It had been two days since Dusty woke up. He had been prepared for the residual pain from the machine and the very real soreness from his other wounds. He had not expected the nightmares, though.

He loved the desert, every aspect of it. The storms, the heat; he knew its every mood. Even sitting out here, in this little patch of land by the Joe base, felt good.

And yet…

Every time he closed his eyes, he was back there. In the unrelenting heat of an imaginary desert, one that he knew existed only in his mind. He shivered at the memory of the feel of the sun on his arms, the gritty taste in his mouth…knowing that he was going to die. Knowing that he had died.

He loved the desert, and yet fought against it constantly, in every mission in which his skills and knowledge kept his teammates alive.

He finally knew what would happen if his skills and knowledge fell short.

Dusty had taken to keeping his canteen with him where ever he went. Sometimes he felt the panic building up again, straining to take hold of him. He knew it wasn't real… But he felt it just the same. His teammates looked at him a little oddly, but were being, on the whole, very supportive about it. Only a few of them knew what had really happened.

If Courtney hadn't been there for him…

He pushed the thought away. She was there. And I should be getting back to her, he told himself. He took one last view across the sand before heading back into the base.

Flint was ready to kill someone. Fortunately there were no targets in the immediate area. He stalked down the hallway, muttering curses. If I have to go to one more damn meeting, I swear I will rip the medals off of Hawk's jacket and stuff them down his throat, he promised silently.

Even an hour away from the infirmary was torture. To have to sit still in a conference room, discussing briefs and reports for three hours, was almost more than he could bear.

But he was finally done, and he could go back to her.

As soon as he turned the hallway corner, he knew that something had happened. Scarlett and Cover Girl were standing outside the infirmary door, looking worried. He began to run.

He pushed past the two women and rushed into Lady Jaye's room.

At first he was relieved to see that she was awake. She'd been unconscious for almost three days now. Then he noticed that Lifeline was struggling with her, trying to get her to lay still.

He moved forward, putting his arms around her, holding her in place. He looked up at Lifeline, frantic. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

The medic was preparing to inject her with something. "She woke up about fifteen minutes ago. She was fine at first—well, calm, anyway—then she started fighting me. Hold her still, please."

Flint stared at the syringe. "What is that?"

"Just a mild sedative. It won't do anything but put her back to sleep." He lifted the gown at the shoulder and administered the shot.

Lady Jaye was staring at Lifeline in horror. Her breathing was fast and shallow; Flint could feel her heart racing under his arms. She struggled against him, straining to get away. Flint's heart felt like it would break.

"Alison, it's okay…Relax, please, you're scaring me."

If she heard, she didn't respond.

After a few moments, her struggling slowed, but the look in her eyes was still one of absolute terror.

She opened her mouth, but couldn't seem to speak.

Flint simply held her, stroking her hair, speaking in her ear. "Hush, honey, it's okay. You're safe now. Shhh… just relax, it's okay now…"

She looked up at him, pleading. Her voice was faint, barely audible. "Why… are you doing this… he… he.. already killed me…once… you're helping… him…"

Flint went rigid with shock. He looked up at Lifeline, wondering if the man had heard. Judging by the look on his face, he had.

"Well, I guess I know one of her nightmares now," he said sadly. "I—I'm going to leave you for a little while… She should be all right now. Do you want me to send one of the girls in?"

Flint shook his head as Lifeline walked out of the room.

Lady Jaye was quieter now. She trembled as he held her. He didn't speak, merely assured her of his presence.

The drug was taking effect. Her breathing slowed, and she began to whisper again in a sleepy voice. He wasn't sure at first she was even talking to him.

"When the Cobra soldiers shot you, I… wanted to die, too. But then the bullets came and it… it hurt so much. Then I was mad at you… you weren't there when the Dreadnoks attacked me, and they… that hurt more than the bullets. You didn't protect me…"

Flint felt tears course down his cheeks as she told him the worst of her nightmarish experiences. He thought his heart was in pain before, but this… He knew there was no way he could have been there for her, even had he been in the same room. He couldn't follow her into the darkest corners of her mind. He felt the guilt just the same.

Her eyes clouded over a moment, remembering. "I think the worst was the fire. None of the pain before or after that…" She shuddered. "And then…Do you remember when Beach Head saved me, when my parachute didn't open? He couldn't get to me, this time."

He tried to imagine feeling his own death, over and over again. It was a subject he normally avoided. How many times had she lived—or not lived—through such horror? Flint could envision some very grisly deaths. He held her closer as she fell asleep.

Cover Girl watched Dusty walk back toward the buildings. He was struggling to find himself again, and she had tried to be there for him… But some inner demons needed to be faced alone. But not tonight, she promised, heading after him.

She followed behind him for a while, watching. Outwardly he was calm, the same Dusty he had always been. She knew he hadn't been sleeping well, though. He looked like Hell. The other Joes chalked it up to his injuries and imprisonment, but she knew what was in his head.

"Hey, stranger," she called.

He turned with a smile, some of the fatigue already leaving him as he caught sight of her. "Hey yourself." Dusty waited for her to catch up, carefully putting an arm around her waist as she neared. He wasn't sure if she was just being friendly, but having her closer helped.

"Going to bed?" Cover Girl asked him.

She saw the guarded expression in his eyes as he answered. "Naw… I'm not really tired. Thought I'd watch some late night TV." He tried to smile.

"Liar." She told him.

He looked surprised. "What-?"

"You haven't been sleeping." She turned to him and looked him in the eye. "Don't deny it. Don't tell me you're fine."

He started to open his mouth, but she interrupted. "And don't you dare give me any of that macho bullshit about not needing any help. You do."

He winced, but nodded. "Yeah. I guess I might."

She considered him a moment. "Did you ask Lifeline about it?"

Dusty shuddered. "I tried the sleeping pills he prescribed me this afternoon." He gave her a wry smile. "Nothing worse than a nightmare you can't wake out of. I think I'd rather not sleep again, ever… for the rest of my life."

"Have you tried having… company around?" She blushed at him.

"You mean like a teddy bear? I don't think--"

She punched him playfully in the shoulder. "I did NOT mean a teddy bear. I meant a real person. Someone to remind you you're not still in Mindbender's lab?"

His eyes widened. "Are you volunteering for the job?"

"Don't get any funny ideas, mister. Yes, I'm volunteering. Unless you want me to get Bazooka… He might do it."

He thought about it a moment. "I think I'd rather have nightmares."

She could tell he was feeling more comfortable as they talked, forgetting about the scenery that lay in his mind. I hope this is a good idea, she thought. Something must help...

They made it to his quarters without seeing any of their teammates. He'll never hear the end of it if they see us, she mused.

She gave him a few minutes in the bathroom, rooting around for one of his undershirts while he was in there. Then she traded her own clothes for the shirt, took a deep breath, and sat on the end of the bed.

He walked back into the room and saw her immediately. She thought he looked scared for a moment, and her stomach fluttered. Then he smiled and took off his boots, jacket, and pants.

"Right. No funny stuff," he told her, pulling back the sheets. She slid in next to him, putting her arms around him as she did so. It felt very comfortable. She felt him sigh and relax in her embrace.

As much as she wanted to, Cover Girl knew this was not the right circumstance to take the next step in their relationship. So she simply held him, rubbing the back of his neck and whispering for him to sleep.

He did, almost immediately, and she was not far behind.

Lifeline peeked into Lady Jaye's room before he finished up for the night. He felt terrible that he hadn't realized why she was so scared earlier. It is not her fault, he told himself. Or yours, either.

Flint had completely moved onto the bed with Lady Jaye. They were sleeping peacefully, Flint's arms wrapped around her protectively.

He stopped long enough to make sure that the monitors weren't coming loose, then turned off the light and left.

It's not much use to wish you sweet dreams, he told her silently, but that's all I can do now.