{Fic} May 12: Dedication (Dead Zone; Sarah, Bruce, Johnny)
Sarah pushes open the door quietly and glances towards the living room. The lights are dim but she sees movement. Setting aside her purse and a bag of groceries, she heads toward the room.
Bruce is leaning over the couch when she steps through the archway. He glances up at her and nods his head in greeting. He settles the blankets over Johnny’s shoulders and bends closer to kiss his cheek. Sarah breathes in sharply and looks away. Funny, but it’s the little moments, the innocent, tender connections that make her heart ache. She’s not sure why. She loves Walt and her son dearly, she’s happy. But a part of her will probably always wonder what might have been.
Bruce moves around the couch to join her. He stares back at Johnny with a weary expression. Sarah places a hand on his arm and guides him from the room. Bruce picks up the grocery bag on their way to the kitchen.
Turning on the lights reveals cluttered countertops. The area around the sink is crowded with a number of dishes and the remains of the day’s food preparation. The island is mostly covered with papers and a few books. On one end there is a cluster of pill bottles. Bruce is frozen for a moment, tired eyes glancing around. He emits a defeated sigh and uses an arm to move away some of the papers to be able to set down the bag.
Sarah hesitantly moves towards the sink. She’s rolling up her sleeve when Bruce whispers, “Thank you.” She nods and begins to rinse the dishes to put in the dishwasher. She knows there will be clean dishes to put away so she makes a pile of those needing to be washed and deals with food remnants first. Bruce moves around behind her, first putting away food and then sorting through the mail stacked on the table underneath the kitchen phone.
Later Bruce is sitting at the island, hunched over an open book with a legal pad and a pen. Sarah sets down a coaster and offers him a mug of herbal tea. The last thing he needs is a cup of coffee at this time of night. Bruce nods his thanks and turns back to his reading. She takes a seat next to him and rubs his shoulder as she sips at her own tea.
The last week’s been hell. Johnny caught a terrible cold after helping Walt track down a missing teenager. Johnny went into the hospital for a doctor to check him over. The fever got worse after that visit, but Johnny’s stubborn and refuses to go in again unless absolutely necessary. Bruce relented and arranged it so that he can stay with Johnny at home and take care of him.
It takes all of his energy, though. Sarah doesn’t envy him. The fever’s making Johnny’s dead zone go crazy and he’s more often than not caught in one vision or another when awake. Things are worse with extra stimuli, Bruce explains, and asks that only one or two people be in the same room as Johnny to reduce confusion.
Sarah can’t imagine what it’s like to be hear twenty-four hours a day, every day. She’s seen glimpses of what Bruce has dealt with, but she knows it’s actually minor in comparison.
Bruce is leaning over the couch when she steps through the archway. He glances up at her and nods his head in greeting. He settles the blankets over Johnny’s shoulders and bends closer to kiss his cheek. Sarah breathes in sharply and looks away. Funny, but it’s the little moments, the innocent, tender connections that make her heart ache. She’s not sure why. She loves Walt and her son dearly, she’s happy. But a part of her will probably always wonder what might have been.
Bruce moves around the couch to join her. He stares back at Johnny with a weary expression. Sarah places a hand on his arm and guides him from the room. Bruce picks up the grocery bag on their way to the kitchen.
Turning on the lights reveals cluttered countertops. The area around the sink is crowded with a number of dishes and the remains of the day’s food preparation. The island is mostly covered with papers and a few books. On one end there is a cluster of pill bottles. Bruce is frozen for a moment, tired eyes glancing around. He emits a defeated sigh and uses an arm to move away some of the papers to be able to set down the bag.
Sarah hesitantly moves towards the sink. She’s rolling up her sleeve when Bruce whispers, “Thank you.” She nods and begins to rinse the dishes to put in the dishwasher. She knows there will be clean dishes to put away so she makes a pile of those needing to be washed and deals with food remnants first. Bruce moves around behind her, first putting away food and then sorting through the mail stacked on the table underneath the kitchen phone.
Later Bruce is sitting at the island, hunched over an open book with a legal pad and a pen. Sarah sets down a coaster and offers him a mug of herbal tea. The last thing he needs is a cup of coffee at this time of night. Bruce nods his thanks and turns back to his reading. She takes a seat next to him and rubs his shoulder as she sips at her own tea.
The last week’s been hell. Johnny caught a terrible cold after helping Walt track down a missing teenager. Johnny went into the hospital for a doctor to check him over. The fever got worse after that visit, but Johnny’s stubborn and refuses to go in again unless absolutely necessary. Bruce relented and arranged it so that he can stay with Johnny at home and take care of him.
It takes all of his energy, though. Sarah doesn’t envy him. The fever’s making Johnny’s dead zone go crazy and he’s more often than not caught in one vision or another when awake. Things are worse with extra stimuli, Bruce explains, and asks that only one or two people be in the same room as Johnny to reduce confusion.
Sarah can’t imagine what it’s like to be hear twenty-four hours a day, every day. She’s seen glimpses of what Bruce has dealt with, but she knows it’s actually minor in comparison.