2

"So?" Daniel asked as he stepped in, holding Ben, Jr.

"So what?" the happy parents said in unison, and laughed.

"Is it a grandson or granddaughter?" he asked and stroked the newborn's cheek ever so gently. He had the same gentle, loving hands as his son.

"You now see before you a grandchild of the fairer sex, who I hope the coarser sex stays away from," he joked.

"What are you going to name her?" he asked.

Hawkeye stared into Margaret's loving eyes and answered, "Margaret. Maggie for short."

"Maggie," he repeated. "Can't you guys come up with any original names? Benjamin and Margaret, Ben and Maggie. You have no imagination," Daniel jested, and smiled at his new granddaughter, asleep in his daughter-in-law's arms.

Hawkeye was driving home from his clinic where he worked. Margaret was still home on maternity leave, and he had seen more patients than he should have. He just did not have the heart to tell people that it either had to be an emergency or they had to have an appointment. He was a doctor; he could not turn someone away who wanted medical help. He shook his head as if to clear away the cobwebs. He was bone-tired, but he could not wait until he got home. His father, Ben, Maggie, and Margaret would be waiting for him as they always did.

He allowed his mind to drift for a moment. He could not wait for the welcome homecoming he inevitably got, with the talk about what went on during the day, what they were feeling, and what new thing Ben had done. Ben was learning something new every day. He awoke from his daydream when a car horn's screech pierced the air. Tires squealed, headlights blinded him, and then there was blackness.

"Doctor! Doctor!" Sidney yelled. Sidney had been keeping a constant vigil over Hawkeye since he had stopped stirring at their voices. Earlier, he had at least seemed to hear them, but there had not been any kind of response at all for a while. It was a bad sign. It was like he had built a wall between himself and the real world, and it would be that much harder to reach him. As he pondered this, Hawkeye suddenly went limp, but not the way he usually did when he went to sleep. This was different, frighteningly different. His pulse had weakened and he was not moving. 'Where's the doctor?!' he thought desperately. "Doctor!" he screamed again, his eyes searching for him.

He was lying in a ditch, cold, hurt, and unconscious. He was in the middle of nowhere, and bleeding profusely. If he did not get help soon, he would certainly die.

"Dada?" Ben, Jr. asked his mother, scanning the room for him.

"He'll be home soon, honey. He probably just had a lot of patients," Margaret answered her son. She said it more convincingly than she thought she could muster. He had never been more than ten minutes late home from work, and it had been two hours. She looked at Maggie. "He'll be home soon," she repeated, more to convince herself than anyone else.

Carlye Breslin, until recently Mrs. Carlye Peters, drove down the road. 'Where did that man say Hawkeye's house was again?' she asked herself. Being transferred to Maine had seemed to be the only logical course of action after her divorce from Michael. Boston held too many bad memories, like her leaving Hawkeye ('the biggest mistake of my life' she thought ruefully) and now her divorce. Well, now Maine was home. She had grown as a person quite a bit, and hoped Hawkeye had too. She just hoped the war had not changed him for the worse.

'I hope Hawkeye will be happy to see me,' she desperately thought. Even if he did not want to be serious, he had always been, first and foremost, her best friend. She would at least have a friendly shoulder to cry on. But she hoped that he would be more than a friendly shoulder. As she drove on the deserted roadway, she noticed something that seemed out of place in the brush by the roadside. She stopped her car and cautiously walked toward it. She gave it a good look-over and gasped. It was a car. She knew that she should call 911, but if someone needed emergency care, she could do more by making them stable. She was a nurse, after all. She carefully made her way down the slopes of the ditch. She turned the body of a dark-haired man over and screamed in shock.

Margaret hung up the phone. "No one answered when I called the clinic. He always answers the phone, no matter how busy he is," Margaret said, her voice quivering in worry. She turned to Daniel and said, "Could you go out looking for him? I'll go by Crabapple Cove General and see if they've seen or heard anything."

Daniel did not answer, just turned and walked outside.

"Come on, sweetheart," she said to Ben, Jr. She grabbed his coat and added, "I'm going to look for Daddy."

"Hawkeye!" Carlye screamed, tears streaming down her face. 'You have to calm down,' she told herself. 'You know you'll help him a lot more if you settle down and do what you know how.' Her hands were shaking, but at least now they worked. She checked his injuries and realized they were too severe for her to deal with. The only option was to get him to the ER. And fast.

"Has a Hawkeye Pierce been admitted?" Margaret asked the lady at the desk.

She looked over the chart and looked up at the frightened wife. "No, ma'am," she said.

"What about a man, dark hair, lanky..." Margaret started, before the woman cut her off.

"We all know Hawkeye somehow, Mrs. Pierce. I've known him since he was a little kid. Believe me, if he had been admitted, I would know."

Margaret looked at the woman in surprise. How did she know who she was? She just shook it off and turned to head out. Then a woman ran in out of breath and said, "There's a man with head injuries, severe lacerations and bruises, broken ribs, possibly other broken bones, in my car. He needs emergency care. Hurry!"

Margaret watched the woman turn to lead the doctors and nurses to the parking lot. She seemed familiar somehow. She continued to walk out the door, and scooted to allow the woman, followed by a stretcher and medical personnel, through. She looked down at the person lying unmoving on the stretcher and cried out in terror.

The doctor turned to Sidney and shook his head. "There is no medical cause for his condition. I would guess either he just gave up, or it's all psychological."

Sidney stared sadly at Hawkeye. He either had to reach him, or it was all up to Hawkeye. He had a feeling that the key was in his delusions.

Margaret stared in disbelief after the stretcher. It was long gone, into one of the rooms, or perhaps the OR. She had not heard exactly what they said they had to do. She just stared and her mind stopped working. Just then Daniel walked in. "What's wrong? Hawkeye?!" he shrieked, his voice breaking. She only nodded. "No!" he yelled and fell to the ground, crying.

Margaret stirred, feeling someone's eyes on her. She looked to the other side of the bed in the ICU, where Daniel Pierce was sitting. He was asleep, so it couldn't be him. She started to lay her head back down on Hawkeye's stomach to go back to sleep, but she still felt someone watching her. She looked to the doorway and saw the silhouette of a woman. The woman stepped into the light and Margaret saw that it was the blonde who had brought him in. She couldn't shake the feeling that she knew Hawkeye's rescuer from somewhere in her past.

"How's he doing?" the woman asked sincerely.

"I don't know. Not very good, though. He hasn't woken up yet, and that's not a good sign," Margaret answered sadly.

"Well, Margaret, I hope Hawkeye's okay," she replied. She seemed to be just as genuinely concerned as Margaret was.

"How do you know my name?" Margaret demanded. Her emotions were all strung out, and she was getting angry. It was a welcome break from feeling worried, scared, and depressed.

"You honestly don't remember?" she asked, surprised.

"No, I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied.

"I'm Carlye. We met in Korea. At the M*A*S*H 4077th. Ring any bells?" she asked.