say Margaret."

"Do you know something?" She moved to sit closer to him and he could see this was hurting her. But figured it best to let her talk, Margaret had a habit of bottling her emotions up. Better to let her talk. "As soon as I saw the picture, I wondered if that's what our daughter would have looked like. Donald's and mine." She glanced at him her eyes almost begging him to understand and not judge her. "His wife is similar to me in looks blonde hair, eye colour, build. If I'd been pregnant that time. Is this what our daughter would have looked like?"

"Maybe Margaret, maybe I don't know."

She looked deflated as she gathered up the pictures and letters returning them to the box as she spoke.

"Donald will be a good father. I wish them happiness." She moved to return the box.

"Yes he will."

He stood and pulled her to him. And she held him for all she was worth but not a tear did she shed.

"Please hold me. I'm scared."

"I am holding you Margaret."

"Hold me tighter I can't feel it. Please."

They stood each holding the other for a few moments, before she spoke. "I can't see me with a child you know. When I dream I can't see my future at all. All I see is death."

He sat on the bunk and pulled her down with him, she moved so her head rested on his shoulder. As she once had in Post Op.

"It's this damned place; it wears you down, wrings you out and leaves you drained. No one is the same once they've been here. You can't spend time here and stay the same. Or you won't survive."

"Maybe." She paused, her fingers playing with a button on his uniform "Hawkeye can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Can you imagine yourself away from here? Back home with a future."

"Some days I think all I want to do when I leave here is sleep. Curl up and sleep. And then other days I can't imagine this war ever ending."

"Me too."

"You too what?"

"I want to sleep, and have a bath in a room with a lock on it."

"Margaret I'm sorry."

"You said that to me then."

"What? Sorry - when?"

"After we'd done the test, you said 'I'm glad it turned out the way I'd wanted. And then you said you were sorry too.' And when you said it I realised I was too."

"I was sorry Margaret; it took all my strength not to cry then."

"Really?"

"Yes, you're my friend and I could see you were hurting, I'll tell you a secret, I cried later."

"Did you? It hurt me, but not enough to make me cry. I was just pleased it was negative and I could stay in the army. It's my life."

"I know."

"Thank you Hawkeye."

"For what."

"For crying for my baby when I couldn't."

"I was crying for the mother as well as the baby."

"Hawkeye."

"Yes."

"Nothing. Just Hawkeye"

"Margaret, Sometimes I wish I could take you away from here. From the bodies, the blood, the OR, the smells, and this whole damned mess they call a war. And most of all I wish you could hold me while I sleep"

"I wish I could make it better Hawk."

"I wish you could too. But we can't."

"No."

"Know your limitations. It reminds me of something Henry told me once." He paused remembering Henry, and the days when they'd all been young.

He lifted his head from its resting place on her hair "Margaret can you hear music?"

"Yes, you're not going mad; some one has put on a song at Rosie's"

"That time already" He made to look at his wrist then realised he didn't have a wristwatch.

"Hawk?" She touched his arm bring him back to reality.

"Margaret? Ah yes I was telling you about Henry. He told me once two things he learned at command school. One .Young men die. Two Doctors can't change rule 1.Do you believe that Margaret?"

"I don't know I've seen surgery performed here that anywhere else would have been hailed as miracles. People leave here with a chance, a lot of that is down to you."

"We're a good team."

"Yes we are."

The silence slipped into sleep maybe not for long and maybe not in the place they wanted to be but still sleep. The wind rattled the tent and woke them both. Unwilling to break the moment yet knowing staying here like this could lead to other things Hawkeye almost jumped to his feet, then gazed almost into space, as if he could see the future, as he smiled. "Darlene"

She looked up and smiled, "Yes Hank" Playing along.

"Would you care to dance?"

"Yes I'd love to."

"So would I. Shall we go find and findourselves partners?" He opened the door and gestured toward the Officers club.

She laughed out loud. "Why not, can you wait just a minute?" She lifted the brush and pulled in briefly through her hair. She heard his breathing behind her and caught his reflection in her mirror – he was watching her and she hurried to finish – he was her friend she didn't want to tease him.

Turning toward him she smiled, he knew she'd seen him watching her; he lifted his hand and touched her hair pulling her to him briefly.

They walked across the compound and she tucked her arm into his,

"Hawkeye, Thanks"

"Are you, alright?"

"No, but I'll be okay."

"Me too"

"Me three, what are we talking about?" BJ had caught up with his friends and draped his arm around Margaret's shoulders.

The two looked at each other briefly and smiled "Just life"

Margaret said as she opened the door to the club allowing the two men to enter first "Just life BJ, just life."

"Is that all, call me when you're talking about something serious will ya." BJ entered first. "Ah Charles."

Hawkeye paused, and took her hand in his. "Margaret you'll make a good Mom someday."

"Yes maybe I will. Maybe I will."

"Come on you two. Charles is buying."

"I am not."

"Thank you Major."

"Father, I'm not buying…oh what the hell."

"Charles!"

"What? Oh I'm sorry Margaret, Please Father accept my apologises."

"No need Major."

"Thank you Father. Bartender - bartender."

"Major you bellowed"

"Ah Klinger my good man, four of your excellent beers here and of course one for the piano player."

"Thank you Major" Father Mulchay raised the beer.

Margaret pulled her friend to his feet to dance with her.

"Margaret I don't dance."

"Oh go on Charles they're playing your song" The two men egged him on.

Father Mulchay immediately changed to classical much to the dismay of the other dancers.

For a large man Margaret was always surprised by Charles grace on the dance floor, as they moved around it easily.

"May I cut in" As they broke BJ immediately started to dance with Charles leaving Margaret laughingas Charles struggled to escapeas he did BJ switched to dancing with Margaret.

Charles turned and asked Kelly to dance.

Hawkeye stepped up and touched BJ's shoulder "May I?"

Sherman Potter entered the club, as the swap was happening

"What's this then musical dance partners now?"

"Have a drink Colonel – Charles is buying"

Charles just shrugged and turned his back to them as he guided Kelly smoothly around the floor. BJ sat next to their CO as they watched their friends dancing.

"Hi." Margaret whispered as they settled into a comfortable shuffle

"Hi yourself Darlene– I'm Hank, do come here often?"

Sometimes all you need is a friend to hold you while you dance.

The end.

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