Plateau, Part 6
Feb. 15th, 2026 05:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
The Dead Zone
Chapter Summary: Johnny has an ominous warning. Walt's used to that by now.
Word Count: 640
Rating: Teen
Rewrite of Descent/Ascent
Pre-Johnny/Sarah/Walt
Walt doesn’t get much more of a conversation that time before someone else is taking over, but it marks a shift. He sees John more often—always at the mine, never at his own house or the hospital, and he’s not the only one Walt speaks to, either. He asks about it once. “I’ve seen more of your mother than you have.”
For the first time since the mine, he sees a little actual anger, any emotion, from John. “That’s not my mom.” The way his grip on the cane tightens, maybe it’s a good thing she’s not here.
“Looks like her,” Walt ventures, neutral. Somewhere along the line he realized his training for dealing with suicidal people might actually come in handy—which is terrifying, in a way, because this is Johnny, but it also means he has at least some idea of what to do. If talking the guy through his feelings is what he has to do to get him back, it’s what he’ll do.
“Pretty convincing,” John agrees. Walt would ignore this if not for the fact that John’s not the only one who doesn’t entirely trust her. “You know what she tried to tell me? She tried to tell me her own sin for not being strong enough was forgiven, and mine would be as well.”
Walt is actually pretty good at his job, even without visions of his own, so it doesn’t take him long to put the pieces together. “So when you were looking into your mother’s death, she didn’t actually die in her sleep, did she. John, I’m so sorry.”
John side-eyes him, face betraying nothing, like he’s trying to decide if Walt is the kind of guy to not be genuine about his condolences about a guy’s mother committing suicide—which, come on, give him a little more credit than that—and then nods tightly, body language betraying more than his face possibly ever will. “Thank you.”
And then, because he’s starting to get a better feel for what’s going on here, Walt adds, “You do know it’s not your fault, right?”
John shudders, suddenly unable to meet Walt’s eyes, glancing back out to where the ghosts of the miners wait, hungry and eager. They don’t approach, just lurk nearby, staring with eyes full of malice. “It was grief,” he says at last, verbally distancing himself when Walt has the feeling that’s the last thing he’s doing mentally.
“It’s not like you drove out in front of the truck on purpose, unless there’s something you haven’t told me.” It’s easy enough to make that guess—this hurting, lonely, slightly broken version, sure, but the one Sarah’s described when it doesn’t occur to her that she shouldn’t be talking about this to her new husband? “This time, on the other hand…”
The intense look is suddenly back, and completely focused on Walt, and it’s actually slightly intimidating, like the times when John gets too caught up in one of his visions. “It was me or you,” he says plainly, tone even a little mocking, confirming Walt’s own suspicions. “What, you telling me you’d have preferred it if I’d just seen you die and let it happen? Taken Sarah and JJ back?”
“We could have found another way if you’d told me,” Walt suggests, not letting John bait him, because that’s what he wants.
“No, we couldn’t have,” John states with finality, the kind of voice of authority he uses for relaying his visions. “Go to Sarah, Walt. Tell them all to stop. It’s slowly killing you.”
Walt finds himself being shoved out forcefully, John kicking him out of his head, but he speaks anyway, because he’s pretty sure Johnny will hear him. “If you think that’s going to scare us away or make us give up on you, you don’t know us.”
The Dead Zone
Chapter Summary: Johnny has an ominous warning. Walt's used to that by now.
Word Count: 640
Rating: Teen
Rewrite of Descent/Ascent
Pre-Johnny/Sarah/Walt
Walt doesn’t get much more of a conversation that time before someone else is taking over, but it marks a shift. He sees John more often—always at the mine, never at his own house or the hospital, and he’s not the only one Walt speaks to, either. He asks about it once. “I’ve seen more of your mother than you have.”
For the first time since the mine, he sees a little actual anger, any emotion, from John. “That’s not my mom.” The way his grip on the cane tightens, maybe it’s a good thing she’s not here.
“Looks like her,” Walt ventures, neutral. Somewhere along the line he realized his training for dealing with suicidal people might actually come in handy—which is terrifying, in a way, because this is Johnny, but it also means he has at least some idea of what to do. If talking the guy through his feelings is what he has to do to get him back, it’s what he’ll do.
“Pretty convincing,” John agrees. Walt would ignore this if not for the fact that John’s not the only one who doesn’t entirely trust her. “You know what she tried to tell me? She tried to tell me her own sin for not being strong enough was forgiven, and mine would be as well.”
Walt is actually pretty good at his job, even without visions of his own, so it doesn’t take him long to put the pieces together. “So when you were looking into your mother’s death, she didn’t actually die in her sleep, did she. John, I’m so sorry.”
John side-eyes him, face betraying nothing, like he’s trying to decide if Walt is the kind of guy to not be genuine about his condolences about a guy’s mother committing suicide—which, come on, give him a little more credit than that—and then nods tightly, body language betraying more than his face possibly ever will. “Thank you.”
And then, because he’s starting to get a better feel for what’s going on here, Walt adds, “You do know it’s not your fault, right?”
John shudders, suddenly unable to meet Walt’s eyes, glancing back out to where the ghosts of the miners wait, hungry and eager. They don’t approach, just lurk nearby, staring with eyes full of malice. “It was grief,” he says at last, verbally distancing himself when Walt has the feeling that’s the last thing he’s doing mentally.
“It’s not like you drove out in front of the truck on purpose, unless there’s something you haven’t told me.” It’s easy enough to make that guess—this hurting, lonely, slightly broken version, sure, but the one Sarah’s described when it doesn’t occur to her that she shouldn’t be talking about this to her new husband? “This time, on the other hand…”
The intense look is suddenly back, and completely focused on Walt, and it’s actually slightly intimidating, like the times when John gets too caught up in one of his visions. “It was me or you,” he says plainly, tone even a little mocking, confirming Walt’s own suspicions. “What, you telling me you’d have preferred it if I’d just seen you die and let it happen? Taken Sarah and JJ back?”
“We could have found another way if you’d told me,” Walt suggests, not letting John bait him, because that’s what he wants.
“No, we couldn’t have,” John states with finality, the kind of voice of authority he uses for relaying his visions. “Go to Sarah, Walt. Tell them all to stop. It’s slowly killing you.”
Walt finds himself being shoved out forcefully, John kicking him out of his head, but he speaks anyway, because he’s pretty sure Johnny will hear him. “If you think that’s going to scare us away or make us give up on you, you don’t know us.”
