AN: Here's chapter 1 of my new fic. I decided to do something a little different. I'm an oddity among Hawkeye/Margaret shippers in that really, very much do not like Comrades in Arms. To me it's clumsy, largely out of character (even if you squint), lacks any sort of tension and is an awkward trope fest. So I decided to re-write the entire thing through a lens that I feel is a a little more true to character and situation. Don't worry, though, if you like CiA, you'll probably like this.
The plot shares a lot of the same basic framework as the episode, and there are little call-backs here and there.
Don't panic if something doesn't happen *exactly* as in canon, because that's kind of the whole point ;) They do end up getting together in my version, but there'll be an author's note at the end explaining how I would've handled a more true to canon version where they decided not to. I'm hoping to update once a month until it's done. Hope you enjoy!
This morning's breakfast was grey, or was it brown, or was it grey-brown? Hawkeye skewered a lump with his fork and gave it a tentative sniff, wrinkling his nose at the smell, all the while studiously ignoring the look of disgust BJ was shooting him from across the table. His fork was still hovering in front of his face when he noticed Colonel Potter walking purposefully towards them. The war never stopped. Not even for a substandard meal.
The Colonel eyed the pair shrewdly before his eyes settled on Hawkeye. "I need a volunteer, and by volunteer I mean you, Pierce."
Hawkeye put down his still-laden fork with a grimace. "How lucky for me. What am I volunteering for?"
"The 8063rd have heard about our arterial transplant method, and they wanna know how to do it. Seeing as you were the surgeon taught to do it by Dr Borelli, I thought I'd send you."
Hawkeye sighed, not at all enthused. "Great. I get to have all the fun."
"Pick a nurse to go with you."
At this he he sat up a little straighter. "I really do get to have all the fun," he said, standing up to get a better view of the nurses eating their breakfast.
"Now Pierceā¦" Potter cautioned, aware of his angle.
Margaret, who was having her tray loaded with food, narrowed her eyes the still-standing Hawkeye as she tried to figure out what he was doing. When she noticed the direction of his gaze she rolled her eyes, striding over to him. "Pierce, what are you doing?"
"Choosing a lovely assistant to take with me on a lovely holiday. The Colonel here is sending myself and a lovely lady on an all expenses trip to the 8063rd to teach them about legs and arteries."
"I'll be going with you."
"Now Margaret, I knew you were a fan, but I didn't know you-"
Her face clearly showed her disapproval. "I was the one who assisted so I will be the one to go with you."
"She does have a point, Pierce."
"But nurse Bell and I were going to have so much fun together."
Margaret shot him a filthy look while the Colonel ignored him. "You and Major Houlihan will leave at 0800 tomorrow morning."
As Margaret uttered her assent and moved to another table, the Colonel left the tent.
Hawkeye sat back down and picked up his fork again. "Now, where was I?"
BJ, meanwhile, was grinning smugly at Hawkeye from across the table. "Well that'll be fun for you."
"How about you go with her and I stay here?"
"Not a chance."
The next morning Hawkeye exited The Swamp approximately two minutes before they were meant to leave. He'd put no effort into his appearance, and was wearing his dirty fatigues from the day before. It wasn't as though he'd be getting lucky on this trip, and the army wasn't going to be getting any extra effort from him this morning.
Colonel Potter was overseeing some men packing supplies into the jeep. "Load those peaches in! Ah, Pierce. I want you to see if you can trade some of these tins for some of the supplies we need. Make sure you get the goods. These aren't the usual fare, they're big halved peaches. Got some sulfa tablets in there, too - we have far too many of those."
"Fine, Colonel."
The men turned as Margaret came marching towards them, her demeanour cool and businesslike as always.
"Ah, morning, Major."
"Colonel," she acknowledged, before turning to Hawkeye, eying him with suspicion. "Ready to go, Captain?"
He met her gaze with mock affront. "What are you talking about? Of course I am."
There was no of course about it and he knew it. Margaret narrowed her eyes at him in a way that told him that this was a fact of which she was also well aware.
She didn't relish the fact that she was going on this trip, but she wasn't about to subject any of her nurses to either the danger of travel in these parts or Hawkeye Pierce, voluntarily or otherwise.
She cast a look of disdain at a stain on his uniform but said nothing. She knew well enough by now that there was no point. He was a skilled surgeon, and a decent human being when all said and done, but he was never going to show any care for the army.
Klinger approached them with a flourish. "Mail for you, sirs. Well, for Major Houlihan."
Hawkeye smirked. "Ahh, Klinger. Where's Radar this morning?"
Klinger put his hand up to shield his mouth and stage whispered. "He, uh, didn't want to give this letter to Major Houlihan."
"Who's it from?"
"Her Colonel Penobscot."
Margaret leapt forward. "Give me that!"
"Yes, Major Houlihan, sir!" Klinger said as he handed it to her theatrically.
Margaret tore the letter open before noticing that Klinger was still standing near her. "Do you mind!"
"Sorry, Major," Klinger then turned to Hawkeye, "Apparently it's a doozy," he said before wandering back off to wherever Radar was hiding.
"Really!" Margaret huffed before turning her attention back to her letter.
Hawkeye watched carefully as she read, waiting for any sort of reaction. It wasn't long before her face blanched to white. "Everything alright at home?"
Her head snapped up, eyes flashing. "Oh go soak your head!" she snapped before climbing into the jeep with a whump.
"Just as I thought," Hawkeye mocked before doing the same. "Shall we?" He said, turning to Margaret in mock askance.
"Just drive, will you!"
For the first mile they drove, Margaret was completely silent. Hawkeye had tried singing obnoxiously loud opera, and telling the worst jokes he could think of, but
Margaret remained stony. There'd been no snapping, no rebukes, no scathing remarks about how un-military he was, nothing. That letter really had been a doozy if it had gotten to her this badly. He figured he may as well attempt a more conventional way of breaking the silence.
"That must have been some letter."
Margaret whipped around to face him, incensed. "Excuse me? What Donald and I write to each other is none of your business! It was a perfectly normal letter."
"He's not dying, is he?."
"Drop it, and that's an order!"
"Ahh, so there is something."
It was hard to miss the flash of pain in her eyes or the chink in her armour before she whipped her head in the other direction.
Margaret held her breath in a bid to regain control as their jeep bounced around the potholes in the road. She wouldn't allow him to get to her, and Donald could wait until she got back to camp. Her heart could wait until after the war. There was no time for weakness.
Without warning, the road in front of them exploded. Dust and dirt went everywhere as the noise reverberated in the hills around them.
Hawkeye started to panic. As much as he hated the war, he hated this part more than the others. He'd been kind of hoping to make it home alive. "What should I do, should I turn around?"
"No, keep driving! What sort of moron tries to turn around when they're being shelled!"
"How about a scared moron?"
"You'll make yourself a target for longer, now go!"
"I am going!"
"Faster!"
"I'm trying! I'm also trying not to drive us off that cliff over there!"
Another shell went off, this time behind them. Margaret screamed as it rocked their jeep, showering them with dust. She'd always hated loud noises, hated them, and this was the worst kind of loud noise: the kind that could actually kill them. Hawkeye put his foot down even harder, silently praying that they'd be out of range soon. A third shell exploded, behind them. Hawkeye gritted his teeth, and Margaret's face was as white as her knuckles as she held on for dear life.
"I think we're losing them!" Hawkeye yelled without taking his eyes off the road."
"Thank god!" she yelled back, her voice tight, and her attention focussed determinedly ahead.
When they eventually arrived at the 8063rd they were greeted by naked tent frames and an eerie silence.
Hawkeye slowed the jeep to a stop so that he could process the scene before them. He sat for a moment, squinting at what was left of the latrines. "They bugged out. They bugged and didn't tell us!"
Margaret's lips pressed together in a thin line, her unease growing as the reality of their situation dawned on her. "We're in enemy territory. We've got to get out of here! Now!"
Hawkeye didn't need to be told twice. He stepped on the gas pedal and quickly turned them around, before hurtling out of the skeletal remains of the 8063rd.
Neither of them looked at each other or said anything, but a sense of foreboding trickled over them. There would be no relief until they were safely back at camp.
Nausea welled up inside Margaret as she thought about all the ways their day could get horribly worse. She almost hoped that if they were at any point cornered by the enemy, they killed her instead of taking her prisoner.
She'd heard stories. Unspeakably terrible stories from this war and the last, and she didn't want to have to live with what the enemy would likely do to her - if they let her live once they were done.
Hawkeye broke the silence, as if sensing the mood. "It's okay, Margaret, we'll make it."
"Of course we will!" Margaret exclaimed, voice shrill and indignant before falling into a tense silence, but neither of them were convinced.
It was too hard to see past all the horrible possibilities that lay before them.
They drove on in silence as the scenery flew past, hoping desperately hoping for some sign that they were entering friendly territory but none came. They'd only gone about a mile when the jeep's engine started to cut out.
"Ohhhh no. No no nonono." Hawkeye yelled as it juddered to a halt. "Don't they ever service these things?"
Margaret ignored him, they didn't have time for yelling, the enemy could find them at any moment. Instead she leapt from the vehicle and started wrestling with the hood of the jeep. "Don't suppose you know anything about engines?" she called up at Hawkeye, still sitting in the driver's seat.
"Uh, I think I saw one once." he replied as he got out of the jeep to join her. He helped her lift the heavy, metal hood, holding it as she peered into the engine bay. "You?"
Margaret shook her head in response. "Not a thing."
"Oh well, it's kind of like a big, metal human body, how hard can it be?"
They both stared at the mess of wires, tubes and metal before them, unable to decide where to begin.
Hawkeye rolled up his sleeves and began to rummage around, but Margaret could hear voices.
She put her hand on Hawkeye's arm, stilling his motion so that he could hear them too. He swore. "Let's get out of here!"
The voices were fast approaching, and they weren't speaking English.
"Quick, hide!" Margaret hissed.
Hawkeye grabbed his medical bag from the jeep before running to the long grass at the side of the road. Margaret was about to throw herself into it when Hawkeye stopped her. "No, wait, up here further. Away from the jeep." Before she'd had a chance to respond he grabbed her by the hand, pulling her along with him to further up the road. She gave him a small nod before they both lunged into the tangled scrub in front of them, crawling in deeper, and flattening themselves into the ground.
Hawkeye winced as a thorn punctured his leg. He didn't dare move. Hell, he didn't dare breathe. The slightest movement would risk rustling, and rustling would surely mean discovery.
The voices grew louder still, and soon was accompanied by what sounded like the footfalls of a small group of men.
Sure enough, they were North Korean soldiers. Four yelled with excitement when they saw the jeep, pointing excitedly at the supplies, while the fifth one, obviously their leader looked on, a little more wary. He checked to see whether the engine was still warm. Finding that it was, he gestured sharply for the others to be quiet. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the scenery, but he saw nothing. Not satisfied that the coast was clear, he barked an order at his men, who then began to search the area immediately surrounding the jeep.
He watched his men spread out before choosing his own patch to search.
He started walking towards where they were hiding, thrusting his gun into the long grass as he went, parting it to check for rogue Americans.
Margaret closed her eyes and willed her heart to stop thumping so loudly. He was getting closer and closer, and she was so sure that second now there would be a yell and strong sets of hands hauling them out of the bushes. This whole situation had elements of the surreal, and yet was totally serious.
Hawkeye was trembling, and he didn't seem to be able to stop. The thorn was still stuck in his leg, and he was worried his bladder might let go, or his bowels, or both. All this was aside from the fact that there was an enemy soldier rapidly closing the distance between himself and their hiding place.
He was beginning to regret letting go of Margaret's hand when they dove for cover, because it would have felt like reassurance, and he'd take all the reassurance he could get right now.
The soldier was mere yards away when he stopped again, the grass nearby was parted with his gun. Another few steps and they'd be discovered.
He stepped closer again before he paused, looking around from where he was standing. He then gave a loud sniff, his heel grinding the dirt as he turned and walked back to his comrades.
Margaret let out a shaky, carefully controlled breath before turning her head to look at Hawkeye, who met her eyes with his own wide and fearful ones. She didn't think she'd ever seen him simply afraid before, without his protective coating of humour.
Things had gotten a little too real, and it was hard to joke when you couldn't move or open your mouth.
She blinked once, straining her ears as she tried to figure out what the men might do next. They were talking and laughing and chattering away about something.
The jeep hiccoughed as they obviously tried to start it, followed by some clunking and four distinct thuds. They were stripping the jeep.
Hawkeye turned his head and met her eyes once more, clearly thinking the same thing she was: They weren't getting out of here any time soon.
