A/N: This takes place sometime after the episode, "Request Permission To Escape", from season one.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Hogan's Heroes characters.

"Your turn, Carter."

Carter looked up from the cards in his hand that he'd been staring at for the past minute or so. "What?" he asked Newkirk, who was tapping the deck on the table.

"Blimey, Carter, where 'ave you been? I said, it's your turn."

"Oh, right," Carter answered as he reached across the table and drew the top card. He looked at it briefly, then added it to the rest of the cards he was holding, and went back to staring at them.

Newkirk watched him for a moment, and then shrugged his shoulders and drew the next card from the top of the deck. When he saw what it was, he stuffed it into the middle of his hand, and, grinning triumphantly, laid his cards on the table, calling out, "Gin!"

Carter looked up, and then folded up his hand and tossed the cards on top of the rest of the deck. "Looks like you win again, Newkirk," he said, with no more emotion in his voice than if he was reciting something out of the Army manual.

Newkirk shot a look at LeBeau, who was standing at the stove, busy working on some new recipe. LeBeau looked back and shook his head slightly. They'd both been getting concerned about Carter; he hadn't said much since morning.

Newkirk turned his attention back to Carter. "Andrew, is there somethin' botherin' you, mate? You've been pretty quiet today."

LeBeau came over and took a seat at the table next to Carter. "Oui, mon ami, it's not like you. You've hardly said a word to us all day. What's the matter?"

Carter glanced at his two concerned friends. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, and then closed it as he let out a sigh. "Nothing's the matter. I'm fine," he uttered at last.

"You don't seem fine," LeBeau kept trying. "In fact, you still haven't told us what that letter was that you got at mail call this morning."

"That's right!" Newkirk piped up, "What was it? Bad news from home?"

Carter looked back and forth between them and then shook his head. "It was nothing."

"It doesn't sound like nothing. Come on, Carter, you can tell us!" LeBeau put his hand on the sergeant's shoulder.

Carter hung his head. "You wouldn't understand."

"Sure we would, Andrew! Why don't you give us a chance?" Newkirk urged him.

"You'll just make fun of me."

"How can you say that?" LeBeau exclaimed, "We never make fun of you!"

Carter's eyes widened with surprise. "What are you talking about, Louis? You guys always make fun of me!"

"Andrew, I promise, whatever you tell us, we'll take it very seriously, won't we, Louis?" Newkirk tried to reassure him.

Carter once again scrutinized their faces, and, against his better judgment, decided to tell them. "Well, the letter was from Mary Jane..."

"What?" Newkirk interrupted, "I thought you got over 'er months ago!"

"See? I told you you wouldn't understand!" Carter shouted, and then stood up so quickly that he almost lost his balance. When he'd regained his footing, he glared briefly at them both, then turned around and stormed out of the barracks, intending to find a quiet corner of the camp to be alone for a while.

Newkirk and LeBeau exchanged concerned looks, and then the English corporal got up and said, "I'll go see what's eatin' at 'im." He headed out of the barracks, and in the direction that he suspected Carter had gone. He found him right where he knew he would; behind Barracks 15. It was near the end of the compound, and empty at the moment, which made it the most secluded spot in the camp. Newkirk walked slowly up to the bench that Carter was seated on, and plopped down next to him.

"What is it, Andrew?" Newkirk asked, "C'mon, you can tell your ol' mate, 'ere."

Carter just sat there, staring at his fidgeting hands. "I already told you, it's Mary Jane…"

"Yes, you did."

"Well, I got a letter from her, and now I…I just don't know what to do…" Carter's head dipped lower, and a tear made a path down his cheek.

Newkirk was becoming worried. "'Ere, now, it's all right, Andrew," he threw his arm around Carter's shoulders, trying to reassure him, "What did the letter say?"

Carter took a few moments to get himself under control, and then said, "She was going out with some guy, and I guess they got pretty serious. Anyway, the guy ended up running off with some other girl, and now she wants me back."

Newkirk wasn't too surprised. "That's women for you, can't make up their minds."

"She's pregnant."

Newkirk let out a whistle. "Well, that's a whole different story, ain't it? Blimey, Carter, you're not considerin' goin' back to 'er, are you?"

Carter shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know…maybe."

"But, what about the kid?"

"I guess I'd have to be a father…"

"I don't know, Andrew," Newkirk cut in, "Take it from someone who's been around a bit; when someone cheats on you, they'll do it again." Visions of his dad suddenly flooded his mind; all the times he'd come home drunk, with lipstick on his collar, swearing he hadn't been with another woman. Until that one day when he was fourteen, and there was a knock on the door. His mum went to answer it, and the obviously pregnant woman standing there demanded to see his dad, claiming with certainty that he was the father. When his dad got home that night, drunk again, as usual, his mum confronted him, and he finally admitted the truth. That's when she tossed him out for good. He remembered how hard it was for her…oh, she tried to stay strong, especially in front of him and his sister, but he would hear her at night, sobbing in her room, her heart completely broken. He knew where cheating led, and he didn't want to see Carter go through that.

Carter nodded. "I know, I've heard that, too. But me and Mary Jane, we had something special, you know? There's no one in the world that I want to spend the rest of my life with, and I thought she felt the same. I know we've been apart for a while now, and I know it's hard for her…it's hard for me, too. But she promised me that I'd be the only one for her, that she'd wait for me, that as soon as I got back she'd marry me…"

Newkirk nodded. "I know."

"In fact, we even talked about getting married before I left, but there wasn't enough time to arrange it; you know, to do it up right. So we decided to wait."

Newkirk appeared to be contemplating. "Maybe that's for the best, Andrew. If she 'ad done this, and you two were already married…"

"Well, maybe if we were already married, she wouldn't have done this!" Carter exclaimed angrily.

"Do you really believe that?" Newkirk asked quietly.

Carter looked at him, and then heaved a sigh. "I guess not. It just hurts, you know? We got along so great….we were like best friends. We never argued or anything. I was so happy just to be with her, and I thought she felt the same way. I trusted her completely, and when I left, I just knew she'd wait for me, and when I got back, we'd be together forever."

Newkirk remained silent, letting Carter finish.

"And then she goes out with another guy, and now she's going to have a baby! And she wants me back, and I…don't know what to do."

Newkirk looked at him with understanding. "You still love 'er, don't you?"

Carter looked back, and then brought his gaze down to his hands again. Finally he murmured, "Yeah."

Newkirk thought about it for a few moments, and then said, "I can't tell you what to do, mate, but I want you to think about this, I mean, really think about this. What if you take 'er back, and you end up 'avin' to leave 'er for a while again…do you think you can trust 'er to remain faithful? And 'ow do you really feel about raisin' some other bloke's kid? 'Ave you thought about that?"

Carter looked up at Newkirk, his expression radiating so much confusion. "Yeah, I've thought about that. But, what if she's telling the truth? What if she's really sorry, and she won't do it again? What if maybe, maybe I can trust her?"

Newkirk gave Carter a look that suggested he didn't believe that.

Carter's eyes started tearing again. "I really love her, you know? I don't want to spend my life with anyone else. I…don't know how I can go on without her…"

Newkirk flashed him a sad smile. "You can, Andrew. We all do, you know. If you want to go back to 'er, I won't stop you. But if it's not meant to be, you'll find someone else; someone who'll be faithful, and stay by your side, and love you as much as you love 'er. You 'ave to believe that."

Carter took a deep breath, and then sighed heavily. "I know, Newkirk." He sat there for a few moments in silence, and then said, "What I don't understand is, why? Why do the people we love hurt us like this?"

Newkirk shook his head. "Blimey, I wish I knew, Andrew…if I did, I'd be bloody rich by now!"

Carter smiled at him. Then he said, "Thanks, Newkirk, for talking to me. You really helped."

Newkirk smiled back. "Anytime, Andrew. Now, 'ow about we go back to the barracks? Maybe I'll let you win at Gin this time!"

Carter laughed. "I could have won if I wanted to, you know!"

Newkirk grinned at him. "I'd like to see you try!"

"All right. But first, I have a letter to write."

Newkirk nodded, staring into his eyes with understanding. "That's fine, mate. You do what you need to do."

They got up and made their way back to Barracks two. When they entered, LeBeau looked relieved at the expressions on their faces. Newkirk winked at him and sat down at the table, picking up the deck of cards and shuffling them carefully. Then he looked around and saw Kinch sitting on his bunk, and cajoled him into playing a few hands of Gin with him.

Carter plopped down on his bunk and pulled out a sheet of paper. He thought for a few moments, and then began to write; Dear Mary Jane, I got your last letter, and I guess I have a lot to tell you…

The End