She was falling. Everything around her seemed to be crumbling at her feet, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She had never felt this way before, not once; never so out of control. Never so vulnerable.

Margaret tucked a stray wisp of blonde hair back into her surgical cap and closed her eyes. She was sitting by the door just inside Post-Op, counting the minutes until she had to go back to the OR. They had been in surgery for nearly twelve hours, fighting for the lives of several boys who had been severely wounded on the front lines. So far, they had only lost one. Margaret had been there the entire time, but Colonel Potter had seen the drawn look on her face and suggested that she take a break. Just a few minutes, he'd told her, just long enough to let her catch her breath. Margaret leaned her head back and rested it against the wall. The colonel had no idea just how badly she'd needed this break.

She was losing it. Really losing it. She had always been so strong, so ready-for-anything, but now... she felt as if she was coming unglued. The pieces didn't fit anymore. During an operation, she could barely keep it together well enough to hand one of the doctors a scalpel. It was ridiculous, really, but no matter where she was or what she was doing, her mind seemed to wander. She couldn't stop thinking about him. Hawkeye. She was falling for him, and she was falling fast.

The squeek of someone opening the Post-Op door prompted her to open her eyes. Seeing who it was, she smiled.

Looking a little worse for wear but handsome all the same, Hawkeye Pierce walked slowly into the room. Margaret's smile faded when she saw just how worn out he looked. He had gotten thinner, she thought, during the past few weeks, and the slight hollowness in his cheeks attested to what little sleep he had been getting. It was a firmiliar look, though; as much as she hated to admit it, it perfectly mirrored her own.

"Hey," he said softly. He stopped the motion of the door with his hand, and sank down onto the bench next to her.

"Hey yourself." She studied him for a moment before going on. "How is it in there?"

He sighed. "Just about the same as when you left. Just about the same as always. A bunch of kooks in scrubs trying to save the kids that are dying in front of them."

"Oh, Hawkeye...."

He leaned over and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "It's all right. We've gotten though tough situations before. It's just that... I don't know."

She bit her lip. "It's just that what?"

Hawkeye shook his head and placed his hand on top of hers. "Nothing."

The door creaked open a little, and Colonel Potter stuck his head through the space. "Hate to break up the party, kids, but we've got our hands full in here." He studied Margaret worriedly. "You all right to come back now? We really need you."

Margaret nodded. "Of course, Colonel. I'm fine." She stood up.

"You too, Pierce," Potter said. "Wasn't much of a break, I know, but...."

"It's okay, Colonel." Hawkeye stood and pulled his mask back over his mouth. "We'll be there in a second."

Potter smiled wearily before disappearing back into the OR.

Margaret sighed. "We'd better get back." She looked tiredly up at Hawkeye. "I don't know if I'm ready for this." She wasn't quite sure what she meant.

He seemed to understand. "It's okay," he whispered. Silently, he followed her through the door and back into the sea of operating tables.

Three long and nerve-wracking hours ticked by before everyone was finally able to leave the OR. During those three hours they had lost another one of the soldiers, a kid with sandy-colored hair who couldn't have been over eighteen. Margaret had tried to hold back the tears that flooded her eyes after she lost his heartbeat, but she just wasn't strong enough. Hawkeye had been there next to her, gripping her hand so tight that it hurt. Their eyes never met, but she could tell that he was crying, too.

When the last of the patients had been settled into Post-Op, the exhausted doctors and nurses wandered slowly away. Margaret tried to follow, but she was unable to leave. Maybe it was fatigue, maybe it was sadness, maybe it was something else, but she found herself slumped in a chair next to one of the empty beds, paralyzed. She sat like that for a long time, the gruesome scenes from the OR playing over and over again in her mind. BJ's face when he announced that the sandy-haired kid was going to be okay; BJ's face when he realized that he wasn't; the face of the young soldier as he lay dying before Margaret's eyes. And another face, Hawkeye's, still and quiet as tears rolled down his cheeks. Margaret sighed. It was that last image that hurt her the most.

Her thoughts were broken by the sound of someone's voice. Dully, she turned around, and there was Hawkeye, standing next to the door behind her. He was still wearing his surgical gown, and she realized that he had probably been there with her the entire time. She gazed at him sadly.

"How long have you been standing there?" she whispered.

He shrugged. "I wanted to leave when everyone else did, but... I couldn't."

She nodded. "Neither could I."

"That was one hell of a day."

"Yeah," she agreed. Her voice was almost inaudible.

Slowly, he crossed the room, his boots creaking along the floor. She let out a long breath as he sat down on the empty bed.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked.

"When?"

"When you were just sitting here before. When you thought you were alone."

The face of the sandy-haired kid sprung into her mind again, followed by the image of a silently crying Hawkeye. She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. "Lots of things."

He scooted closer to her chair and rested his hand on her knee. "Thinking about that soldier?"

She looked at him tentatively. "Yeah."

"So was I." He sighed. "Come sit down here with me."

She slid out of her chair and sank down onto the bed. Silently, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. "I wish it didn't have to be like this," he whispered.

Margaret nodded. "I know. I wish the world didn't have to be like this. I wish my life didn't have to be like this." She closed her eyes, and a single tear ran down her cheek. "I wish our lives didn't have to be like this."

"Our lives?"

"Uh-huh."

He pulled her closer. "There's one good thing about this war, though."

She stared at him. "What's that?"

"If this war hadn't happened, and we hadn't been sent to Korea, I probably never would've met you."

She closed her eyes again, unable to stop the tears that were spilling down her cheeks. The one good thing Hawkeye could find about the war was that he had met her. In that moment, Margaret knew that she had never loved anyone the way she loved him. She was sure she never would. But suddenly, as she clung to him and let him pull her into his arms, she thought of something that she had never considered before: when the war was over, they would go their separate ways... and she would never see him again.

Author's Note: This is chapter one... please review and tell me what you think. Thanks.