When Fallen Angels Fly
Disclaimer: I do not own "The Outsiders" or any of the Curtis' Gang. :( The real owner of "The Outsiders" is the fabulous S.E. Hinton. I also do not make a profit from the stories posted here on this site.
Ponyboy ~Spring, 1967~
I tried to muffle my coughing into my sleeve during Social Studies class. On and on, Mr. Leach droned continuously about the American Revolution or something else useless and boring. I didn't even have to try and tune him out, my whole head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and I struggled to keep my head up.
Angela leaned over from her seat next to me and passed me a note. I grinned and unwrinkled it.
'U alrite?' It read in her neat, curled handwriting.
I caught my girlfriend's eye and nodded reassuringly, biting back another painful cough. My nose started to run again and I had to get up to grab a tissue during the teacher's lecture, much to my chagrin. Angela noticed my expression and almost fell over in her chair laughing so hard. Mr. Leach gave her a glare and she straightened up instantly.
I gave her a cold stare, but she knew that I was just kidding. The bell rang loudly, adding fuel to the flame for my poor pounding head, and I gathered my books up quickly, coughing painfully into my sweatshirt sleeve.
Two-bit was hovering over some greaser girl with a cool smile, trying to get up under her skirt. I had no patience then, so I just grabbed his arm and led him towards his car so we could head home already. He looked mock-hurt at first, but then he smirked.
"You getting' jealous there, Pone?" He asked, mocking me completely.
I hit him upside the head and shook my own, "Nah, Two-shit, I'm tired and ain't up to your discordant remarks, m'kay?"
Two-bit frowned, but nevertheless got into his side of the car and drove us towards the east side. I leaned my head against the window went to try and sleep, but his hand stopped me from doing so. He put the back of his palm up to my forehead and flipped it so he could feel both sides.
"I don't know Ponyboy," He replied, "you're feelin' kinda warm. You want me to call Sodapop when we get home?"
I shook my head, but that was a bad idea, because it felt like rubble crashing down onto my brain. I didn't want Steve to get pissed, and I didn't want us to lose money. But Sodapop and Darry would've been to the house faster than you could say timbuktu and I certainly didn't want my girlfriend, Angela, to complain to her brothers the whole night.
Walking into the house, I went straight to my room and flopped on my bed; not bothering to take my shoes or jeans off beforehand. The last thing I remember is reciting the adage I had once taught Johnny, before darkness swarmed my thoughts.
OoOoOoO
I woke myself up a few times sneezing or coughing, and my whole body felt like heavy led. I finally had enough and threw my covers off of myself and dragged my butt out of bed. I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Sodapop and Steve came bounding into the house with a ruckus.
"Ponyboy? You home?" Soda drawled.
"Shower!" I hollered back, but then realized that it was a terrible idea. Luckily though, the water in the shower drowned out my rough coughing so Soda didn't come and check on me. I started to get dizzy, so I quickly turned the water off and sat down on the side of the tub. When my vision finally steadied, I dried off and got dressed in a haze.
I threw my old, dirty clothes into the hamper and walked into the kitchen to start making dinner.
Surprisingly, Soda and Steve were actually collaborating with each other instead of wrangling their heads out. The usual jostle was completely extinct, and I think I knew the reason why.
'Dammit, Two-bit,' I thought and went to the pantry to get out the noodles and tomato sauce, but was stopped by my older brother. Sodapop looked troubled and to my surprise, Steve was too. Soda put his hand on my forehead and repeated the steps Two-bit had did to me earlier.
"You look like absolute shit, kiddo," He told me, looking even more worried after feeling my temperature.
"I'm fine, I promise," I replied and went to continue cooking, but his hand darted towards the spoon I was picking up.
"Nuh-uh, little buddy; don't tell a promise that you can't keep," I rolled my eyes at that one. Dad had stuck that saying into our heads by the time we were each three. I could still hear him.
Like a servile, I followed my brother's directions and went back to our bedroom, but I didn't make it even half way there. I guess Steve noticed this, because he called out, "Pony!" in a panicked voice and ran up just in time to catch me before I hit the ground.
My head was swirling dizzily. I could vaguely hear the two calling my name and other shouts around me. Soda yelled for Steve to call someone I didn't catch. My guess was either 911 or Darry: I would have a field day with either one though.
A/N: We hope that y'all enjoyed! Please review and thank you for reading.
Stay Gold,
-Chicago Fire Buddies and Pony'sgirlfriend