Sorry for LONG Delay...here's chapter fourteen.
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Margaret seemed to stop breathing, the walls were beginning to close in around her. If she lost him now, she'd die right there. He was her strength, her rock, her lover, and best friend. Margaret couldn't, and refused to picture living a day without him. Potter could feel her sharp nails digging tensely into his shoulder as they waited in total anxiety. The entire room sat in silence, anxiously waiting for BJ to inform them on their chief surgeon's condition. "Well son," Potter urged him on, "Go ahead, get on with it." BJ lowered his head and looked grimly around the room before addressing the crowd.
"Like I said," BJ started, "There's something you should know." Colonel Potter felt Margaret's grip tighten ever more so on his shoulder.
"Will you spit it out already for heaven's sake!" He yelled, he couldn't stand it anymore. BJ realized then that he had to get to the point.
Finally he said, "He lost a lot of blood, but I think he's going to be fine." At the same time everyone in the room seemed to expel an elongated breath. Margaret nearly collapsed when she heard the news and began to sob immediately.
"That's wonderful!" Father Mulcahy cheered, the rest of the group followed suit.
"Now wait a minute, he's still not out of the woods yet," BJ told them sternly, he wanted to make himself clear. "Like I said, he's lost a lot of blood. Instantly the room quieted, things suddenly weren't that cheery after all. "I just gave him the last of his type," he told them quietly, "We need to find a match for a transfusion."
Margaret clutched Colonel Potter again, her heart took another nose dive. "What type is he?" The older man asked.
"A Positive."
Suddenly there was an eruption behind him, "I'm A Positive!" Margaret screamed, "Oh BJ, you've got to let me do the transfusion!"
BJ was a little taken back by her eagerness, but then again he would have been just as willing. "Of course you can, but we have to hurry." Margaret released Colonel Potter and jumped up to follow BJ and a silent Charles into Post OP.
Woefully she was led by BJ to a bed in the far right corner of the ward. Margaret's heart was beating in her throat rapidly with every step she took. She wasn't prepared to see him in the condition he was facing, but it was something she had to do. Without seeing him with her own eyes, knowing he would pull through, she wouldn't believe he was fine.
And suddenly there he was, lying on the cot in front of her. His torso was completely covered and wrapped in bandages at least a few layers thick, but she could make out faint hints of blood and puss already seeping through the dressing. He looked in awful condition, his face and body were pale and sweaty. Scratches and bruises showed on his arms and upper chest, but his face didn't look too bad. He still looked as adorable as ever, if not more.
Margaret sat on the cot beside his while BJ and Kellye collected the necessary things for the transfusion. She picked up his cold hand and held it between her own. Silently she kissed it and then moved to push his hair out of his face. He looked so sweet like that, slumbering quietly. Many times she'd like awake and watch him, but she preferred her bed to one in Post OP.
"Okay Margaret, lay back," BJ was suddenly beside her, she hadn't even heard him walk over. She followed his directions, her eyes still on her love. Kellye located a large vein on the inside of her elbow and disinfected the area as BJ tied a rubber tube around her forearm. "You're going to feel the stick, but the pain will be quick. I'm just going to..."
"BJ," she looked over at him, "I know how this goes."
He smiled up at her absent mindedly, "Right."
Margaret closed her eyes when she felt the tip of the large needle penetrate the skin and work it's way into her arm. After a few seconds BJ taped it in place and then hooked up the bottle beside the bed. "He's going to be fine, thanks to you," he smiled down at her.
"It's nothing," she told him. It really wasn't, giving blood was the least thing she could do for him.
"Well just think," he said to her as he tested the drip, "Now you're apart of him." Margaret smiled back, that was a nice thought. He sat down beside her and picked up Hawkeye's chart.
"Is there anything I should know?" She asked him, her voice full of concern.
"I managed to get the bullet out," he told her as he flipped through the pages, "It was really lodged in far."
"Thank God you did."
"Don't I know it. But it was fairly big, you'd have to be blind not to find it." Margaret gulped, she hated to think about it. "I've got it soaking in alcohol at the moment."
"You mean you kept it?!" She protested.
"Yeah," BJ grinned, "I thought he'd be interested when he awoke."
"I'd prefer otherwise," she told him. "It's bad enough that he almost died, but to keep the thing that almost did it?" She was slightly angry.
"Relax Margaret, you're working yourself up. I need you to stay calm, you are giving blood after all," he pointed out. Margaret looked down at her arm where the tube was carrying blood away and to the bottle. She watched as it traveled into Hawkeye's arm, relief washed over her.
"He's going to be alright," she whispered barely audible enough for him to hear.
"Yes he is," BJ smiled as the two watched their friend. "He's very stable. Especially now with this blood, thanks to you."
Margaret smiled, "I just wish I could do more."
"But you can, he's going to need one fantastic nurse."
"I think I can handle that," she laughed lightly.
"Then I think I'm inclined to tell you," he said, "That you're getting a very easy patient. I'm very impressed at how well he's taking this. I think you'll notice as well."
"Like what?"
"Well for starters, I didn't have to intibate him. He's breathing rather well considering," BJ pointed out. "I only had to catheterize him for the moment." Margaret noticed, she could see the tube running along the sheet and then down to a bottle hanging from the bed, it was partially filled with urine already. "Although I'm not sure how much he's going to appreciate it when he wakes up." Margaret chuckled, she knew he wouldn't like it at all.
"When do you think that will be?" She asked BJ as she watched Hawkeye sleep.
"Probably tomorrow or the day after. He didn't get much sleep I'm assuming at the front, plus I used a lot of medication and gas on him to get him under. That was a nasty wound."
Margaret winced at the thought, "Please, don't remind me. It's hard enough accepting he's lying in Post OP as it is."
BJ understood where she was coming from; they never imagined something like that would happen to Hawkeye, "I know how you feel."
"But he's going to be okay..." Margaret said half opptemisticly and half in question.
"I'm afraid so," played around, "Looks like you're still going to have to put up with his crude jokes and obnoxious behavior for a while longer."
Margaret smiled dreamily, "I wouldn't want it any other way."
BJ, being the blind man that he was, didn't notice that her affections as well as her gaze grew much deeper than he thought. To him, she was just a worried friend, when in reality she was lovesick over the man in the next bed. "How are you feeling?" He asked her, "Lightheaded at all?"
Margaret was feeling the exact opposite, her heart was heavy with worry. "No, none," she replied in a monotone voice.
"Good, I reckon he just needs another pint or two." BJ made sure the needles were both still properly inserted in each of their arms. "The color is beginning to come into his face," BJ pointed out. Margaret looked over to see his cheeks were slightly pink. She smiled to herself. After a moment he said, "Who's the nurse on duty tonight? I want to make sure it's someone who's going to watch him. I'd do it myself, but I'm dead on my feet as it is."
"I am," Margaret replied with a small smile which BJ did not see. She would be able to be with him all night, just what they both needed.
"Wonderful," BJ smiled. "No offence to you and your nurses, but I wanted someone good. Not just good, but damn good."
Margaret smiled, she wasn't offended at all. "Then it looks like you've got the right person then."
"Don't I know it," he grinned. BJ glanced at the tubing once more, "I think we're good here."
"Is that all?" She asked, it didn't seem like she gave a lot.
"Just the perfect amount, thank you Margaret." BJ began to pull the needle from her arm.
Margaret wanted to tell him how it was nothing at all, just the love that she felt towards that man in the bed beside them. She wanted to confide in BJ and tell him how worried she was for his life and their future together. Margaret needed someone to tell her feelings and secrets too, a person who listened to her heart. But there was only one person who'd ever been able to do that for her, and at that moment he was unconscious.
****
"Margaret, could you come over here for a moment?" BJ beckoned her to his side. He was sitting beside Hawkeye's bed, examining his wound. "No signs of infection so far, though I'm still finding small amounts of puss on the dressing. Let's start him on penicillin right away."
"Yes doctor, Kellye..." Kellye brought over a bottle of penicillin and hooked him up to the IV. He hadn't awoken yet, but last night while Margaret was holding his hand, she felt him slightly squeeze it once or twice. BJ stood up and moved over to the next bed, "Will you two make sure he gets cleaned up?"
The two women looked at each other, they'd never been shy about giving soldier's sponge baths before, but this was different. Margaret wasn't embarrassed about seeing him naked, as she had so many times, it was about Kellye seeing him. All he was wearing at the moment was a sheet and blanket, his clothes had been removed before surgery. "Well, uh.." Margaret stammered, she didn't know what to say.
"Second though, Kellye would you come over here and help me clean this wound?" BJ asked before she had time to say something.
"Yes doctor," Kellye told him as she walked over to him. Margaret let out a sigh and smiled, at least she wouldn't have to worry about any of the nurses seeing him.
Margaret washed him the best she could, scrubbing his arms and face. His chest was stitched and covered with bandages so she had to leave that alone. She managed to scrub his feet and legs of the dried blood and even to shave him. All in all, it was a very difficult job, there were so many tubes protruding from his body that it made it harder than usual.
He mumbled and muttered for most the morning in a haze, while tossing and turning in his sleep. His temperature had gone up, much to Margaret's disappointment and he looked rather peaked. After taking his temperature, they discovered he'd reached an astounding one hundred and three degrees. "Post Operative Infection?" BJ confirmed with a worried nod to Colonel Potter later on that day.
"That's what I'm thinking as well." Colonel Potter had his chin resting in the palm of his hand in confusion. "Well whatever it is, we need to cool him down. His body temperature is rather high, I'd hate for it to get worse."
It's hard to be professional and proficient when the person you love it sick. Margaret's head was spinning; she was having trouble thinking. A hand touched her shoulder, bringing her back to life. "Huh?" She asked blindly as she turned to see who had touched her.
Colonel Potter was sadly gazing at her, he knew she was worried. "He's going to be fine Margaret," he whispered in a soft voice, BJ didn't know about them yet. Margaret nodded solemnly. "It's just a normal infection, nothing to worry about. I need you, no, he needs you to be sharp."
"I know," she told him as she lowered her gaze from his. Margaret felt embarrassed; he had read her like an open book.
"Right now we need to focus on getting his temperature lowered," Potter was trying to capture her eyes again.
"Yes, you're right Colonel," Margaret stammered loudly as she straitened up into her major pose. Her voice was strong and confident.
"We're going to need lots of ice, we're going to use the same method we used on Klinger." They weren't whispering anymore.
"Yes sir, I'll get on that right away," she pulled out of his grasp and went to find some ice. A little while later they had multiple bags of ice covering Hawkeye's sweltering body. Margaret placed a damp cloth on his forehead, but not before she moved to kiss him. He was still feeling a little feverish, but better than he had been before.
Margaret sat in Post OP for the rest of the day. Occasionally she checked on other patients, but she was never far from Hawk. It was around mid day while she was taking his temperature that BJ, Charles, and Potter burst into the room. "How high is it?" BJ asked, referring to the thermometer she held in her hand.
"One hundred," she smiled happily. The ice had really helped.
"Praise the Lord," Colonel Potter breathed.
"That's wonderful, I was hoping it would be down before we moved him," BJ said.
"What? Move him?" Margaret looked from one to the other. "I don't understand."
Colonel Potter explained, "We just got a call, we're getting lots of wounded. So many in fact, we're having to give up tents for the extras."
"Oh no," Margaret sighed.
"So we're going to need to get him out of here. We're using the Swamp for casualties as well as the VIP tent," Charles burst in.
"Then where are we going to put him?" She asked cluelessly.
"Well Margaret..." BJ was skeptical, he didn't think she'd agree. After all, he didn't know they had been seeing each other and assumed she had hated him as much as ever. "We were thinking your tent," he held his breath, waiting for her screech.
Margaret's eyes lit up, "Of course he can stay in my tent!" Her excitement seemed to scare Charles and BJ. "It's perfect!"
"That's what we were thinking. It's quiet and he would be able to rest," BJ explained. "Not to mention, he'd have someone to watch him during the night." He never thought how that sounded, Margaret and him in her tent alone together. No one worried about it though, he was sick and needed care.
"Well then what are we waiting for boys?" Colonel Potter asked. "We'd better get him in there before the wounded arrive."
"Yeah," BJ agreed. "Can we get a litter over here?" He called to a nurse. After a few moments one was brought into the room and Hawkeye was hoisted on. "Careful, careful...Winchester, watch it!"
"Hunnicutt, if you don't shut up right this moment..." Charles threatened.
"Boys..." the Colonel warned.
They prepared a cot in Margaret's tent and then lifted him on. Potter and Charles went to fetch the rest of his supplies while Margaret and BJ situated him. Hawkeye started to mumble in his sleep again and unconsciously made a grab for her, squeezing her rear, "Oh baby..." he muttered. Margaret's face turned bright red and she gasped, pushing his hand away. Embarrassed she looked at BJ, who was ready to burst into laughter.
"Now Margaret," he kidded, "He's injured. Don't go killing over something he had no control over," he said between giggles. In fact it was the opposite way around, Margaret wasn't angry that Hawkeye had grabbed her, she was just worried as to what BJ was thinking.
She pretended to be angry, "He's just lucky he's unconscious!" She barked. BJ laughed again. Margaret pretended to fume as she fixed his blanket, but she was really trying hard not to laugh as well.
"ATTENTION, ATTENTION, ALL PERSONEL, INCOMING WOUNDED."
"Come on, let's go," BJ said as he moved towards the door. "We'll get someone to come in and watch him." Margaret made sure Hawkeye was comfortable and then turned to follow BJ. She looked at his sleeping form one last time and then walked out into the compound.
Latter that night Margaret moved her bed next to Hawkeye's. He'd woken up once while she was gone, briefly opening his eyes and questioning the nurse sitting with him. By the time she'd returned, he was asleep again. If Hawkeye woke up in the middle of the night, she wanted to be right there beside him.
Margaret cupped her hand over his and held it tightly. She curled up beside him, careful not to touch his chest. Lazily she ran her fingers through his hair and talked to him softly as she nuzzled his ear. Hopefully if he knew she was there, everything would be all right.
Her plan seemed to work somewhat; Hawkeye didn't mutter and toss in his sleep. He laid completely still so the only movement between them was their breathing. Margaret fell asleep with her face buried into the side of his neck.
Hawkeye stirred beside her, but Margaret took no notice. Their makeshift bed was warm and quiet; the day had not yet started. She slumbered on as the man beside her opened his eyes and began to move.
At first he didn't understand where he was, but soon he felt her beside him and knew everything was fine. She was lying on her side with her face pressed under his outstretched arm and the blankets shielding her.
Hawkeye wanted to move, but he found it was rather difficult. Between the blankets and the bandages and Margaret, he felt like he was suffocating. He proceeded to sit up regardless of the now stabbing pain in his side.
His wound seared furiously, causing Hawkeye to clutch his side. He sat on the edge of the bed, taking deep breaths. The IV tube pulled with every movement he made with his hand as he searched blindly for something to support him. Eventually, over come with frustration and pain, he pulled the needle from his hand. Finally, he was free to stand up.
A warm hand touch his naked shoulder, causing him to halt. She moved closer to him as she sat up. "Where are you going?" She asked him softly in the dark.
"I couldn't breathe," he told her, his voice full of pain.
"Here," her hand moved around and pulled him gently down. He obeyed and allowed her to return him to his back. "I don't need you to pull those stitches just yet. Please, just rest."
Hawkeye let out a breath, "I know." He looked at the ceiling.
"Do you need me to get you something? I can tell you're in pain," she whispered into his ear.
"No, I just need to feel you next to me." His hand moved out to touch her. Margaret snuggled closer.
"I'm not hurting you am I?" She asked him cautiously.
"No."
"Tell me when I do," she told him. She settled down next to him again. "You really had me worried you know," she said as her fingers traced the skin at the top of his chest, just above the dressing. "I was so worried I was going to lose you." Her voice was shaky.
Hawkeye seemed to chuckle, "I told you, you're going to have to try a lot harder to get rid of me."
"Pierce, I'm serious. You almost died back there," she was becoming even more upset.
"Well so am I," he sounded confident. Margaret let out an exasperated breath, she knew he wasn't going to let up.
"Just remember, I'll kill you if anything ever happens to you again," she mumbled into his skin.
"I know honey," he rubbed her arm.
****
The next day BJ and Colonel Potter returned to Margaret's tent to check on their Chief Surgeon. They were delighted to find he was awake. Hawkeye was very anxious to get out of the tent, he wanted some fresh air. After the catheter was removed (Which Hawkeye found very unpleasant) they dressed him in a pair of pajama pants that were given to all patients. With the help of all three people, Hawkeye managed to climb into the wheel chair.
"I'm not sure I like this," Margaret confided to BJ. "It's too early for him to be up."
BJ agreed, "Under normal circumstances I would object, but seeing as who he is..."
"But still, he's not well BJ. Don't you think it will hurt him?"
"No, in fact it might do him some good."
"Fine, but not too long," she told all three of them sternly. Margaret didn't want anything bad to happen to him, he was still very weak.
There was a knock on the door then. Kellye emerged into the room. "Doctors, it's Private Wilson, he's going into cardiac arrest."
"Sorry Margaret," BJ said to her, "Can you handle him on your own?"
"Get out of here!" Hawkeye yelled. With that BJ and the Colonel left Margaret's tent.
Margaret looked at Hawkeye, "Is there anywhere special you wanted to go?"
"Yes, I'd like to stop by the latrine."
"Very well," she pushed him out into the compound. With some difficulty Hawkeye managed himself into the stall. "Are you okay in there?!" Margaret shouted as she waited outside.
"Yes Margaret, I'm fine!" He yelled back.
"Are you sure? Do you need help?"
"I think I can take a piss by myself!" He shouted again, he was a little agitated. Margaret sighed and sat down in his wheel chair while she waited. Sometimes it took a while in these sorts of situations, the medication made it difficult to urinate. Finally after some time he emerged, looking more relaxed.
"I take it that it went well?" She asked as she stood up and helped him into the chair.
"Yes," he said.
"Good. Was there anywhere else you wanted to go?"
"Maybe for a little ride, but not far. I'd like to lie down." He sounded tired.
"Of course honey." She pushed him around the compound once and then brought him back to her tent where she helped him into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow he fell asleep. Margaret kissed the top of his head and then left him to sleep in peace.
****
Hawkeye lay perfectly still with his head tilted back, enabling him to look at the ceiling. BJ was cutting open his dressing for the first time since the infection had disappeared and he didn't want to watch. "Hey, that doesn't look half bad!" BJ exclaimed happily as he pulled back the bandages. It had been about a two weeks since the incident.
"It's healing very nicely," Margaret rejoiced as she sat beside BJ.
"Having any pain Hawk?" BJ asked him.
"Some, but not like I was having before," he replied with his eyes still glued on the green canvas.
"Good," BJ said. "Margaret, why don't you clean him up and I'll be back a bit later. I'm due in Post OP." BJ stood up and looked at his friend. "You're out of the woods now buddy."
Hawkeye looked at him and smiled, "Thanks Beej." He held out his hand. The other man shook it.
"I'll see you two later," BJ then left the tent.
Margaret pulled on a pair of surgical gloves as she prepared to cleanse his torso. Hawkeye noticed this and asked, "What are you putting those on for?"
"So there is no contamination," she told him flatly.
"But I don't have anything, I'm clean," he told her as he watched her prepare some soap and hot water. "We've been having sex for the past six months, sometimes unprotected."
Margaret eyed him, "I know. I was there remember?"
"Then why are you worried?"
"I don't want to get you sick, germs on my hands infecting your wound," she pointed out.
"Ah, that's right. I forgot."
"Just lay back, this might feel a little uncomfortable." She started to clean his torso with a wet, soapy cloth. Hawkeye gasped as the warm water on his skin. "Is that okay?" She said as she avoided the sutures.
"Yeah..." he breathed. After a moment he said, "Speaking of our previous conversation, I can't wait."
"Can't wait for what?" She was concentrating on the task at hand. There was dried blood on his stomach that wasn't coming off.
"You know," he said happily.
"Know what?"
"What I want to do," he smiled at her. Margaret finally got his drift and looked at him was large eyes.
"Oh no. Not for a while," she told him while shaking a soapy finger.
"It's been three weeks honey," he told her, his voice falling.
Margaret continued to scrub, "I know it's been three weeks. You're just going to have to hold off for a couple more."
"You know something?" He asked lazily.
"What?" She was still working hard.
"You're beautiful in rubber gloves." Margaret turned and gave him a 'You better shut up' look while giving him the eye. "It's the truth," he smiled. Margaret rolled her eyes.
She wrung the cloth she had been using in a pale of hot water and proceeded to wipe him down. Margaret lifted his arms and gave him a full upper body sponge bath, working on his chest and shoulders. After she had cleaned him, she pulled out an antibiotic ointment and began to apply it to his wound. When that was finished she covered it with a smaller bandage.
Margaret stood up and snapped her gloves off, she threw him the cloth. "You can do your lowers."
Hawkeye caught it before it hit his face, "You're taking all the fun out of having a sponge bath you know," he complained.
Margaret grinned evilly, "I know." She picked up the pale and other items. "Can I get you anything?"
"Yeah, another nurse." He told her off, sounding disappointed.
"Shut up," she threw another cloth at him. Hawkeye stuck out his tongue and laughed. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down beside him. "What are you doing?" She asked.
"Kissing you," he said simply before pulling her over and giving her a vital kiss. Margaret leaned in, deepening it. It had been so long since they had done something remotely like that. She could feel her fears and passions expelling as they kissed. Finally she pulled away, he was too ill to carry this on any further.
"I'm due in Post OP," she said softly before touching his soft lips once more with her own. He kissed her back lightly. "I'll be back later."
"Okay." They kissed again. Reluctantly Margaret pulled away from his embrace and left for Post OP.
Hawkeye was held up in bed for another week. Three weeks after the incident, he seemed to be almost as good as new. He insisted he was ready to return to operating, much to Margaret's dismay. Hawk tired easily and would get flashes of pain every once in a while, but he dismissed it and pushed Potter to let him get back in to surgery.
The first few days were rough on him, but as time went on things got easier. Every night he'd be the first one to fall asleep and the last one to awaken the next morning. Then one evening, while Margaret was brushing her hair, he walked up behind her.
He caught her off guard, kneeling beside her and kissing her passionately before she could get out any means of objection. The next thing she knew, they were lying sprawled out across her bed.
Hawkeye was lying on his back as her head rested on his stomach. She ran a finger across the scar on his side as his hand stroked her soft hair. "I missed this," she told him softly.
"I did too," his hand continued on.
"I was so afraid we'd never get the chance to do it again," her voice trembled softly.
"So did I," he was staying calm.
"Baby, I saw you carried into the operating room, soaked with blood. I was so scared."
"I know sweetie, so was I, but I'm alright."
Margaret clutched him tighter, as if he was going to disappear. She breathed in his sent and smiled against him. "I love you, you know that?"
"I love you too." His hand moved down to her naked back.
"Promise me you'll never leave me."
"I promise." Margaret smiled in satisfaction and finally fell sleep with her arms wrapped tightly around him. Hawkeye grinned into the darkness.
****
It was a couple days later when he walked into the mess tent with a wide grin spread across his face. Margaret, BJ, Charles, Father Mulcahy, and Colonel Potter were having their evening meal at a near by table. "You seem happy Hawk," BJ observed. "What's the occasion?" He asked as Hawkeye made his way over to him.
Hawkeye smiled again. Not answering the other man's question he said, "You'll see." He walked over to Margaret and held out his hand.
"What?" She asked, he was acting strangely. Hawkeye emphasized his intention by shaking his hand.
"Come on," he gestured again, he smile spreading.
Margaret took his offered hand, "Pierce, what are we doing?" Hawkeye pulled her to her feet and led her into the center of the mess tent. Most of the camp was eating supper. They all turned to look at them.
Hawkeye held her hand tightly as he turned to face her, "Give me a minute," he told her.
"Pierce what the...do you want everyone to start asking questions?" Hawkeye raised his eyebrows.
"Can I have everyone's attention please!" Hawkeye said loudly so the attention of the whole tent was on them. "Now I'm sure you're all wondering why were standing here in front of you all. I assure you there's a good reason," he told them. "First, I'd like to thank each and every one of you for your sympathy and help during this difficult time. My gratitude is overwhelming and I am deeply touched by your understanding and caring, I don't believe there are enough words to express my thanks. But the person I would like to thank the most," Hawkeye's eyes shifted then, "Is this lovely woman standing beside me." All eyes turned to Margaret, including Hawkeye's. "She's helped me through it all, she's been my rock, and not just during these past couple weeks, but for three solid years." Charles and BJ looked at one another. "I wouldn't be here without her," Hawkeye was talking more to Margaret than the crowd, "She's been everything to me, everything that's come to matter in my life. I don't think I could live a day without her by my side." The whole mess tent was throwing each other bewildered glances, no one had the slightest idea what was going on. "That's why," Hawkeye said, that smile spreading across his face again. He got down onto one knee, "I was wondering if she'd do me the honor of becoming my wife." At that moment he pulled a small black box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal a diamond ring. Margaret gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. BJ and Charles looked as though they might collapse as Colonel Potter began to cry. The whole tent was stunned, no one said a word as they waited to hear her reply.
Hawkeye looked at her eagerly, his eyes full of love. Margaret couldn't believe what he had just said, and in front of the whole mess tent too. Finally she found her voice, "I...I..."
TO BE CONTINUED....
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Please review and let me know what you think Margaret's reply should be. I still haven't decided if she should decline or say 'Yes'. Hated or loved it? Let me know.
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Margaret seemed to stop breathing, the walls were beginning to close in around her. If she lost him now, she'd die right there. He was her strength, her rock, her lover, and best friend. Margaret couldn't, and refused to picture living a day without him. Potter could feel her sharp nails digging tensely into his shoulder as they waited in total anxiety. The entire room sat in silence, anxiously waiting for BJ to inform them on their chief surgeon's condition. "Well son," Potter urged him on, "Go ahead, get on with it." BJ lowered his head and looked grimly around the room before addressing the crowd.
"Like I said," BJ started, "There's something you should know." Colonel Potter felt Margaret's grip tighten ever more so on his shoulder.
"Will you spit it out already for heaven's sake!" He yelled, he couldn't stand it anymore. BJ realized then that he had to get to the point.
Finally he said, "He lost a lot of blood, but I think he's going to be fine." At the same time everyone in the room seemed to expel an elongated breath. Margaret nearly collapsed when she heard the news and began to sob immediately.
"That's wonderful!" Father Mulcahy cheered, the rest of the group followed suit.
"Now wait a minute, he's still not out of the woods yet," BJ told them sternly, he wanted to make himself clear. "Like I said, he's lost a lot of blood. Instantly the room quieted, things suddenly weren't that cheery after all. "I just gave him the last of his type," he told them quietly, "We need to find a match for a transfusion."
Margaret clutched Colonel Potter again, her heart took another nose dive. "What type is he?" The older man asked.
"A Positive."
Suddenly there was an eruption behind him, "I'm A Positive!" Margaret screamed, "Oh BJ, you've got to let me do the transfusion!"
BJ was a little taken back by her eagerness, but then again he would have been just as willing. "Of course you can, but we have to hurry." Margaret released Colonel Potter and jumped up to follow BJ and a silent Charles into Post OP.
Woefully she was led by BJ to a bed in the far right corner of the ward. Margaret's heart was beating in her throat rapidly with every step she took. She wasn't prepared to see him in the condition he was facing, but it was something she had to do. Without seeing him with her own eyes, knowing he would pull through, she wouldn't believe he was fine.
And suddenly there he was, lying on the cot in front of her. His torso was completely covered and wrapped in bandages at least a few layers thick, but she could make out faint hints of blood and puss already seeping through the dressing. He looked in awful condition, his face and body were pale and sweaty. Scratches and bruises showed on his arms and upper chest, but his face didn't look too bad. He still looked as adorable as ever, if not more.
Margaret sat on the cot beside his while BJ and Kellye collected the necessary things for the transfusion. She picked up his cold hand and held it between her own. Silently she kissed it and then moved to push his hair out of his face. He looked so sweet like that, slumbering quietly. Many times she'd like awake and watch him, but she preferred her bed to one in Post OP.
"Okay Margaret, lay back," BJ was suddenly beside her, she hadn't even heard him walk over. She followed his directions, her eyes still on her love. Kellye located a large vein on the inside of her elbow and disinfected the area as BJ tied a rubber tube around her forearm. "You're going to feel the stick, but the pain will be quick. I'm just going to..."
"BJ," she looked over at him, "I know how this goes."
He smiled up at her absent mindedly, "Right."
Margaret closed her eyes when she felt the tip of the large needle penetrate the skin and work it's way into her arm. After a few seconds BJ taped it in place and then hooked up the bottle beside the bed. "He's going to be fine, thanks to you," he smiled down at her.
"It's nothing," she told him. It really wasn't, giving blood was the least thing she could do for him.
"Well just think," he said to her as he tested the drip, "Now you're apart of him." Margaret smiled back, that was a nice thought. He sat down beside her and picked up Hawkeye's chart.
"Is there anything I should know?" She asked him, her voice full of concern.
"I managed to get the bullet out," he told her as he flipped through the pages, "It was really lodged in far."
"Thank God you did."
"Don't I know it. But it was fairly big, you'd have to be blind not to find it." Margaret gulped, she hated to think about it. "I've got it soaking in alcohol at the moment."
"You mean you kept it?!" She protested.
"Yeah," BJ grinned, "I thought he'd be interested when he awoke."
"I'd prefer otherwise," she told him. "It's bad enough that he almost died, but to keep the thing that almost did it?" She was slightly angry.
"Relax Margaret, you're working yourself up. I need you to stay calm, you are giving blood after all," he pointed out. Margaret looked down at her arm where the tube was carrying blood away and to the bottle. She watched as it traveled into Hawkeye's arm, relief washed over her.
"He's going to be alright," she whispered barely audible enough for him to hear.
"Yes he is," BJ smiled as the two watched their friend. "He's very stable. Especially now with this blood, thanks to you."
Margaret smiled, "I just wish I could do more."
"But you can, he's going to need one fantastic nurse."
"I think I can handle that," she laughed lightly.
"Then I think I'm inclined to tell you," he said, "That you're getting a very easy patient. I'm very impressed at how well he's taking this. I think you'll notice as well."
"Like what?"
"Well for starters, I didn't have to intibate him. He's breathing rather well considering," BJ pointed out. "I only had to catheterize him for the moment." Margaret noticed, she could see the tube running along the sheet and then down to a bottle hanging from the bed, it was partially filled with urine already. "Although I'm not sure how much he's going to appreciate it when he wakes up." Margaret chuckled, she knew he wouldn't like it at all.
"When do you think that will be?" She asked BJ as she watched Hawkeye sleep.
"Probably tomorrow or the day after. He didn't get much sleep I'm assuming at the front, plus I used a lot of medication and gas on him to get him under. That was a nasty wound."
Margaret winced at the thought, "Please, don't remind me. It's hard enough accepting he's lying in Post OP as it is."
BJ understood where she was coming from; they never imagined something like that would happen to Hawkeye, "I know how you feel."
"But he's going to be okay..." Margaret said half opptemisticly and half in question.
"I'm afraid so," played around, "Looks like you're still going to have to put up with his crude jokes and obnoxious behavior for a while longer."
Margaret smiled dreamily, "I wouldn't want it any other way."
BJ, being the blind man that he was, didn't notice that her affections as well as her gaze grew much deeper than he thought. To him, she was just a worried friend, when in reality she was lovesick over the man in the next bed. "How are you feeling?" He asked her, "Lightheaded at all?"
Margaret was feeling the exact opposite, her heart was heavy with worry. "No, none," she replied in a monotone voice.
"Good, I reckon he just needs another pint or two." BJ made sure the needles were both still properly inserted in each of their arms. "The color is beginning to come into his face," BJ pointed out. Margaret looked over to see his cheeks were slightly pink. She smiled to herself. After a moment he said, "Who's the nurse on duty tonight? I want to make sure it's someone who's going to watch him. I'd do it myself, but I'm dead on my feet as it is."
"I am," Margaret replied with a small smile which BJ did not see. She would be able to be with him all night, just what they both needed.
"Wonderful," BJ smiled. "No offence to you and your nurses, but I wanted someone good. Not just good, but damn good."
Margaret smiled, she wasn't offended at all. "Then it looks like you've got the right person then."
"Don't I know it," he grinned. BJ glanced at the tubing once more, "I think we're good here."
"Is that all?" She asked, it didn't seem like she gave a lot.
"Just the perfect amount, thank you Margaret." BJ began to pull the needle from her arm.
Margaret wanted to tell him how it was nothing at all, just the love that she felt towards that man in the bed beside them. She wanted to confide in BJ and tell him how worried she was for his life and their future together. Margaret needed someone to tell her feelings and secrets too, a person who listened to her heart. But there was only one person who'd ever been able to do that for her, and at that moment he was unconscious.
****
"Margaret, could you come over here for a moment?" BJ beckoned her to his side. He was sitting beside Hawkeye's bed, examining his wound. "No signs of infection so far, though I'm still finding small amounts of puss on the dressing. Let's start him on penicillin right away."
"Yes doctor, Kellye..." Kellye brought over a bottle of penicillin and hooked him up to the IV. He hadn't awoken yet, but last night while Margaret was holding his hand, she felt him slightly squeeze it once or twice. BJ stood up and moved over to the next bed, "Will you two make sure he gets cleaned up?"
The two women looked at each other, they'd never been shy about giving soldier's sponge baths before, but this was different. Margaret wasn't embarrassed about seeing him naked, as she had so many times, it was about Kellye seeing him. All he was wearing at the moment was a sheet and blanket, his clothes had been removed before surgery. "Well, uh.." Margaret stammered, she didn't know what to say.
"Second though, Kellye would you come over here and help me clean this wound?" BJ asked before she had time to say something.
"Yes doctor," Kellye told him as she walked over to him. Margaret let out a sigh and smiled, at least she wouldn't have to worry about any of the nurses seeing him.
Margaret washed him the best she could, scrubbing his arms and face. His chest was stitched and covered with bandages so she had to leave that alone. She managed to scrub his feet and legs of the dried blood and even to shave him. All in all, it was a very difficult job, there were so many tubes protruding from his body that it made it harder than usual.
He mumbled and muttered for most the morning in a haze, while tossing and turning in his sleep. His temperature had gone up, much to Margaret's disappointment and he looked rather peaked. After taking his temperature, they discovered he'd reached an astounding one hundred and three degrees. "Post Operative Infection?" BJ confirmed with a worried nod to Colonel Potter later on that day.
"That's what I'm thinking as well." Colonel Potter had his chin resting in the palm of his hand in confusion. "Well whatever it is, we need to cool him down. His body temperature is rather high, I'd hate for it to get worse."
It's hard to be professional and proficient when the person you love it sick. Margaret's head was spinning; she was having trouble thinking. A hand touched her shoulder, bringing her back to life. "Huh?" She asked blindly as she turned to see who had touched her.
Colonel Potter was sadly gazing at her, he knew she was worried. "He's going to be fine Margaret," he whispered in a soft voice, BJ didn't know about them yet. Margaret nodded solemnly. "It's just a normal infection, nothing to worry about. I need you, no, he needs you to be sharp."
"I know," she told him as she lowered her gaze from his. Margaret felt embarrassed; he had read her like an open book.
"Right now we need to focus on getting his temperature lowered," Potter was trying to capture her eyes again.
"Yes, you're right Colonel," Margaret stammered loudly as she straitened up into her major pose. Her voice was strong and confident.
"We're going to need lots of ice, we're going to use the same method we used on Klinger." They weren't whispering anymore.
"Yes sir, I'll get on that right away," she pulled out of his grasp and went to find some ice. A little while later they had multiple bags of ice covering Hawkeye's sweltering body. Margaret placed a damp cloth on his forehead, but not before she moved to kiss him. He was still feeling a little feverish, but better than he had been before.
Margaret sat in Post OP for the rest of the day. Occasionally she checked on other patients, but she was never far from Hawk. It was around mid day while she was taking his temperature that BJ, Charles, and Potter burst into the room. "How high is it?" BJ asked, referring to the thermometer she held in her hand.
"One hundred," she smiled happily. The ice had really helped.
"Praise the Lord," Colonel Potter breathed.
"That's wonderful, I was hoping it would be down before we moved him," BJ said.
"What? Move him?" Margaret looked from one to the other. "I don't understand."
Colonel Potter explained, "We just got a call, we're getting lots of wounded. So many in fact, we're having to give up tents for the extras."
"Oh no," Margaret sighed.
"So we're going to need to get him out of here. We're using the Swamp for casualties as well as the VIP tent," Charles burst in.
"Then where are we going to put him?" She asked cluelessly.
"Well Margaret..." BJ was skeptical, he didn't think she'd agree. After all, he didn't know they had been seeing each other and assumed she had hated him as much as ever. "We were thinking your tent," he held his breath, waiting for her screech.
Margaret's eyes lit up, "Of course he can stay in my tent!" Her excitement seemed to scare Charles and BJ. "It's perfect!"
"That's what we were thinking. It's quiet and he would be able to rest," BJ explained. "Not to mention, he'd have someone to watch him during the night." He never thought how that sounded, Margaret and him in her tent alone together. No one worried about it though, he was sick and needed care.
"Well then what are we waiting for boys?" Colonel Potter asked. "We'd better get him in there before the wounded arrive."
"Yeah," BJ agreed. "Can we get a litter over here?" He called to a nurse. After a few moments one was brought into the room and Hawkeye was hoisted on. "Careful, careful...Winchester, watch it!"
"Hunnicutt, if you don't shut up right this moment..." Charles threatened.
"Boys..." the Colonel warned.
They prepared a cot in Margaret's tent and then lifted him on. Potter and Charles went to fetch the rest of his supplies while Margaret and BJ situated him. Hawkeye started to mumble in his sleep again and unconsciously made a grab for her, squeezing her rear, "Oh baby..." he muttered. Margaret's face turned bright red and she gasped, pushing his hand away. Embarrassed she looked at BJ, who was ready to burst into laughter.
"Now Margaret," he kidded, "He's injured. Don't go killing over something he had no control over," he said between giggles. In fact it was the opposite way around, Margaret wasn't angry that Hawkeye had grabbed her, she was just worried as to what BJ was thinking.
She pretended to be angry, "He's just lucky he's unconscious!" She barked. BJ laughed again. Margaret pretended to fume as she fixed his blanket, but she was really trying hard not to laugh as well.
"ATTENTION, ATTENTION, ALL PERSONEL, INCOMING WOUNDED."
"Come on, let's go," BJ said as he moved towards the door. "We'll get someone to come in and watch him." Margaret made sure Hawkeye was comfortable and then turned to follow BJ. She looked at his sleeping form one last time and then walked out into the compound.
Latter that night Margaret moved her bed next to Hawkeye's. He'd woken up once while she was gone, briefly opening his eyes and questioning the nurse sitting with him. By the time she'd returned, he was asleep again. If Hawkeye woke up in the middle of the night, she wanted to be right there beside him.
Margaret cupped her hand over his and held it tightly. She curled up beside him, careful not to touch his chest. Lazily she ran her fingers through his hair and talked to him softly as she nuzzled his ear. Hopefully if he knew she was there, everything would be all right.
Her plan seemed to work somewhat; Hawkeye didn't mutter and toss in his sleep. He laid completely still so the only movement between them was their breathing. Margaret fell asleep with her face buried into the side of his neck.
Hawkeye stirred beside her, but Margaret took no notice. Their makeshift bed was warm and quiet; the day had not yet started. She slumbered on as the man beside her opened his eyes and began to move.
At first he didn't understand where he was, but soon he felt her beside him and knew everything was fine. She was lying on her side with her face pressed under his outstretched arm and the blankets shielding her.
Hawkeye wanted to move, but he found it was rather difficult. Between the blankets and the bandages and Margaret, he felt like he was suffocating. He proceeded to sit up regardless of the now stabbing pain in his side.
His wound seared furiously, causing Hawkeye to clutch his side. He sat on the edge of the bed, taking deep breaths. The IV tube pulled with every movement he made with his hand as he searched blindly for something to support him. Eventually, over come with frustration and pain, he pulled the needle from his hand. Finally, he was free to stand up.
A warm hand touch his naked shoulder, causing him to halt. She moved closer to him as she sat up. "Where are you going?" She asked him softly in the dark.
"I couldn't breathe," he told her, his voice full of pain.
"Here," her hand moved around and pulled him gently down. He obeyed and allowed her to return him to his back. "I don't need you to pull those stitches just yet. Please, just rest."
Hawkeye let out a breath, "I know." He looked at the ceiling.
"Do you need me to get you something? I can tell you're in pain," she whispered into his ear.
"No, I just need to feel you next to me." His hand moved out to touch her. Margaret snuggled closer.
"I'm not hurting you am I?" She asked him cautiously.
"No."
"Tell me when I do," she told him. She settled down next to him again. "You really had me worried you know," she said as her fingers traced the skin at the top of his chest, just above the dressing. "I was so worried I was going to lose you." Her voice was shaky.
Hawkeye seemed to chuckle, "I told you, you're going to have to try a lot harder to get rid of me."
"Pierce, I'm serious. You almost died back there," she was becoming even more upset.
"Well so am I," he sounded confident. Margaret let out an exasperated breath, she knew he wasn't going to let up.
"Just remember, I'll kill you if anything ever happens to you again," she mumbled into his skin.
"I know honey," he rubbed her arm.
****
The next day BJ and Colonel Potter returned to Margaret's tent to check on their Chief Surgeon. They were delighted to find he was awake. Hawkeye was very anxious to get out of the tent, he wanted some fresh air. After the catheter was removed (Which Hawkeye found very unpleasant) they dressed him in a pair of pajama pants that were given to all patients. With the help of all three people, Hawkeye managed to climb into the wheel chair.
"I'm not sure I like this," Margaret confided to BJ. "It's too early for him to be up."
BJ agreed, "Under normal circumstances I would object, but seeing as who he is..."
"But still, he's not well BJ. Don't you think it will hurt him?"
"No, in fact it might do him some good."
"Fine, but not too long," she told all three of them sternly. Margaret didn't want anything bad to happen to him, he was still very weak.
There was a knock on the door then. Kellye emerged into the room. "Doctors, it's Private Wilson, he's going into cardiac arrest."
"Sorry Margaret," BJ said to her, "Can you handle him on your own?"
"Get out of here!" Hawkeye yelled. With that BJ and the Colonel left Margaret's tent.
Margaret looked at Hawkeye, "Is there anywhere special you wanted to go?"
"Yes, I'd like to stop by the latrine."
"Very well," she pushed him out into the compound. With some difficulty Hawkeye managed himself into the stall. "Are you okay in there?!" Margaret shouted as she waited outside.
"Yes Margaret, I'm fine!" He yelled back.
"Are you sure? Do you need help?"
"I think I can take a piss by myself!" He shouted again, he was a little agitated. Margaret sighed and sat down in his wheel chair while she waited. Sometimes it took a while in these sorts of situations, the medication made it difficult to urinate. Finally after some time he emerged, looking more relaxed.
"I take it that it went well?" She asked as she stood up and helped him into the chair.
"Yes," he said.
"Good. Was there anywhere else you wanted to go?"
"Maybe for a little ride, but not far. I'd like to lie down." He sounded tired.
"Of course honey." She pushed him around the compound once and then brought him back to her tent where she helped him into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow he fell asleep. Margaret kissed the top of his head and then left him to sleep in peace.
****
Hawkeye lay perfectly still with his head tilted back, enabling him to look at the ceiling. BJ was cutting open his dressing for the first time since the infection had disappeared and he didn't want to watch. "Hey, that doesn't look half bad!" BJ exclaimed happily as he pulled back the bandages. It had been about a two weeks since the incident.
"It's healing very nicely," Margaret rejoiced as she sat beside BJ.
"Having any pain Hawk?" BJ asked him.
"Some, but not like I was having before," he replied with his eyes still glued on the green canvas.
"Good," BJ said. "Margaret, why don't you clean him up and I'll be back a bit later. I'm due in Post OP." BJ stood up and looked at his friend. "You're out of the woods now buddy."
Hawkeye looked at him and smiled, "Thanks Beej." He held out his hand. The other man shook it.
"I'll see you two later," BJ then left the tent.
Margaret pulled on a pair of surgical gloves as she prepared to cleanse his torso. Hawkeye noticed this and asked, "What are you putting those on for?"
"So there is no contamination," she told him flatly.
"But I don't have anything, I'm clean," he told her as he watched her prepare some soap and hot water. "We've been having sex for the past six months, sometimes unprotected."
Margaret eyed him, "I know. I was there remember?"
"Then why are you worried?"
"I don't want to get you sick, germs on my hands infecting your wound," she pointed out.
"Ah, that's right. I forgot."
"Just lay back, this might feel a little uncomfortable." She started to clean his torso with a wet, soapy cloth. Hawkeye gasped as the warm water on his skin. "Is that okay?" She said as she avoided the sutures.
"Yeah..." he breathed. After a moment he said, "Speaking of our previous conversation, I can't wait."
"Can't wait for what?" She was concentrating on the task at hand. There was dried blood on his stomach that wasn't coming off.
"You know," he said happily.
"Know what?"
"What I want to do," he smiled at her. Margaret finally got his drift and looked at him was large eyes.
"Oh no. Not for a while," she told him while shaking a soapy finger.
"It's been three weeks honey," he told her, his voice falling.
Margaret continued to scrub, "I know it's been three weeks. You're just going to have to hold off for a couple more."
"You know something?" He asked lazily.
"What?" She was still working hard.
"You're beautiful in rubber gloves." Margaret turned and gave him a 'You better shut up' look while giving him the eye. "It's the truth," he smiled. Margaret rolled her eyes.
She wrung the cloth she had been using in a pale of hot water and proceeded to wipe him down. Margaret lifted his arms and gave him a full upper body sponge bath, working on his chest and shoulders. After she had cleaned him, she pulled out an antibiotic ointment and began to apply it to his wound. When that was finished she covered it with a smaller bandage.
Margaret stood up and snapped her gloves off, she threw him the cloth. "You can do your lowers."
Hawkeye caught it before it hit his face, "You're taking all the fun out of having a sponge bath you know," he complained.
Margaret grinned evilly, "I know." She picked up the pale and other items. "Can I get you anything?"
"Yeah, another nurse." He told her off, sounding disappointed.
"Shut up," she threw another cloth at him. Hawkeye stuck out his tongue and laughed. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down beside him. "What are you doing?" She asked.
"Kissing you," he said simply before pulling her over and giving her a vital kiss. Margaret leaned in, deepening it. It had been so long since they had done something remotely like that. She could feel her fears and passions expelling as they kissed. Finally she pulled away, he was too ill to carry this on any further.
"I'm due in Post OP," she said softly before touching his soft lips once more with her own. He kissed her back lightly. "I'll be back later."
"Okay." They kissed again. Reluctantly Margaret pulled away from his embrace and left for Post OP.
Hawkeye was held up in bed for another week. Three weeks after the incident, he seemed to be almost as good as new. He insisted he was ready to return to operating, much to Margaret's dismay. Hawk tired easily and would get flashes of pain every once in a while, but he dismissed it and pushed Potter to let him get back in to surgery.
The first few days were rough on him, but as time went on things got easier. Every night he'd be the first one to fall asleep and the last one to awaken the next morning. Then one evening, while Margaret was brushing her hair, he walked up behind her.
He caught her off guard, kneeling beside her and kissing her passionately before she could get out any means of objection. The next thing she knew, they were lying sprawled out across her bed.
Hawkeye was lying on his back as her head rested on his stomach. She ran a finger across the scar on his side as his hand stroked her soft hair. "I missed this," she told him softly.
"I did too," his hand continued on.
"I was so afraid we'd never get the chance to do it again," her voice trembled softly.
"So did I," he was staying calm.
"Baby, I saw you carried into the operating room, soaked with blood. I was so scared."
"I know sweetie, so was I, but I'm alright."
Margaret clutched him tighter, as if he was going to disappear. She breathed in his sent and smiled against him. "I love you, you know that?"
"I love you too." His hand moved down to her naked back.
"Promise me you'll never leave me."
"I promise." Margaret smiled in satisfaction and finally fell sleep with her arms wrapped tightly around him. Hawkeye grinned into the darkness.
****
It was a couple days later when he walked into the mess tent with a wide grin spread across his face. Margaret, BJ, Charles, Father Mulcahy, and Colonel Potter were having their evening meal at a near by table. "You seem happy Hawk," BJ observed. "What's the occasion?" He asked as Hawkeye made his way over to him.
Hawkeye smiled again. Not answering the other man's question he said, "You'll see." He walked over to Margaret and held out his hand.
"What?" She asked, he was acting strangely. Hawkeye emphasized his intention by shaking his hand.
"Come on," he gestured again, he smile spreading.
Margaret took his offered hand, "Pierce, what are we doing?" Hawkeye pulled her to her feet and led her into the center of the mess tent. Most of the camp was eating supper. They all turned to look at them.
Hawkeye held her hand tightly as he turned to face her, "Give me a minute," he told her.
"Pierce what the...do you want everyone to start asking questions?" Hawkeye raised his eyebrows.
"Can I have everyone's attention please!" Hawkeye said loudly so the attention of the whole tent was on them. "Now I'm sure you're all wondering why were standing here in front of you all. I assure you there's a good reason," he told them. "First, I'd like to thank each and every one of you for your sympathy and help during this difficult time. My gratitude is overwhelming and I am deeply touched by your understanding and caring, I don't believe there are enough words to express my thanks. But the person I would like to thank the most," Hawkeye's eyes shifted then, "Is this lovely woman standing beside me." All eyes turned to Margaret, including Hawkeye's. "She's helped me through it all, she's been my rock, and not just during these past couple weeks, but for three solid years." Charles and BJ looked at one another. "I wouldn't be here without her," Hawkeye was talking more to Margaret than the crowd, "She's been everything to me, everything that's come to matter in my life. I don't think I could live a day without her by my side." The whole mess tent was throwing each other bewildered glances, no one had the slightest idea what was going on. "That's why," Hawkeye said, that smile spreading across his face again. He got down onto one knee, "I was wondering if she'd do me the honor of becoming my wife." At that moment he pulled a small black box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal a diamond ring. Margaret gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. BJ and Charles looked as though they might collapse as Colonel Potter began to cry. The whole tent was stunned, no one said a word as they waited to hear her reply.
Hawkeye looked at her eagerly, his eyes full of love. Margaret couldn't believe what he had just said, and in front of the whole mess tent too. Finally she found her voice, "I...I..."
TO BE CONTINUED....
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Please review and let me know what you think Margaret's reply should be. I still haven't decided if she should decline or say 'Yes'. Hated or loved it? Let me know.