It was a long week already. Without Dad around to help around the house on occasion, some things I took advantage of him doing piled up. I had to realign my schedule to get it all done and tend to my family. While Hawkeye had toned down his insanity, it was still best to make everyone and everything presentable. I wanted him to bear less stress on his shoulders.

But I had more worrisome news other than keeping house by myself with two girls (and hearing news about our old campmates, one them being Frank Burns divorcing his wife finally). In the mornings, I was violently sick. I almost could not keep up with my children, I was so tired. I was swollen, irritable and dizzy. I was pregnant again.

The news that came over the telephone from the Portland doctors stunned me and I almost fainted before hanging up. Jesus Christ, I was nearly thirty-three years old. I was getting too old to have children. My mother was nearly forty when Dean and I were born. I knew the risks were greater the older I became.

I was not going to play games this time. Dad was not around to keep my secret for a few months. Hawkeye had to know sooner than later. This was a happy accident and we had to accept it.

It took me a few days to bring up the courage to tell him because of how worrisome he had been, coming home and there not being a moment to say anything to each other. This time, I decided to call him at work. This way, I knew he was in a place where he didn't have to scream. I was also a long distance from him. He would be calmer about the news by the time he reached home.

The receptionist in the front office, Anna, answered the phone and we talked for a few minutes. When I eventually asked for Hawkeye, she said that he was busy right now and asked me if it was urgent. I heard some noise and what sounded like crying and coughing in the background. It sure did sound like they had a full house at the clinic.

"A little," I said calmly. Something felt wrong. "It's not an emergency though."

"I'll see if he's available," Anna promised.

The silence seemed to stretch on forever. I sat down on the ottoman near the telephone as I held it and twisted the cord. My eyes trained themselves to the window. Annabeth and Shannon were on the front porch. They were tossing a ball back and forth between each other and their dolls. One of them would act in the best interests of their imaginary friends and roll the ball to the next person if the game did not continue.

I was so caught up in their dreamlike world that I almost did not hear Hawkeye come on the phone. Immediately, my attention was on him. My ears heard the panic in his panting. My mouth moved to tell him that we will have another baby. But all that came out of me was a nervous squeak and some words gushing out.

"Hawkeye, I have some news to tell you," I blurted out excitedly.

"Jeanie, where are the girls?" Hawkeye sounded deathly anxious. He ignored my statement like I never said anything. "Are they inside?"

"No," I replied calmer, glancing at them through the glass. "They're outside with their toys. They're fine."

"Get them inside. Now." Hawkeye left me no room for arguments. "They cannot be outside."

"What? Hawkeye, are you mad? What is going on?"

"The epidemic is back. We've been loaded here."

"Do you need help?"

"No. Just keep the girls inside. I'll be home soon."

Then, the line went dead. For a minute, I didn't know that we lost the connection. I kept repeating Hawkeye's name, panic rising in my voice. When I realized that he was not there and an operator was asking me for a number to call, the fright ceased. It was time for action.

It didn't appear like a disaster was happening. When I raced outside and ordered the girls in, the world before us was the perfect autumn. The trees on the far end of town graced us with yellow, red and orange colors. The cool, crisp air that threatened winter came from the shoreline. The voices of a million schoolchildren going to school bounced from one house to another. There were some chilly coughs in there too, sick people…

Jeanie, stop. You're imagining things.

Shannon and Annabeth were confused as to why I ordered them inside. At four and one, they were used to having their own structured environment that allowed them enough freedom. They did not recognize the hysteria coming out of me. They were used to that from Hawkeye. I was the eye of their storm, providing cover and calm for when the next rains hit them. I was their umbrella, shielding them from the cold pellets.

"Mommy?" Shannon was confused and angry. She tugged at my dress. "Why can't we play?"

"We have to be inside now," I reassured her. "Daddy said so."

Shannon didn't like my answer. "Why didn't Daddy say so before he left?"

"Because he just found out," I told her. "Now, doesn't your doll want to be in her house?"

"No!" Annabeth yelled. "Not yet!"

That was when Annabeth started crying. Shannon walked over to her, trying to calm her down before a temper tantrum took control, and kept looking back at me in disgust. My eldest thought this was all my fault. I shattered their illusion of quiet. I took away what they desired more than anything else in their small world.

I grew sharp. "I think it's time for some time out," I announced, taking Annabeth from Shannon. To my oldest, I added, "I also think it's time for a nap. Let's eat and sleep."

It was like I slapped her. I was not a harsh mother, by any stretch of the imagination. I was stern and firm with my girls. They had the routine I took from Dad (and I added some things in there too). They had love and respect, compassion and care and always were taught respect. This sudden change unsettled them both.

Annabeth was sullen during her meal and accepted everything I helped her spoon into her mouth. Shannon said nothing and picked at her lunch without complaint. Both went down for a nap, although Shannon tossed and turned (she was close to becoming too old for a rest). I snuck downstairs, thinking of what chores to do next, when the telephone rang.

It was BJ. "Hey, do you need any help?" he instantly asked me. "Hawkeye said there was people getting sick around town."

"We're fine," I reassured him. "The girls are sleeping. I am about to maybe mop the kitchen."

"Charles is already at the clinic," BJ told me, ignoring my wifely recounting. "I'll be checking in tonight. Hawkeye has his hands full."

The words he uttered when he mentioned Hawkeye echoed in my mind. I knew that Hawkeye made BJ promise to take care of me if he could not. Fear gripped me again. If Hawkeye was so busy that he couldn't come home, then this illness was grave indeed. It had a mind to spread to every healthy body it could get its hands on. Hell, we could be next!

"I'll be here," I replied stubbornly. "We'll be fine." I had to repeat that line, to keep myself in check. I had to remain cool.

BJ mumbled something about how I always handled things myself and never liked to tell a soul. Then, he sighed. He sounded tired enough from flying in from California. This so-called vacation at a conference had turned into a nightmare. I had to soften up.

"Listen, BJ, I really appreciate your concern," I whispered. "I really do. Come over. I'll have coffee made and a bed cleaned off for you."

BJ said his thanks before disconnecting the call. I had to work quicker. Once the girls were up and playing in the living room, I ensured BJ's comfort. The coffeepot from this morning was cleaned out and filled with a fresh supply of grinded beans and water. The guest room was swiftly dusted and vacuumed and new sheets went on the bed. I debated about dinner and decided on sandwiches, since I didn't have time to shop. BJ was not going to care about formalities.

I checked on Shannon and Annabeth before deciding to drown my frustrations at a mop in the kitchen. However, before I could fill a bucket full of soap and water, I heard knocking on the door. There were what seemed to be a thousand voices, begging for help.

My senses told me to help whoever was at the door. Dropping the bucket I had in my hands, I rushed there and opened it without checking the peephole. What I saw shocked me beyond words.

There was a long line of people, from before my face to the end of the road. All of them carried each other and their children. Some were crying out in pain, crippled by an unknown agony. Many more were coughing and gasping for air. Those were the ones that sounded like they were choking.

Like a wounded soldier, one reached their hand out to me for comfort. "Help me, Mrs. Pierce," she begged as her weak hand touched my arm. She began wheezing and then was coughing. "I cannot breathe."

~00~

Before BJ arrived later that evening, I had deal with so many people come to our front door, to get treated and redirected. I could not rest. All of them had the same symptoms. It seemed like an upper respiratory infection, but they were all inflicted with joint pain, swollen throats and high blood pressure. The children were not immune either. I had to call an ambulance on several occasions because they were to the point where they might have had a stroke.

I had just ushered the last family out when BJ was dropped off by a taxi. He came in with one suitcase and a confused face. He passed the departing family and tried talking them for and asking if they required assistance. They waved him away. There was nothing he could have done anyway.

Annabeth and Shannon let him in while I washed dishes in the kitchen. The latter chatted to him about recent events. There was something peppered in that childlike conversation about how unfair I was being. BJ laughed it off and told them to mind me, but something in their tones changed him.

"Uncle BJ, can you talk to Mommy?" Shannon requested of him.

"Well, I can sure try," BJ replied. He sounded resigned. "I think I can make her see your way."

"Mommy sad," Annabeth mentioned.

This stopped me. I put the last clean dish in the slot and took off my apron. While I draped the damp fabric over a chair, I listened to my daughters tell BJ things I never realized they thought were wrong. They said I was more than sad. I was fighting with Daddy. Daddy smelled funny and slept when he was home or he yelled.

I was sad now. I tried very hard not to allow anything bad be seen. I smiled and laughed and played with my girls. I gave them tools to keep themselves growing and occupied. I did want our demons to chase them, but now I saw that Shannon and Annabeth were more perspective than I thought.

Soon, BJ entered the kitchen, where I mused over the small table. "Say, partner, where's the rodeo? People seem to ride the bull by the dozens."

I could have rushed into his arms for relief. It was good to see a friend again. But I stopped myself. BJ was holding his own problems on his shoulders. He was a busy doctor now, with two girls and a wife who needed his support. He could not hold onto my darkness too. He was helping around town.

I stood up, wringing my hands. "This…infection…reached town already."

"I can see that," BJ said. He drew closer and took a seat. When I copied him, he added, "Hawkeye and the others are trying to stop it before it spreads further south and west. This disease already crossed the border in many states."

"Dammit. What can we do?" I was so worried. "I did all that I could. I was so scared, BJ. What if –"

BJ took my hand and squeezed it. "You cannot think of what-ifs, remember? You have to find a solution." He paused and took a breath. "Antibiotics are working for so long. There are doctors working night and day to find the right concentrated formula. You have to trust that and use your mind to figure out the rest."

I squeezed my eyes shut. I had to stop the flow of tears. I could not think about the impossibilities that I had to face. I ran here to escape Korea. This was my home. I was supposed to be happy here, to have a good ending from the bad beginning. I shouldn't have had to think like a nurse, to cure a disease that was revenging an invisible war on people, and protect my home and hearth like this.

"I am sure the girls will be fine," BJ slowly explained. "They didn't have much exposure, right?"

I nodded.

"You kept them upstairs and disinfected the house before they played?"

Again, I nodded.

"I would not worry then."

The tone in BJ's voice told me otherwise. There was something else he knew, but will not tell me. It enraged me. I was going to scream at him, tell him that I was a nurse and could handle it. He didn't have to treat me like a child.

And yet, I could not bring myself to say anything. My lips did not move. The girls were nearby. I didn't want to scare them. I had to keep the sanity inside this storm's eye.

"I guess you're right." I released my hand from his iron grip. "Do you want to eat something? Or does going to bed now a better plan?"

"Probably a good idea to sleep than to eat," BJ said. "I will be out the door before the rooster cries. Leave the coffee on."

"And it'll be after midnight," I promised with a laugh.

But the next morning, my worst fears came to light. BJ left before dawn as promised, to help Hawkeye, and told me when I was half-asleep in the girls' room that he will come back as soon as he could. But he did not realize that Annabeth and Shannon were infected and so was I. I woke up to them screaming and crying for help as I tried crawling to the bathroom, as weak and fevered as they were.

~00~

My life was hell. It was not just the physical pain, but the mental agony. It was a blur of hours that seemed like minutes. It was the endless nights that left me breathless and wishing I was freed of this plague. It was the daytime longing that my daughters will survive when I could not. It was the constant squeezing, aching pain that flushed our bodies, from head to toe. It was the poisoned pounding that wrecked our ears into car crashes. It was so much

I was fearful that I was going to miscarry and wither away. I felt so sick, from the pregnancy and this disease, that I was sure that I was going to die from a great loss of blood or from throwing up so much. What's worse is that I slept with the girls, surrounded by towels, buckets and water. They were going to watch me pass into another world. I could not move.

But as long as they lived, I could bear it.

BJ never came back and I could not blame him. He probably had his hands full. It left me alone, to care for two girls and myself. But I had to be strong. Everyone depended on me to keep my head up. I could not drown now.

I lifted my head from its stiff bed one morning. Annabeth was coughing and could not move and she sounded weaker by the minute. I used my knees and managed to rise halfway. With as much strength as I could give, I shuffled over, burning my knees with friction. I felt her fevered forehead and lifted her head. I helped her drink water, but most of it dribbled out of her mouth.

"Mommy." The other girl was calling me.

I almost stumbled forward onto the floor. I caught myself with my hand, palms to the cold surface. I took a few wheezing breathes and moved on to help Shannon. I almost choked. My throat felt so restricted.

"What is it?" I hissed.

Shannon could not talk. She pointed to her throat. I felt it. It was swollen and hot, like her forehead. She almost could not draw air. Giving her water was useless.

"I didn't give birth to you in Korea to have you die here," I said to her. "We'll get through this. You'll see."

There was no choice anymore. I had to do something. I could not give into this illness. Those girls needed me.

It took some time. I don't know how much passed. I do remember somehow leaning against the railing on the stairs, coming down one at a time. I pictured myself opening the exam rooms and rummaging through some medicine Dad and Hawkeye left, trying to figure out what I can use. My eyes blurred reading each label.

"Shit," I swore. It hurt to talk. "Shit, shit, shit!"

I kept trying though and finally figured out what I was reading and then mixing. I don't remember what I did, but I managed to make some concoction that I thought might work. It was a dangerous venture. Nobody had combined so much in one punch before. But it all made sense.

I found a needle and syringe and plunger I could utilize. For a moment, as I prepared the dosage, my mind traveled far back. I was a young teen-ager. Henry was in front of me, instructing me to do something. I think he was finished with medical school at the time, for he was teaching me how to medicate myself. The silver arm went through my skin, causing me to come alive to a world I could not understand.

I shook my head awake. The needle was resting on my hot arm. I had to insert it in and found difficulty. Every time I tried finding a vein, my hand would shake and jerk it away. I struggled for a few minutes before managing to steady my hand enough. The cold liquid went in.

The effect was almost instant. I felt the medication float through me. It was almost akin to a drug-fueled hallucination. I could touch the colors passing through my head. The heat transformed to cold and then back to hot. The exam room lost its walls and the floors collapsed. I was floating through a nothingness I could not name.

The next thing I recollected was hitting the tiled floor, stomach first. My body burned with the sensation of a freefall. There was pain everywhere, but I did not care. This sort of walking on clouds was easier to deal with than the harsh reality of a hard death. I had to continue to fly.

"Oh, please," I whispered when I tried to roll over. I had no energy anymore. "Please help us…"


To momoflanda: I hope holds you over for a little bit. Another cliffhanger, but there will be more. I promise. :) To Mistress Twist: you've been patient enough with my prodding and messaging. We'll hold off on getting's Klinger's creations out. ;)