Hawk approached the bed as soon as the door closed behind Zoe and her mother. He had seen that battle ready expression on Zoe’s face so often he only briefly acknowledged it on Brett’s features.
“I need you to take some pictures for me,” Brett said. “The equipment we use, some of the people we work with. I have to know how wide spread this memory-language thing is.”
That sounded like a reasonable suggestion to Hawk. “All right. How bad do you think it is?”
“If you can’t remember your own niece’s name, it’s bad.”
Hawk laid a hand on Brett’s shoulder. “You knew who she was, you just had trouble with her name. You haven’t forgotten her.”
“No, but Jesus!” Brett’s frustration and panic were plain in his expression, his voice.
“You need to relax, Brett. You’ve just woken up from a month long sleep. You haven’t given yourself time to get acclimated to being awake again. It may just be a temporary thing.”
“That isn’t what it sounded like to me.”
Hawk agreed. But getting worked up over it was going to be counterproductive.
“You know how it is when we get ready to go into action, how we shake off outside stressors. You need to home in, Brett. Focus on getting back on your feet first, then tackle this language--” He hesitated. Beating around the bush wasn’t going to help. “problem.”
“There wasn’t a moment your mother or your sister ever doubted you’d wake up. Zoe’s been here every day, talking to you, doing P.T. on you. If you have half as much faith in yourself as those two ladies do, you’ll have this thing ironed out in no time.”
The anxiety leached out of the man’s features after a few moments. “Thanks, Hawk.”
“No problem.”
“So, are you sleeping with my sister, or what?” Brett asked.