Seconds, minutes, perhaps hours passed. He wasn't sure how long it had been or what time it was, but when he opened his eyes, it was light out. She was still beside him. For the time being she was asleep, but he knew that it wouldn't last long. He worried about what would happen when she woke up. He moved to stretch his legs, but he felt her grasp his arm. Perhaps she wasn't as sound asleep as he'd thought.

"No…"

He wanted to make her some tea, but he couldn't bear to leave her. He wished that he'd brought something to calm her down; Diazepam, perhaps. But Margret didn't need drugs. She needed a friend.

"It's late, or rather early." He whispered into her hair. "Let's go to your bedroom."

His words jolted him and he half expected her to screech at him for being so foreword. But she merely stirred, oblivious to his words.

"All right, come on." Carefully he lifted her off of the sofa and carried her into the bedroom. He didn't have to wonder which room it was. He recognized the red curtains, the red satin pillows, the touches that reminded him so much of her tent in Korea. It was almost like being back there again; almost. And amazingly it made him smile.

He drew the quilt back and laid her on the bed. When she was all tucked in, he kissed her cheek and walked out of the room.

The apartment was small, and there was no other bedroom so he settled himself onto the sofa. It was surprisingly comfortable, much more than his sofa back in Crabapple Cove. As egocentric as it sounded, he could definitely get used to this.

A photo album lay on the coffee table and out of curiosity, he picked it up and opened it. The first picture made him smile. It was a photograph taken long ago. A group picture consisting of himself, Klinger, Margret, Radar, Trapper, Father Mulchay, Kelly… and two others…Henry and Frank.

Hawkeye swallowed hard, brushing back tears that he would have been embarrassed for anyone else to see.

Damn it, Frank. Why did you have to leave her?