Disclaimer: I have no rights to the show.

A/N: I want to thank my friends Amber and Jennifer for going over this story and editing it for me. This chapter does contain several references to different episodes.

Chapter 2:

Hawkeye got to his feet and offered his hand to help Margaret to hers, but she slapped it away.

"You've done enough," she growled as she got to her feet on her own.

"This isn't my fault! The embankment gave away or did you forget that when you hit your head?" He raised his voiced and heard it reverberate in the small cave that protected them from the outside elements.

"If you hadn't concocted Tuttle then neither of us would be here!" She shouted which, like his voice, resonated around them, but much louder.

"Tuttle would have never materialized if it hadn't been for this stupid war!"

"The war has nothing to do with your lies!" She yelled louder at him.

"Will you shut up!? Or do you want all of Korea to hear you!?" He asked as he motioned around the cave.

His eyes now looked around the cave for the first time. When he had first run inside, it was in order to get Margaret to safety. Now that danger was temporarily behind them, he truly noticed how small the cave was and how deep it went back. He felt his heart start to race, his throat tightening, and he suddenly felt the need to drink something from his still.

"Pierce?" Margaret asked quietly hoping not to startle him.

He made eye contact with her and opened his mouth to speak but it felt like it was full of cotton. "Your claustrophobia?" She asked, and he could only nod. She placed her hand on his arm and told him to stay as she went over to the medical bag that he had brought. Kneeling down she opened it and searched for what she knew B.J. or him would have placed in the bag before leaving for this disastrous trip. She found the flask at the bottom of the bag. Grabbing it she got to her feet and walked back over to him.

"Drink."

He nodded as he grabbed the flask from her hand and twisted the top off before taking a big gulp of the lighter fluid liquor that he and B.J. had made. He silently thanked B.J. for placing the flask in the bag before he left.

"Feeling better?" She studied him closely. She recalled a moment when he had disclosed to her of another time in a cave very much like this that he had claustrophobia and he wasn't okay until they were back at camp. Their current situation was worse as they had no mode of transportation and walking in this weather wasn't an option.

"We need to get out of here," Pierce twisted the cap back on the flask and handed it back to Margaret and began to pace around the cave. He headed towards the entrance and looked out. The jeep was still smoldering near the tree and the mud didn't give any clues of escape other than his footprints leading into the cave. Lightening lit up the sky, and the rolling thunder that followed indicated the storm was further off.

"If we start walking now, we can avoid the thunder and lightening before it's right above us," he told her as she moved to stand by him. He noticed her shiver as she viewed where the lightening was occurring.

"Where do you think we can go?" She questioned as she jumped at another lightning strike, followed closely by a clap of thunder.

"We can walk, it's just a little rain," he rambled on as the rain seemed to mock him and began pouring outside.

"You were saying?" She asked as another clap of thunder sounded. It reverberated loudly in the cave making her jump even more. Pierce had been pacing up and down, looking out each time he found himself back at the entrance of the cave.

"Will you stop pacing!" She screamed at him. He stilled at the cave entrance and looked at her.

"Why?" He questioned annoyed that she had told him to stop. "Not like we can go anywhere Major so unless you have another suggestion I'm going to-"he stopped as he looked her and saw her shaking.

"Margaret," he whispered as he walked over to her. "It will be okay," he told her as he pulled her into his arms. He winced at the movement and she pushed him back but still within in arm's length.

"You need to let me look at your stomach," she slipped into nurse mode faster than Klinger slipping into a dress to get a section eight.

"Enough, take off your shirt," she ordered him as she crossed her arms across her chest.

"Never thought you would ask Major," he smiled and removed his jacket and handed it to her. "If I knew all it took was getting you into a cave, I would have done it a long time ago," he continued as he unbutton his Hawaiian shirt and then removed it.

"Your jacket has a tear in it Captain," she pointed at the tear that was in the area of the right shoulder.

"That's army clothing for you, always tearing us a new one," he retorted as he slipped off his Hawaiian shirt, where he noticed a stain on the back of it.

"Will you stop it with the jokes?" She asked as she grabbed the Hawaiian shirt that he held out. She held it out at arm's length, "Don't you ever wash this thing?"

"Nah, that would ruin the memories," he responded as he lifted his army issue shirt over his head, he heard her gasp as he finished removing his shirt. Looking down he saw the beginnings of several bruises across his ribs. There was no doubt that as time progressed the bruises would form a minor impression of the steering wheel he collided with during their crash.

Margaret handed his clothing back to him before taking a step closer to his chest and examining the marks. "You should get X-rays done when we get back, if we get back," she added as an afterthought touching the bruises. He winced in obvious discomfort but allowed her to continue. "Turn around," she ordered so she could look at his right shoulder that he had mentioned was hurt. He complied and turned around.

"So? Like what you see?" He asked jokingly before she reached out and touched his shoulder, he whelped as her fingers came across his shoulder.

"I think you have a special relationship with wood," she told him. "There's a small piece of wood embedded inside your shoulder."

He tried to look over his shoulder to see any parts of the wound, then a thought dawned on him. Dropping is jacket he looked over at his Hawaiian shirt. What he thought was a stain, in actuality, was blood from his wounded shoulder and, to his disappointment, there was a tear in his beloved Hawaiian shirt.

"And there goes all those memories," he told her as he dropped the shirt to the ground. "Klinger will be disappointed."

"What?" Margaret asked confused as she picked up the discarded shirt and jacket, he waved her off and motion her to follow him over to his medical bag. She returned his jacket but kept the Hawaiian shirt in her hands.

"Pull out the piece of wood and then put on the dressing before we lose anymore light," he took a seat on the ground facing away from her. She placed the Hawaiian shirt in the bag and then bent down focusing his shoulder.

"Do you want-"

"Don't start pushing the morphine Margaret just fix it," he gritted through his teeth.

"Because that worked out so well for you last time," she told him as she began to pull out the items she needed from the medical bag. "This will sting," she warned before she grabbed the bottle of alcohol and poured some on his wound. He yelled as he had done in the hut when they were stuck behind enemy lines. That felt like a lifetime ago. She waited for him to quiet down before taking the forceps in her hand and then using them to pull on the piece of wood. He screamed again in agony as she twisted the piece of wood trying to get it out.

"Take the damn thing out Margaret!"

"Stop squirming so I can get a grip on it," she told him as he still shifted around in pain. Tired of his movement she stopped momentarily. When he did finally stop moving, she pushed him roughly on the ground, his stomach and chin finding the cold ground beneath him. He felt Margaret place her knee into his back rendering him unable to move except his legs and arms.

"Margaret is this really necessary?" He voiced his displeasure as he shifted his head to lie flat on the ground. She ignored his comment and went to work once again with the forceps to pull out the piece of wood. In this position she had more control over him and could finally get a good enough grip to pull out the embedded piece of wood.

"If you stopped moving or even taken that damn morphine then you could have avoided this situation," she scolded him as she reached her hand into to the bag grabbing the 3.0 silk and a small towel. Looking down at him she stated, "Final chance."

"Fine!" He told her more annoyed and in more pain from having the ground touching his already sore ribs.

"You will feel better," she told him as she lowered the 3.0 silk onto the towel. She reached in the bag, feeling for the morphine bottle and syringe. She filled the syringe with the correct amount of morphine, then got a small pad, putting alcohol on it. She rubbed the pad against a spot on his good shoulder, then inserted the needle, and injected the morphine into his body. She placed the needle on the towel and slowly removed her knee from his back. She wanted to wait for the morphine to take effect before working on his shoulder.

"Sorry."

"It's fine, I always knew you secretly liked to wrestle," he told her as he sat back up. He ran his fingers through his now dirty hair before looking over at his shoulder, "just finish it up, okay?"

She nodded and reached for the silk, so she could once again close the wound and place a bandage on it. This time he winced but there was no yell and he didn't move from his spot in front of her. "You can put your shirt back on," she told him as she placed the silk and unused bandages back in the bag. She then placed the needle with the used bandage and wrapped it in the small towel that was in the bag and placed the item back inside the bag.

"Want to see if Potter by a chance packed some food in the box?" She asked quietly as she got to her feet and walked over to the box. She opened it and looked around to see what Potter had given the orphanage. There were medical supplies of course, two blankets, and a couple cans of peaches. She grabbed one of the cans and a blanket before walking back over to where Hawkeye was. He had already tugged his shirt back on and was pulling on his jacket as she took a seat next to him.

"Peaches," she told him as she handed him the can. "We can use the blankets as it gets colder. There is another can of peaches in the box if we needed it. He nodded and pulled on the tab to open the can of peaches.

"These are small peaches and look like they have been through worse situations then us," he told her as he looked inside can. "Got a fork?"

"Unless you packed one in your bag, no," she told him as she took the can from his hands and used her fingers to reach in and pull out one of the slices of peaches. Popping it into her mouth she chewed it quietly.

"How is it?" He asked her as he took back the can, sniffing it.

"Better than the mess tent food," she told him after she sallowed. He used his fingers and pulled out a slice, tossing it into his mouth.

"You lied," he told her as he finished swallowing the slice. "It's just as bad as the mess tent, probably surplus from WW2," he took out another piece passing the can back.

"Think they will be looking for us soon?" She asked as she took another piece.

"Hopefully. I don't want to spend the night in a cold damn cave," he told her truthfully. The weather had just begun to turn cold and with the storm raging around them, the night wouldn't be pleasant by any means. The next few moments were filled with silence as they exchanged the can of peaches back and forth, emptying it's contents. Placing the can on the ground next to him, Pierce scooted until his back came against the wall. Leaning his head back, he sighed softly.

"Feeling better?" She asked him as she noticed the exhaustion in his face. He had gotten a decent amount of sleep the night before, but the days events had already taken its toll on him.

"Just tired," he closed his eyes and listened to the rain outside, the thunder seemed to have moved on a little but the rain was still pouring.

"I hate morphine," he told her suddenly." I hate how it makes me feel, I hate not being in control of my body."

"You were in pain," she reminded him as she also moved back against the cave wall.

"Rather be in pain than not in control," he whispered.

"Then why did you take the shot?"

"Because you told me to," he muttered half asleep. She smiled to herself before grabbing the blanket she had brought over and laid it over him. He was softly snoring by the time she had tucked it in around him. Getting to her feet she headed to the opening of the cave and looked out. They weren't going anywhere in this rain. They could walk out if the rain eased, but she wasn't sure where they were. For all she knew they were once again behind enemy lines. Pulling her jacket more tightly around her she looked up and prayed that Potter had gotten a call that they never made it to the orphanage.

"Wanted to see us?" B.J. asked as he and Charles entered the Colonel's office. Potter was sitting behind his desk and Klinger was standing next to him. Father Mulcahy was seated in front of Potter's desk and there were two empty chairs next to him.

"Yes, and close the door," he told them quietly. B.J. closed the door and he and Charles took the two empty seats in front of the desk. "I have some news."

"What's wrong?" B.J. asked, worried as thoughts raced through his head about his friend. "Something happen to Hawk and Margaret?"

"The orphanage let us know that they never showed up," Potter told them before sighing. "I had Klinger contact I-Corps and they said the surrounding area has had mud slides. They have no access, so they can't send a party out to look for them."

"What about a spotter plane?" B.J. asked. It had worked previously in allowing them to find out what area Hawk and Margaret were in.

"The weather around the area is dangerous and they have grounded everyone until the storm disperses. But that isn't why I called you in."

"What is it?" Father Mulcahy asked quietly.

"A spotter plane located the explosion of a jeep before being forced to land. He got a look at the jeep and it was one of ours." He told them in a near whisper. The entire room was quiet as they listened to him.

"The jeep was in the same area that Hawk and Margaret were in?" B.J. asked already knowing the answer.

"Yes, son," Potter replied softly.

"Well, we can take a jeep and search for them ourselves," B.J. told Potter as he got to his feet.

"Hunnicutt, I can't allow you to go."

"Colonel they could be hurt," B.J. argued as he walked towards the door. "I'm going."

"You will not go and that is an order!" Potter yelled as he got to his feet. He took a deep breath before continuing. What he was about to say would not go over well with any of them.

"The area around the orphanage will be under heavy fire within the next few hours."

To be continued