A/N: Thanks for following up to the end- hope you enjoy this last installment!

Epilogue

26 July 1953

"Oy! Kathy, you rascal…" The offending six-year-old giggled and allowed herself to be swept up into Hawkeye's arms. "I thought I said it was bedtime," he said in mock sternness. She just giggled harder.

"I couldn't sleep," she stated matter-of-factly.

He carried her towards the kitchen, where he had been heading himself, and plopped the pajama-clad girl on the counter. "Well that makes two of us," he admitted. "You know what the best cure for sleeplessness is?"

"What?"

"Well," he opened the refrigerator and began rummaging for necessary ingredients, "on cold winter nights, a hot cup of cocoa. On warm summer nights like this- a big glass of chocolate milk."

"Mommy doesn't let us have chocolate right before bed," she whispered.

Hawkeye turned and raised his brows. "Is that so?" she shook her head. "Well I'll tell you what- this will be our little secret, okay? I won't tell if you won't." The girl nodded and he went about concocting a big glass of milk for himself and a smaller one for Kathy. When he was finished, he led her quietly out onto the front porch, careful to shut the door softly behind them so as to not wake the sleeping Becky on the couch in the front room. For a long time they sat on the steps in silence, drinking their milk. Hawkeye was caught in memories of his childhood, playing outside on nights like this, cicadas loud in the summer heat, crickets chirping, light breezes rustling the leaves on the big oak tree in the front yard…

"Hawkeye?"

"Hm?" he turned to find Kathy's inquisitive face peering up at him.

"Why are you called that?"

"Why am I called Hawkeye?" he clarified. She nodded, brow furrowed, deep in contemplation beyond her years. "Well," he sat back, "it isn't my real name. It's a nickname; sort of like how your name is really Katherine, but everyone calls you Kathy."

"My grandma calls me Katherine," she interrupted and he smiled indulgently.

"Yes, well… the name Hawkeye comes from a book my dad likes, called 'The Last of the Mohicans.' Hawkeye is a character in it. My real name though is Benjamin."

She looked deep in thought for a moment. "There's a boy in my class named Benjamin. But everyone calls him Benny."

"Except his grandmother, I bet."

"What?"

"Never mind," he grinned as Kathy yawned widely. "You could call me Benny if you'd like. Some of my friends called me that when I was your age."

"Alright," she yawned again.

He took the empty cup from her hands and set it on the stoop next to him. "Would you like to go back to bed?"

She shook her head. "I like listening to the crickets," she murmured softly, clearly tired. "We went camping once after daddy came back from being far away and I liked staying up and listening to the crickets chirp. They annoyed Becky, but I liked them," the last bit was said with the pride that only a younger sibling can have in winning some imagined contest with the older children.

"When I was around Becky's age, some friends used to come visit and we would set up a tent right in the back yard, near that creek we played in yesterday. We would pack some crackers, and get water from the stream, and pretend we were out in the wilderness on a big adventure," Hawkeye's voice dropped as he reminisced, realizing how much of the past three years of his life had been a big adventure; it wasn't so glorious as it was cracked up to be.

Moments later, Kathy clambered up into his lap, whether out of sleepiness or that innate sense some young children have of an adult being disquieted, Hawkeye was not sure. "Get some sleep," he murmured softly, even as her breathing already began to deepen, "I'll wake you if any big adventures come our way."

"Thanks… good night, Benny," she mumbled as she drifted slowly into unconsciousness, leaving Hawkeye alone with his thoughts.

Some minutes later, as he was beginning to contemplate getting the sleeping child in his arms back inside, he heard the door open behind him. Before he could turn, a low voice called out to him.

"That's a good look for you; ever consider getting one of your own?"

"Nah," he murmured softly as Trapper took up a seat in the same spot his daughter had recently vacated. "Just figured I'd borrow yours whenever I was feeling particularly paternal."

"Fine by me, but Louise might have something to say about it. Here," he reached over and gently lifted his daughter out of Hawkeye's tiring arms. She murmured something that sounded suspiciously like 'secret' and went back to sleep. "How's that?" Trapper smiled down at her.

"Sorry, we made a pact of silence. You and mommy aren't allowed to know of our late-night snack."

Trapper smiled wryly and stroked the top of Kathy's head. "I take it back- you have the makings of impish uncle instead. You know," he took a deep breath and looked around the darkened porch and yard, "I've lived in the city my whole life, but this is enough to make me reconsider. And I always thought you exaggerated your stories about this place."

"Finest kind," Hawkeye shook his head. "Best place for a kid to grow up- and in my dad's case, never leave even after growing up."

"And how about you?" Trapper asked seriously. "Going to spend your days making Crabapple Cove say 'ah'?"

Hawkeye was contemplative for a long time. "For now," he allowed. "But I'm not sure about the long run. I've seen too much, far more than most people here can understand. I don't know that this small town can contain me for too long."

Trapper leaned back and regarded his friend seriously. "You're doin' alright, aren't you, Hawk?"

"Yeah," Hawkeye waved off his concern, "never better. I admit, I've had my days, but…" he trailed away and stared up at the sky. "It's good to see you again," he finally managed. "And Louise and the girls… just like I always pictured 'em in your letters and your stories."

"Do you ever have nightmares?"

Hawkeye stiffened but nodded. "That's nothing new though. Just ask Sidney Freedman, I started cracking up a long time ago."

"I had nightmares for a while," Trapper said lowly. "It was hard- I didn't want Louise to worry. Some nights I would lie there for hours, listening to her sleeping, unable to sleep anymore myself because of some picture I'd gotten in my head and couldn't get rid of."

"What'd you do about them?"

"Nothing. They got better with time. I just avoided thinking, reading, and talking about Korea and eventually it was almost like it never even…" he trailed off and looked away. "So many times in my head, I saw Radar come into O.R. and tell us that there was a plane crash over the Sea of Japan- and sometimes it was Henry, sometimes it was you, or the Padre… but the worst dreams of all were when it was me. I was standing there operating and yelling at them that I was fine, but no one could see or hear me, and then I'd be drowning in a sea of darkness…"

"The first week I was home," Hawkeye said slowly, "I woke up screaming three or four nights. Dad came and calmed me down every night, no matter what time it was. And then he'd fall asleep in the chair by the bed, like he used to when I was just a kid. Especially right after mom died, he spent so many nights in that chair…" he passed a hand over his eyes and laughed shakily. "Anyway, I won't claim to be cured of the boogey men, but I've learned my own limits, and know that some nights, I just need to wind down a little more before sleeping."

"Like tonight?"

He inclined his head in acknowledgement. "No rhyme or reason, just an overactive thought process, fixed with the childhood remedy of a big glass of chocolate milk. Oh," he looked ruefully at Kathy, "I guess I just ruined the secret."

"We just won't tell mommy then," Trapper laughed. "Come on," he stood and hoisted the girl with him. "Time for bed again."

They got her settled on the small sofa next to Becky's couch and headed up the stairs. They were about to part at the guest room where Trapper and his wife were sleeping when Daniel emerged from his room. He summoned the two over to him.

"You might want to listen to this, boys," he led them into Hawkeye's room and switched on the radio by the bed, tuning it and turning the volume up slightly. Static crackled for a few seconds before words emerged, crisp and clear.

"…signed in Panmunjon at ten a.m., local time. Again, the ceasefire will go into effect at ten p.m., giving these last hours to gain as much territory as possible. Ten p.m. in Korea, or eight a.m. Washington D.C. time, on July twenty-seventh will mark the end of this long police action. We'll have more figures for you soon, but right now…"

Hawkeye and Trapper stared at one another for several seconds.

"You mean… when we wake up tomorrow, the fighting will be done?" Trapper said tentatively. "For good?" Daniel nodded. "Wow. Peace. The real thing."

"They plan to have all personnel home or en route within a week," Daniel said. "All future correspondence can be postmarked U.S. of A.," he pointed out to Hawkeye. "Your next letter to B.J. will be with a Mill Valley address on it."

The word peace kept ringing in Hawkeye's ears. Could it really be, only three months after he'd escaped Korea, that the whole war was coming to a close?

"I want to call the four-oh-seven-seven," he said suddenly, almost automatically. His dad shook his head sadly.

"Not a good idea, based on what the radio was saying- I guess since the armistice was signed, the fighting has intensified, as everyone is determined to do as much damage before ten p.m. Not to mention, everyone there is probably wanting to call here and tell their folks they're coming home, I doubt you'd get a line through. Maybe a telegram though?"

He considered that but ultimately decided to wait until morning; if things were as busy for the unit as his dad suggested they might be, it wouldn't matter if he waited a few more hours.

Peace. At last.

THE END

A/N: Thanks for reading, and I'd love to hear your thoughts ;-)