Hi everyone! Here's the next installment of the story. I really appreciate everyone who's still reading. Thanks so much for your time. Also, thanks to my busy, but very talented beta Ladyhawke Legend. I would never post without her wonderful advice! A/N: Father Mulcahy's first name is John. People don't usually call him by it, but someone is going to use it in this chapter. Just so you're aware.

Chapter 10

Walking into pre-op, Emily found herself comforted by the quiet of the room. The few other patients, including Captain Conroy were napping. Kyung Mi was sitting up in bed, clearly waiting for her. Kyung Mi grinned broadly. "You are sneaky!" she exclaimed with a laugh.

Emily grinned conspiratorially at her. "I might be sneaky, but you're damn sneaky too. I couldn't have done it without you!"

Kyung Mi gave a half-shrug as if to say 'It was no problem, don't worry about it.' Emily smiled in return and sat down on the edge of Kyung Mi's bed. She jiggled her leg, still full of pent-up nervousness.

"So," Kyung Mi said slowly, "what now?"

Emily seemed to consider her question carefully, and then shrugged. "Not sure," she nibbled at her fingernails as she pondered.

"What about that doctor?"

"Which one? There are a lot of doctors around here."

Kyung Mi raised an eyebrow at her and said, "You know the one I mean. I am not stupid. I know he keeps an eye on you."

Emily knew she was talking about BJ, but refused to acknowledge BJ by name. So many other adults had come and gone in her life – her mother, her father, Kyung Mi's mother – so why should BJ be any different. If she wanted to be safe, she'd have to rely only on herself. Emily shrugged in response, suddenly feeling anxious.

"He would not let anything happen to you." Kyung Mi said, eyeing her friend. "Trust him."

"Yeah, well," Emily said, attempting to ignore what Kyung Mi had just said, "let's just worry about finding out what happened to everyone else in the village first. Okay?"

Kyung Mi pursed her lips, but said nothing. Finally, after an awkward silence, she spoke, "Emily, you are my best friend. But sometimes you are more stubborn than ox. BJ cares for you. He wants to take care of you. And she's proud of you. Don't doubt him!"

Emily looked away, trying to ignore being faced with the truth that Kyung Mi had just spoken. Emily could tell that Kyung Mi was annoyed. And right now, she didn't really want to be around other people. She needed a chance to think. She stood up and awkwardly said, "Well, I promised I wouldn't bother you for too long. You still need sleep after all." Kyung Mi seemed to accept her friend's excuse as she raised two fingers in a half-wave.

Emily could feel herself practically sprinting out of post-op. Why is everything so confusing? BJ really seems to care for me..like my own dad used to. But it's been just me taking care of me for so long… it's hard to believe that a complete stranger would want such an intense, caring connection with me. After all, what does he really know about me? It hasn't been that long since Dad died, but ever since the death of Mother, he'd become a recluse. I remember he was quiet, reserved, and seldom smiled. It was like Dad had died along with Mom. Despite what he said…I was never fooled. I knew that coming to Korea was just one more way to escape the life he used to have. It had nothing to do with wanting to spread the Gospel.

She sighed and walked toward the edge of camp. She sat there for a while, lost in thought. She nibbled her fingernails and considered everything that had happened. Chang Hee was gone. There was still no word on how he was doing – communication channels had been sketchy for a while and telling one patient about the status of another patient wasn't really high on the Army's priority list. Kyung Mi was healing, but wasn't entirely better yet. Hawkeye was very nice to her. Frank made her angry. And Radar was…distracting. She found the short clerk to be intriguing and kind. Though he was very shy around her, she felt very at ease with him. He was a good listener, was kind, and didn't judge anything she had to say.

And then there was the matter of BJ. He's wonderful. Like the father I never had – which just confuses me even more. Why should he want to take on that role? What have I ever done for him? She shook her head slightly in confusion. She bit, harder still, on her fingernails.

"You shouldn't do that, you know," came a voice from behind her, conversationally.

So deeply lost in her thoughts, Emily hadn't heard anyone approach. She jumped up, startled, and spun around with her fists up. Hawkeye stood behind her. He jumped a little at her confrontational stance. He held up both hands in a placating gesture. "Easy," he said.

She groaned, let out a breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding, and said, "Jesus, Hawkeye, you scared the hell outta me!"

"Sorry," he said, putting his hands in his pockets. When Emily didn't say anything, Hawkeye repeated, "You shouldn't do that."

"Shouldn't do what?" Emily asked, perplexed.

"Bite your nails. It's bad for your teeth, and it's bad for your fingers. Lemme see."

He held out a hand, waiting for her to give him her hand. She didn't move. "No," she said, sounding like a recalcitrant child, securely tucking her hands in her pockets.

He took a step closer. "C'mon. Give 'em. I'm not kidding." He was once again using the serious voice, which seemed so incongruous with his usually cheerful demeanor. She rolled her eyes and obliged, pulling her right hand out of her pocket. She presented it to him. "Sorry, it's kinda sweaty," she said, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Hawkeye said nothing as he examined the somewhat dirty appendage. The nails were bitten down to the nail bed. The cuticles were red and irritated. They had obviously bled recently. "So, you bite your nails a lot?" he half-asked. He continued to eye the fingers clinically, and then gestured for the other hand. He found the same situation with the other hand. He said nothing more about her mangled fingernails; he would mention the problem to BJ and Sid later. Rather, he said, "What're you doin' all the way over here?"

She shrugged and squinted in the bright sunlight. "You know, just…thinking," she answered lamely. Hawkeye dropped her hands and looked her dead in the eyes.

"Thinking about what?" he pressed.

"You know. Just…stuff,"

Hawkeye made a noise of annoyance in the back of his throat, but didn't push her to elaborate. His silence made her feel awkward.

She elaborated, "Things have just been…weird lately. Just kind of…sorting everything out in my mind."

Hawkeye nodded once. He put a friendly arm around her. "Well, instead of moping here like ole Ferret Face Burns, how about you join me and BJ for a game of cards?"

She smiled and nodded. Now that she had had some time to consider things, she had begun to realize just how precarious her place in the camp was – and she found herself longing for some company. Perhaps with company she might forget, if just for a little while, everything that was upsetting her. Hawkeye led her from the edge of camp, back to the Swamp.

On the way back, Emily found herself, despite wanting company, still needing some final moments to herself. While she always liked hanging out with Hawkeye and BJ, she didn't think that she could stand Hawkeye's teasing banter just then. "Hey Hawkeye," she said hesitantly, "mind if I grab some food from the mess tent and then meet you two for cards?"

"Sure," he said, patting her on the shoulder. "See you in a little bit."

Emily nodded and made her way to the mess tent. She didn't really want something to eat, but being alone a little longer gave her a chance to compartmentalize. She was sidetracked, however, by the lone figure of Father Mulcahy. He was sitting on his own, staring quite morosely into the cup of coffee in front of him. She had never seen the priest looking quite so depressed before.

Grabbing her own cup of coffee, she approached him. "Mind if I join you?"

Mulcahy barely looked up, lost in his own thoughts. He gestured vaguely, "Oh, of course. By all means…" He returned to examining his coffee cup.

She cut right to the chase. "You seem down. What's up?"

The Father hesitated. "Is that obvious that I'm upset?" he asked, somewhat self consciously, "No one else picked up on it yet. I thought I was holding things together pretty well."

"Well," Emily admitted, "I only just figured it out, so you're not doing so bad." She smiled, encouragingly and said, "So, what's the story, morning glory?"

Mulcahy paused for a moment, considering his thoughts. "I've been rather disappointed recently with the turnout at my Sunday sermons. I know Klinger comes so that he can wear his Sunday best. Granted, those outfits are quite nice. And he does work very hard on them. But still…" He took a sip of coffee and shrugged. "And Colonel Potter only comes out of respect for tradition, I think. But I suspect that… his mind drifts during the service. Perhaps my sermons aren't so good. And attendance otherwise is…less than desirable. And to top it off, I had planned a surprise for the children at Sister Teresa's orphanage and now the party supplies that I ordered so long ago won't arrive for who knows how long. The children will be so disappointed." He stopped and let out a long sigh, looking as though he were near tears.

She put her hand over his. "I'm sorry you're having a rough time. I know that hurts."

He smiled at her encouragement, but from the look on his face, he could tell he was still upset by everything.

She looked around the tent. There was no one there but the two of them. She blew out a slow breath and did something that she didn't usually do – she began to sing. "Here's the story of a girl, who grew up lost and lonely. Thinking love was fairytale and trouble was made only for me. Even in the darkness every color can be found. And every day of rain brings water flowing to things growing in the ground. Anytime you're hurt there's one who has it worse around. And every drop of rain will keep you growing things you're sowing in the ground. So keep your head up Johnny, buddy."

She paused, gathering herself. Singing in front of other people made her so nervous that her hands were shaking, but she knew that doing that for him had been the right thing. Mulcahy had tears in his eyes. He grasped her hand across the table. "Thank you," he said, his voice choked a little. "Thank you for reminding me of how lucky I really am. I shouldn't let little things like this get me down. God will solve everything."

Emily smiled and nodded. "It's true. He will. But in the meantime, I think I can help you with your problems. Look, I promised I'd meet up right now with Hawkeye and BJ, but maybe we can meet up later tonight. I've got some good ideas."

The Father nodded, looking infinitely less gloomy.

"See you later then," Emily said as she jogged off out of the mess tent.

Father Mulcahy smiled after her. As she left, Emily could swear she heard the priest murmur, "God bless you."

In the cool shade of the tent, BJ was waiting. He was sitting on his bunk, shuffling a deck of cards – and he looked clearly relieved that she was there. He had clearly been worried by her absence.

But rather than continuing to be worried, he held up the pack of cards and said, "Care to play?"

She nodded and sat down next to him on the bed. Hawkeye sat on his own bunk. There was a small, improvised table between their beds. "You play rummy?" Hawkeye asked.

Emily nodded, still partially lost in thought. She accepted the cards one at a time as Hawkeye dealt them around the table.

Her gaze turned inward, clearly elsewhere, Hawkeye caught BJ's eye. He gestured with his own eyes towards Emily. BJ looked over and then back, confused. Hawkeye raised one of his own fingers, waggled it, and then looked back at Emily. BJ followed his gaze and saw her raw and recently bleeding cuticles. BJ nodded to Hawkeye that he understood. He would keep an eye out for her biting again.

While the three were enjoying a nice game of rummy, Radar was hard at work in his office, filling out a supply order form and collecting together the most recent batch of mail so that he could sort it. He hummed quietly as he worked. The phone rang, startling him out of his reverie. He hurried over to the desk and answered the phone. He listened intently to the caller, his face darkening as he did so. He hung up the phone and sighed.

Back in the Swamp, Emily had soundly bested both Hawkeye and BJ at least three times. Hawkeye couldn't say for sure, because he had "accidentally" lost count. There was a timid knock on the door and all three could see the trademark green hat and glasses peering through the window.

"Come on in, Radar," Hawkeye called, considering his next move. The clerk entered and then stood awkwardly in the doorway. At his lack of response, both Hawkeye and BJ looked up at him.

"What's up Radar?" said BJ, setting his hand face down on the table. The young clerk looked unusually serious.

"I haveta talk to you guys," he said. He took his hat off his head and twisted it around in his fingers, a clear indication that he was upset.

"Radar," Hawkeye said, looking quite seriously at him, "something's bothering you. Spill it."

Radar hesitated, and then said, "I just got a phone call. It was the hospital. They said that Chang Hee…that he's not…that he didn't, uh..." He cleared his throat and looked away from them all. Though his speech wasn't clear, his meaning was – Chang Hee hadn't made it. Radar was embarrassed and upset that he had to deliver such news. He continued, not meeting any of their eyes, "They said that at first, he was doing okay. But then he got an infection after surgery and…" he trailed off looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Hawkeye and BJ looked at each other, and then both looked over to Emily. She was sitting very still, her face carefully neutral. It was like she was swimming underwater. She could hear Radar speaking. She even understood what he said, but it was like none of it processed fully in her brain. She heard him said that Chang Hee was dead, yet she didn't seem to have the energy to react. She knew she should be angry, upset, disbelieving…or something. But instead she just felt a blank, dead, emptiness. She looked down at her cards. Three Jacks.

She placed them down on the table and said, "When did they say he died?" Her voice was stiff, mechanical.

"Uh, two days ago," Radar said. "They said they'd been trying to get through to us since then, but that the lines had gotten kinda scrambled and they couldn't."

Emily nodded. She didn't know what else to say. In her heart, she had somehow already long since known that Chang Hee wouldn't be coming back. So now, hearing the concrete pronouncement didn't really surprise her. It was just confirmation of what she had already known. BJ put an arm around her and pulled her close.

She could tell tt worried him. She knew she hadn't really said anything. In fact, she knew that she barely seemed to have any emotions about the situation at all. It was a defense mechanism, and they all knew it. But it just wasn't healthy to have no reaction at all.

Radar awkwardly took his leave from the Swamp and went to go tell Colonel Potter and the others the news. It would spread fast in the small camp. The three sat in silence, cards forgotten. Hawkeye saw, almost reflexively, one hand come up to her mouth. She began to nibble, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was doing it.

BJ reached over and pulled her hand away from her mouth. "Don't do that," he said, quietly but sternly. "It's bad for you."

"Hmmm?" she asked, looking up. She looked at BJ's stern expression, and then down at her own nails. "Oops," she said, seeing the ragged and bleeding fingers. She sat for a moment and then let out a slow, deep breath through her nose. She substituted nibbling on her nails for rubbing one nail against the pad of another finger. She found a kind of comfort in the pressure being exerted on her nails. She couldn't explain why, but it was soothing. She cleared her throat and said, "He was a good man."

Not having personally known Chang Hee, BJ and Hawkeye just nodded. For a moment, there was silence, each man attempting to figure out something comforting to say, but nothing came to mind. They were saved, however, from having to think of anything by a commotion outside. A jeep had pulled up outside the colonel's office. A small Korean woman, who was being escorted by two soldiers, climbed carefully out of the jeep. Looking out the screen siding of the Swamp, Emily exclaimed, her voice rising in sheer disbelief, "Mama?"

Thoughts? I'd really appreciate if you'd leave a review. Also, just a note: the song that Emily sings is a real song. For those of you interested, it's part of a song called "Penny's Song" sung by Felicia Day. It's part of an online movie called "Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog". It's excellent, and I highly recommend you see it if you haven't already. XD You can find the song on YouTube, if you're interested. Please review!