Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own "The Outsiders" or any of the Curtis' Gang. Sigh. The real owner of "The Outsiders" is the best author of all time, S.E. Hinton. I also do not make a profit from the stories that I write on this site.
Two-Bit's POV
Gunshots rang out through the streets and our buddy Dallas dropped. I looked over at Ponyboy. He was pale and swaying, looking very unsteady on his feet.
"Glory, look at that kid!" One of the cops screamed as Ponyboy dropped. In an instant Soda was at his side, shaking him and begging him to wake up. He never once woke up. I finally found my feet and ran to his side. Sweat was beaded on his forehead. I could feel the heat radiating off if him. Realization dawned on me.
The fever! I should have told Darry, it was all my fault, I thought.
Guilt was lacing my features as I watched Darry pick him up and run him to the truck. I followed Steve and hopped into the bed of the truck, chewing nervously on my finger nails.
(Later that night)
The doctor came out she told us the news on Ponyboy. He has a concussion, shock, exhaustion and a fever. And it was all my fault.
Instead of following everyone to Ponyboy's room, I ran outside. I buried my head into my hands and I was surprised to find tears in my hands.
I guess I never did forget how to cry, I thought.
I was shocked when I heard footsteps behind me and saw Darry. Worry lines were etched into his face.
I threw myself at him, crying.
"It's all my fault Darry! I knew he was sick, but I didn't say anything. I thought I was doing him a favor, but I wasn't. I'm so sorry," I balled. I let go of him and cowered back, waiting for the blow. I cocked me eyebrow when I felt none. I looked at Darry and he sure did look angry.
"Two-bit," he sighed," Just… Just don't do it again, okay? That kid hasn't told anyone he was ill since he learned how to talk."
I remembered that, he had the stomach flu when he was eight, but never told anybody. He kept it from everyone for about three or four days until his fever spiked to 102.5 and Mrs. Curtis noticed he was pale and sweaty in the middle of winter.
I nodded and Darry grabbed my shoulders.
"Good, but if you can't handle it, don't go in his room. He's delirious," Darry told me. I thought about it and then nodded.
When I walked in there I saw that he really was delirious. He was thrashing and screaming for Johnny. The sight of him brought tears to my grey eyes.
But, like Darry said, he was going to be okay. My jaw wasn't broken and Ponyboy was released the next morning and woke up on Tuesday.
A/N: This ending was so dumb. I really hated this, but I hope it was entertaining. It's just over 550 words, which is too short, but it's all I got. I'll take any suggestions because I am out of ideas for new stories, but would love to write more.