Authors Note:

It goes without saying that I do not own The Outsiders; therefore I do not own the characters or the core storyline. All that jazz belongs to the wonderful mind S.E. Hinton.

With that out of the way, I'm an avid fan of The Outsiders and have been for 15+ years. I've had the basis of this story in my mind for over 10 years but I've never written it down before. Guess there's a first time for everything. I've never written a fan fiction story before & I've gathered that there's a lot of animosity towards Curtis sister storylines but I will try not to make it cliché. If you don't like it, you don't have to read it I guess (but I hope you do!) Oh, please keep in mind that the first few chapters will be kinda slow- reintroducing Hinton's characters and introducing my own while also trying to establish relationships. (And I'm going with the characters descriptions form the movie mostly; it's just easier for me that way.) So without further ado, here we go!

Chapter 1

(Billie's POV)

Another nightmare.

I rolled over in my bed to face away from the wall. I brushed my long, wavy golden brown hair away from my face and listened to the silence of the house. It was still dark out and my brothers were still fast asleep. I couldn't read the clock on top of my dresser but it hardly mattered. I was awake and knew I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep. Rarely do I ever sleep through the night, at least for the past year or so- 412 days to be exact, because on the night of February 14, 1965, everything changed. That Valentine's Day was my parent's 20th and last wedding anniversary.

That was what I dreamt of- another nightmare although I guess you could say that it wasn't really a nightmare. More like a haunting memory- a memory that I've re-lived hundreds of times, asleep and awake: the night that the police officers came to our door and somberly informed us that we, my older brothers Darry and Sodapop, me, and my younger brother Ponyboy, were now orphans.

I didn't want these dreams. I didn't need these dreams. I happened to remember just fine without them. I remember my sweet little brother Pony's hysterical sobbing as I held him. I remember wanting to protect him from this pain, just as I always want to, but knew that it was impossible. I remember my loving Sodapop, who lost the reckless and lively look in his dark blue eyes and bawled as he wrapped his arms around his two younger siblings as if they provided him with some sort of life support. I remember Darry's face, stricken with grief and pale as a ghost with tears silently streaming as he tried to be strong, to be stoic, for his younger brothers and sister who were falling apart at the seams. I remember missing my parents already just knowing I would never hear their voices again. I would never kiss them good night again, never hug them again, never be held by them again. I would never have another girl-to-girl talk with my mother again. My father would never walk me down the aisle. I remember sobbing for them, for my brothers, and for me- we had been robbed of memories we would never have.

I didn't always dream of that night though. Mostly, I dreamt of the aftermath. See, my brother Darry, who had just turned 19 about a month before my parent's car accident, was appointed as Soda's, mine's, and Pony's temporary guardian as per my parent's will. The State of Oklahoma didn't find this to be a feasible option apparently because a trial was arranged to determine whether or not Darry was capable and suitable to raise three teenagers. Soda and Pony were a hard sell mostly because Darry's young age but the state was almost determined with putting me in a girls home- as they put it, what would a Darry know about caring for a young girl just entering woman hood while he was barely entering man hood himself? If I had any doubt at all whether or not Darry cared for me, that was settled in the court. He fought tooth and nail and I knew then that if I was taken from my boys, nothing would keep me away from them. Luckily, the state realized this and after setting a few regulations, Darry was officially our legal guardian- although, they made it clear that one screw up could cost us all. But in my dreams, the outcome was always different than that of reality. I dreamt that the courts ruled for me to be sent to a girl's home. Those nightmares always left me drenched in sweat and my heart heavy. And yet, they weren't even the worst ones.

The worst nightmares, the ones that left me momentarily paralyzed and out of breath, were when my brothers were in danger somehow and I couldn't help them. I couldn't save them. They would die before I could reach them or they would die in my arms. After my parents passed on, Darry did his best to fill the shoes of the man-of-the-house and me being the only girl, (even though I was only 14 when my parents died) I stepped in as the woman of the house. It was Darry's job to provide for and protect us, but I took it on myself to take care of them- make sure they were fed, in clean clothes, and looked after. Mom wasn't here to do it anymore, just me- which is why those dreams hit so hard. I had to keep them safe, for mom.

I stretched and was careful to not make any noise as I crept out of my room to the room next door that Pony and Soda shared. Ponyboy has nightmares as well but his are more… known. He's very vocal when he has them- screaming, crying, and trashing about and when he finally wakes up, he doesn't even remember what he dreamt. Scared Darry, Soda, and I something awful the first few times they happened, and I guess the still do but they come less often now that Soda has taken to sharing a bed with Pony. I cracked the bedroom door just enough for me to peek in- Soda, always the cuddler, had his left arm draped across Pony's chest: a sight I've seen countless times. Pony's face was lightly touched upon by the fading moonlight but it provided enough light to notice that he was relaxed, peaceful- no nightmares tonight. I smiled to myself. Even though I was only 13 months older than Pony, he was my baby. He was all of ours baby. Darry, Soda, and I would kill for each other but Ponyboy was special- maybe it was because he was the youngest but we would die before letting harm come near our Ponyboy.

In spite of myself, I lightly tip-toed towards the bed, careful not to rouse the sleeping boys. I came to the side where Pony and slept gently pushed his dark brown hair away from his face. He didn't even fidget. Contrary to what Pony thinks, he is quite handsome. Dark hair, grayish green eyes- although don't tell him that, he hates green eyes- a shy smile, and a pretty good build for a growing boy. Sure, he still had some filling out to do but he already had the makings of a very attractive young man. And so smart too! Smart, sensitive, thoughtful, cute -pretty soon, Soda would have some competition in the girls department.

I glanced at Soda, whose face was practically buried in Pony's shoulder, as he mumbled incoherently but stayed asleep. Soda was a different kind of handsome, beautiful even. Dark blue eyes, always full of energy, a reckless and mischievous grin, dark brown hair-lighter than Pony's but darker than mine or Darry's, perfect jawline, perfect cheek bones, lean and muscular- no wonder the girls swooned over him. Everyone likes Soda and Soda liked just about everyone. Always friendly, always up for a good time but cross him wrong, and those carefree eyes turn into lethal blazes of fire. Ponyboy idolized Sodapop, absolutely worshipped the ground he walked on. And Soda, even though Pony didn't realize it, was wrapped around Pony's finger. Those two were the epitome of brotherly love.

I carefully placed as kiss on Ponyboy's forehead and softly grazed my fingertips through Soda's hair before making my escape back into the hallway and heading to Darry's room. I've taken this walk many nights. I couldn't tell you why, I just needed to know my brothers were safe and sound. Darry's door was a bit trickier but I've become an expert at it- open it fast enough to avoid the creak but slow enough to avoid the scraping on the floor. The first couple times I snuck into his room, Darry caught me. When questioned about it, I just told him I couldn't sleep and I'd climb right in bed with him. Darry never did mind- just pulled the covers over me, kissed the top of my head and fell right back to sleep, usually with my head on his chest and his arms protectively wrapped around me. After our parents died, Darry hardened up a bit. He was more strict and serious but he also had a soft spot, you just had to find it and most people were too scared of him to look for it. Darry was big and muscular, which he got from playing football in high school and roofing houses now. He had blue-green eyes, just like me, but his had a toughened, icy look to them whereas mine were soft and inviting (at least that's what Pony has said- always the observer, that one), brown hair, and strong jawline and chin. He looked so much like my dad, it hurt sometimes. Soda and I looked more like our mom and Ponyboy took after them both.

I knew better than to sneak all the way into Darry's room- I hated accidentally waking him. He worked two jobs to support us and worked harder than anyone I had ever known. He needed his sleep. He was sprawled out on his stomach with no shirt, wrapped in his blankets, and lightly snoring. I smiled contently and carefully closed the door.

After a quick shower, I dressed in a pair of light purple shorts and white blouse before making my way to the kitchen. I looked at the clock- 6:02; it was way too early to start breakfast, but just in time for me to catch a sunrise. I considered waking Pony- he loves sunsets and sunrises and there was no school but thought better of it. I didn't want to ruin a good night's sleep for him, who knew when those nightmares of his would appear again. I walked quietly through the dining room to the living room, careful not to wake the sleeping boy on our couch. I didn't have to look closely to know who it was but grabbed a throw blanket off of the nearby recliner and threw it over the bruised, dark-haired, tanned-skin young boy before continuing to the front porch.

Our house sat on a corner lot so I had a pretty good view of the neighborhood from our porch. It was far from a nice neighborhood- rundown and sometimes broken down cars along the street or in the driveway of badly maintained houses, but its home. My brothers and I are what they call "greasers". To the outside world, we are poor, dumb, trouble-making hoods; the boys are foul-mouthed juvenile delinquents who smoke, drink, fight, and slick their hair with grease oil and the girls are trashy and loose, often passed from guy to guy, with an attitude and mouth that can't be rivaled.

Whatever.

Our gang is tough but not dirty or dangerous, save for maybe Dallas Winston. We stick together and don't cause too much trouble around the town. But it's hard when the rich kids, the Socs, do everything in their power to knock us down. I haven't run into too much trouble with Socs' but the boys, on the other hand, can hardly walk down the street without wondering if a Soc is going to drive up and try to jump them.

As for me, the only greaser girl of our gang, I'm a few months shy of turning sixteen and I've only kissed two boys, one of which I've been dating for over a year. I wear make-up, but I don't cake it on like most greaser girls do. Mama always said the trick to wearing make-up is to look like you're hardly wearing any. I like wearing dresses and skirts but I love to get dirty with a game of football or exploring the woods with Ponyboy. I try to be nice to everyone but I can have an attitude when rubbed the wrong way; I don't want to be seen as a doormat. Two-Bit Mathews says I'm the perfect mix between a greaser girl and a Soc girl- a girl with a backbone who can fight her own battles and likes to have a good time but is also classy, sweet and beautiful. I don't see what's so perfect about it. It just means I don't quite fit in with other greaser girls and I definitely don't fit with the Socs'.

I was so lost in thought that I didn't hear the screen door open and close behind me.

"Mornin' Billie." The boy in the jean jacket mumbled as he sat beside me on the steps.

"Jeez, Johnnycakes! You scared me!" I jumped, which in turn caused him to jump slightly.

Johnny Cade is possibly the kindest person I've ever known. He has jet black hair, tan skin, and dark brown puppy-dog eyes that are full of sorrow and hope at the same time. He's Pony's best friend and the gang's little brother, almost like a pet. The gang, especially Dally, is extremely protective of Johnny. He has it pretty rough at home, both of his parents were drunks and abusive. It wasn't uncommon to find him asleep on our couch in the mornings, just as he was this morning. He also easily spooked; he's always had a bit of fearfulness about him but when a group of Socs jumped a couple weeks ago, his uneasiness grew immensely. Loud noises, unfamiliar faces, quick movements- all were sure to startle him.

I remember that day Darry had carried him into our home and laid him on the couch busted, broken, bloodied, and bruised. None of us had ever seen anything like it. Johnny was sobbing uncontrollably, from both the pain and fear. Two-Bit and Steve, Soda's best buddy, looked like they were going to be sick. Soda, easily the most emotional of the gang, was silently crying. Darry had a face of determination, refusing to let his sorrow show. Poor Pony looked in shock. My hands shook as I cleaned and bandaged him up and filled my unofficial duty within the gang: nurse. It nearly took everything out of me to not break face in front of Johnny. I wanted to cry along with him, out of concern and worry, out of anger and frustration. Johnny never hurt anyone. Those Socs' jumped him just because they could. I had to be strong for him- my other unofficial role: be their rock if need be.

"Sorry." We both breathed. He smiled sheepishly and I let out a small chuckle.

" 'S okay." We said at the same time, once again. Johnny then smiled his rare, crooked smirk and shook his head slightly. I laughed and placed my hand on his shoulder.

"Did I wake you?"

"Nah," He shook his head. "I couldn't really get comfortable. Thanks for the blanket." He lovingly nudged me, then winced as his hand shot up to hold his side.

I grimaced. " Of course, you okay?"

"Yeah, it's just bruise." He glanced and saw me frown. "No big deal, Love. Nothin' I ain't ever been through before." Then, he searched his pockets for a cigarette.

Love is my middle name- Billie Love Curtis. My mother loved Billie Holiday- she said she sang the most beautiful songs. My dad always said that if I was getting too rough while my mother was still carrying me, he'd put on some Billie Holiday and I'd calm right down. And my rough stubbornness also sprouted his nickname for me, Billie-Goat; my dad was always one for original names. Sodapop got his name because even in the womb, he was always bubbling with energy, doing flips and constantly moving. And Ponyboy? He used to kick my mom pretty hard while he was in her belly and once she joked, "he's more of a pony than a boy." Dad loved it. My middle name came from my father of course. He said that his daughter was going to be the most beautiful little girl in the world and should have a name just as beautiful, andaccording to him, there is nothing more beautiful than love.

"Lemme take a look" I reached out to touch the hem of his shirt.

"Really, it's fine." Johnny insisted and looked away towards the soon to be rising sun, firmly keeping his hand in place.

I pursed my lips in defiance. "Maybe, maybe not. I'll be the judge of that."

Johnny sighed and slowly took off jacket, careful not to move much on his right side. He leaned back a bit and lifted his shirt. From an inch or so above his hip bone to just below his shoulder blade, a dark, purplish bruise had already formed.

I hissed, "Oh, Johnny." I reached out to touch it his ribs lightly. He held back a painful hiss himself once my cold fingers came into contact with his warm body. "That is definitely not fine. Your ribs are probably bruised too."

He shook his head, put his shirt back down, and spoke in his quiet tone that I knew so well. "No, it looks worse than it actual is." He locked eyes with me and actually smiled when he saw my skepticism. "I swear."

If I know anything about Johnny Cade, it was that he hates when people worry about him. He always feels he's a burden, which couldn't be further from the truth.

"Let me at least get you an ice pack and you can use my bed to get some more sleep." I announced and got up to walk inside. Johnny grabbed my hand.

"Let's just watch the sunrise first." He pointed towards the skyline with his chin. I wrestled with that idea versus taking care of him. "C'mon," He said and softly shrugged as he softly pulled my hand to sit back down. "It'll be nice to get some peace and quiet before Two-Bit comes over and starts his usual chaos."

I laughed, "Fine." Johnny let go of my hand as I plopped down next to him. "But then, you are layin' in my bed with an ice pack on that bruise, savvy?"He nodded timidly and lit his cigarette. "How's that cut?" I motioned toward his right cheek. He shrugged and turned his face towards me. I lightly cupped his chin and examined the last physical remains of his confrontation with the Socs- one of the guys of jumped him had rings and cut Johnny's face up pretty bad when he would punch him. "It's looking better. You'll probably end up with a scar though." I dropped my hand from his chin as he took another drag from his cigarette. That night is not one of Johnny's favorite topics to talk about. I knew he wished he could forget about it but it haunted him, made him scared of his own shadow. "You'll get a pretty tuff scar. Girls love scars. " I teased and I lightly hit his knee. Johnny's face grew a light shade of red and he smirked.

We sat in comfortable silence for a while. Johnny has never been much of a talker which is kinda funny when you think about it- Ponyboy is not much of a talker either but those two are as thick as thieves. They can communicate with each more through their eyes and facial expressions than two people who have talked non-stop for the same amount of time. It's fascinating really; I'm glad they have one another.

"Pony didn't want to wake up and see it?" Johnny knew that Pone and I sometimes watched the sunrise together.

"I didn't wake him. He hasn't had a nightmare in a while but I don't want to take any chances. The more sleep he gets, the better."

Johnny nodded. The gang knew about Pony's nightmares. They've been awakened countless times by his screams. Silence again as we watched the orange and pink tinted sky.

"He's a good kid." Johnny broke the silence matter-of-factly.

I smiled. "He sure is." Pony was not even two years younger than Johnny or I, but we still called him kid, we just couldn't help it. Never to his face though- Pony hated being called kid. Of course that didn't stop the rest of the gang.

"Oh, you're coming over for Dean's cake tonight, right?" Dean has been my boyfriend for over a year now and today is his sixteenth birthday. I've known him since grade school and he gets along really well with the gang. He fixes cars, plays poker, and goes drag racing with Soda and Steve, talks about baseball with Darry, hangs with Dally, sees movies and talks about books with Pony and Johnny, and wrestles and jokes with Two-Bit. He gets along with them so well without me around that Two-Bit jokes that it would be such an inconvience if we were to ever break up because then the guys would have to schedule time to separately hang with both Dean and myself.

Johnny snuffed his cigarette and let out a yawn. "Yeah, I'm coming."

"Great. I think all the boys will be here, 'sides Dal of course." Dally was in the cooler and wouldn't be getting out for another couple months. Johnny nodded solemnly. Johnny sure missed Dally- he looked up to him like an older brother, and Dally? Well, Dally didn't even like a lot of things, let alone love anything. But he sure loved Johnny. He's never said it, but we all know it. Johnny is his little brother, no other way to say it. He would do anything for Johnny. "Well, let's get you back to sleep." I stood and wiped the dirt off my shorts. "I'll get the ice pack, you go get comfortable." I walked inside and quietly shut the screen door. I glance over my shoulder to ensure Johnny was not far behind.

Johnny slowly stood from his sitting position on the stairs, threw out his cigarette and stretched. I walked to the kitchen and readied a pack of ice, an aspirin, and a glass of water. I didn't hear any footsteps so I figured he hadn't come back inside yet. I walked to the living room and sure enough, there he stood- staring at the newly sunlit sky for a moment or two longer before carefully bending down to pick up his worn jean jacket. Once back upright, he gazed at the sky one last time before turning on his heels and walking inside. I smiled goofily and held up the small bag of ice and glass of water. He smiled appreciatively back, but it didn't quite meet his defeated, brown eyes.

Sorry for any typos and grammatical errors. I kinda get excited when I write. :)

Please review!

Chapter 2 coming soon- the rest of the boys finally make their appearance!