Guy was speaking in longer sentences, in more coherent thoughts, without stopping every second to stutter or gasp for a breath. Hawkeye took it as a victory, early as it might be. He felt his heart flutter. Something would have to go terribly now, for a regression. A hand parted from Guy's body and started to pat the dirt under him and Hawkeye tells himself silently again that there was no need to search for a balm or ointment that wouldn't show up.

If he knew the plants, he might know if one had medicinal properties.

He groans, though, and rolls his eyes and wants to howl out a laugh but he had just been insulted, so he doesn't. He wants to explain his own joke, but doesn't know how to go about it. His patient was smiling. Hawkeye figured he could let him keep that cheap shot. "That's not a bad idea," he finally says. "If I'm going to live a life forever in debt, I don't see why you shouldn't." And his stomach growls, but he ignores it. Didn't have a choice, really.