A/N: I've become strangely obsessed with M*A*S*H lately. This is nothing much, just a drabble. I'm going to rewatch the whole series just as soon as my DVDs arrive in the mail. Maybe then I'll attempt something more ambitious.

Unsaid

"So, ah, listen," he begins, unable to look at her, instead watching his feet shuffle through the ubiquitous Korean dust.

(You've become more important to me than you'll ever know. I just wish to hell I could find the words to explain it to you.)

"Yeah," she agrees, her eyes stinging, her voice hoarse with emotion.

(I do know. You and me, we've never needed the words. They would have only gotten in the way.)

Without conscious thought, without decision or permission, they're in each others' arms, communicating in the way they've always been best at it: wordlessly.

(I love you, Hawkeye. I've loved you forever.)

(I love you too. And I hate myself. I'm an idiot for not holding on to you when I had the chance.)

(No. You were right. We're too different. We would only have ended up destroying each other. It's better this way.)

(Is it though?)

(Maybe. Maybe not. But it's too late now for second guessing. Goodbye Hawkeye.)

(Goodbye Margaret. Thank you for making hell just a little easier to endure. Be happy.)

After what seems like a lifetime, after what, in many ways, was their lifetime, they retreat.

"Well, so long," he says, trying to force a modicum of cheer he doesn't feel into his voice.

(I'll miss you.)

"See ya," she replies, keeping her words short, a necessity for maintaining her composure.

(I'll never forget you.)