It's been over 6 years, but I never forgot about this story. I had to go on hiatus for life reasons. It continues!
Margaret woke up to the sound of hushed voices and the clanging of dishes, her vision fuzzy as she blinked momentarily. Her shoulder was a barrage of shooting pain, stinging like fire. She was lying down on something soft, and a closer look found it to be a pile of cloth and… straw? It was dark, and a dim light was flickering softly in the distance from what seemed to be a small fire. She could feel the makeshift bandage wrapped tightly around her shoulder, and she failed to stifle a groan of pain. Within moments she saw a figure kneeling beside her, but the words they spoke didn't register instantaneously.
"Su Min? Thank heaven you're awake! We were all so worried! How do you feel?" That voice… it was Areum!
Margaret's memory started to fall back to her in bits and pieces, and her heart leaped in her throat when she recalled what had happened. "Where are we?" She rasped, ignoring the girl's question as she tried to get a better look around her.
Areum gently pushed her to lay back down, brushing a strand of hair from her sweat-soaked forehead. "Don't worry," she murmured softly, "we are safe. You've been asleep for a long time. We stole a boat and have been traveling down the Yalu for the last two days. A farmer found us last night when we stopped to look for food, and he has given us a place to stay."
Margaret felt a wave of immense shock and awe threaten to pull her asunder, trying to register what the words Areum spoke to her meant. They did it. They actually did it. They escaped Gwan Dae. After being struck, she was sure she was going to die. When she lost consciousness, a part of her had made a tentative peace with death, content with knowing that at least the girls would have escaped such a horrible life. But she wasn't dead. She was here, free, and alive. It felt surreal and incredibly visceral all at once, and the sensation was dizzying.
Areum must've noticed her pallor, because she was quickly urging her to breathe again, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze. "We were afraid you would die, Su Min," she confessed, voice wobbly and small, "you burned with fever after you were hit by the bullet. But praise the gods, last night the fever broke and the color has returned to your face."
Huh, Margaret mused to herself, I'm now one of the minorities of those who can survive a battle wound infection without treatment. The thought would've been more impressive had she not known of so many soldiers who didn't have her luck.
She squeezed Areum's hand, giving her a slightly crooked smile. "You did it," she murmured proudly, voice still barely above a whisper as she marveled at the young woman before her. Areum, who just days ago was so terrified of leaving behind the only home she'd ever known. The strength of these women who she'd come to know as her sisters astounded her.
Areum laughed weakly at that, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye, "I'm not sure I even know what it is I've done yet," she laughed in a bittersweet tone, "I feel like I'm living inside a dream. I don't know what's real anymore. All I know is that we are here, all of us safe… for now."
Margaret wanted to ask what that meant, figure out where they even were, when the rest of the girls took notice that she was awake and eagerly clamored over to her.
"Su Min, you're alive!"
"I thought you'd never wake up!"
"Are you ok?"
"We have rice made for you, Su Min."
Margaret stilled them all when she held up a hand for a moment, catching her breath as she forced herself into a sitting position. "Where are we? How far did we make it from Gwan Dae?" She asked.
"We're in a village 40 miles west of Chorwon, just south of the fighting." Gayoon answered, "I don't know how far we are from the Gisaeng house, but we've been sailing at a steady pace until yesterday. The current is strong here."
Margaret let out a sigh she didn't know she'd been holding, taking comfort in the fact that at least they'd gotten out of the enemy stronghold territory. But she knew better than to think that meant they were safe. All that meant was that it was no longer certain that whoever they came across would be an enemy; it could be anyone.
And God, what she would do to remember what coordinates the 4077th were.
"Ok," she murmured quietly, "we need to keep moving. Further south, ask villagers where American troops are most likely to be seen."
A collective look of fear struck the faces of all the women, seeming to back away an inch from Margaret at the thought of approaching one of the feared soldiers from across the sea. It was different with Margaret, she was a woman and one of them. But Areum herself felt her stomach plummet at the idea of walking up to the men whom she'd only been told horror stories of.
"How can you be sure they will care about us?" Hea asked flatly, her voice more exhausted than bitter like it used to be. She seemed to have lost her resentment for Margaret now but had been overtaken by doubt instead.
Margaret opened her mouth automatically to assure her that of course they would care, but paused when she realized that maybe she couldn't be so sure. She no longer worshipped the ground her country walked on, especially not after all of this. She knew how many corrupt officials there were, how many generals could care less about innocent victims, and were more concerned with racist ideals than anything else. She'd just always assumed they were few and far between… but now, faced with the possibility of being turned away after they'd come so far, her decision suddenly held much more gravity. They couldn't afford to run into one of the army puppets that Hawkeye had always raved about but she initially refused to believe in. Another place where Pierce was right and you were naive, she thought absentmindedly, before shutting that train down.
She couldn't think of the surgeon right now. She would lose herself.
Determinedly, she looked to Hea with a resolute strength. "I will speak with them first," she said, "you all will hide and I'll go alone. If I get the slightest inkling that they would leave you behind, I'll move on and they'll never know you were here. We'll keep going until we find someone I trust. There are good people who will help us; I just need to find them."
Hea looked skeptical at this, but her posture deflated slightly when she realized she didn't have another choice. Su Min had gotten them this far; surely she was knowledgeable about who among her own people could be trusted.
"The only thing worse than turning us away," Chin Sun piped up fearfully, "would be to send us… back."
They all gulped at the idea, knowing full well what would happen to them if they ever set foot in the north again. They would be tortured mercilessly for however long it took to quell Gwan Dae's rage, to satisfy Seo Hwa and the others before being killed in the most shameful manner and tossed to the animals as feed. Hea's heart threatened to dissolve when she remembered Kai, her brother, what he must think of her now… The only family I had left, and I shall never see him again. She bit her lip fiercely, hoping to draw blood and feel something.
Margaret laughed woodenly at that, her eyes alight with an almost hysteric type of fire. "I would like to see anyone try and send you back," she replied, "I have 300 friends who would raise hell before you even crossed the border."
Gayoon furrowed her brows in thought as she went to pour some of the rice the farmer gave them into a bowl for Su Min, bringing it to her with carefully clasped hands. "Is that where we are going to, Su Min?" She asked, handing Margaret the bowl, "The little village where you worked? I know they must be safe, surely, if they were willing to heal Duk Sang and let him go."
Margaret smiled softly at her, remembering how BJ and the rest would never let anyone get between them and their patients. She knew even without seeing them that her friends would fight for the girls just as fiercely as she had.
They would be protected for once in their lives, safe from all those who'd denied them mercy since childhood. They would get to make their own choices, start their own lives… And knowing that Hawkeye was out there waiting for her, Margaret too felt like she could come to life again too.
"Yes," she answered gently, "that's where we're going.
BJ felt eerily uneasy around Thompson the more he saw him around the camp- the lieutenant seemed to always be lurking around corners, watching them in silence without engaging in any sort of banter. The man was like a machine, devoid of any human interaction that would make him seem at all like someone worth speaking to. And BJ shuddered to imagine how many people had met their end beneath the hands of this man who clearly did whatever it took to fulfill an order.
Hawkeye seemed to be putting up with his presence solely for Margaret's sake, as he didn't try to insult or jab at him again since they first met. He completely ignored him for the most part, aside from bringing up his name when asking colonel potter if they had any new information. BJ supposed that in some odd way he should be thankful to Thompson, for at least giving his best friend some sense of hope- Hawkeye seemed to have a renewed sense of purpose in him now that he saw the army had sent someone in to actually go looking for Margaret, and a small spark of hope had quickly spread throughout the camp. The hope that maybe she was still alive, that maybe she could still walk through the camp someday. It felt somewhat foolish to cling to that idea, but when faced with the alternative, BJ didn't really have another option.
Hawkeye had at least stopped being so despondent, had stopped drinking as heavily as he initially did. It was by no means close to normal, but it was enough to let BJ breathe a sigh of relief that his friend would be ok for now. He still watched him with the ever-observant gaze, though, and at nights when the moon was out, they would sit together on the water tower and stare at the sky. They never exchanged a word; they didn't have to. Hawk was the only friend BJ'd ever had in his entire life where he was so understood. They just got each other- they never had to explain themselves, at least, not in the ways that mattered. Hawkeye knew better than to apologize to BJ for his behavior because they both knew that they'd always have each other's forgiveness. No matter what happened.
The forest they'd relocated in was far more peaceful to the valley they'd grown used to- perhaps it was because it was more remote, but at night BJ swore he could see every star in the sky and the trees encircled them like tall guardians. BJ was currently working over Hawkeye's wrists, massaging the extreme tautness from the tendons as they often did for one another after a long day of operating. More often now, BJ found himself flittering his fingers over his best friend's wrist, checking his pulse just to feel that he was alive and not a ghost.
"She told me to run." Hawkeye blurted, breaking the silence between them as they sat beneath the nightsky.
BJ paused, looking up at him to see his face an unreadable mask. "Margaret?" He stated more than asked.
Hawkeye nodded, eyes far off in a memory somewhere. BJ swallowed at the thought of the two of his friends, family really, caught in such a dire strait. Of course Margaret would tell him to escape even if she couldn't. A part of BJ, one he felt horribly guilty for, was glad that Hawkeye was spared that night, was glad Margaret had made him leave. He knew it was terrible and selfish, but he couldn't imagine losing the man who'd been his rock through the entire war. He honestly didn't know if he'd survive losing Hawk.
"I shouldn't have listened to her," Hawkeye murmured, voice barely above a whisper, "I should've stayed."
BJ closed his eyes and breathed in a sigh, clasping his best friends hand gently. "C'mon, Hawk, be honest with me," he said, "you're one of the smartest people I know. Do you seriously think that it would've made any difference if you stayed? That you could've taken down a dozen soldiers and everything would be fine?"
Hawkeye was silent, his hand tense once more in BJ's grip.
"The only thing that would've done was make things worse," BJ said softly, "instead you survived, you got help, and now someone is going out to find her. You did the right thing."
"Then why does it feel so wrong?" Hawkeye asked with a hint of desperation, and his face was so pained that it hurt BJ's heart to look at.
BJ pulled him into a hug, which he eagerly reciprocated.
"Sometimes the right things are the hardest things to do," he whispered fiercely, willing his best friend to understand, "but you know what's right from wrong. You're an amazing person, Hawk, you have that goodness in you. You would never do the wrong thing in a situation like this."
Hawkeye held him tighter, the wetness of his tears soaking the shirt on BJ's shoulders. He pretended not to notice.
"But how do you know?" He asked in a small, lost voice that BJ never wanted to hear again.
BJ pulled back just enough to face him, locking eyes to make sure Hawk saw the certainty in his gaze. "Because I know you," he murmured softly, "Hawk, really, I do. You're my best friend. I know you, and I love you. Anyone who knows and doesn't love you is a fool beyond redemption."
Hawkeye's mouth stretched into a crooked, wobbly smile. "You're a fool," he chuckled wetly, and gave BJ's nose a playful tug like the older brother that he was.
BJ smiled back, messing up his hair and earning an indignant squawk at that.
He thinks that maybe, they will be ok.