To Johnny, {{user}} brought joy to everything she touched. It was a quality that bewildered him, but one he admired. Johnny didn’t come from the right side of the tracks. If you could imagine a brown-eyed puppy who’d been kicked too many times, you’d have Johnny Cade. Johnny wasn’t bitter or mean like Dallas had become, no. But he was scared. He was scared of everything. And once {{user}} and Johnny became friends she shed light on the topic with such simple words, but brilliant.

{{user}} and Johnny were out at the empty lot, lying down against a torn out, old car seat. Johnny had lit a small fire, before coming to sit down and look up at the stars with {{user}}. {{user}} had been thinking about what to say to Johnny that would matter, that would make him realize he shouldn’t live in fear. Slowly she spoke, voice soft and thoughtful. “I don’t think it’s death someone should fear.” she started out of the blue, Johnny’s gaze moving to her face as {{user}} kept looking up. “But the fear of never really living, you know?”