* * *
Jessica, asleep in the only cushioned chair, startled awake. She bolted to her feet and stood over Clint, instinctively knowing not to touch him yet. "Clint, it's me, Jessie. You're having a nightmare."
The door flew open, and Doc Barnes sped to Clint's side.
"No, Doc! Be careful." Jessica barely got out the words before he grasped Clint's arms and tried to pull them back down to his sides.
Clint swept one arm out and catapulted the doctor like he was a toothpick. Jessica watched helplessly as Doc landed in the rolling chair. It flew backward and slammed into the far wall.
"Doc!" Jessica cried, running after him. She reached him in time to press her hands to his chest before his body could bounce out of the chair from the impact.
Doc shook his head once and glanced back to his patient. "What's going on?"
Jessica's gaze left Doc and landed on Clint. "A nightmare." Seeing that Doc was fine, she hurried back to Clint's side. "He's trying to protect his head. Probably remembering the shot and reliving the pain."
"Clint. Can you hear me?" Jessica pleaded.
"Don't hit me again, old man." He sounded delirious. "You'll never hit me again!" His brawny arms thrashed about as if he were smacking something away, then he crossed them back over his eyes.
Jessica tried again with a softer voice this time. "Clint. It's Jessie. Wake up." She carefully took hold of his wrists. "It's okay now. Just relax. Relax your arms. No one is going to hurt you."
She pulled his arms away from his face, and her heart broke. His eyes were open, huge and wild with fear. He seemed to be looking straight through her. He allowed her to bring his arms down by his sides. Tears flooded his eyes. He bit his lower lip and turned his head, looking like a frightened little boy.
Jessica put a palm to his cheek as her stomach knotted. "Oh Clint . . ." A hiccup broke loose in her throat. He blinked and turned his head back. His brow furrowed as he obviously worked to recognize her. Jessica waited, her heart in her throat. This is how he must have agonized when he first realized I had amnesia.
"Do you know who I am?" Jessica wasted no time to ask.
His eyes sharpened and focused on hers. He swallowed, opened his mouth to speak, and only rasped. Instinctively, she knew his need. She started to rise, but the doctor put his hand to her shoulder, already having anticipated Clint's wish. The small cup of water was at Clint's mouth, and Doc lifted his head to receive it. Jessica shifted partially out of the way, but had a grasp on Clint's hand and kept it between both of hers. He sipped, and then guzzled the rest in one breath. Doc left his side to throw the cup away, and Jessie shifted closer.
"Jessie," Clint said in a croaky voice.
Jessica glanced briefly at the ceiling. "Thank you, Lord," she mouthed.
She brought her face to within inches of his and turned her ear toward his lips to hear his words. When she only felt a steady rhythm of warm breath against her temple, she turned back to see he'd fallen back to sleep. He looked younger, less formidable, when he slept, though lines of pain still etched his splendid mouth and a slight frown drew his brows together.