We're nearing the finish! This is, unless I make any sudden changes, the penultimate chapter! I'm hoping to post the final chapter in the next couple of days - I'm leaving home on Sunday, and I suspect that if I don't get this done now, it could be months before I get around to it. Hope you're still enjoying this!

The final arrangements were made faster than ever before. Margaret was packed in a matter of hours and her leaving party, courtesy of BJ and Charles, was set up even faster. Even the last bits of paperwork had been filled out, in triplicate, relatively smoothly. There had been only once small complication

"The army's giving you a choice, Major," Colonel Potter had explained. "You can either recover in a vet hospital, or you can take some leave and rest up at home." This gave her pause. Spending her first weeks back in the States in some cold, strange hospital where she didn't know anybody was not her first choice.

"I'd like to take the leave time, please, Colonel." He'd nodded, making a note of it on the form.

"And for the army record…where exactly is home?" She froze at the question that had plagued her for so much of her life. 'Home' was a somewhat foreign concept to her. In fact, 'home' wasn't a concept to her at all. An answer leapt unbidden to her mind, and made it to her mouth before she could think it through.

"Maine." Colonel Potter looked up at her, frowning slightly.

"Margaret, are you sure-"

"Crabapple Cove, Maine." She wasn't going to get the chance to make her apology face to face. She only hoped he would get the message.

Hawkeye found himself almost disappointed to return to camp. Under any other circumstances, he would have laughed at that. Almost? Really? But this time was different. He'd been reluctant to leave in the first place, taking the pass really only to humour Colonel Potter. Hawkeye shook his head, a smile on his face. Well, turned out the man knew a thing or too after all. The time away had been, he'd discovered, exactly what he'd needed. He felt fresh and new. And ready to talk to Margaret.

He shut off the engine as he rolled into the compound, grabbed his suitcase from the backseat and headed for the Swamp. He opened the case to remove his towel and bathrobe, before heading for the showers.

He'd just finished soaping his chest when Radar rushed in, glancing anxiously around the tent as if he expected Hawkeye to be somewhere besides the shower stall.

"Radar. Radar!" He called to get the corporal's attention. "If you're looking for me, I'm here." It was the sort of comment that would usually warrant at least at least a mildly confused expression. Instead, the statement went ignored. There was a strange mix of emotion showing on the younger man's face: fear, sympathy, guilt… All of a sudden, he was overcome with a feeling of déjà vu. There was something about this scene…the showers, the soap…that expression… He shut the water off.

"Radar, what's up?" Radar swallowed nervously.

"Aw, geez! I'm sorry sir! There wasn't anything we could do, I swear!" Hawkeye placed his hand reassuringly on his friend's shoulder.

"Radar, slow down! C'mon, start from the beginning." Radar took a deep breath.

"It's Major Houlihan, sir." Hawkeye felt the fingers of his reassuring hand begin to tighten.

"Margaret? Did something happen to Margaret?" He couldn't help the note of desperation that reached his voice. Radar's eyes widened.

"Oh no sir! No! Nothing happened to her, she's fine and ok and-and…" Hawkeye frowned, feeling irritation starting to grow inside of him.

"So then…what?"

"She…when you were in Tokyo…she got her orders. Colonel says they were delayed. There wasn't enough time to… she had to leave this morning." Radar cautiously placed his hand on top of Hawkeye's. "I'm real sorry, Hawkeye." The feeling of déjà vu suddenly made sense, and Hawkeye was very glad that it was Radar giving him the news. He was the only other person in the camp who would recognise the situation.

"When did she leave?" He heard himself asking.

"'Bout an hour ago," Radar told him. Hawkeye almost smiled. It could be enough time. But was it worth chasing after her? He had decided to let what they used to have be; it was only during the last week that he'd realised that he just couldn't do that. Accosting her at the airport, however, was not the same as a quiet conversation in her tent. He didn't want to embarrass her, and he didn't want to upset her. Especially not when she was getting out of here – that should be a happy experience for her. Not one pulled down by old, unwanted memories. Radar seemed to notice his hesitation.

"Sir, there's more. She's not just going home. She's going to your home. Crabapple Cove, Hawkeye." This time Hawkeye really did smile. He could take a hint when he heard one.

"Whaddya say Radar? You up for it again?" Radar grinned.

"I already signed out a jeep for you." Hawkeye laughed, and, seeing as it seemed fitting, leaned over and kissed Radar's cheek.

"Aw, ick!" Radar complained, but half heartedly this time. Hawkeye laughed once more, and grabbed his towel, planning to get dressed faster than any man had dressed before.

The Korean countryside rushed by beside them, but neither Hawkeye nor Radar paid it any attention. Radar had both hands clenched around his seat, fearing for his very life. Hawkeye turned a faintly critical eye to the jeep's speedometer as he eased the gas pedal down a little more. Not for the first time, he found himself cursing army jeeps – you'd think in a warzone, speed would be of the essence, but based on the vehicles the 4077th had been given, that was apparently not the case. He wondered briefly what exactly they were designed for – they were slow, uncomfortable and rather pathetic, falling to pieces at a moment's notice. But a particularly sharp corner was coming up, so he turned his attention fully back to driving.

He heard Radar expel a breath as they just barely made it without skidding off the road.

"Hawkeye, maybe you oughta slow down, huh?" He asked tentatively. A hundred responses flew through Hawkeye's mind, some funny, some mocking, some cruel. Eventually he settled on the truth.

"I need to see her." Radar didn't comment again.

He stopped the jeep immediately outside of the departures, half-threw himself from the vehicle and pushed through the wooden door. A chuckle caught in his throat when he saw it was the same sergeant behind the desk as it had been last time he'd done this, back when Trapper… But he couldn't think of that. Not now, because last time he hadn't made it in time. This time he would. He had to. The sergeant was on the phone, and Hawkeye started to suspect that it was simply the man's default position. He was having, by the sounds of it, just as nonsensical conversation as before and probably to the same general, too. But that didn't matter, because this time Hawkeye knew exactly what he was looking for. He smoothly reached over the desk and around the other man and plucked the clipboard from the wall. The desk sergeant gave him a reproachful look, but other than that didn't pay him any attention.

Hawkeye flipped rapidly through the various pages of flight details, slicing his finger open in his hurry. It was as he instinctively raised his hand to his mouth in an attempt to soothe the cut that he found what he was looking for. His hand dropped to his side, pain forgotten. He felt his chest contract and for one horrible second found himself unable to breathe. And then the moment passed, leaving him dizzy and with a heavy feeling in his stomach.

"Ten minutes. She left ten minutes ago."