Thanks for the review! I would have posted sooner, but FF.net was down for three days! *sniff*

Out Story

Chapter 10: Threaten

Hawkeye's POV

"NO!"

The scream tore from my lips as I watched my lover bury his bloodstained knife in his chest. The chilling light left his eyes, the tortured expression left his face, and the strength left his legs. He dropped backwards onto his bunk, the knife still embedded in his chest.

"For God's sake, somebody help!" I shouted. Where the hell was everybody? When you wanted privacy, everybody clamoured for you. When you needed somebody, people disappeared. The door banged open.

"Frank – damn – Frank, I need your help."

"No."

"Frank, look at Trapper."

He glanced over at Trap, then shrugged. "Nice trick."

I stared. "Frank, it's not a trick. He's dying! DO SOMETHING!"

Frank smirked. "Why should I do anything for you immoral perverts?" He left. Margaret came in.

"Margaret…Margaret!" She grinned. "Hi Hawk. Oh my – Trapper!" Her eyes found the prone position of our friend. She banged open the door. "Colonel Potter, come quickly!" The colonel rushed over, the gruesome scene meeting his eyes. "Holy hemostat! Grab his feet, Major." They carefully lifted Trapper, as I wheeled out. "Litter! Corpsmen! Somebody help!"

The world blurred, and the next thing I knew, I was back in Post – Op. "Margaret," I called. She hurried over. "You passed out," she said, answering one of my silent questions. "We saved him…well, sort of." She pointed to Trapper, lying on his back in a bed, his torso wrapped in bandages. "He went into cardiac arrest three times. He lost so much blood. He barely made it. We…we don't know if he'll ever wake up, Hawk."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A/N: Here's a new POV – Margaret's!

I watched as Hawkeye clenched his hands around the arms of his wheelchair. His eyes never left Trapper's face. Suddenly, the colour drained from his face, his eyes filling with pain. "Damn it, Margaret, I'm so stupid! The last thing I said to him was that…I practically broke up with him! This is all my fault. He's been cutting again, I should have told someone, I should have said something!"

I turned his chair around, facing him. "Listen to me," I said, placing my hands on his arms. "It's not your fault. It's nobody's fault. You were angry. I'm not condoning what you said, but it isn't your fault."

"Frank."

I frowned. "What?" He turned his eyes back to Trapper's unconscious form. "This is all Frank's fault. If he had just believed me when I told him, then Trapper wouldn't have lost so much blood. I'll kill him."

I rolled my eyes. "Hawkeye, I know that Frank should have listened to you, but even if he had, it wouldn't have made that much of a difference." His gaze left Trapper to focus on me. "So, you're pardoning him?" I sighed. "Hawk, you're overreacting again."

"Am I? I don't think worrying over my best friend is overreacting!"

I stood up. "Go back to the VIP tent. You could use some rest – we don't need both our cutters on their backs." Ignoring me, Hawkeye wheeled over to Trapper's bedside.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Trapper's POV

I opened my eyes, wincing as the bright lights glared. For a spilt second, I could have sworn it was heavenly light – maybe I had succeeded. But it shifted into the hanging lights in Post – Op, and I cursed silently. I was still here. I would always be here.

Carefully turning my head, I found Hawkeye, asleep in his wheelchair. As I watched, his eyelids fluttered, then opened. "Trap!" he exclaimed, voice husky. He reached out to touch my face. "They weren't sure that you'd wake up. You've been out for a week." I grinned slowly. "You know me, always breaking the rules." He smiled, then frowned. "I'm sorry Trap."

"Forget it."

"No. I yelled at you, like always. This is my fault."

"No it isn't, so shut up, and stop blaming yourself."

The door to Post – Op banged open, and Frank stomped in. He gave us a dirty look, before donning his lab coat and stomping over. "Pierce, you're not supposed to be here. Get back to the VIP tent."

"Go trim your nose hair in a chopper blade, Frank."

Frank narrowed his eyes. "Listen, you degenerates. I know all about your little fling, so you'd better not disobey me, or I'll turn you in."

"You can't prove anything, Frank." He smirked. "I can't. But I have a witness who can. 2, actually. Of course, they may need a little…persuasion."

Hawkeye clenched his fists, as I struggled to sit up. "Frank, if you lay one slimy hand on Radar - "

"Or Margaret," I interjected, trying and failing to get to an upright position. "Or Margaret," Hawkeye agreed. "I'll rip you apart."

"And I'll rip your pieces apart," I finished. Frank still smirked. "Neither of you are really in a position to be making threats, now are you?" He slunk away. "Damn," Hawkeye swore. "I'm gonna follow him." I nodded.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hawkeye's POV

I wheeled out of Post – Op, into the dusty compound. Trailing Frank was no easy task, especially in a wheelchair. I headed for the VIP tent.

Inside, I held onto the door as I slowly stood up. My legs buckled immediately, and I fell back into the chair. Swearing under my breath, I stood again – only to fall again.

About two hours later, I finally walked around the tent without falling. Taking a deep breath, I ventured out into the compound. I knocked on the door to Margaret's tent. She opened it, eyes wide. "Hawkeye! You're walking!"

I walked in, sitting carefully on her bunk while she watched. "Why do I feel like I'm 8 months old, and taking my first steps?" I asked, testing my ability to stand and sit. She laughed. "Does baby want a cookie?" she taunted jokingly. I began to retort, before remembering why I had come.

"Margaret, you need to be careful. Frank is trying to get enough evidence on Trapper and I. He knows you and Radar know something…just be careful. Try not to be alone with him at anytime. We're afraid he'll try to blackmail you – or worse, threaten you."

Having warned Margaret, I moved as fast as I could to Radar's office. Radar had been up and about for a week now, having recovered from our sniper party faster than me. "Radar," I called, automatically fearing the worst when he didn't appear before I called, as usual. He poked his head out from Potter's office. "What is it, sir?"

Ignoring his respectfulness, I spoke quietly, knowing Frank was still in Post – Op. "Look. Frank's trying to dig up stuff on Trap and I. He knows you know, so watch out for him. Don't be alone with him ever." He nodded slowly.

Two weeks later, Trapper was moved to the Swamp. I was almost fully recovered, my only problem my still sore ribs, and Trapper was progressing well. One evening, I was testing the latest gin batch, as Radar walked in. I remembered later that he didn't knock – rather uncharacteristic of him.

Trapper smirked as I choked and gasped on the gin. "Smooth." Radar tugged at my sleeve. "What's up, Radar? You're flushed. Spying in the nurse's showers again?" He shook his head quickly. "No. But Major Burns just went into Major Houlihan's tent…"

I had asked Radar to keep a watchful eye on Margaret, and Margaret to watch Radar. Jumping up from the cot, I raised a hand to stop Trapper, who was trying to stand. "I'll handle this. C'mon Radar."

Stopping outside the door, I listened carefully.

"Frank, I told you, it's over between us."

"I know that, and I understand that, but wouldn't it be nice to finally get those two perverts out of here?"

"Frank, Hawkeye and Trapper are my friends. I don't want them going anywhere."

"Fine. I'll get them by myself. Watch out, Margaret. I won't forget this."

The door banged open and Frank stormed out, barely leaving Radar and I time to duck behind some bushes. We rushed into the tent to find a tear – stained Margaret. She practically ran into my arms, sobbing into my chest. I cringed as she pressed herself against my still – healing ribs. "He's frightening me, Hawkeye."

"I know," I replied, stroking her hair. "Don't worry. It'll all be over soon."

Little did I know that it would all be over in a few short hours.

I returned to the Swamp, Trapper pestering me for details. As I rehashed what Frank had said, he grew angrier. "God damn him!" he snapped. Anger gone in a flash, he slumped against my chest. "I'm really getting tired of all this," he muttered quietly. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, my chin resting on his curls. Raising his head, his lips met mine for the first time in over a month. The kiss grew more heated, and hands started to roam, tugging at various pieces of clothing. Suddenly, a click and a bright flash startled us. Frank emerged from behind a chair. "Say cheese," he grinned.

He finally had the evidence he needed.

***TBC***

It's almost over! Only the epilogue is left, and that'll be up very soon. Please review!