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1.
“Aw, c’mon Curtis, you’re not even a lil bit curious?” Curly Shepard asked Ponyboy as he leaned on the hood of his car. Ponyboy took a drag of his cigarette and turned horrified eyes onto Curly.
“No, Curly, what the hell? Why would you even ask me that?” he questioned. Curly just smirked at him and laughed aloud. He shrugged.
“Can’t blame a guy for bein’ curious,” Curly mumbled under his breath. Ponyboy shook his head at Curly and took another drag of his cigarette. Curly was hammered, and Pony knew it. He claimed he wasn’t, that he could hold his liquor just fine, but Pony knew better. He was just trying to stall a little bit in hopes that the effect would wear off a little before he sent Curly on his way to drive home. Curly lowered himself so he was fully lying on the hood and stared up at the stars.
“You ever stare at the stars, Curtis?” he asked. Pony tried to hide a smile as he put out his cigarette butt. Apparently Curly got philosophical when he was drunk. Who knew? He made his way over to Curly’s car and leaned back on it as well. Looking up, he could make out the big dipper. A little to the right, he made out Cassiopeia.
“Know any constellations, Curl-,” Ponyboy started, but was abruptly cut off by pure panic flooding his body. Before he could even fully register what was happening, Curly had launched his switchblade up towards the sky. Pony had never moved so fast in his life as he launched himself off of the hood of the car. Seconds later, the switchblade imbedded itself right where he had been laying. Right where his head had been, in fact. Curly just chuckled.
“Huh, guess you can’t hit any of ‘em,” he said.
“What the hell, Curly?! You could have killed me, you idiot!” he screamed at Curly, the fear he was feeling driving his anger more than anything. He doesn’t remember the last time he had so much adrenaline running through his body. Curly turned his head to look at Pony.
“Buuuuttt I didn’t,” he said. He winked at Ponyboy and turned his gaze back up to the stars. “Fetch me my blade, would ya?”
2.
Darry was going to kill him. He hadn’t meant to stay out this late, truly. He had gotten caught up in one of his research reports that was due next week, and had lost track of time. By the time he looked outside the library, it was dark already. Way past when he was supposed to be home. He was surprised Darry hadn’t already started hunting him down already. Maybe Darry was loosening up a little. He had grabbed his things in a hurry, shoving his books and papers into his backpack as he made his way to the front. He voiced a goodbye to Miss Adams, the librarian, as he walked out.
“Bye, hun, be careful walkin’ home,” she responded. Ponyboy gave her a nod and a wave as he pushed the door open. He paused and turned back around to face her.
“Could you tell me what time it is, Miss Adams?” She checked her watch.
“It’s a little after eight, hun,” she said, pushing her glasses back up on her face. Shit. He was screwed. He gave her a small smile, thanked her, and was on his way. He muttered a curse to himself as the crisp night air bit at his cheeks. He hadn’t brought a jacket with him, because it was fairly warm all day and he hadn’t expected to be out this late at the library. The temperature dropped so much at night these days. As soon as he got his backpack fully zipped up, he started putting a little more pep in his step. There was no way Darry wouldn’t kill him. He was two hours late. Darry had told him to be home by six. Why the hell hadn’t Darry sent out the whole calvary by now? Maybe Soda was able to calm him down a bit, talk him out of doing anything irrational. Still, didn’t sound like Darry. A rumble of an engine caught his attention and drew him out of his thoughts. He put his arms around himself in hopes of warming up a bit and turned around towards the sound. A black truck was cruising down the road, and if the swerving was any indication, the driver was most likely under the influence. He turned back around and hoped and prayed it wasn’t drunk Socs looking for some trouble. The engine revved again, and he spared a glance back. The driver had sped up, but not before he slammed his brakes, causing them to squeal in protest. Ponyboy shook his head as he sped up a little more. Now he was starting to get a little freaked out. He didn’t know what the hell was going on with this person. He really wishes Darry would have freaked out and came looking for him.
Luckily, he was nearing an alley up ahead that he could just turn on and go another way home. It’ll be fine, he reassured himself. He’ll turn on the alley and he’ll lose the guy. Just as things were starting to look up for him, the engine started up once again. Ponyboy cursed inwardly and turned around. Just as he did so, his heart leapt into his throat. The driver was barreling forward, but rather than going straight, the truck had swerved sideways towards the sidewalk, right towards Ponyboy. His breath caught in his throat as fear flooded his whole body. Having wasted enough time already, he ditched his backpack that was slung on his back and started bolting the rest of the way towards the alley. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as the approaching vehicle gained on him. He could hear the truck barreling over things in its path: the phone booth, the newspaper stand. He just hoped he wasn’t next. He practically threw himself into the alley as soon as he approached it. His knees gave out immediately and he watched as the truck whizzed by, the sound of wreckage following. He let out a sob as he tried to catch his breath. He had never been so damn happy to be a track star until this very moment. He put his head in his hands as the adrenaline started to die down. He groaned as he remembered his backpack he had ditched. He chuckled to himself as he debated what Darry would be more pissed about: him being late, possibly ruining his backpack and everything inside, or almost being killed in a hit or run. Dealer’s choice.
3.
“Here is your water and your toast,” Two-Bit said, setting the plate and glass down on the coffee table, “your majesty.” Ponyboy thanked him with a pointed glare. He had been bedridden for days now, recovering from a nasty cold that had then turned into pneumonia. Figures, right? He knew things were starting to get bad when he was two weeks in with the cold, and one night he suddenly had a hard time breathing. He had been rudely awakened in the middle of the night by a coughing fit, which ended up leaving him winded and unable to catch his breath. His brothers hadn’t been willing to take any chances, so they took him straight to the emergency room. A few hours, and many of Darry’s future paychecks, later, he was dismissed and headed home with a prescription of meds and rest. He had been strewn out on the living room couch now for going on a week and a half and he was about at his wit’s end. All he could do on a day-to-day basis was sleep, watch TV, take meds, and then take more meds. He wasn’t up for much else due to the exhaustion that plagued his body. The piles of homework Two-Bit had been bringing home for him was starting to stack up in his room and it was giving him anxiety. He was screwed. He was going to be behind for weeks. He just didn’t have any energy to get started on any of the assignments. Darry had tried to get him to start on one of his math assignments the other night, but he didn’t even make it 20 minutes in before he fell asleep. When he woke up, he was in bed next to Sodapop, with the math homework unfinished and back where it had originally been, along with the other assignments. Ponyboy sighed.
“Thanks, Two,” he said. His stomach gave a twirl as he stared at the toast. It was practically a feat in itself to eat these days. He had to force himself most of the time and it only left him feeling nauseous in the end. But he was unable to take any of his meds on an empty stomach, so he had to. Two-Bit presented a hand to Ponyboy, which held the dreaded meds. Ponyboy begrudgingly took them and popped them into his mouth. He downed them with water and stared down the toast. Now came the best part.
Two bites in, the toast tasted like the worst thing he had ever consumed. It had an awful metallic taste and he had to force himself to swallow it. Two-Bit turned on the TV as Pony ate. The sudden volume of the TV startled him, and the headache he was donning became a little more noticeable. He took one more bite of his toast before he couldn’t take it anymore. Throwing the blanket off of himself, he started getting up and making his way towards the bathroom.
“Where ya headed, Pone?” Two-Bit asked, calling out to him but never taking his eyes off the TV. Ponyboy rolled his eyes. Everyone suddenly became a helicopter parent when he was sick.
“Gotta piss, Two,” he mumbled. He received no answer as he entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He didn’t actually need to use the bathroom. He came in here to hunt for something to knock out this headache. He could tell that if it went on for much longer, it was going to turn into a full-on migraine. He didn’t need that on top of everything else. He took out the Aspirin and stared at the bottle. He usually takes four or five to knock out his headaches, depending on how bad they are. This was a bad one, and he would usually take five for it. Although, the doctor strongly advised him not to pair any pain medication with the pneumonia medication he was taking. Darry had taken that warning very seriously and gave him a lecture on it when he got home. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to take a few? Two usually did nothing for him, so he shook three out of the bottle. The white pills stared back at him as he hesitated. What was so bad about taking pain medication with the prescription? With a shrug, he raised the pills towards his mouth, when a knock on the door interrupted him.
“Pony, you in there? You feelin’ okay?” a voice sounded from the other side. He immediately recognized it as Darry’s voice. He must have just gotten home. Just as he opened his mouth to answer, the door started opening. Apparently two seconds of silence was unacceptable, and surely he was dying, according to Darry. Darry peaked his head in, his concerned eyes meeting Pony’s, then traveling down to Pony’s hand. His concern morphed into anger, and the door was opened wide the rest of the way. Darry’s hand grabbed his wrist in a matter of seconds, and his other hand removed the pills Pony had tried to consume moments ago.
“What the hell are you doing, Pony?” Darry said, anger and frustration lacing his words. Not knowing what to say, he just shrugged. Nice one, Pony. Nice one. “What did the doctor say? What did I say? No mixing pain meds with your prescription, Pone.” He put the pills back into the bottle, then the bottle back into the medicine cabinet, each movement louder than the last. He slammed the medicine cabinet shut and stared at Ponyboy.
“You know you could have overdosed on that stuff, right?” Ponyboy gave him a blank stare. Oh, he thought. He guesses if he would have actually stopped and thought it through a little more, he would have eventually come to the conclusion that hey, maybe he should listen to the medical professional who strongly advised he not do this. Damn it. Just yet another situation in which he didn’t use his head. Two-Bit appeared behind Darry then and looked from Darry to Ponyboy.
“What’s happening, what did I miss?” he asked. Darry shook his head and left the bathroom. Ponyboy sighed and his shoulders slumped. Now Darry was pissed, he still felt like shit, and still had this god-awful headache. Two-Bit continued to stare him down.
“I’ve got a death wish, didn’t you hear?” Ponyboy stated sarcastically, and pushed his way past Two-Bit, back to deposit himself on the living room couch where he would continue to rot away.
4.
The Curtis brothers didn’t come by candy often. It was an unfortunate, reality, really. Chocolate cake, sure. They could eat that all day every day, but it wasn’t exciting. It’s exciting when it’s candy. It was a few days after Halloween, and Two-Bit had brought over some of his sister’s candy he had stolen from her loot. Which, of course, she didn’t know about. Ponyboy was sure it would have broken her heart to find out Two-Bit took some of it.
They were all smiling and happy. They hadn’t had an evening like this in a while. The gang was all here, minus Steve, who had to work a little late, but would be on his way soon after. They were all sat on the front porch of the Curtis house, the sun setting along the horizon, the crisp fall air casting a slight chill. Ponyboy pulled his sweatshirt sleeves down a little farther, covering his hands. He popped a few peanut M&Ms into his awaiting mouth. The chocolate dissolved in his mouth as he bit into the crunchy peanut core. Damn, he couldn’t remember the last time he had these.
He leaned back on his hands and his eyes wandered up to the sunset. They never get old, he thought. It was nights like these, ones filled with family, sunsets, and laughter, that he missed Johnny and Dally the most. It was nights like these when the hole they left behind felt bigger and deeper than ever. He popped another M&M into his mouth. He was rudely ejected from his thoughts when two hands gripped his shoulders, shaking him slightly. His breath hitched at the sudden touch and then he froze. The peanut M&M he was so thoroughly enjoying moments ago, was now lodged in his throat.
“Gettin’ lost in the sunset again, Pone?” Two-Bit joked, shaking his shoulders again roughly. Ponyboy weakly tried swatting his hands away, desperate for Two-Bit to let him go. He was unable to take in any air, and he was panicking. Getting jerked around was not helping. Two-Bit let him go, chuckling, and pat him on the back. Ponyboy leaned forward, trying to relieve the pain that was starting to blossom in his chest from his lungs being starved of the precious oxygen he so badly needed. He tried coughing, to no avail. Two-Bit was back to talking to Darry and Sodapop. Ponyboy blindly reached a hand behind him, reaching out and hoping he got Two-Bit’s attention. His hand met Two-Bit’s calf, and he pat it a few times in desperation. The anxiety he was feeling was not helping the pain he was feeling in his chest. Two-Bit laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Pony?” he asked, leaning forward to try and get a good look at Ponyboy’s face. He was unsure as to what was going on, but Pony was hunched over and had seemed tense when Two-Bit had laid his hand on his shoulder. “Did I scare you or somethin’?” he asked, chuckling a little. He leaned forward even more. Ponyboy was weakly hitting his chest, seemingly distressed, his eyes wild and searching.
“Pony?” he asked again, setting into action and positioning himself so he was crouched in front of the kid. “Hey, what’s going on?” Ponyboy made eye contact with him and shook his head. Darry and Sodapop had noticed the commotion and were now up as well. Sodapop appeared in Ponyboy’s vision suddenly, face contorting into one of concern when he saw his baby brother’s face. His lips were beginning to turn a sick shade of blue.
“Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on? Can you breathe?” Soda asked, now inches from his brother’s face and holding it in his hands. Ponyboy weakly shook his head no, his eyes appearing misty. “No?” Soda vocalized, concern lacing his words as he turned a hopeless gaze towards Darry. Black dots started filling his vision as he held onto Soda’s wrists with a death grip. As if his brother’s touch alone would provide him some relief from what he was experiencing. Darry was in his line of view as well, then, and Two-Bit was gone.
“What do you mean you can’t breathe? What happened?” Darry voiced, coming off as anger more than concern. He took in Ponyboy’s blue tinged lips and his innate need to take control kicked into full drive. “Two-Bit! What the hell happened?!” He yelled then, needing to know what it was that was causing his brother to be unable to draw in any air. Two-Bit shook his head and he struggled to find words.
“I-I don’t know, I just touched him, and then he was hunched over, I don’t know what happened,” Two-Bit rambled. Darry shook his head and lightly pushed Sodapop aside, so he was fully facing Ponyboy. “Hey, Pony, can you look at me?” he said. Ponyboy tried looking at him, he really did, he just wasn’t able to see him all that well anymore. He was mostly just a blur in front of him. Darry patted his face lightly. He once again brought a hand up to his chest. It was Sodapop who made the connection then, taking in the candy wrappers on the porch.
“Shit, he’s choking, Dar! He’s choking!” Soda vocalized, hitting Darry on the arm. It was a rush of movement, then, and Ponyboy felt lightheaded as he was suddenly picked up and situated upright. He was mostly deadweight as Darry held him up, and he cursed whatever the hell Darry was doing to him as the pain in his chest amplified times ten. He so badly wanted to tell him to stop, that he was hurting him, but he couldn’t. He heard Sodapop screaming in the background, and he wondered vaguely if Soda was yelling at Darry for hurting him.
The offensive object that was lodged in his throat was on the ground then, and Pony could only describe it as the most magical feeling. He coughed, and his knees met solid ground as he was lowered, Darry’s arms still around him. Sodapop had his face in his hands again, searching Pony’s face wildly. Pony sobbed as he took in big gulps of air, almost hyperventilating at the need to fill his lungs with oxygen once again. Darry rubbed his back in hopes of some sort of relief.
“Honey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Soda was saying to him, wiping away his tears with his thumbs. Pony coughed and sputtered as he tried to absorb all of the air around him, as if he couldn’t get enough. Soda brought his forehead against his and put a hand on the back of his head. He heard shuffling of feet and then Two-Bit was there.
“Damn it, Pony, anyone ever told you about the universal sign of choking?!”
5.
Ponyboy checked the clock for the fourth time that hour. Soda was supposed to get off an hour ago, but a customer had come in right before he was about to get off, and he had been a loyal customer of theirs for years. Soda being the one who usually serviced his car, couldn’t turn him down. Ponyboy was now really starting to regret coming to the DX after school. He should have just walked home and gotten a head start on his homework. Curse his procrastination. Soda rolled himself out from underneath the customer’s car, which was jacked up. He let out a breath as he wiped his hands on a rag.
“So uh, how much longer do you think, Soda?” Ponyboy asked, his gaze on his shoe he was mashing into the dirt.
“What, this isn’t fun for you, Pone?” Soda jokingly asked, ruffling his hair. Ponyboy swatted his hand away and Soda chuckled. “It’ll be just a few more minutes, honest. I just gotta go grab a couple of things and this’ll be finished up in no time.” Ponyboy nodded and watched Sodapop walk away. He looked back to the car that was jacked up. His curiosity getting the better of him, he walked towards it. It was a nice car, he’ll admit it. The guy driving it didn’t look like much of a greaser, either. Maybe the DX was the best place he got service, and so he trusted them with his car. The DX does have two of the best mechanics. Well, one at least. He smiled to himself as he imagined Steve’s reaction to him saying that. His attention shifted when his foot kicked the creeper that was sticking out from under the car. He eyed it. Taking a few steps back in search for Soda, he noticed him talking with the customer while he searched for the tools he needed. Surely Soda wouldn’t mind if he just took a peek under the car? Hell, isn’t this what Soda wanted? Pony taking an interest in cars? Without a second thought, Pony crouched down and started laying himself along the creeper. Once he was situated, he rolled himself under the car. The first thing he realized was that it was a tight squeeze under there. He knew it would be, but it was definitely worse than he’d imagined. Looking up, he had to squint to help his eyes adjust. So, if under the hood holds the “guts” of the car, then what is all of this stuff? The bones? The ribcage? What does any of this stuff even do? He reached a hand up to touch a part, but the car let out a dreadful groan, and he froze. What was that? A crack was heard to his left, and he whipped his head towards the sound.
“-doesn’t sound good…” He could vaguely hear Sodapop’s voice getting closer over the wretched noises the car was making. “Who’s that?” another voice this time, but not Soda’s. The car let out another groan.
“Ponyboy?! What the hell are you doing, get out of there!” Sodapop screamed, but it sounded so far away. The groaning got louder, and he scrambled to roll himself out from under the car. He heard skidding on the ground and suddenly his legs were being grabbed and he was forcibly dragged out. His head had just cleared the edge of the car when the jack gave way, and the car collapsed to the ground. He sat up in horror and stared at the carnage behind him. Soda’s hands were now tightly on his waist, his grip growing stronger every passing second. Ponyboy let out a shaky breath.
“Fuck!” the customer yelled somewhere in the background, but Pony couldn’t care less. He couldn’t take his eyes off the car. The car that had almost crushed him. If Soda hadn’t reacted so quickly, he’d be dead right now. Soda moved his hands up Ponyboy’s chest, to his shoulders, which he gripped forcefully.
“Pony? Pone, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” he asked, and Ponyboy looked away from the car and to Soda. Soda was too busy scanning Ponyboy’s body for injuries to meet his gaze. He grabbed Soda’s wrists.
“I’m fine, I’m okay,” he said, and Soda looked at him. There was pure fear adorning his gaze, and his hands shook in Pony’s hold. He was in Soda’s arms the next second, the power of it sending the creeper he was still sitting on rolling back slightly.
“Hey, what the fuck did you do to my car, man?!” the customer voiced, pointing accusatorily at Ponyboy. Soda gripped him a little tighter in his arms.
“Oh, shut up,” Soda whispered in Ponyboy’s ear, which earned him a low chuckle from his brother.
“This is the last time I come back here, grease! Knew I shouldn’t have trusted this place…,” the customer trailed off as he made his way back inside the DX. Soda sniffed and released Ponyboy. He gripped his shoulder in reassurance and Ponyboy noticed tears railing down his brother’s face. Soda quickly wiped them away.
“Eh, didn’t like the prick anyways…,” Soda mumbled, looking back towards the customer.
6.
To say he was angry was an understatement. He was bordering on furious. Darry had forgotten to pick him up after track practice, meaning Pony had to walk home. Which was not a big deal, but it was just the icing on the cake at this point. He and Darry had been skating on thin ice with one another recently, thing after thing happening, just stacking up, and things were about ready to boil over. They had promised Soda they wouldn’t fight anymore, though, and so they had kept their heads. Ponyboy just couldn’t shake the thought that if he did something like this to Darry, Darry would be beyond pissed at him. Boy, was it going to be hard for Ponyboy to bite his tongue on this one. He opened the gate surrounding his house a little too forcefully, and slammed it shut behind him. With the momentum he had, he hurled himself up the steps to the front door. Although, what his foot ended up coming into contact with was not the first step, but rather none other than Darry’s football. If it had been any other day, any other damn day, he would have taken the fall in stride and caught himself, but he was exhausted from practice and his anger was blinding much of his conscious. He tripped quite ungracefully over the football, his ankle bending at an uncomfortable angle. He was unable to throw his hands out in time to catch himself, and he instead landed rather hard on his abdomen. He let out a pained yelp as he fell, the pain receptors in his body firing off warning shots as the pain started to bloom. He balled up his fist and hit it against the front porch in anger and let out a hiss at he slowly picked himself up. He unfolded his body slowly and carefully in hopes of not jostling too much and making anything worse. Once he was back to his full height, he let out a heavy sigh and made his way inside.
“Hey, Pone! Just in time for dinner!” Soda exclaimed, the sound of the dishes clanking as he set the table. Pony looked at him, and then looked to Darry behind him, who was finishing up dinner. He took in Ponyboy’s attire, and a look of shock crossed his face.
“Oh, shoot, Ponyboy. I’m so sorry, I completely forgot - ,” Darry started, but Ponyboy just waved him off.
“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna shower, I’ll be back.” And with that, Ponyboy slammed the bathroom door shut behind him.
A few days and numerous awkward attempted apologies from Darry later, Ponyboy reluctantly forgave him. It had taken a while for his anger to simmer down, especially since he was still in pain from his tumble on the front porch. After a brief once-over in the mirror this morning while changing for school, he was shocked to see just how bad the bruising was. He hadn’t even expected to bruise, honestly, so to see anything at all was a shock to him. He hadn’t checked the first night, or the one after that, so he had no idea what it started out as, but it covered a majority of his abdomen at the moment. Not to mention it still hurt a hell of a lot. His ankle didn’t even hurt this bad, and he had thought he sprained it pretty good on that football. With careful and calculated movements, he had finished getting dressed and didn’t give it any other thought.
Alright, things were starting to get a little… concerning, Ponyboy thought as he sat up slowly in bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and clutched his abdomen, trying to wait out the wave of pain that had followed as he got up, along with the nausea. He had told the guys he was going to his bedroom to go and do homework, but in reality, he had just gone to lay down. It had been a long, and painful, day at school and he just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. He was starting to get a little more concerned about his little tumble. It might have ended up doing more damage than he had originally thought. He stood up slowly, taking deep breaths and trying to blink away the black dots that filled his vision. Using the wall as his support, he made his way into the bathroom. He flinched at the image that greeted him in the mirror when he flicked the lights on. To put it frank, he looked like absolute shit. He was pale, sweaty, and had huge bags under his eyes that had only gotten progressively worse over the last few days. He let out a shaky breath as he lifted his shirt with shaking hands. His breath hitched. This was not good, this was not good, this was not good. There was no way this was normal. There was just no way. Black, blue, and purple marred his abdomen, bleeding every which way. There was almost no blank space that wasn’t painted with the primary colors. He brushed shaking fingers along an area, and he pulled his hand away as if he’d been burned. The pain had been almost immediate, and the area was warm to the touch. He slowly rolled his shirt down and looked at his reflection again. Alright, time to tell his brothers. This was not something that looked like it was going to be going away any time soon. He once again held onto the wall for support as he made his way out to the living room. He could hear the TV blaring, along with Steve and Soda’s bickering over their game of cards. Two-Bit gave him a mindless wave as he entered the room, never once breaking eye contact with the screen. He made his way into the kitchen, over to where Soda, Steve, and Darry were in the middle of what looked to be an intense card game.
“Hey…,” he started shakily, but almost immediately was cut off by Steve. “Kid, now’s not a good time, we’re kind of in the middle of something.” None of them even looked up. Steve slammed a card down on the table and Soda clicked his tongue in disapproval.
“What is it, Pony?” Soda asked absentmindedly. Darry took one last look at his cards, shook his head, and then took his eyes off the game. His chair scraped along the floor in his haste as he stood up. Ponyboy took a step back at his reaction. Did he really look that bad? All the heads in the room were suddenly facing him, abandoning everything they had once been focused on.
“Pony?” Darry whispered, making his way over to him and putting his hands on his shoulders. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His hands were on Pony’s face now, checking his forehead for a fever. He did feel a little warm, now that he thought about it. Within seconds, Soda was there too, eyebrows knitted together in concern.
“Jesus, honey,” Soda said, rubbing his hand up and down Pony’s arm.
“Soda, go get the thermometer,” Darry said, grabbing Ponyboy’s shoulders and directing him into the living room, sitting him on the couch. Two-Bit turned the TV off, then, and Ponyboy cursed the sudden silence. He knew he looked bad, but this seemed a bit extreme.
“Dar, there’s somethin’ I need to show you…,” Pony said, meeting Darry’s gaze as his brother kneeled down in front of him. Darry nodded, his hands squeezing Pony’s knees in support. Soda came back in the room, then, thermometer in hand. Steve followed along behind him. The audience made Ponyboy uncomfortable. He once again repeated the movements he went through in the bathroom and shakily lifted up his shirt. There was an audible gasp that reverberated through the living room and Ponyboy’s gaze darted from Darry to Soda. Soda dropped the thermometer onto the coffee table and sat on the couch next to Pony.
“Shit, kid,” Steve said, putting his hand over his mouth.
“Pony, what happened?!” Soda asked, lifting up Ponyboy’s shirt even more to fully examine the damage. “Oh, honey,” he whispered, horrified. Ponyboy looked back to Darry, who looked equally as horrified. Darry leaned in closer and brushed his fingers along the bruises. Pony let out a gasp of pain as he did so, and Darry retracted his hand, eyes meeting Pony’s.
“D-don’t… hurts too much,” Pony gasped out. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the attention and removed Soda’s hand from his shirt. He pushed his shirt back down.
“Ponyboy, this is bad, honey,” Darry said, and Ponyboy was overcome with emotion. He just nodded at him and put his hands in his lap.
“Bad?! Jesus, Darry, he looks like he got run over by a car,” Steve piped in, hand shooting out to gesture to Ponyboy. Soda started rubbing his hand up and down Pony’s arm again. Darry shot Steve a look and Steve scoffed in annoyance.
“Dar?” Soda asked, looking at Darry expectantly.
“Alright, we’re gonna take you to the hospital, okay, Pone? This isn’t something a first-aid kit is gonna fix,” Darry said, lifting himself up off the ground. Ponyboy shook his head.
“No, no, can’t we…? I don’t know… I don’t want to go to the hospital, Dar,” he begged. He knew there was nothing that could be done about this here, but he really didn’t want to go to the hospital. He leaned forward on the couch, letting out a pained yelp from the movement. He hunched over, clutching his abdomen. Soda’s hands were on him, rubbing his back as he rode out the pain, whispering reassurances in his ear. He looked up to Darry in concern.
“I know, honey, I know,” Darry said, running an anxious hand through Pony’s hair. “There’s nothin’ I can do for you, though, Pone, and this is bad, baby. I – I…,” he stuttered, at a loss for words. The bruises that painted his baby brother’s abdomen had horrified him, stunned him, and he wanted nothing more than to kill whoever had done this to him.
Ponyboy could tell Darry was scared, and that was starting to scare him even more. If Darry was this freaked out, then this must be more serious than Ponyboy had originally thought. And he thought it was already pretty damn serious. He nodded at Darry’s words.
“Two-Bit, go start the car,” Steve said, tossing his keys to Two-Bit. Two-Bit complied with no hesitation and was gone.
“Alright, honey, we’re gonna help you, okay? Just lean on us,” Soda said, carefully lifting one of Ponyboy’s arms and placing it around his neck. He went to put his other hand around Ponyboy’s waist, but Darry urgently warned him not to touch him there. Mentally kicking himself, he nodded. Darry took Ponyboy’s other side, and they worked together to get Ponyboy upright. They waited for Ponyboy’s permission to move. The pain was almost unbearable at this point, and Ponyboy wanted to throw up. The black dots were back again, and no matter how much he tried to blink them away, they lingered.
“Guys… something’s…something’s wrong…,” Ponyboy vocalized, shaking his head. He could hear his heartbeat beating a mile a minute in his ears, and Soda’s voice next to him sounded like he was underwater. Before he knew it, his knees gave out and darkness consumed him. Steve rushed forward as Ponyboy started falling.
“Shit, Darry, Darry!” Soda yelled as Ponyboy started to fall. They both scrambled to catch him, the concern of possibly hurting him out the door. Soda let out a choked sob as he took on Ponyboy’s weight and tried desperately to get a look at his brother’s face.
“Pony? Pone?” he asked, removing himself out from under Pony’s arm and positioning himself in front of him. Darry took on most of Ponyboy’s weight then, sinking to the floor with Pony and leaning him against him. Steve stood off to the side awkwardly, not knowing what to do with himself.
“Pony, please, baby,” Soda begged, cupping Ponyboy’s cheek.
“Shit,” Darry cursed, panic flooding his body as he tried to maneuver himself under his baby brother’s deadweight. “Soda?” he asked desperately, needing to know something, anything. He was unable to see Ponyboy’s face, just knew something was so very wrong with him.
“He’s out cold, Dar, he won’t wake up,” Soda said, shaking his head as tears rolled down his face.
“He needs a goddamn hospital, damnit!” Steve yelled, his adrenaline channeling itself into anger. Anger at the situation and anger at the helplessness he was feeling. The unintended harshness seemed to do the trick for Darry, and he was pushed into action.
“Okay, okay, help me get him up, Steve,” Darry commanded, shifting his weight. He grunted with the effort, and Steve grabbed under the kid’s armpits to help lift some of his weight. Once Darry was up, he scooped Ponyboy into his arms. Soda scrambled to get the front door open for him, and they rushed out into the piercing cold night, out to the rumbling engine of Steve’s truck.
The first thing Ponyboy noticed upon coming back among the land of the living was the overwhelming smell of antiseptic. The second thing was the pain, golly, the pain. It was a persistent throbbing – he could feel it along every inch of his abdomen. He scrunched his eyebrows together as the pain in his head made itself known as well. Seemingly all at once, a symphony of sounds hit him. The constant beeping to his left, the anxious tapping of a shoe on the ground to his right, and the low hum of his brothers talking on either side of him. The voices paused, a shuffle was heard, and then a “Pony?” Shoes squeaked along the tile floor. Both of his hands were squeezed. He hadn’t even realized his hands were being held.
“Pony, can you hear us?” Soda, his mind supplied. He tried opening his eyes, but the pain that followed caused him to quickly close them again. He squeezed them tighter and let out a low moan.
“Steve, can you turn down the lights a bit?” Darry asked from somewhere to his left. More shuffling, more shoes squeaking along the floor, and even though his eyes were closed, he knew the lights were dimmer. He tried opening his eyes once more, and no pain greeted him in return. As his eyes adjusted, he took in his surroundings. Darry was sat to his left, Soda directly across from him on his right. Steve lingered awkwardly behind Soda, hovering near the door. Two-Bit was sat in a chair in the corner, leaning forward as he watched what was happening.
“Hey, honey,” Soda said, his voice soft and Ponyboy could sense the relief in his voice. Two-Bit smiled from his chair in the corner.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, kid!” he uttered, and Steve shook his head at him from his spot by the door. Darry squeezed his hand.
“How are you feelin’, Pone?” Ponyboy looked at him and shrugged.
“Hurts,” was all he said. Darry nodded.
“Well, I would imagine. You just had surgery, honey,” Soda said, picking at a piece of lint on the blanket. Surgery? He had had surgery? When? He couldn’t remember anything. The last thing he remembered was planning on telling Darry and Soda about the bruising… right, the bruising.
When Ponyboy didn’t answer, Darry piped in. “You had internal bleeding, Pone. All that bruising you showed us… you were bleedin’ from the inside.” Darry swallowed. Internal bleeding?! How… what? He couldn’t wrap his mind around anything at the moment. Everything was happening so fast.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner, Pony? Who did that to you?” Soda asked, his voice cracking. Who? Ponyboy shook his head.
“No… it’s not what you think,” he mumbled. What were they even talking about? Everyone in the room gave him confused looks. He closed his eyes again, willing away the pounding in his head. “I don’t understand…,” he said. Soda moved his hand to Ponyboy’s thigh and rubbed it soothingly.
“It’s okay, Pony. You’re probably still a bit groggy from the medication.” Ponyboy opened his eyes again and Soda gave him a reassuring smile. Did he think someone gave him those bruises? Steve hit Two-Bit on the arm, then, and gestured towards the door. Two-Bit nodded and got up.
“Hey, Two and I are gonna head down to the cafeteria for a bit, you guys want anything?” Steve asked, hand moving towards the door. Darry and Soda nodded their heads no, and Soda gave Steve a small smile in thanks. Ponyboy licked his lips and found his voice.
“No one did anythin’ to me…,” he said. Steve and Two-Bit stopped what they were doing and averted their attention back to Ponyboy. Soda leaned forward and opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
“What are you saying, Pony? No one did this to you?” Darry asked. Ponyboy shook his head. He was slow to catch up, trying to fight past all of the fog clouding his mind, but he suddenly realized what they were implying.
“No…,” he said, and then groaned. It was embarrassing, now that he thought of it. Tripping over a football on the front porch had caused this much damage? Had caused him to start bleeding internally? He almost wishes someone would have beat him up, it would have been a better story in the end. “I… I tripped.” Steve squinted his eyes in distrust and crossed his arms.
“You tripped?” Soda asked, suspicious.
“How?” Steve questioned.
“It was the day Dar forgot to pick me up from practice. I was going up the stairs to the front porch and I tripped on the football…,” Ponyboy averted his gaze downwards and started picking at a string on the blanket. “It’s embarrassing…”
Steve shook his head and put a hand up. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re tellin’ me you tripped on a football and it did this to you? I’m not buyin’ it.” Two-Bit hit him on the arm and Steve gave him a glare.
“I couldn’t catch myself in time… I fell pretty hard. I didn’t think it would get this bad…,” he trailed off. Darry removed his hand from Ponyboy’s and ran it down his face. Ponyboy knew what was going through Darry’s head, and he didn’t like it.
“Geez, if I would have just remembered - ,” Darry started, but Ponyboy cut him off. “Don’t, Dar.” Darry just looked at him.
“Yeah I mean c’mon, muscles, the kid could have slipped and fallen even if you had picked him up. Kid’s just got bad luck,” Two-Bit said, trying to lighten the mood.
“At least I would have been there, I could have - ,” this time Soda cut him off.
“Darry, stop. You’re gonna drive yourself mad. He’s okay, that’s all that matters.” Darry didn’t like it, but it shut him up. Ponyboy could tell it still bothered him, though, and that it would bother him for a while. It was going to take some time for him to get over it, and Ponyboy anticipated a lot of hovering the next few weeks.
“We’re gonna have to bubble wrap the whole house, put covers on all the light switches, cover all the sharp corners…,” Two-Bit jokingly said, listing things off one-by-one with his fingers. Laughter echoed throughout the room and Ponyboy smiled as he caught Darry crack a smile.
“Chew his food for him…,” Soda said, letting out a hearty laugh as Ponyboy lightly swatted at him.
“I vote we just put him in one big childproof bubble,” Steve said, leaning against the wall.
Darry shook his head and chuckled. “No, he’d find a way to hurt himself in there, too.” Ponyboy smirked.
“Alright, alright…,” he mumbled.