Author's note: I'd like to give a special thanks to Megan, nsalem,and Anni.

Margaret Houlihan woke up early that morning and consider going back to sleep until she saw a note under the door to her tent. She got out of her Army cot and picked up the note. It was probably one of Hawkeye Pierce or BJ Hunnicutt's juvenile pranks. Still, she was curious so she read it. It said:

Margaret:

Beware. Today is Friday the thirteenth in the month of October. Bad things may happen to you and your friends today. Be prepared. Today is a day of unexpected happenings.

-- D.

P.S. I warned you.

Margaret didn't believe the note. Who was "D." anyway? She didn't want to toss it so she hid it in her desk drawer. As she was closing the desk drawer, she jammed her finger in it. "Ow," she moaned. The note? Margaret wondered if it had anything to do with it. Of course not. It was a coincidence. She put on her uniform and for once, wasn't too neat about it. Afterwards, she headed over to the mess tent to get some "coffee". After she got the "coffee" she went over to sit down with Potter, Charles, Hawkeye, and BJ. "Good morning, Margaret," said Hawkeye. " Did anyone here leave a note about today being bad luck in my tent?" Margaret asked. They all looked completely confused. "Okay, next question: does anyone know someone called 'D'?" she asked. They all shook their heads and mumbled that they did not have a clue as to who "D" was. "What exactly did the note say?" asked BJ. "I'll go get it. Maybe that will help us figure out who wrote it." A few minutes later they some her come running back from her tent. "What happened?" asked Hawkeye. "The note....it has blood all over it," she said as she set the note down in front of Hawkeye. He turned as white as a ghost as he read it. "Margaret... 'D'..... could it be Donald?" he asked. "Why would he do that?" she countered. "Maybe, he's sore about the divorce and wants to get back at you by harming and scaring you. Just an idea," he said. By this time, not only was Hawkeye pale, but so was Margaret. "You okay?" asked Charles. "Yeah. Fine. No problems," she fibbed. "Not funny, we can tell you're scared to death," said Hawkeye. "I think someone should keep you company for a few days, until we see if this is someone idea of a sick joke or if it's for real. Any volunteers?" asked Potter. "Yeah. I'll stay with her," volunteered Hawkeye. "No, I'll be fine," she countered. "I insist," said Hawkeye. "I'm fine. Really." "I'd feel better if you'd let me stay with you." "Stop it, you two. Margaret, I'm ordering you to give in and don't you dare try to make it difficult for him," interrupted Potter. "But..." Margaret started to protest. "Forget it. You heard what he said." interrupted Hawkeye. "Fine. Get your stuff and move in," she said. She wasn't nearly as mad as she let the others think.

"Cozy place you have here," Hawkeye was trying to make small talk. "Don't you know what time it is?" she asked. "No." He turned the light on to look at his watch. "Turn the light off, stupid. It's too late to be awake. Now, go to sleep," she complained. "Ok." He stood up. "You never said in what cot," he said. "In that cot," she said as she pointed to the other cot. "Ok. Just wanted to clear that up a bit," he said.

"AGHHH!" "What?" Hawkeye yelled as he sat bolt upright. That's when he saw it. Her sheets were drenched with blood. "Margaret! Are you okay?" He ran over to her cot where she was still laying. "I-I think so," she stammered. Hawkeye grabbed her and pulled her out of the blood-soaked cot. That's when they saw yet another note.

Margaret:

Friday the Thirteenth maybe over, but the danger just increases!

--D.

P.S. You can run, but you can't hide!

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked after they had read the note. "No, I'm terrified," she replied, shaking. He put his arm around her shoulder. "We're not gonna let whoever 'D' is do anything to you. Believe me. I promise," he said. They still had a few hours before they should get up so they went back to sleep. Of course, Margaret changed the sheets on her bed before she laid down again.

After Hawkeye and Margaret told the others about last night and ate something the vaguely resembled eggs an announcement came over the P.A. speaker. "Attention! We've got wounded! It's a big one!"

"I could sleep for a year, roll over, and sleep for four more months," declared BJ after the long session on their was back to their tents. "Me, too," agreed Potter. "I am going to sleep for a decade," said Charles. "I'm going to sleep till this war is over," said Hawkeye. "I don't care how long I sleep, just so long as I do without being interrupted by another note from "D'," said Margaret. Hawk and Margaret got back to her tent opened the door and saw that her desk was drenched in blood. "What happened?" Hawkeye asked. "Oh, no. Another note," said Margaret as she picked a piece of blood-stained paper.

Margaret:

Your time is running out. Don't waste a minute of your precious life. It's not long enough to waste.

--D.

P.S. When we meet, it'll be in the afterlife!

"Uh, on second thought, I don't think I'll be sleeping anytime soon," she said. He grabbed the note from her and read it. All of a sudden, they heard gunfire. They pulled the blackout shades over the windows, as the announcement on the P.A. said to do. They sat on the floor as far from the blood-soaked desk as possible. "AGHHH!" They screamed as a bullet went through the side of the tent only less than an inch away from them. Too close for comfort. Way too close. One more shot was fired and again it went through the tent, but this time it was more than to close for comfort. It had grazed Margaret's arm. She screamed in pain. The gun fire had stoped as quickly as it had started. Hawkeye leaped up, turned on the light and knelt down next to Margaret. The wound was worse than they had thought. "Margaret!" he gasped when he finally got a good look at the wound. "It hurts, Hawk.... really bad," she managed to say. "I know it does. Don't worry though, it'll be okay," he said.

It seemed that everything was normal again. There weren't anymore notes and Margaret's arm was getting much better. After lunch that day, Margaret and Hawkeye walked back to her tent. When they opened the door, they saw a sea of blood. And on her bed was another note. The first in several days.

Margaret:

The last time was a close call. Remember, sooner or later, we all sleep alone.

--D.

P.S. And you know what I mean, stupid.

"Another note?!?" she exclaimed as she walked through blood on the floor. She was getting sick of it. And they kept getting stranger every time. She wanted to find out who was writing them, but she was afraid to. She had been quiet for quite a while. "Margaret?" Hawkeye asked, with concern in his voice. "Yeah?" When she said it, she sounded so weak. "I think we should clean this up and get some sleep," Hawkeye suggested. They hadn't gotten much the last couple of weeks.

Margaret felt something on her. She ignored it because she was so tired. Then she decided to look. She screamed. It was a huge snake. She couldn't move. Hawk heard her scream and sat bolt upright in his cot. That's when he saw the snake too. He leaped over to her cot and picked up the snake like he had done with his pet snakes when he was younger. He then took it outside and set it down. He ran back into the her tent. "Are you okay?" Hawkeye asked her. "I-I think so," she said. They saw it, a note on her nightstand.

Margaret:

Give me a few days, then you'll find out what dead is like!

--D.

P.S. I'll bet it ain't pretty!

Margaret turned so pale, Hawkeye thought she was going to pass out. She didn't. She couldn't. She was stuck in her worst nightmare. This was one time she couldn't wake up from the nightmare. Hawkeye gave her a tight hug. "It'll be okay," he kept saying to her. His voice sounded so far away to Margaret. "I-I think I'll try to get some more sleep," she said. "Ok," he pulled the sheets over her, kissed her forehead, and went back to his cot. They slept in a few hours too late. It was almost noon by the time they awoke.

They picked at their food while telling Colonel Potter and BJ about the events of last night. Right down to the strange note. "The note said 'Margaret: Give me a few more days and you will find out what dead is like. D. P.S. I'll bet it ain't pretty,'" Hawkeye said. "I don't think even Donald would do that," said BJ. "But who then? I can't think of anyone who's initial is 'D,'" commented Margaret. "Me neither," said Potter.

A normal day and then WHAM! The notes start again.

Margaret:

Hickory dickory doc. The mice ran up the clock. The clock struck one and the others escaped with minor injuries!!

--D.

P.S. To bad you will not escape!

To accompany this note, there was a pencil broken in half. It scared her more than the blood had for some odd reason. She found this note under her pillow. How had it gotten there? Her head was on the pillow all through last night... this was really weird. "Hawk, do you think it is Donald? I know he's strange, but is he this bad?" Margaret asked. "You never know, Maggie, you never know," he said. The two of them had become really good friends during this spooky time. This time, they didn't tell anyone about the note. Which turned out to be a really dumb idea.

"AGHH!" "Margaret!" Thank God she woke up when she did. There was a hand grenade on her bed- the pin was pulled, too. She thought fast. She put her finger over the spot where the pin should've been. She found the pin on her nightstand- on top of a note.

Margaret:

If you can read this, you're still here. I have my ways of knowing if you are.

--D.

P.S. If you're here, tomorrow we shall meet and I will kill you then!

"Margaret? How would he know?" asked Hawkeye. "I was gonna ask you the same thing," she said. Once again they didn't tell anyone. They didn't do that because they wanted to find out who D was. It seems to me that they should have told someone.

They were both asleep and then, Margaret woke up because she heard someone's light breathing next to her. This was it. This was the infamous "D"? She looked up just to see a black figure. It punched her. Hard. She gasped for air. Then the figure was gone. It had left one last note. "Hawkeye?" she asked weakly. "Margaret?" he replied. "He...was here," she said still trying to catch her breath. "Is there a note?" Hawkeye asked. She nodded. They read the note together.

Margaret:

You're still alive. I have no doubts that someday that will change. I still think someone with such spirit would be useful on my side. For now, you have been a challenge. I will be back, you can count on this. When, I cannot say. Tomorrow? Next year? In an hour? Have fear, I will be back.

--Death

"Hawkeye? Is this one of your sick jokes?" asked Margaret. "No. I'm not this twisted. I think this could be the real thing," he said. "I am deathly afraid that this is real," she said, quietly. "He said you're a challenge...maybe he'll leave you alone for a while. Like, all of eternity," said Hawkeye. "I hope so," she agreed. After a while the two of them decided Hawkeye could stay there. Just for one more night, though. This would certainly be a night to remember. That night, all was quiet until about three. The door to her tent opened. She could hear footsteps. She quickly tuned on a light; hopefully, she could get a good look at this figure. Even with the light on, the figure was all black and almost transparent. It tossed a note onto her cot and vanished into thin air. She read it.

Margaret:

The last note sounded like a death-threat. In a way it was a promise, not a threat. Someday, your time will be up. I cannot see that day in the near future. I do know how it will happen, though. It's fate, so nothing you do will change it, so don't waste your life trying to stop it from happening. You and a dear friend (who's name I shall not use for you will try to protect him) will be in a terrible fire. He'll survive. You will live on only in his memory. One day, you will help me to take his life. This is guaranteed.

--Death

"Hey! I never thought I'd see you here!" exclaimed Margaret. "I never thought I'd see you anywhere," came the reply. "How have you been?" she asked. "Great! Dad and I just moved to California because the old house had too many memories from before the war. Dad knew nothing was the same and said that he understood and was willing to move to anywhere I wanted to. I said that we could flip a coin to decide. He picked North Carolina, I said California. Heads, Carolina, Tails California. Somewhere greener, somewhere warmer. Up in the mountains, down by the ocean. Where it didn't matter as long as we were going somewhere. That's how we ended up here in California. How've you been?" Hawkeye asked. "Pretty good. My sister and I have this really nice house that's about twenty minutes away from here. I couldn't believe it when I heard some of the nurses here talking about Hawkeye Pierce. What's interesting is BJ works here too," she said. "Really? I didn't know that!" Hawkeye exclaimed. "Well, really, I have to get back to work," she said. "Do you want to come over to my place tonight? Here's my address," he said, handing her a piece of paper. "Thanks. I'll see you tonight. Around eight, okay?" she said. "Sure," agreed Hawkeye.

The two of them sat up until three in the morning talking. They had a lot of fun. Both fell asleep around ten after three. Somehow, the house caught fire. To this day, no one knows how it happened. Fate? Maybe. Hawkeye and his father lived. Margaret did not. Did it have something to do with that last note? Was it a coincidence? Hawkeye was miserable for a long time afterwards. One day, he decided to go for a walk to where the house they'd first moved into was. On his way there, he was hit by a car. This had been seen by Death and his helper (who wasn't willing to become his helper at first). Yes, that person was Margaret. She loathed Death for making her watch it...as well as making her plan it. It did have somewhat of a good affect, though. Hawkeye once again got to see her. They were two unhappy souls who were stuck with the job of planning out others' fate. Each made it bearable for the other, much like what had happened in Korea.