November 6th 1953
"Hawkeye, I don't want to go."
"We're not going anywhere near town, besides you can't even see it. It's gone," he reassured her over again.
"Really?" she wasn't sure to believe him.
"Really. You look beautiful. Now, come on," he gently grabbed her by her wrist.
She followed him cautiously. She could still feel it. He may not be able to see it, but she could tell it was there.
"Hawkeye where are we going?"
"It's a secret."
They went out the back door and followed a skinny trail that looked like it had been used a lot.
"You know it is beautiful here," Margaret commented as she walked close behind him.
"You should see it in late August, every leaf has it's own color. It's the most beautiful thing in the world."
"No wonder you missed it so bad," she remembered how he bored her with stories of his home.
"Yeah, well," he sounded disappointed, "sometimes I miss the good ol' 4077th that bad."
"You're kidding?" she expected him to be.
"No. I don't miss the war, the non-stop surgery, or the kitchen," he didn't comment on it. "Just the people, I miss the closeness we all shared."
She most defiantly understood that. She did too. They were her family; sure she had her dad, mom, and sister, but they were bound by something stronger than blood; probably from seeing so much of it.
"I know exactly what you mean. When was the last time you've talked to any of them?"
"Well, I was on the phone with B.J. a few months ago."
"A few months ago? I would have expected you two to be on that phone every day," she was surprised at what he said. They were best friends; she had expected to hear days, or even weeks, but not months.
"Here it is," he didn't want to talk about it. He hadn't told anyone that he was having trouble being back home.
She was worried about him. He wasn't acting like the Hawkeye she had grown to know so well. He was distant and only giving her mere smiles that didn't even show his teeth. They walked to where the trees met the beach. The water was so calm. There were shadows of seagulls flying in the sky. The sun was getting ready to go down. The pond was breathtaking. There was only a small way for the water to go back and forth.
"Wow," she was smitten by the sight.
"I've been coming here since I was a kid. I'd sit next to this tree and think everything through."
The dirt under the trees upping roots was fresh. She could tell he had been thinking things through a lot. She gave him a touched smile, "Thank you. You know there looks like there's enough room for both of us to think things through."
"I've been trying to think things through since my R&R on that beach," he said it so empty without feeling or being.
"Hawkeye, sometimes it's better to talk through things rather than think."
"It's OK Margaret. You wouldn't understand," he passed it off.
"Understand? Pierce, you don't understand how it felt to let someone in your life and let them crush it. That happened to me, twice. I didn't expect you to understand; I don't expect you to. I just needed someone I could trust to lean on," her anger fought back the tears.
He just looked at her. She was right, he didn't understand what she had been through, how could he? Thoughts zipped through his head. He turned away and looked at the water. He was in a trans with the memory that infested his life.
"She killed the baby because I told her to," he said real quiet, still looking out to the ocean. It was the first time he had said it out loud.
"What?" she wasn't sure if she heard him right.
"On that trip, on that bus. There was a patrol coming. We had to be quiet or else they would find us. The baby wouldn't stop crying. I kept telling her to keep him quiet," he stopped with a blank face.
She could only look at him. He was so scared; he looked lost and that he would never be found. She had never seen him like this before. She'd seen him scared a number of times, but that was for his body, this time he seemed to be scared for his soul and sanity.
"She smothered him. She killed her son because I told her to keep him quiet," he began to cry.
She immediately sat them down. She placed his head on her chest and rocked him back and forth. She couldn't think of a thing to say. He had been carrying that around with him for months, before they came home.
"Shh, just let it go,"
He was clung to her. His arms were around her waist. One of her hands was caudling his head and the other stroked his back. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn't going crazy. Being held by Margaret gave him a net to fall into.
The sun went down while the two friends pulled each other out of their holes.
"Margaret, you're the only person I've ever told that to," he was amazed at how much was lifted from him.
"You're the only one I've told lots of things to," she confessed.
He gave her an understanding smile. "Come on, there's something I want to do."
"What?"
"I got a phone call to make."
"Good."
It took them a while to get back to the house in the dark; they had been sitting in the sand for close to three hours. Margaret went upstairs to leave him to B.J. She felt so welcome in the old house. Hawkeye showed her where just about everything was and that she was welcome to anything. Hawkeye made it fell like the house was her home.
She decided to take a bath. The warm water was still a shock from the cold short showers of three years. She could hear Hawkeye's laugh. She was glad to hear it again. The wonderful water was making her skin wrinkly and soggy. It was a shame to let it go down the drain.
She began drying herself off. She wiped the mirror of its steam coat and stared into it. Her hand ran where Brian had hit her. She could see it; she could feel it. His cold eyes glared down on her. They were so icy and heartless. She thought she had learned her lesson with Donald. Not once did he raise his hand to her, but his unfaithful behavior to her hurt the same way. Her still wilted fingers could feel the scar on her. She hated that she was hurt by the same kind of man that didn't care for her in the least.
She tried to shrug it off. She hated to cry, letting things get to her. She went to the guest room Hawkeye had put her up in. She sat on the bed; she wanted to scream and make the whole thing just go away.
Downstairs, Hawkeye was listening to BJ talk about Peg and how much Erin had grown. It was about the same conversation they had had before, only this time Hawkeye was a part of it. He was laughing and joking, something he hadn't done in a long time. He was holding his fears and grieves in; they were still there but they weren't building pressure on his thoughts.
"Hey Hawk, it's getting late. I need to put Erin to bed."
"Oh, OK. I'll talk to you later Beej."
"Hawk?"
"Yeah?"
"It's good to have you back."
"Thanks Beej," with that he slowly hung up the phone. It was good to hear BJ's voice again. He wanted to go tell Margaret everything they talked about, but he looked at the clock. It was already eleven. It was only eight in Mill Valley; he didn't realize how long they were talking. She would have already gone to sleep.
He decided to make himself a cup of coffee. Not the best thing to be drinking in the middle of the night, but it was the only thing he could think of. Hawkeye was grinning at the thought of little Erin playing with her new puppy.
He took his mug upstairs with him. He was already more than halfway done with it, but he never did like wasting good coffee. He was in front of Margaret's door; he wanted to go in and check on her, but he thought he better not. He was just going to continue to his room when he heard her crying. He knocked. There wasn't an answer so he went ahead and opened the door and walked in.
She wiped the tears from her face when she heard the knocking. She didn't say anything; the lump in her throat was too big. She wanted him to go away; she didn't want him to see her shed anymore tears.
"Margaret?"
She still didn't say anything. She wanted him to hold her just as bad as she didn't want him to see her cry. She didn't have to say it; he could read her like a book, most of the time. He put his coffee down on the dresser and sat next to her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
"Hey why don't we go see Dad tomorrow?" he broke the silence. "He wants to meet you and then we could go down to Boston and get the rest of your things," it was a thought out of the blue.
"Hawkeye, I don't know," she replied to only the first part.
"Yeah, you can come stay with me and Dad. You can work at the office. Bessie has been begging me to get her a real replacement; she's been wanting to retire for as long as I can remember. And I already know what a great nurse you are."
"It's a tempting offer."
He cut her off, "Just until you can get back on your feet without leaning on anyone."
She cracked a crooked smile with the tears on her cheeks. "Only until I get back on my feet." ________________________________________________________________________
They left early the next morning. They visited Daniel in Portland. He was even more gentle and vindictive as his son was. Margaret thought he was so easy to get along with. He was glad to hear that she was going to be staying with them. He could tell that Hawkeye had strong feelings for her - even if he didn't realize it. He saw that his son was more cheerful since the last time he talked to him.
They snuck him lunch. It was only tuna fish, but it was a great deal better than the slop they were feeding him at the hospital. They would have stayed all day, but they had to get to Boston and back.
Margaret cleaned out her apartment. There wasn't much there in the first place. She mostly had cloths, some books, photos, and a few other things that fit into a box. She had only been living there for a month and a half. She tried returning to the army, but it lost its allure to her. There wasn't any point to it anymore, so she quit. She had to. She was scared to tell her father yet or the rest of her family, though she planned on doing it soon. They would be disappointed, but she didn't care. None of the officers respected her as an authority or as a medical nurse. They were arrogant, and she was too used to the eccentric characters she had worked with.
She gave the key back to the crabby, yet somewhat sweet landlady. She called Dr. Erickson, the head of her department, and explained to him she got an offer of another job she just couldn't refuse. He was a bit disappointed to loose such a credible nurse, but he had no control over her and wished her good luck.
"Hawkeye, I don't want to go."
"We're not going anywhere near town, besides you can't even see it. It's gone," he reassured her over again.
"Really?" she wasn't sure to believe him.
"Really. You look beautiful. Now, come on," he gently grabbed her by her wrist.
She followed him cautiously. She could still feel it. He may not be able to see it, but she could tell it was there.
"Hawkeye where are we going?"
"It's a secret."
They went out the back door and followed a skinny trail that looked like it had been used a lot.
"You know it is beautiful here," Margaret commented as she walked close behind him.
"You should see it in late August, every leaf has it's own color. It's the most beautiful thing in the world."
"No wonder you missed it so bad," she remembered how he bored her with stories of his home.
"Yeah, well," he sounded disappointed, "sometimes I miss the good ol' 4077th that bad."
"You're kidding?" she expected him to be.
"No. I don't miss the war, the non-stop surgery, or the kitchen," he didn't comment on it. "Just the people, I miss the closeness we all shared."
She most defiantly understood that. She did too. They were her family; sure she had her dad, mom, and sister, but they were bound by something stronger than blood; probably from seeing so much of it.
"I know exactly what you mean. When was the last time you've talked to any of them?"
"Well, I was on the phone with B.J. a few months ago."
"A few months ago? I would have expected you two to be on that phone every day," she was surprised at what he said. They were best friends; she had expected to hear days, or even weeks, but not months.
"Here it is," he didn't want to talk about it. He hadn't told anyone that he was having trouble being back home.
She was worried about him. He wasn't acting like the Hawkeye she had grown to know so well. He was distant and only giving her mere smiles that didn't even show his teeth. They walked to where the trees met the beach. The water was so calm. There were shadows of seagulls flying in the sky. The sun was getting ready to go down. The pond was breathtaking. There was only a small way for the water to go back and forth.
"Wow," she was smitten by the sight.
"I've been coming here since I was a kid. I'd sit next to this tree and think everything through."
The dirt under the trees upping roots was fresh. She could tell he had been thinking things through a lot. She gave him a touched smile, "Thank you. You know there looks like there's enough room for both of us to think things through."
"I've been trying to think things through since my R&R on that beach," he said it so empty without feeling or being.
"Hawkeye, sometimes it's better to talk through things rather than think."
"It's OK Margaret. You wouldn't understand," he passed it off.
"Understand? Pierce, you don't understand how it felt to let someone in your life and let them crush it. That happened to me, twice. I didn't expect you to understand; I don't expect you to. I just needed someone I could trust to lean on," her anger fought back the tears.
He just looked at her. She was right, he didn't understand what she had been through, how could he? Thoughts zipped through his head. He turned away and looked at the water. He was in a trans with the memory that infested his life.
"She killed the baby because I told her to," he said real quiet, still looking out to the ocean. It was the first time he had said it out loud.
"What?" she wasn't sure if she heard him right.
"On that trip, on that bus. There was a patrol coming. We had to be quiet or else they would find us. The baby wouldn't stop crying. I kept telling her to keep him quiet," he stopped with a blank face.
She could only look at him. He was so scared; he looked lost and that he would never be found. She had never seen him like this before. She'd seen him scared a number of times, but that was for his body, this time he seemed to be scared for his soul and sanity.
"She smothered him. She killed her son because I told her to keep him quiet," he began to cry.
She immediately sat them down. She placed his head on her chest and rocked him back and forth. She couldn't think of a thing to say. He had been carrying that around with him for months, before they came home.
"Shh, just let it go,"
He was clung to her. His arms were around her waist. One of her hands was caudling his head and the other stroked his back. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn't going crazy. Being held by Margaret gave him a net to fall into.
The sun went down while the two friends pulled each other out of their holes.
"Margaret, you're the only person I've ever told that to," he was amazed at how much was lifted from him.
"You're the only one I've told lots of things to," she confessed.
He gave her an understanding smile. "Come on, there's something I want to do."
"What?"
"I got a phone call to make."
"Good."
It took them a while to get back to the house in the dark; they had been sitting in the sand for close to three hours. Margaret went upstairs to leave him to B.J. She felt so welcome in the old house. Hawkeye showed her where just about everything was and that she was welcome to anything. Hawkeye made it fell like the house was her home.
She decided to take a bath. The warm water was still a shock from the cold short showers of three years. She could hear Hawkeye's laugh. She was glad to hear it again. The wonderful water was making her skin wrinkly and soggy. It was a shame to let it go down the drain.
She began drying herself off. She wiped the mirror of its steam coat and stared into it. Her hand ran where Brian had hit her. She could see it; she could feel it. His cold eyes glared down on her. They were so icy and heartless. She thought she had learned her lesson with Donald. Not once did he raise his hand to her, but his unfaithful behavior to her hurt the same way. Her still wilted fingers could feel the scar on her. She hated that she was hurt by the same kind of man that didn't care for her in the least.
She tried to shrug it off. She hated to cry, letting things get to her. She went to the guest room Hawkeye had put her up in. She sat on the bed; she wanted to scream and make the whole thing just go away.
Downstairs, Hawkeye was listening to BJ talk about Peg and how much Erin had grown. It was about the same conversation they had had before, only this time Hawkeye was a part of it. He was laughing and joking, something he hadn't done in a long time. He was holding his fears and grieves in; they were still there but they weren't building pressure on his thoughts.
"Hey Hawk, it's getting late. I need to put Erin to bed."
"Oh, OK. I'll talk to you later Beej."
"Hawk?"
"Yeah?"
"It's good to have you back."
"Thanks Beej," with that he slowly hung up the phone. It was good to hear BJ's voice again. He wanted to go tell Margaret everything they talked about, but he looked at the clock. It was already eleven. It was only eight in Mill Valley; he didn't realize how long they were talking. She would have already gone to sleep.
He decided to make himself a cup of coffee. Not the best thing to be drinking in the middle of the night, but it was the only thing he could think of. Hawkeye was grinning at the thought of little Erin playing with her new puppy.
He took his mug upstairs with him. He was already more than halfway done with it, but he never did like wasting good coffee. He was in front of Margaret's door; he wanted to go in and check on her, but he thought he better not. He was just going to continue to his room when he heard her crying. He knocked. There wasn't an answer so he went ahead and opened the door and walked in.
She wiped the tears from her face when she heard the knocking. She didn't say anything; the lump in her throat was too big. She wanted him to go away; she didn't want him to see her shed anymore tears.
"Margaret?"
She still didn't say anything. She wanted him to hold her just as bad as she didn't want him to see her cry. She didn't have to say it; he could read her like a book, most of the time. He put his coffee down on the dresser and sat next to her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
"Hey why don't we go see Dad tomorrow?" he broke the silence. "He wants to meet you and then we could go down to Boston and get the rest of your things," it was a thought out of the blue.
"Hawkeye, I don't know," she replied to only the first part.
"Yeah, you can come stay with me and Dad. You can work at the office. Bessie has been begging me to get her a real replacement; she's been wanting to retire for as long as I can remember. And I already know what a great nurse you are."
"It's a tempting offer."
He cut her off, "Just until you can get back on your feet without leaning on anyone."
She cracked a crooked smile with the tears on her cheeks. "Only until I get back on my feet." ________________________________________________________________________
They left early the next morning. They visited Daniel in Portland. He was even more gentle and vindictive as his son was. Margaret thought he was so easy to get along with. He was glad to hear that she was going to be staying with them. He could tell that Hawkeye had strong feelings for her - even if he didn't realize it. He saw that his son was more cheerful since the last time he talked to him.
They snuck him lunch. It was only tuna fish, but it was a great deal better than the slop they were feeding him at the hospital. They would have stayed all day, but they had to get to Boston and back.
Margaret cleaned out her apartment. There wasn't much there in the first place. She mostly had cloths, some books, photos, and a few other things that fit into a box. She had only been living there for a month and a half. She tried returning to the army, but it lost its allure to her. There wasn't any point to it anymore, so she quit. She had to. She was scared to tell her father yet or the rest of her family, though she planned on doing it soon. They would be disappointed, but she didn't care. None of the officers respected her as an authority or as a medical nurse. They were arrogant, and she was too used to the eccentric characters she had worked with.
She gave the key back to the crabby, yet somewhat sweet landlady. She called Dr. Erickson, the head of her department, and explained to him she got an offer of another job she just couldn't refuse. He was a bit disappointed to loose such a credible nurse, but he had no control over her and wished her good luck.