Hi guys! Thanks so much for the reviews and story alert emails that I got! It was so nice to know that people like it! I'd really appreciate it if everyone who reads/favorites the story would leave a review. Hearing the readers' thoughts and opinions is the best part for the author! Also, just so no one is confused, I'm resubmitting the content in chapter one because I found a few mistakes. So, if you get a new chapter content alert for chapter one, that's why. Also, I'm editing the title to "The Best Care Anywhere". That was the original title, but something happened and I put the wrong title in. Whoops. Finally, A MILLION thanks to my beta reader Ladyhawke Legend. She's a very busy lady, but still finds time to beta my stories and make them SO much better! She rocks my socks!

Mulcahy felt Emily go very still next to him. Her concentration was so intense that even the shaking, which had seemed uncontrollable, stopped for a split second. A moment later, she was shaking again, and Mulcahy realized that she had no control over it. It was likely nerves or shock. He had intended to pull her closer to him, to tell her quietly that God was watching over them always, but she had squirmed out of his grip before he could.

She was beside BJ and Kyung Mi in an instant. Her friend's face was pale and slack. She wasn't moving. Since there wasn't a second nurse, Emily moved in to help. "I can help!" she said frantically. "Just show me what to do!"

BJ nodded. Allowing Emily to help care for her friends would likely be the best thing for her mentally. She would be helping with their healing, a task that was likely to improve her own spirits as well.

"When I tell you to," he said, "press regularly up and down on her chest – here." He pointed to right over Kyung Mi's heart. "Put your hands like this." He demonstrated, putting one hand over the other in something resembling an "x". She nodded, and BJ scooted up to Kyung Mi's head. He put his mouth over hers and began breathing in and out for her, forcing breath into her lungs. He didn't move from his crouched position, but instead gestured that she should do what he had told her. She pressed up and down on Kyung Mi's chest. She kept going until BJ gestured again that she should stop. He bent farther forward once again and gave two more breaths to Kyung Mi.

He was about to gesture to Emily that she should begin more compressions when there was a slight movement, and then a shuddering gasp from Kyung Mi. He looked at her chest, relieved to see its rise and fall. He felt for her pulse and was relieved to find it, steady if not somewhat weak. He looked back at Emily. She looked on the verge of either throwing up or crying. He couldn't tell which.

Next to the two of them, Hawkeye and Margaret seemed to have stabilized Chang Hee. His shoulder joint was swollen, but Emily had indeed managed to properly rotate it back into joint. It would be sore and stiff, and he'd need a sling for awhile to be sure that it didn't dislocate again while the weakened muscles regained their strength. He had a stomach wound that Emily hadn't mentioned. Hawkeye had distinctly heard her saying something how she had "stopped the bleeding", but he had assumed that it had been in conjunction with the dislocation of the shoulder. There was a fair deal of shrapnel in the wound, but Hawkeye had been able to remove most of it. The Korean boy was stable – for now. Though it was likely that he would go into shock – if he wasn't in shock already – if they couldn't get him back to OR soon.

Margaret was an excellent nurse and they were doing well, but the conditions were far from ideal. The site was so far from ideal that it was laughable. The two were ready to move Chang Hee to the jeep. Now, all they needed was the stretcher. Looking over at BJ, he took in the fact that his patient also seemed stable and noticed the direction of BJ's gaze. He was looking at Emily, who looked just about as awful as Chang Hee and Kyung Mi.

Hawkeye stood, told Margaret that he would get the stretcher and be right back, and walked over to Emily. Perhaps being given something to do would help to pull her out of her stupor. He knelt next to her. "Emily, your friends are going to be fine." He smiled kindly, playing well the act of the bald-faced liar. While her friends were stable for the moment, he had no idea whether either one of them would survive the bodily shock of taking the potholed road back to the 4077th. "They're doing well, but we've got to get them back to the 4077th. We need to get the stretchers. Will you help me?" He spoke quietly and calmly, clearly seeing that she was rattled.

She nodded, and he hooked his hands under her arm, helping her to her feet. She waivered on her feet unsteadily, but he was there, supporting her from behind. She took several steadying breaths and then pulled carefully away from Hawkeye.

She turned and walked back toward the jeeps and Hawkeye followed. BJ and Margaret exchanged worried looks. Hawkeye came up next to her and put an encouraging hand on her shoulder. "You did well back there," he said quietly.

She nodded once, acknowledging his compliment, but she neither broke her stride nor said anything. They reached jeeps and Hawkeye paused for a moment. He grabbed Emily's arm and pulled her around so that she was facing him. There was such a flurry of emotion on her face for a split second that Hawkeye wondered how she could tolerate it all. Then, as quickly as it was there, it was gone – replaced with a careful mask of neutrality and stoicism. Hawkeye knew it was a defense mechanism. But with the situation being so dire, this was neither the time nor the place to discuss her feelings.

He instructed her to take the far end of the stretcher. She did so, and they carried it over to the other. By stacking one on top of the other, they could get both stretchers back to the trees twice as fast. They weren't really heavy, but Hawkeye worried that Emily wouldn't have the strength remaining to carry them. However, she carried her share of the load with apparent ease.

As they walked, she spoke so quietly that Hawkeye almost missed it. "Thank you for…you know…helping them. And even if – if they don't…" she trailed off, cleared her throat, and continued. "Even if they don't make it, I really appreciate you trying to help them," she said, all in one breath as though she might not be capable of saying it unless she got it over with as quickly as possible.

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. You saved their lives," he said and paused to let that thought sink in. Indeed, it seemed to hearten her a bit; her complexion was brighter than before, and she even smiled.

She helped set one stretcher next to Chang Hee and one next to Kyung Mi. On a count of three, the doctors carefully transferred their patients from the ground to the stretchers. Hawkeye and Margaret took either end of Chang Hee's stretcher while BJ and Father Mulcahy grabbed either end of Kyung Mi's stretcher. Emily moved in to help carry a stretcher, but BJ shook his head sternly and told her that he didn't want her exacerbating any of her injuries by helping. She looked as though she might protest, but didn't. Though that quickly sorted out the issue of who would carry whom, her lack of a fight worried BJ. She seemed to him like the type of person who would only stop fighting only when she was very sick…or dead.

The group headed with quick precision back to the jeeps. Hawkeye and Margaret loaded Chang Hee into the back of their jeep. Margaret sat with the wounded man while Hawkeye jumped in the driver's seat. BJ and Father Mulcahy placed Kyung Mi carefully into the back of their jeep. BJ assumed the driver's seat and instructed Father Mulcahy specific things to watch for in their patient. If he saw any of the things that BJ described, he needed to know immediately about it.

Emily crowded into the back of the jeep with Kyung Mi and Father Mulcahy. The trip back to the 4077th was slower going than it had been coming. The doctors were too afraid of jarring their patients' fragile lives, which were hanging in the balance, to go very fast.

Sitting in the back, Father Mulcahy noticed that Emily looked distinctly unwell. Though it was hot outside, she seemed to be sweating more than anyone else. She sat deadly still, barely breathing. Father Mulcahy leaned closer. "Emily?" he called softly, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Father. I'm fine," was the broken record response.

"Funny, you don't look 'fine'," He said, eyeing her more closely.

She opened her eyes and said quietly, "It's just that I've got a bit of a stitch in my side from all that running. It's a bit slow going away." Though not pleasant, Mulcahy knew that the cramps which resulted from running were not life threatening. It was clear that she had run a long way to help her friends and find the 4077th – Mulcahy estimated about five miles – so he didn't press the issue.

Sooner than Emily had thought possible, they were pulling through the gate into the 4077th. A bustle of activity surrounded the jeeps. Hawkeye and Margaret both jumped from the vehicle and had Chang Hee headed into the OR in record time. BJ, who called for the assistance of Klinger, followed shortly behind them. Father Mulcahy was left to scrub up so that he could perform his customary duty of watching over the patients in surgery.

Emily sat in the jeep for a few moments after most of the people had left. She dimly saw Colonel Potter and Radar exit the office and walk towards the jeep, but her mind was elsewhere. As the full realization of the events of the last hours hit her, her shaking resumed – more forcefully than before. She suddenly realized an urgent need to be sick. She jumped out of the jeep, but her legs could no longer support her. Her knees buckled, and she hit the dirt on her knees. Radar and Potter were on either side of her with a speed that would have guaranteed them first place in the M*A*S*H Olympics.

"Easy now, sweetheart," Colonel Potter said soothingly. "We've got you now."

She tried to pull away. At their insistent hold, she murmured, "Sick…going…be sick," Colonel Potter understood her pleas. Luckily, they weren't far away from a foxhole, so with the help of Radar, Potter quickly and efficiently led her over to it. She fell to her knees and began retching. There was nothing left in her stomach but some bile. Quickly, her attempts to throw up transformed into dry heaves, which themselves quickly ceased. Less than a minute later it was over. She hung limply in the grip of the two for a moment, but then she was able to sit up under her own power. She looked at them gratefully and said, "Thanks…sorry,"

"Gosh," Radar said, "being sick isn't anything to apologize for. You can't help it!"

Potter nodded and said, "Listen to the boy, he's right."

Still, she felt embarrassed and ashamed, like a child incapable of controlling even the most basic of bodily functions. She pushed herself up so she was standing, and though she wavered slightly, she once again seemed in control of herself. She strode toward the office, looking back to make sure that the two men would understand. It wasn't a lack of gratefulness at their actions. She just needed to see the surgery herself - needed to know that her friends were being cared for. She entered Post-Op and attempted to peer through the window. However, the window was a bit higher than she could comfortably look through. It would be more comfortable if she could stand on something.

She peered around and found a small footstool that the doctors and nurses sometimes used when getting things up and down from the highest shelves in the cabinets. That would do. She pulled it over to the door and climbed up onto it. She could see Hawkeye and Margaret were working silently over Chang Hee. BJ and another nurse were working on Kyung Mi. (Frank had flat out refused to work on "the enemy" and Potter had been on the verge of accusing him of insubordination. But there was much to be done and little time with which to accomplish it – and Frank wasn't really a great surgeon anyway, so Potter temporarily had let the matter slip.)

Hawkeye, who has facing the doors to Post-Op while working on Chang Hee's stomach wound saw her face appear in the window. Her face was smudged with dirt and worry. Someone – preferably Potter – should be taking a look at her he thought, but it was clear that her dedication to her friends ran deep. Most likely, she wouldn't allow herself to be treated until she was sure one way or the other about the fate of her friends. Hawkeye paused in cleaning out the remaining shrapnel long enough to make eye contact with her and give her a reassuring thumbs up. She smiled and thumbed back.

Hawkeye could see Potter's hat appear in the other window; presumably he was telling her to let him take a look at her injuries. He saw Emily shake her head and return her gaze through the window. Potter's hat left, though Potter couldn't have gone far for the hat appeared once again in the window. He handed her a glass of water, which she took without resistance or complaint. She sipped it slowly while looking through the window.

It didn't take long to complete the actual surgeries – perhaps half an hour at most. They had already completed much of their work out in the field before returning to the 4077th. Now they were able to sterilely remove the remaining shrapnel, stitch shut wounds, and set up IV lines of plasma, blood, and antibiotics. Hawkeye felt confident that if the two could make it through the first twenty-four hours, they shouldn't have a problem surviving their injuries.

BJ finished at roughly the same time Hawkeye did. Emily, convinced that her friends were stable at least for the moment and finagled by Potter into moving back from Post-Op and into Radar's office so she wouldn't be in the way, the doctors were able to take their patients into Post-Op. The two doctors paused only long enough to remove their bloody scrubs before entering Radar's office.

Potter had just settled Emily down enough to get her to sit on Radar's bed when the two men entered. Emily jumped up at the sight of them, looking anxious. "How…how are they? Did it go well? Did you –", but Hawkeye cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"The surgery went well," BJ said kindly. "I think your friends have a very good chance of surviving their injuries. But, the next twenty-four hours will tell us for sure." She looked relieved and relaxed almost imperceptibly.

"I tried to convince her to let me look at her," Potter said, "but she wouldn't let me do a darn thing. Said she wanted to watch and make sure it went well."

"Please don't talk about me as if I'm not here," she said in a small voice. "I'm not dead, and I'm not deaf. I'm –"

She had been intending to say that she was fine, but once again Hawkeye cut her off. "You are not fine," he said sternly, "You're about as far from fine as Frank is from being a good surgeon." That earned him a small smile, so he pressed the advantage and continued, "Now, we've taken care of your friends. Now I need you to let us do our jobs and take care of you."

She nodded once. Hawkeye gestured for her to sit back down on Radar's bed. "Radar, do you mind if she sits here?" Hawkeye pressed the company clerk.

"Well gee, of course not," he said, looking worried. He thought that the new girl was quite attractive. Under all the mud, blood, and worry it was clear that she had a nice body. Strong legs and arms, slender middle, and a chest that made Radar nearly blush just by glancing at it.

"Now, I need you to honestly tell me what hurts," Hawkeye said, looking her straight in the eyes so that he might have a better chance of knowing if she was lying or hiding something from him.

"My leg," she said quietly, gripping the appendage. She wore three-fourths length pants, the right leg of which was soaked with blood. Most of the blood appeared to be dry, so Hawkeye couldn't be sure whether or not it was her blood or the blood of her friends. Hawkeye helped her maneuver her right leg onto the bed. Radar's gonna need to change his sheets later, Hawkeye thought regretfully. She laid back, head against the wall, while Hawkeye and BJ examined the wound.

BJ knew it wasn't good. The wound was deep – at least an inch into her leg, and it was long. He guessed that the cut ran for about eight inches in the fleshy side of her calf. It began an inch or so below the side of her knee and ran to only an inch or two above her ankle. It would be awhile before she could regain all the mobility of the limb without pain. The skin around the wound was inflamed and hot to the touch. "An infection," BJ murmured. She would need IV antibiotics. Emily said nothing.

Potter moved to feel her face. It was flushed and warm. She easily had a high temperature. "I need to look at your head," Hawkeye said. Emily didn't protest, and BJ sat down on the bed so that he could put his hands behind her to help her up. She gave such a sharp gasp of pain while being helped to sit up, that both doctors were immediately on guard.

"What is it?" BJ asked, trying to assess the full extent of her injuries without being obvious. "What's wrong?"

"My…side..." was the strained reply.

Father Mulcahy, who had since followed the men into Radar's office after blessing the patients in Post-Op said, "Is your side still bothering you?"

Hawkeye whipped around to face the priest. "What do you mean 'still'?"

"She complained of pain in her side when we were driving back here. She said it was just a stitch in her side from running so far that was taking awhile to go away."

BJ saw Emily nod, looking miserable. "I've gotten cramps before when running. They just usually...go away faster than this."

"Which side hurts? Closer to your left hand or your right?" Hawkeye asked urgently, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Right," she answered hoarsely. Hawkeye had a bad feeling that his suspicions were correct.

"I need to look at your side," Hawkeye said. She nodded slowly, and BJ helped her to lie down. Hawkeye bent over, pulling her shirt up to her ribs and the side of her pants down to her hip. Radar was hard pressed not to look. He stole a few glances at her and was convinced of it – she was beautiful. Hawkeye began pressing gently around on her right side. He started up high and worked his way down lower, praying that it wasn't going to play out like he thought it was. He pressed down gently on the skin not far from her hipbone, removed his fingers, and was rewarded with such a sharp cry of pain that he could have no doubt in his mind.

In pain, tired, and sick, Hawkeye's pushing down on that sore spot that she had been desperately trying to ignore was the last straw. She yelped and pulled away from him, quickly curling into a fetal position on her right side. Her hands had protectively wrapped themselves around her middle before Hawkeye could do any more poking and her eyes were clenched shut. She could feel herself shaking, but couldn't stop it.

"Appendicitis," Hawkeye said grimly, "and it's bad,"

Hawkeye heard Radar gasp. He recalled the warmth he felt from the skin he had palpitated above the small organ. They needed to get her to the OR. However, she had curled herself so tightly into a ball that they wouldn't be able to get her safely onto a stretcher.

Radar and Potter scrambled out of the room to get a stretcher. Father Mulcahy put a friendly hand on her arm and began to pray for her safety. Her father dead, village destroyed…To die after saving the lives of her friends, he thought, surely a soul can only handle so much injustice.

"Emily," BJ said, attempting to make eye contact with her, but her eyes were tightly clenched shut. He put a cool hand on her face. Her breathing was shallow and ragged. "Hawkeye and I need to operate on you. You have appendicitis. I don't know if you know what that means or not, but it means that an organ in your body has stopped working right. We need to remove it before you get even sicker. I need you to straighten out for me so that we can lift you onto a stretcher."

BJ put his hand on her arm and leaned in, listening for a response. "I…ca…can't," she gasped out. She was going into shock. "H-hurts," she said in a whisper.

"I know it does," BJ reassured, stroking her hair, "but we're going to take care of that. Let me help you. We'll straighten you out as slowly as possible so it doesn't hurt so much." She gave a small nod and BJ looked at Hawkeye before saying, "Hawk is going to help you straighten out your legs." There was no response from her, but BJ nodded anyway. Hawkeye slowly and carefully pulled her legs out and away from her. BJ then rolled her carefully onto her back. Radar and Potter were back with the stretcher. BJ checked her pulse. It was erratic and faint. Her breathing was still shallow and rapid.

"Emily," Hawkeye said, "I need you to try and breathe slowly and deeply." He could see that she was trying to accommodate his request, but she was barely cognizant of what was going on, lost in a haze of pain and exhaustion.

"On a count of three, we'll lift you onto the stretcher. One, two, THREE", BJ said, and the two men carefully deposited her onto the stretcher held by Radar and Potter. "Take her into Pre-Op and get her prepped," Hawkeye ordered. "Beej and I will scrub up and be there in a minute."

Indeed, the two men were very fast and had joined the group before Potter had even had a chance to administer some sedative. None of them was sure of the extent of her head injury. She hadn't seemed too confused, and she had been mostly capable of functioning independently the entire time that she had been with them. However, knowing that the surgery would be long and painful without sedation, and knowing that they would also need to clean and stitch her leg and head wounds, Potter decided that sedation was for the best. They would have to hope that her head injury was not too serious.

BJ saw glassy, pain glazed, grey eyes looking up at him. He took her hand and leaned in. He heard her struggling to speak. "Am I going to…going to…", she didn't seem to have the strength left to finish the sentence.

"No, you're not," BJ said firmly. "Hawk and I will take good care of you. You'll be just fine in no time."

She smiled and said faintly, "Thanks."

BJ nodded to Potter to administer the sedative. He saw her eyes slowly close as though she were fighting the medicine, and then all she knew was blissful unconsciousness.

Again, please guys, let me know if you like this story and want me to post more. Thanks for reading!