His Barista - Soap MacTavish Coffee Shop AU

21

She wasn't really there. Johnny could see that, watching his girlfriend closely while her body forces itself into isolation — she'd held out hope for weeks and now that help was here it was time to rest.

It was painful looking at her; acknowledging her hollowed cheeks from starvation and the many cuts, bruises and welts she had was all too much for Johnny just yet. For only a moment he wondered if she'd be better off without him before he scolded himself, reminding his mind that it was his fault for her kidnapping. He couldn't abandon her like that.

She lay motionless in her hospital cot, face blank and eyes glazed over — lights were on but nobody home. Johnny had seen this all before, the clear signs of PTSD he himself had experienced one too many times before. He wanted to reach out and touch her, feel her skin against his again to know she was truely here but Elsie was too distraught for him to do so. It shattered him to see her vulnerable, so... small. She was it in every sense of the word.

Johnny turns his head to the door once hearing Elsie's nurse enter, a food tray held out in front of her. She smiles at him and approaches.

"Mr MacTavish," She greets him with a nod, handing the tray to him. "Extra orange juice, just how she likes."

He chuckles and shifts his chair closer to the hospital cot, resting the tray on his knee before carefully reaching over to regain Elsie's attention.

"Love?" He beckons her, voice soft and eyes so inviting not even her traumatised state could withstand the tiny crack of a smile she did upon seeing him.

She doesn't speak, but Johnny knows she so desperately wants to.

"Tea's here," He lifts the tray from his knee to show her, a visual aid to reassure her of his words. "And look, they given you extra juice."

She smiled at the juice and he peels the film off it, watching as a timid Elsie takes it gently from his rough hand and begins sipping at it.

"I thought that I could take you for a walk outside after you eat—" The way her body stiffens makes Johnny stop immediately, his throat seemingly becoming dry with anxiety, petrified at the thought of worsening her state.

But she nods her head and sips the juice again.

***

She's holding his hand as they walk, fingers interlocked. He's barely even holding it, too afraid to hurt her. Treating her like one of granny's old porcelain dolls that would break if you even so much as bumped something off it.

Elsie leads him around, eyes scanning as she takes in anything she can. The sun burning her skin but not wanting to put sunscreen on so she could feel the nip of it, the breeze brushing by them and raising goosebumps and hairs. She turns suddenly and hugs him, arms squeezing his waist.

"I knew you would come. I believed." She whispers to him and feels him start to squeeze back.

"Tell me what they wanted to know."

She stops moving.

"Johnny?" She questions him and attempts to pull away, futile as he holds her against him.

"Tell me what you know."

She's panicking now, pushing against his chest and slapping him until she finally breaks free, staggering backwards.

"Elsie, TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW!"

It's not Johnny. It's him.

"No no no no you're not here, you're not real..."

She screws her eyes closed until her head hurts, then opens them.

The cold concrete floor against her body, the foul taste of her own blood in her mouth and the stench of her own mess was pungent. She's not at the hospital anymore, but back in that godforsaken room.

And as the door flings open and slams against the wall, she screams louder than she'd ever done before.

Because this was all a lie.