DISCLAMER: I don't own MASH and all that malarkey…

"We need more sponges!"

"Suction, doctor?"

"Ready to close."

It was four-thirty in the afternoon, and the doctors and nurses of the 4077th were, as always, in surgery. Casualties started coming early in the morning, and hadn't stopped since. Everyone was exhausted.

"Klinger, where are those sponges!"

Margaret had been in a bad mood all day; and she certainly didn't need any more stress.

"We've got more casualties coming in! Sorry for the sponge delay, Major."

"Just make sure it doesn't happen again, Corporal."

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Margaret, what's with you?"

Hawkeye had been very worried about Margaret lately. She didn't seem like herself. He knew she was a crabby person; but lately she hardly talked to anyone, and when she did, she was yelling.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"It's just that you seem…"

"I'm fine! You should be focusing on your patient the way you're prying in on my life!"

"I'm sorry, Margaret."

Hawkeye didn't know what was going on with her; but he knew he had to find out….

Finally, the long and brutal surgery session was over. Hawkeye, Margaret, Trapper and Colonel Blake were changing in the scrub room. Margaret changed as fast as she could and quickly left.

"Does anybody know what's going on with her?"

"What do you mean?"

"You mean you haven't noticed a change in her, Trapper?"

"No, not really."

"Well, something's going on and I want to know what it is."

Hawkeye quickly put on his shirt and headed to Margaret's tent. He kept wondering what the matter with her was. "Is she having a bad day? No, this has been going on for a while. Maybe she's just sick of the Army. It can't be; Margaret likes the Army. What is it?"

Hawkeye was about to knock on her door when he heard her crying. It was more like sobbing. He knocked on the door, still wondering what was going on.

"Margaret, it's Hawkeye. Can I come in?"

"Leave me alone."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Please go away."

"Well…if you need to talk… I'm here."

She didn't answer.

"Hey, Hawk!"

"Hi, Trapper."

"What did you mean in the scrub room?"

"Trapper, something's going on with her. She stays in her tent all the time, doesn't talk to anyone, and she's…crying."

"Hawk, why are you so worried about her? She's probably having a rough day. Are you coming to the Swamp?"

"Yeah, I guess."

Hawkeye and Trapper walked back to the Swamp. "No wonder she's crying. Nobody cares about her. Well I do; and I'm going to find out what's wrong…."

Margaret locked her door. All she did was cry. She couldn't stop. She didn't have any tears left but she was still crying. She needed a way to release her pain and anger. Something she had done before; and it helped her. Most people drink to forget; but it didn't help her. Getting drunk then sobering up and realizing your life is still a disaster didn't seem like a good way to release pain. So she did it another way. She searched through her drawers; finding a hairbrush, some tubes of lipstick, and…a razor. She rolled up her sleeve, put the razor in her hand, and lightly ran it across her arm. She watched herself bleed for a few moments. She made three more marks on her arm; this time cutting harder. She looked at her arm and cried…

Dinner time came soon enough. Hawkeye was sitting at a table with Trapper and Colonel Blake. He thought this would be a good time to talk to Margaret. He saw her and Frank walk in. She sat down at the table next to Hawkeye's and laid her head down while Frank got dinner.

"Margaret, what's the matter?"

She put her head up; her eyes were puffy and red.

"I'm fine. I'm just…tired."

"Look, if you need to talk…"

"I don't. Now please, I'd like to be alone."

As Hawkeye went back to his table, Frank came back with two trays.

"Here you go."

"Frank, I can't eat. I'm sick to my stomach over this."

"Well, it's here if you want it. I also got you some water."

"Thanks, Frank. I just don't know what I'm going to do. I mean, I thought I wouldn't start doing this again."

"Have you done it today?"

"Yeah, after surgery. Frank…I'm scared."

Tears streamed down her face and Frank held her close. He was afraid for her, too. He comforted her for a few minutes; then she went back to her tent. Hawkeye was confused now more than ever.

"What the hell is wrong!"

"Not Margaret again."

"Yes Margaret again. I can't believe you're so uncaring about her!"

Frank heard Hawkeye yelling about Margaret and sat next to him.

"Hawkeye, she's hurting. Don't bother her."

"Frank, what's wrong with her?"

"She's in pain and…she's going through something right now that's scaring her."

"What is it?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Just leave her alone."

Hawkeye could see Frank was about to cry. Obviously Frank cared for her. Even though their romance didn't last, they were best friends. Whatever Margaret was going through, Frank was being affected, too.

"Frank I care about Margaret and I want to help her. Please tell me what's going on."

"I can't. I think she'll be able to overcome what she's going through. But for now, she should be left alone…."

It was now nine at night. Trapper and Frank were on their way to the movie, Bonzo Goes to Ethiopia. Hawkeye wanted to try one more time to talk to Margaret. He just had to know. He wanted to help her.

"Margaret, can I please come in?"

"Hawkeye…"

"Margaret, please. I want to talk to you."

"Come in."

She opened the door and he walked in. She was in her pink robe; and there were a pile of tissues on her bed.

"Margaret, what's going on with you? You're crying all the time, you're not eating, and you stay in your tent all the time…what's wrong?"

"Hawkeye, I'm in a lot of pain."

"Margaret, everyone is. This place stinks."

"You don't understand. I'm tired of being lonely."

"Lonely?"

"The things I want most I don't have. None of my relationships have worked out, I'm sick of my job and this damn war, and I…just don't know if I have anything good ahead of me."

"Margaret, I feel the same way sometimes."

"It's not the same! You don't' understand. No one does. Worse than that, no one wants to listen. You and Trapper have your own little world, and the nurses think I'm nothing but a bitch. They hate me because all I do is yell at them. I really don't mean to; but it comes out that way and they hate me for it."

"So that's why you've been crying all the time. You feel guilty."

"Guilty about everything wrong that happens in my life."

"Margaret, not everything is your fault. You can't blame yourself."

"You don't understand…I'm just in a lot of pain."

She tugged at her sleeve and started to cry again.

"Margaret, I talked to Frank. He told me you were scared about something."

"Frank told you about me?"

"Well, no. He hardly said anything; except you were going through something. What's going on, Margaret."

"I told you, I'm in a lot of pain."

She tugged at her sleeve again.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

"What?"

"Playing with your sleeve. Is there something wrong with it?"

"Why would you ask me that? There's nothing wrong!"

"Margaret, are trying to hide something on you arm?"

"You're not looking at my arm! There's nothing wrong with it!"

Hawkeye realized what she was doing; and his heart sank.

"Margaret are you…cutting yourself?"

Margaret cried harder. She looked at him with a sad and hopeless face.

"Yes."

He looked at her with sadness.

"How long has this been going on?"

"About a week. I did it a few months ago. I didn't think I'd do it again but…I did."

"That's why you were stressed in O.R., and you didn't have an appetite today."

"Yeah."

"Margaret…you can't be doing this. I'll be there for you every step of the way… but you need help."

"How can someone help me when no one understands?"

A/N: Okay, guys? How do you like it? Good? Bad? Please Review!