A/N: This story's almost over! Why? Well, if you haven't read OkobojiOddOne's AMAZING story, Missing Out, you should XD. It's basically the definitive Hawkeye-gets-Margaret-pregnant story, and I could never do mine better than hers, so there will be some time skipping in mine. I'm working on what HM story I'll do next…THANKS FOR READING!

Cold.

Miserable, terrible, desolate, wretched. Bitter wind crashed at Margaret from all directions as she waited for the plane. Hail pelted her, burning like needles against her skin. It was the type of cold one vacationing from Arizona feels in Wisconsin in the dead of January. It's more than cold, it's more than fear, it's torture. Wondering what frostbite feels like. Waiting for sun that will never come. Imagining a world without winter.

Margaret felt none of it.

"Ok, you can get on, Ma'am." The MP motioned to the plane, outweighed by the large airport building and runway.

Nodding, she walked towards the plane, her spirits lower than the temperature and her heart as frozen as the pavement.

"MARGARET!"

The voice, the inflection, not even her name or the sheer volume, but the voice, got Margaret to turn around. She tried, she forced herself to believe it wasn't him. If she believed it was him, if she allowed herself to have hope one last time, it would only crush her. That voice betrayed her, it lifted her hopes up as she dragged them back down, yet she turned around, because of the voice.

Hawkeye.

She sprinted on her fragile heels, letting her bags plunge to the ground as he hopped over the gate to meet her.

She collapsed into his arms.

"I'm sorry," He murmured into her neck, covering her with soft kisses. "I love you, I love you." His breath was hot against her skin, and his arms tightened around her waist, pressing her against him. If she closed her eyes, she could nearly imagine that they were in the states, perhaps by a fire, sitting on the couch, where she lay as he kissed her.

She held him tighter with every kiss, the soft sensation of his lips against her skin melting the meager amount of anger she still had with him. "I love you too, Hawk, I love you." He made it. Everything against them, everything holding them back, somehow, someway, though she was a little afraid to know how, he had made it to her.

The wind barreled across the pavement, colliding violently against them as they gripped each other for dear life. "I don't want to leave you," she murmured, pulling his lips to hers. The kiss was passionate, deep from the beginning as they clung to each other. He tasted of gin and determination as her lips bombarded his harder.

His hands went from her waist to her back to her hair as she gasped through the kiss for breath. "I love you." He could only murmur into her mouth, afraid that if he let her out of his arms, even for a moment, the war would snatch her away.

"Hey!" The piolet shouted from the window as the plane's engine roared like a tornado behind the pair. "We gotta go!"

Margaret pulled her lips from Hawkeye's, tears already soaking her uniform. "I'm sorry, I never should've…I don't know what I was thinking…"

He silenced her with another kiss, and she couldn't help but return it.

They were quite a sight, an MP noticed from where he was trying to get the pilot to buy them a few more minutes. The man was in his Army drab olive, shaggy and weary from whatever he had done to get to her. The woman was pristine, clean, graced in a neatly-pressed dark lavender dress uniform. Despite the difference, they could not have look more perfect standing together as he quietly comforted her. "Come on," the MP argued. "Give them a few minutes, what's gonna happen?"

The Piolet looked from him to the pair, and back again. With a sigh of defeat and relent, he nodded. "Fine. Three minutes, then you get her on the plane."

"It's gonna be ok, alright?" Hawkeye promised in hushed tones, wiping her tears away. "The war can't last forever."

"I don't want to leave you!" She had to battle against the roar of the engine to speak.

Hawkeye smiled softly. "I know. I don't want you to leave, but I have something that might make you feel better."

Margaret was comforted by even this small, miniscule promise he was making her. Whatever he was about to offer, she was going to take it.

The look on his face, the boyish, mischievous grin gave her shivers. "Margaret, I love you. And I know that we've had a lot of rough spots, but I can't live without you." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a black, velvet ring box, opening it to reveal a rose-gold ring with a simple diamond. "Margaret, will you marry me, one month and three days after I get back from the Korea?" A grin tugged at the corners of his lips, but he tried to hold it, watching as Margare'ts eyes glistened against the moonlight.

Her Prince Charming, the dream that she had dreamt since she was seven was finally here, in the form of Hawkeye Pierce, an undisciplined, unorderly, joking, womanizing, drinking Captain.

She wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yes, yes, Hawkeye, of course!" She grabbed the ring and slipped it on her finger, where it belonged. "I love you."

"Margaret, I didn't want to set a date because of the baby." He had to admit it right then and there. If he didn't, he would put it off. And if he put it off, he might never tell her, and he wouldn't do that to her again, no matter how his heart punched his mind for confessing such a terrible, shameful thing. "The baby isn't mine. I…I don't know how to be a father to a kid, much less one that isn't mine." The build-up of unrelenting anxiety choked through his voice.

Leaning forward, she forgave him with a full, soft kiss.

"Hawkeye, I wouldn't want any other father for our baby."

Something inside hi, whatever bug that had eaten away at his frayed nerves, finally sat in the corner, where it belonged. He sighed a, "Thank you," under his breath, more relief and emotion clouding his voice than Margaret ever wanted to hear again. He lifted his gaze to her and gently kissed her. "I love you."

Whatever they had gone through, no matter how painful, as she rested in his embrace, it was worth it. Margaret linked her arms around his neck and kissed him harder. It was miniscule in comparison to how much time she wanted to make up to him, but in the moment, all she needed was him. "I love you too."

"COME ON!"

The tender moment shattered against the runway, and the calm wave over her eyes rushed into a bloodshot panic. "I can't leave you." Margaret's mind, ripped in two different directions, shouted at her heart to just run off with Hawkeye, to run off with her hero to a faraway land.

Hawkeye saw the indecision in her face. She wanted to stay, and he knew that if they really tried, if they ran fast enough, hid well enough, they could go back to the 4077th, even go AWOL. But…he couldn't do that to her. He loved her too much to do that. "You have to."

Before she could protest, he had his lips softly, gently, pressed against hers. "I love you, ok?"

"I love you too."

She kissed him, hard and full, one last time before drawing back. She couldn't meet his eyes as she tore form his hands towards the plane. The pavement nipped at her through her boots, and her stomach ached with terror, anxiety, guilt, every horror-stricken emotion bit her for leaving her love.

Turning around, she stood on the frost-bitten steps of the plane and looked out to Hawkeye, standing patiently.

He was heartbroken. How could she leave him like this? How could she leave, knowing that he was going back to the war, alone and afraid, while she sat in the States by the fire, safe from harm?

Her feet inched towards him, but he knew what she was thinking, and like a knight, wouldn't let her go back to the danger. "I love you, Margaret." His words were a barrier, yelled out to her as a way of protecting her form coming any closer to him and the war. He was entangled with the war, if she had him, she had to have the war.

He was waiting for a response, she knew. If she replied, she left. If she said nothing, well, she didn't know, because she had to go. That was the cruelty in disguise; she felt as though she had some choice in the matter when she had none.

"I love you!"

She would not cry.

With on last, longing look at his sapphire eyes, she broke away and stepped into the plane.

From there, fate could not be held back, the plane took off in a matter of moments, and Margaret could only watch as the image of her fiancé grew smaller and smaller, then vanished.

Would she ever see him again?