"I am at my wit's end with this kid, Beej. I don't know what to do. I'm totally out of my depth."
"Well, admitting it is the first step," BJ Hunnicut said, grinning at his best friend. "Come on Hawk, it can't be that bad. Maggie's a great kid."
"She's a great kid, yeah. Amazing kid. The best kid ever. She's also exactly like her mother," Hawkeye said, sighing. "And that was fine when her mother was around to handle her and I could just be the good guy, you know? The fun one, fun Papa, the one she went to when Mommy wouldn't let her have candy or watch a scary movie. But now..."
"Now you have to play good cop and bad cop."
"Exactly. And instead of doing one really well I'm doing a lousy job of both." Hawkeye shook his head. "I don't know, Beej. I just wish Margaret was here. She always knew what to do. Maggie listened to her mother. When Margaret said no, she meant it. When I say no, the kid laughs in my face."
"She was a heck of a woman, Hawk," BJ said. "But you're a wonderful father, you know you are. Everyone else sees it. Maggie loves you. You just need to be a little firmer with her, that's all," BJ said, refilling their martini glasses.
"I don't know how! I try, but she doesn't listen. It's impossible." Hawkeye shifted in his chair and took a long drink. This had become their Friday night ritual since he finally convinced BJ to make the move north and bring his family to Maine. Hawkeye liked it a lot – sometimes it even felt like old times, only without the death and most of the despair. Friday night martinis and sympathy.
"Teenagers are hard," BJ said, chuckling. "When Erin was 14 I barely made it through the year without going bald. You just have to learn how to say no. I know you've wanted to give her everything she wants since her mother died, but you just can't. You need to say no sometimes."
Hawkeye shook his head. "Easier said than done."
"It's hard, I get that. Margaret only passed away a year ago. Just give it time – it's a big adjustment. Maggie will come around. Trust me."
The front door slammed. BJ and Hawkeye looked around as 14-year-old Maggie Pierce sauntered into the living room where her dad and Uncle BJ were enjoying their traditional Friday night martinis.
"Papa bear," she said by way of greeting, kissing Hawkeye on the head as she walked by. He took a brief hold of her hand and squeezed it affectionately. "Hi BJ," she added, as her father's best friend stood to give her a hug.
"Hey kiddo, how's life?" he said, as always.
"Still livin' it," Maggie said, her usual response. She headed straight to the tray of drinks on the mantel and poured herself the small amount of leftover gin from her father's cocktail shaker, downing it in one. BJ raised an eyebrow at Hawkeye, who sighed resignedly.
"Papa, I'm going away with Ellen Thomas for the weekend. She and her parents are coming to get me in the morning."
Maggie moved over to where Hawkeye sat and perched herself on the arm of his chair. "We're going to Boston, isn't that great? I probably won't be back in time for school on Monday."
With that announcement, Maggie tousled her father's hair and left the room. Her footsteps sounded on the staircase. BJ looked meaningfully at Hawkeye, who nodded and squeezed the bridge of his nose, preparing for World War III. He breathed deeply.
"No, Maggie."
The footsteps stopped. There was a pause.
"Did you say something, Pop?"
BJ stood up and gathered his things in a hurry. "Well, I'd best be going. See you later, Maggie," he said, adding in a whisper to Hawkeye, "Good luck."
The front door closed in BJ's wake.
"Maggie," Hawkeye called. "Would you come back here, please?"
No response.
"Maggie, honey?"
No sound. There were still no footsteps on the stairs. Maggie was waiting, trying to figure out her next move. Hawkeye knew he needed to take control of the situation before she did.
"Margaret Louise Pierce! Get down here right now. I'll count to three. One... two..."
She was back in the room before he got to three, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes narrowed meanly.
"What?" she snapped. Hawkeye groaned inwardly. She sounded just like her mother.
"Sit down, Maggie," he said, gesturing to the chair across from him. She sat, looking suspiciously over at him.
"Listen," he began. "You're not going away with Ellen Thomas. You're going to stay home this weekend, and you're going to school on Monday."
Maggie opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off.
"And you're not going out with Logan Jones on school nights anymore. In fact, you're not going out with Logan Jones at all anymore. Your mother and I always said we wouldn't let you date boys until you were seventeen, and I'm going to stick to that from now on. Got it?"
Maggie smouldered quietly in her chair. She looked just like her mother did when she was working herself up into a rage. Hawkeye had to remind himself that he was the one in charge. He went on, undaunted.
"No more coming home late from school. I want you in this house at 3:30 on the dot every day. On days when I work late at the hospital, you will be at my office at 3:30 on the dot, you'll do your homework until I finish work and then we'll go home together."
"Hawkeye!" she protested. "This is insane!"
Hawkeye pointed a finger at her. "And no more calling me Hawkeye when you're mad. It's Dad, Daddy or Papa, you got that?" He waited for a response. "Huh?"
Maggie slumped back in her chair and glowered. "Yes, Papa."
"And I know you've been smoking with your friends. You think I can't smell it when I do your laundry? That's going to stop as well, you understand me?"
"Yes, Papa," she said sullenly.
"And if I catch you drinking liquor again, I'm shipping you off to a Siberian convent. Comprende?"
"Oh so you're allowed to drink yourself into a stupor every Friday night but I can't have a tiny bit of gin? That's real fair, Hawkeye."
Hawkeye glared at her for a moment without saying anything. "You wanna try that response again?"
They sat like that for a long time, each one trying to out-stare the other. Finally she gave in. "Yes, Papa."
"Good," he said, nodding. That was easier than he thought it would be. "Great. Okay. I'm glad we've sorted this out."
Maggie rolled her eyes and shook her head. "This is ridiculous," she muttered underneath her breath, slumping back in her chair.
"Hey," he said quietly, nudging her foot with his own. "Kiddo."
She refused to look at him.
"Look, Mags. I don't wanna be the bad cop, I really don't," he said quietly. "But I'm your dad, right? I have to do what's best for you."
She rolled her eyes again. "How would you know what's best for me?"
"I'm your father," he said again. "And kid, I'm all you've got. Don't forget that."
Maggie looked at him sharply then, and her face crumpled. She lowered her face into her hands and sobbed. Hawkeye immediately felt awful.
"Oh, hey, hey," he said, moving to sit next to her on the sofa. "I didn't mean it like... I just meant..."
"You meant that my mother is dead, Hawkeye, like I needed reminding," Maggie sobbed. "I know she's dead! Do you think I've forgotten that? Do you think I don't care?"
"No, of course I-"
She brushed off the hand he'd placed on her shoulder and stood up, turning to face him.
"You think I don't feel anything. You think I don't miss her as much as you do. I loved her too, Hawkeye! She was my mother, for Christ's sake!"
Hawkeye rubbed his face, as he usually did when he felt distressed. How had this conversation taken such a wrong turn? "Maggie, no, you've got this all wrong. I know you loved her."
"Just not as much as you, right?" Maggie said, sneering at him. "My relationship with Mom was never important as yours. 'Cause her and I never fought a war together. Right, Captain? Well, don't worry Papa. You'll always have Korea. You'll always have the most of her. You'll always have the best of her."
Hawkeye shook his head sadly. He had no idea that this is what his daughter had felt. How long had she been bottling this up? Since Margaret's death? Before?
"Please, Maggie, listen to me," he said, standing up. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, willing her to see the truth and to believe him. "I don't think any of those things. I don't. And it's not true, you have so much of her."
Maggie sniffed, shaking her head and looking away from him. "I hear you talking to BJ, and to everyone else at your stupid reunions every six months. Do you think I'm an idiot?"
Hawkeye shook his head despairingly. He didn't know what to say, couldn't even figure out how to begin.
"You had this whole other life with her, a whole other universe that I'll never be a part of," she continued, tears running freely down her cheeks, her mouth twisted with sorrow. She gasped for breath with every few words. "That I'll never understand because you don't let me understand it. You never tell me about it, but then you see BJ and Sherman and Radar and all these other people who aren't even related to you, aren't related to her, and I hear you talking about how Mom used to do this and Mom used to do that, and remember that time you and she stayed behind to help a patient while everyone else bugged out, and remember that time you put a dummy in her closet, and remember this and that and the other. Why don't you ever tell me about those things? Huh? Why do I have to eavesdrop at your stupid war reunions just to learn something about my own mother? Don't I count, Hawkeye? Don't I matter to you as much as they do?"
Hawkeye immediately grabbed his daughter and wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tight as he could. He didn't have any words, and for a long time they just stood like that, both of them crying and thinking about the woman they loved, the woman whose life they shared between them. Eventually Hawkeye was calm enough to speak, but he didn't let go.
"You matter to me more than any other person on this planet," he said, his voice shaking a little. "You matter more than everybody else combined. You matter to me more than anything that came before you, and anything that's come since. You are the one and only thing that matters to me in this whole damn world. You got that?"
He pulled back then, holding her shoulders at arm's length. He took hold of her chin and tilted it upwards, forcing her to look him in the eye.
"You got that, Maggie Pierce?"
She sniffed and nodded, fresh tears prickling in her eyes. "Got it."
"Good. Don't you ever forget it," he said, and kissed her forehead fiercely. He took her hand in his and they slumped down on the sofa again. "Mags, I'm so sorry. I didn't realise I was shutting you out. I never meant to keep that part of my life and your mom's life from you. I honestly didn't realise that was what I was doing. Do you believe me?"
Maggie watched her father carefully for a moment, studying his face as she always did when she tried to figure out if he was playing a practical joke or lying to her. She looked into his bright blue eyes, the ones she'd inherited, and knew he was telling the truth. "I believe you."
"I think... I think I was trying to protect you, in my own stupid way. Some good things came out of that war – my marriage to your mother being one of them – but sweetheart, it was a horrible place, a horrible time, a horrible way to live and for a lot of people, a horrible way to die. There are a lot of things I've just had to block out, because they're too terrible to contemplate. I guess I thought you'd find it hard to understand, or maybe... maybe I was really just afraid that you'd understand it perfectly. Does that make sense?"
"Kind of. Not really."
Hawkeye laughed. "No, I guess it doesn't. Look kiddo, I'm sorry. I'll never shut you out like that again. I'll answer any of your questions. I'll tell you any stories you want to hear. Within reason," he added, grinning. There was a familiar twinkle in his eye, one that Maggie hadn't seen much since her mother passed away. She'd waited a whole year to see that twinkle, to see a bit of the father she remembered, and she'd started to worry it would never happen again.
"Papa," she said seriously. "Are you ever going to be really happy again?"
Hawkeye considered her question for a long moment, staring into the space between them. Finally he looked her in the eye and spoke.
"You make me happy," he said simply. "I sort of love you, you know."
Maggie grinned. "I sort of love you too."