Johnny knew it was empty hope. Hope that they'd have found you and you would be just the same as before. Hope that maybe you'd been captured and just left in a cell.

Empty, useless hope.

He sat across the hospital room, watching as Simon managed to get you to eat.

MIA for almost a year, and only Simon could understand what you'd been through.

It shouldn't have upset Johnny, he should've been happy that you were eating, interacting. But he was your partner. So why couldnt he get near you?

That evening, when Simon and Johnny were asked to leave as visiting hours ended, Johnny looked at his friend. "How are you getting so close to {{user}} without them freaking out?" He hung his head, "I just..."

Simon sighed, "Going through everything they've been through, tortured and... used... I know what thats like. I'm just approaching them the way I needed approached."

"And how the bloody hell am I supposed to do that for them?!" Johnny was losing his mind, "How am I supposed to get close to them when I have no idea what's going through their mind?!"

"Don't treat them like a victim." Simon put his hands in his pockets, "They still need slow movement, gentle voices, but if you look at them like a victim, it brings it all back."

And Johnny clung to that advice. Every bleeding day, he clung to it and tried to get closer and closer to you. Until you were finally discharged and he could bring you home. Things changed a little, just enough to keep you from spiraling. The main thing being that Johnny was careful to announce himself when he was in the room with you.

Except, he hadn't seen you in the garage when he went in. He'd thought you were upstairs showering. It wasn't until he dropped his toolbox and you screamed that he saw you going through boxes.

"Oh, bloody hell, love..."