A/N: Mine! All mine! Muahahahha! Yeah, okay, whatever… thanks for reviewing! Oh, your astrological chart thingy says, "The heavens shall rain fire upon you unless you review" so…please review!

Walt

Sarah had broken down and sobbed. Then she locked him out of his own bedroom…how humiliating! He was supposed to be the sheriff, but if his own wife ignored him, why would anyone else listen to him? Needless to say, Walt was not in the best of moods as he came in for work.

As usual, he was hounded by hungry news-hounds (no pun intended). He calmly declared, "No comment." To every microphone, tape recorder, and note book that was thrust beneath his nose. On his way to the office, Walt noted that a particular red head reporter was absent- a blessing in disguise?

Walt reached his office and slammed the door behind him, locking it. He sighed as he sat down in his chair, a very old chair that he had gotten as a "Congratulations on Getting the Job as Sheriff" from the rest of the staff several years ago, when he first became sheriff. He had seen a lot of people, guilty and innocent, sit across from him on the other side of the desk.

One of those people had been the mystical Johnny Smith. The moment Walt had heard that Johnny had woken up, he began to unconsciously hate him. The worst thing was, he had been forced to ask the man for help, much to the delight of his wife. Walt could picture Johnny sitting across from him, holding a used cigarette and saying, "Can't catch me, 'cause I'm to slick, see? I'm just too slick, see? Too slick… " in a voice totally unlike his own. One of his famous visions, and Walt had to witness it.

He hated to be proven wrong, and that's all that Johnny had seemed to have done. He was wrong about any of the murderers, any of the paths taken, any upcoming events. He had always been proven wrong by the great Johnny Smith. Walt frowned slightly as he went over the various crime scenes he had been helped on by Johnny.

Worst of all, Johnny had had his wife before they were married, and (after he woke up) he had wrapped Sarah right back around his finger. Walt had never confronted Sarah about it, but he knew all about the night when Sarah had gone to Johnny's house to "return his ring" and had ended up staying the whole night. He wasn't a sheriff for nothing, and Sarah had come back dripping guilt. That, and she smelled like Johnny's slightly over powering cologne.

Walt's lips had pressed themselves into a tight white line.

~*~*~*~

The day was crawling by. Walt had only been at work for about two hours, but he felt like he had been there since the dawn of time.

It was a particularly slow day, no calls except the occasional reporter, asking for his view on Johnny's death, or his view on how the police force would get by without their "psychic bloodhound". Walt had snorted, then muttered, "Same way we did before him." before hanging up on the annoying reporter.

You know, compared to these leaches, Dina's not that bad…Walt thought bitterly.

He stared at the phone. He felt like calling someone, though he didn't know whom. Not Sarah, she probably wouldn't answer if she thought it was him. Not Bruce, they had never been particularly close. Definitely not Dina, because she would probably not be coherent.

Not Johnny because—

Because…

Because it would be odd? He asked himself. You didn't even like the man… on the heels of that, he thought So what?

Before he could change his mind, Walt picked up the phone and dialed Johnny. He got the answering machine (of course) and instantly felt the old resentment towards Johnny begin to rise when he heard the dead man's voice.

*beep*

"Johnny, it's Walt. Why the hell did you do that? You got yourself pumped full of lead by a couple of goons! How stupid! What, you didn't see that coming?" Walt blurted angrily. He took a deep breath before continuing. "You were right about Stillson. Of course. You just aren't happy unless you prove me wrong, huh? You always have to be right."

He shifted in his chair. "You had Sarah, but then you basically died. She was mine before you woke up! Why couldn't you just…just stay dead, huh? My life was perfect, but then you came back and took Sarah away, then dumped her for a reporter I warned you against!" He was breathing hard, and he had a pounding headache. "Jesus Christ. It's just one thing after another with you, isn't it? Comas, Kidnappings, Mine collapsing…never a dull day with you! Never more huh? Just like the bird!"

"You're just more important to Sarah then I ever could be. You came first, and I guess I hated you for it." Walt said wistfully. "I always wanted you to just drop off the face of the Earth and be out of our lives, but now that you are, my wife hates me. I guess she knew about my feelings. But, at least we're even, I know all about that night you two spent together."

Walt sighed again. "I just wanted to say that this time, would'ya stay dead?"

Walt hung up the phone, feeling strangely drained. Just stay dead he thought again, then grabbed his coat to go out for a walk.

A/N: Sorry, I always pictured Walt as TOTALLY detesting Johnny. I mean, how would you feel if you were him? Ah, well. Also, I didn't want anyone to feel too bad for him because of the last chapter, lol. Please review!