“Who’re you?” she asks again. He digs his stub nails into his palm and replies,
“James,” he says. The name relaxes her, but only for now. “And what’s your name?” he asks.
“I…don’t know,” she says, looking at her hands, as though they might tell her.
Today is harder for her.
She’s making progress, but slowly.
Her relapses are frequent, and today is one of them.
She doesn’t remember who she is or even where she is.
Some nights he walks in on her nightmares and talks her down, whispering stories that they’ve shared.
He reminds her of places they’ve seen, people they’ve met, nights they’ve shared.
It helps her, but it’s not enough to save her.
With every passing day she grows violent, throwing people around, breaking through the walls that keep her here.
But she sees him beyond the glass and he waves.
She stops when he’s near. Her shoulders drop and her eyes soften around him.
“Who’re you?” she asks.
“James,” he says. “And what’s your name?”
“Romanova?” she asks.
“That’s your last name,” he tells her. “What’s your first name?”
“I don’t know.” She looks back at her hands, clenching and unclenching her fists.
“Barnes!” they call him from outside. She looks up at him, as though she recognizes him for a moment. He wants to stay, he wants to remind her of who he is and who she is and who they are. He wants to hold her hands while she says his name again until she remembers it.
But he leaves.
He leaves and he regrets every step he takes.
Weeks pass and she remains the same.
“Who’re you?” she asks.
“James,” he says. “And what’s your name?”
“Natalia?”
The answer freezes him in his spot.
“Right?” she asks.
“Yes, yes your name is Natalia,” he tells her.
“Natalia,” she says again, as though she’s getting used to the sound of it.
“Do you know where you are Natalia?” he asks.
“No,” she says, shaking her head.
“That’s okay.”
“But I know you,” she tells him. “You’re always with me. They tell you to leave, but you stay.
“I’m here to take care of you,” he tells her.
“But you’re not a doctor.”
“No.”
“But you stay.” He nods and walks past her. She grabs his hand, stopping him before she can leave. “James,” she says quietly. He stops and looks at her.
“Do you remember me?” he asks quietly.
“Of course,” she tells him. “How could I forget you?” She runs her fingers over his hands, tracing lines with her nails. He laces their fingers together, kissing her hands.
“Nat,” he says and he hears his voice cracking. He feels his stomach churning and he takes her hands and holds them tightly as though she might leave if he doesn’t. She looks right at him and smiles and he feels as though everything else has fallen away from them, that there is nothing to keep them apart anymore and he wants to kiss her and hold her again.
But he sees it in her eyes, he sees her fading, he sees her relapse in front of him. “Nat?” he asks again, desperation clear in his voice.
She yanks her hands out of his and holds her head, pulling at fistfuls of her hair,
“Nat?” he asks again. For a moment time stops around them. They all freeze, but he can still feel his heart pounding in his chest, threatening to break free at any second. When she looks up at him he knows it’s happened again. He knows that nothing has changed.
“Who’re you?” she asks. And James tries to smile, and he digs his nails into his palm and tries to level his voice.
“James,” he says. “And what’s your name?” he asks, but his voice still cracks.
She shakes her head.
“I don’t know,” she tells him.
He only nods. He nods and he stands up and he walks away.
He shouldn’t walk away, he knows. She’s starting to remember and he needs to be there when she does remember him, but he can’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes. He can’t stop his heart sinking lower in his stomach; he can’t stop his body from shaking.
He feels like he’ll faint at any moment so he leaves and keeps walking.
Walking past the others calling after him
And he keeps walking until he’s running out of there
And he keeps running until he falls onto the ground
And he stays there until he can feel the rain pouring down on, until he can feel the wind blow faster around her and he screams up at the sky
He curses time for tearing them apart
He curses the gods for pushing them away
He pounds the earth for taking her away from him
He beats the grass until his hand bleeds and he stays there as the rain, dirt and blood all mix together.