Author's Note: I've barely ever touched on Johnny's character (which is totally a shortcoming), so I guess it's finally time. I kinda took the idea that Johnny kinda stays wherever he can because of his home life, and this is what came of it!

This takes place well before the events of the book, the rights to which I still do not own. I don't own anything, actually, not even Noye's Fludde – Benjamin Britten owns that. Womp-womp.

Happy reading :)

XXXXX

They didn't exactly live in the safest of neighborhoods.

After Darrel and Maggie Curtis died, Maria Mathews very quickly realized that the six boys that were her son's closest friends had almost nobody left. At least, as far as adults went. And the revelation came very quickly, too; almost as soon as the funeral was over. She shut the front door behind Keith – who was carrying his sleeping sister up the stairs to put her to bed – and locked it. She always locked the door, no exceptions. This was not the safest of neighborhoods, and she had a young child to think of. That child's brother, Maria sadly admitted to herself, could probably defend himself very well.

The Mathews family had stuck around the Curtis house long after the last stragglers had left, haven given their well-wishes and condolences and covered dishes. Steve helped Maria load the fridge. He knew what it was like to lose someone. He very nearly knew what it was like to lose both parents, too; after his mother had died, his father had never been the same.

"It's like his father has just shut down," Maggie had whispered to Maria a few years back, at another, different funeral for Jeanie Randle.

Jeanie Randle, Maria Mathews, and Maggie Curtis had been friends with each other the entire time their boys had been friends. This friendship seemed to go largely ignored by their sons, but what did they expect? They were young. Sarah Cade had never been receptive, either, and despite any attempts to reach out to her, it was hopeless. And the older the boys got, the clearer it became that her friendship wasn't anything to be desired.

"She just sits back, Mama," Keith had told his mother. "She just sits back and lets her husband whale on that kid."

"Whale…?"

Keith sometimes forgot English wasn't his mother's native tongue. "Beats 'im, Mama. Sometimes with a damn two-by-four."

This fact always stuck with her. She'd be making dinner, or at work, and she would remember how her son told her – in the gentlest, angriest of tones that he so rarely used – that Johnny Cade's parents did such horrendous things to him. Maria couldn't imagine it. Yes, her children had no father, but she was there, and she had convinced herself that she alone could be enough. She would have to be. She'd seen what had happened to children left to raise themselves. Dallas Winston, though a good friend of Keith's, was no more than a thug, and Steve was hurt by his father's detachedness, and now the Curtis boys were left without their parents, and sometimes it all just hit her how cruel this world could be, even to children.

Sadie was with her the day she told Darrel Junior he best lock his doors at night. Maria couldn't even see why he'd made the decision to do that in the first place. While they might not live in the best-off of neighborhoods, Maria and Sadie Mathews still managed to be a perfect Sears-Roebuck catalogue example of Sunday Best. Hats and all. Sadie held her mother's hand the entire visit, complaining about starched and scratchy collars.

"There could be burglars," Maria told Darrel Junior. "Anyone could just come in and take something from you."

Darry just crossed his arms, biceps bulging, and smiled politely at Mrs. Mathews. "It's nice that you're concerned, Mrs. Mathews, but I ain't sure we even got anything worth stealin'."

Maria raised a skeptical eyebrow and looked defiantly up at the young man. Darrel Senior's boy may have been his spitting image and just as well-built, but Maria was a mother, and not much scared her about a twenty-year-old boy playing at being a man. Besides, her concern came from that very same motherly place in her heart and her mind and her soul that cared deeply for the wellbeing of not only her son's oldest and best friend, but for that boy's brothers as well. "Darrel," she gently scolded, "you know what I mean."

Darry's smile fell from his face. "'Course I do, ma'am. But you gotta understand…Mrs. Mathews, some'a these guys ain't got nowhere to go. We're the last stop on the line for 'em."

That was well and truly the crux of the problem. In a neighborhood such as theirs, those seven boys were left with only a couple of safe havens. There was so little reliability in their lives. Maria could see his point, even if she didn't like it and wished it didn't have to be the case.

xXx

"'Ey, Johnny…'sup, kid?"

Johnny was kinda surprised that Two-Bit was even home, but that was about as far as that went. He wasn't all that surprised that he answered the door half asleep. Johnny always felt kinda guilty about stuff like this, but he didn't really know what else to do, and it was too cold to stay in the lot – he'd freeze to death, and that sounded…painful. Dallas was already crashing over at Pony's tonight, and he just really, really didn't want to be home right now, and if he were being honest, if his parents somehow managed to find him, Two-Bit wasn't afraid to throw punches. Not that Johnny was, but…they were his parents…

"Kid?"

Johnny startled a little, haven gotten a bit carried away with his thoughts. "Yeah, uh, can I – "

"Yeah," Two-Bit said, waving him in and saving Johnny the embarrassment. Two-Bit didn't get it, why asking to stay over was such a big deal. They all bummed around each other's places – well, the ones that were worth bumming around at, that is, which cut down the list significantly.

Johnny liked the Mathews' place. Not that hanging around the Curtis's was bad (and why was he explaining himself to himself?) because it definitely wasn't, but it was different now, sometimes, without their parents around. The house was in limbo. Two-Bit's family had long ago dealt with loss of a different kind, and even though it was kind of a mess, it also had this light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel quality. Sometimes. Sometimes it felt like any other house in the joint, with Mrs. Mathews always gone and Two-Bit always…well, Two-Bit. So, a hoodlum, sometimes. But mostly, there was such a good humor about the place that Johnny couldn't resist it, like a Siren call. Ponyboy had told him that Sirens were from Greek myth, that they were these creatures with beautiful voices that would lure sailors to their deaths. Johnny had a feeling the Mathews weren't going to do that.

"Couch cool?" Two-Bit asked.

"Yeah," Johnny nodded.

It always was. It always had to be.

Two-Bit started flicking on lights and tossed Johnny a sheet, then gestured wordlessly to the afghan hanging across the back of the couch. It might seem strange to others for Two-Bit to be so quiet, but to be fair, it was late, and he and Johnny had done this so many times it was old hat. They knew the routine. It was the same old song and dance, but Johnny was helpless to do anything else but be forced to sing along.

"Night, Johnnycakes."

The lights were off before Johnny could say 'night' back, and then he was staring up at a dark ceiling, not really wanting to sleep and not exactly all that sleepy, either. On nicer nights, he'd spend hours in the lot wordlessly staring up at the sky, up at the stars, up at the moon. They – whoever they was – were trying to put a man on the moon. Johnny couldn't fathom it. He hadn't even ever left Tulsa, but there were men out there going to outer space, maybe up there right now, going somewhere. They were going somewhere because they had a destination in sight, a destination that was in everyone's sight. Constantly. But he was stuck here not only on the ground, but here, not just in Oklahoma but in Tulsa. If he were smart enough, and had enough money, and could get over that pesky fear of tight spaces of his, he'd go to outer space. Hell, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He'd do it right now if someone offered, just to get the chance to see somewhere different. And outer space would be pretty damn different.

Tonight, though, he stared up at a dark ceiling and thought of very different, more grounded things. How homeless he felt, going from place to place like this, even though he had a permanent address. It made him angry, almost, to think of himself in that way, but what was he supposed to do? When he tried to stay, it all went sideways. What other choice did he have? His life was about survival, and he'd come to terms with that a long time ago.

He didn't really get much sleep that night – he rarely ever did – and he was awake when the sun started to rise, the sun streaming through the curtained windows and painting the walls in a golden hue. Nice. By the time the sun was up, Johnny had already folded up the sheet and put the afghan back over the back of the couch, and was leaning back into the cushions and letting himself wake up. It was really about to be another twenty-four hour day, and he needed to gather himself for a moment.

"Hiya."

Johnny started and turned his head in the direction of the greeting. There was a little girl standing in the entrance to the living room wearing a very light pink nightgown, and she was watching him pleasantly with her hands behind her back. She had curly strawberry-blonde hair and grey eyes, and Johnny was pretty sure she was about eight years old. Johnny knew this was Sadie, Two-Bit's kid sister. She was a lot, a lot younger than all of Two-Bit's friends, and really had nothing to do with any of them. If Johnny were being honest, being around her made him kinda nervous, like she was this innocent thing that needed to be preserved. That's certainly how Two-Bit had sold it to him – all of them – that Sadie was Untouchable and Two-Bit's most important charge. Johnny gave her a small wave.

"Hi," he said back.

"I think we're the first ones up," Sadie told him.

"I guess we are," Johnny shrugged.

There was a beat of awkward silence. Johnny didn't exactly mind kids, but he wasn't really sure if he was all that good with them. He didn't know how to talk to them other than how he talked to his buddies and the guys at school, and even though Sadie was Two-Bit's sister, she was really sort of a mystery to them. The guys didn't really know her because of how young she was and because she was, well, a girl. When it came to the opposite sex, all seven of them agreed on one thing: they weren't good for friendship.

(Johnny really needed to collect himself because eight-year-old girls were really nothing to be scared of, even if their big brother might kick your ass if you're even just accidentally mean to her.)

(But Johnny also knew in the back of his head that Two-Bit probably wouldn't actually kick his ass. It was really more a figure of speech.)

"I watch cartoons Saturday mornings," Sadie said, and that reminded Johnny that it was indeed Saturday. Huh. Sweet – no school! "Um…"

"Oh, uh, you're fine. Go ahead."

Sadie smiled at him and turned on the set, flipping through the channels until she'd found the one she wanted, then sat on the couch next to Johnny. She grinned up at him again, briefly, before turning back to the TV. Johnny and Sadie sat in silence together as they watched Atom Ant and then The Flintstones, and then Sadie got up and flipped over to ABC to watch that Beatles cartoon show. During one of the early commercial breaks, Sadie had made herself some cereal. Johnny was getting the feeling that this kid was pretty self-sufficient. Mrs. Mathews flitted in and out, clearly getting ready to go to work. Johnny was pretty sure he remembered Two-Bit saying that pretty much the only day she was assured to get off each week was Sunday. When she saw him, she smiled and gave him a little wave, asked him if he wanted any breakfast. He told her he'd just get some cereal.

Eventually, after Mrs. Mathews had left, Two-Bit wandered in sometime during The Beatles cartoon and sneered at the TV. "Aw, girly-girl, why you gotta watch this?"

"I like them. I think they're cute."

"Ya know they ain't really cartoons, don't'cha?"

Sadie rolled her eyes at her brother. "I know, Keith."

Johnny laughed a little when she said his name, and Two-Bit playfully scowled at him. "Sleep good?"

"Yeah," Johnny shrugged. Two-Bit gingerly sat down beside him, and Johnny had to wonder if he was maybe a bit hungover. "Thanks."

"No problemo," he sighed, leaning back. "Sadie, yer too young to be thinkin' they're cute."

"I meant the cartoon," she shot back. Sadie had a high-pitched kid voice, so hearing her go back and forth with Two-Bit was kinda funny.

Johnny sometimes wondered what it would be like, having siblings. He, Steve, and Dallas were all onlys – well, they all assumed Dallas was – and had no idea what it was like. Steve's mom had been too frail to have any more kids, anyway, and Johnny figured it'd break his heart to watch a little kid go through what his parents put him through, especially if that kid was his brother or sister.

"She likes when you stay over, ya know," Two-Bit told him quietly, enough so that Sadie, still fixated on her shows, couldn't hear them. "I mean, she knows what goes on at your place. She asks about you."

"Oh," Johnny breathed. "That's…it's…"

"It's nice," Two-Bit finished for him. "I tell ya, Johnny, there ain't a soul out there like her."

xXx

The next time Johnny stayed over was more or less the same. It was always more or less the same. It was always little changes; a new bruise here, a fresh cut there, eyes in various stages of black. Sometimes he'd walk in starving and Mrs. Mathews would stuff him, other times he'd be doing just fine in the hunger department, thanks very much. The difference the next time was that he was now aware of the fact that Sadie apparently asked about him and worried about him staying at his own house, which he of course still sometimes tried to do. He'd never stop trying.

This time around, he'd ended up over there because Ponyboy was having a pissing contest with Darry, with Sodapop caught in the middle, so he figured it probably wasn't the best time to bust in on them. Maria told him that Two-Bit was out getting something for her, so Johnny ate dinner with Sadie and then they watched Ed Sullivan. Johnny really didn't know how to be around little kids. They were fine and all, but Sadie was just so freaking different from his friends. She was a girl, she was a little kid, and Johnny could see what Two-Bit meant; she was all innocent and pure. It almost scared him; he didn't want that to change in her. He just figured he was some sort of corrupting force. His parents sure seemed to think so.

"Johnny, do you go to church?"

Johnny looked down at Sadie. She'd been talking quite a bit all night, but she'd been so captivated with Ed Sullivan that she'd basically stopped speaking. The truth was that he wasn't really much of a churchgoer, not a regular one. He and Pony sometimes went. They would try to clean up as nice as they could and then sit in the back, try to get something out of the sermon. Last time didn't go so well, though, and they'd all ended up embarrassed. Unless you're Two-Bit, in which case you are immune to embarrassment and are very, very lucky for being so.

"Nice goin', Two-Bitch," Pony had griped on the way back, and Two-Bit had just laughed.

"Hey – don't look at me! Sodapop and Steve couldn't shut up to save their lives. I just made the best of the situation."

Johnny landed on eventually saying, "Uh. Not really."

"I'm in a play at church," she went on, completely glossing over Johnny's admission, which he'd figured he'd catch little kid hell for. "It's called Noise Flute."

"Noye's Fludde." Two-Bit had reentered the picture, and both Johnny and Sadie looked up at him. "It's called Noye's Fludde, not Noise Flute," he corrected, his tone teasing her a bit. She stuck her tongue out at him, then turned back to Johnny.

"Well, anyways, I'm in it, and it's about Noah's Ark, so you should come see it."

It was such a simple request, and by the way she said it, real earnest-like…Johnny couldn't exactly say no, could he? And it wasn't as if he ever really had any solid plans. "When is it?" He asked.

"Saturday night at six," Sadie said, like she was reciting information that had been given to her, probably by a Sunday school teacher. She suddenly popped off the couch. "Please come! Please?"

"Yeah, Johnnycake, please?" Two-Bit wheedled. He'd bent down and rested his chin on Sadie's shoulder, and she slid her eyes towards him and squinted, but didn't say anything. She was clearly used to his antics. How could she not be? She lived with him.

"Uh. Sure, I'll come."

Sadie jumped up and threw her arms around Johnny for a moment, then ran off upstairs, leaving Johnny, Two-Bit, and Ed Sullivan behind.

xXx

Sadie hated having to get her clothes altered. Her mother could do it herself, so she would have Sadie stand in the middle of her room, or her mother's room, or the living room, or even sometimes the kitchen table, and have her wear the too-big article and stand absolutely still so she could pin and tuck and measure and occasionally prick.

"Mom!"

Maria, with pins in her mouth, looked up apologetically at her daughter. "Sorry," she mumbled through her teeth. Sadie just nodded.

Even though the altering process was annoying, it wasn't all for naught: Sadie was playing the dove – a very, very important role her Sunday school teacher had told her, and one she was taking very seriously – and her mother was working on altering her costume. The play had Noah, Noah's wife, and God (but just his voice) in it, and then all the children were the animals on the ark. Sadie had beat out Ruth-Ann Tyler for the role, but she hadn't allowed herself to become too cocky – at least, not to Ruth-Ann's face. When she'd told Keith, he'd high-fived her and told her it served Ruth-Ann right for all the times she'd told Sadie she still dressed like a little girl (to which Sadie often replied that they still were little girls, but then Ruth-Ann would say something that might make her cry. Unfortunately, Ruth-Ann had no older brothers that Keith could beat up), but Sadie hadn't said that part to her face. Love thy neighbor, she supposed.

Sadie's dove costume was, of course, white. It was a white dress and white tights and white Mary Janes, and she thought she looked absolutely divine in it. White was a divine color, wasn't it? And Mom had said she was going to curl her hair. The dress had sleeves with extra fabric so that when she spread her arms, it looked as if she had wings, like a dove should. Miss Thomas – her Sunday school teacher – had told her that they would do her costume makeup at church the night of the performance, which excited Sadie. She'd never worn makeup before! Not even costume makeup.

Yes, this was all shaping up to be an absolutely wonderful evening for a children's opera.

Johnny Cade had even said he would come, and that relaxed Sadie. She didn't exactly need him there for it to go well – she had her mother and Keith – but she was always so nervous for him. She'd heard what happens at his house, what happens to him. She could see it, too. Keith sometimes came home with bruises, black eyes, scrapes. He'd come home with stitches courtesy of Darry Curtis, who at this point had a near-expert hand when it came to sutures. Keith was probably asking for it; not Johnny, not when it came to his parents beating him. But Johnny also, in all his quietness and kindness, made her nervous. Not because he was mean to her, but because he carried with him a great sense of fear. But Sadie thought he was very brave. She could not even begin to understand how horrible it must be for him at home, but she thought he was courageous as he continued to live to try again another day.

"Something…is on your mind," Mama's voice cut into her thoughts. Sadie shrugged, and her mother tugged her shoulders back down and straightened her dress back out so she could continue working.

"I was thinking about Johnny."

"Cade?"

"Yes."

"What were you thinking about him?"

"He's coming to my play."

"He is?"

Sadie nodded. "Mama?"

"Yes."

"If Johnny's parents beat him, why does he stay? And aren't we s'posed to do something about it?"

Maria actually stopped her work and sat back on her heels. The question had well and truly slammed her, made something twist in her heart. She wasn't surprised that her daughter knew about such things, but she was wondering why she was thinking about them. She watched Sadie closely, all eight years of her, and pulled the pins from her mouth and sighed. There was a delicate way to explain all this, she knew it, but how?

"He stays because he hopes it will someday change," she began slowly, knowing she was treading on thin ice here. Her daughter was so young, just so young, just like all of them were. She had to remind herself that her son wasn't really that old, even if he got into older men's trouble. Maria wanted so desperately to shield her daughter from the troubles of Keith's friends, but it was impossible, really impossible. And she did not want to lie. "He hopes that one day, they will learn how to love him."

Sadie narrowed her eyebrows and asked softly, "They don't love him now?"

Maria swallowed down the growing lump in her throat. "I do not think they know how," she said, voice thick with her Italian accent and held-back tears. "Some people forget how to…and some people never learn."

xXx

"Sadie, what's your brother doin' here?"

Sadie turned around and saw Keith leaning on the wall opposite the room Sadie and all the other birds were in. She didn't see what the big deal was – a bunch of other parents and siblings were mingling out there. Ruth-Ann was just…being stupid, with her stupid stuck-up nose and stupid hands on her hips. "Waitin' on me, I guess," she shrugged, repeating to herself Love thy neighbor, love thy neighbor, love thy neighbor….Sadie grabbed her coat, figuring she'd just have Mama help her get all the glitter off her face once they got home. She took one last look at herself in the mirror, saw the spark of her success (and, well, the glitter), and then turned on her heel and marched right out of the dressing room to greet her brother, who beamed when he spotted her.

"Howdy, girly-girl. Nice show. Ready to go home?"

Sadie nodded. "Where's Mom?"

Keith grabbed her hand and started to lead her through the cramped hallway and out of the church. Sadie wrinkled her nose up at the smell of too much old lady perfume and…yes, talcum powder. "She was talkin' to some lady about somethin'-or-other, so I told her I'd fetch ya and meet her at the car."

Sadie rushed to catch up to her brother and looked up at him. "I was good?" She asked. Keith nodded.

"Best dove I've ever seen. Then again, I don't think I've ever seen a real one…so I don't have much to compare it to," he chuckled. Sadie squinted up at him. "What?"

"Stop joking."

"I'm not!"

"You are!"

"Not! I really think you were somethin'. You were glowin', Sadie Mathews."

His sister favored him with a small smile. "Thanks."

The air was brisk and cutting as they stepped outside and headed for the car, and Sadie had to squint against the wind. The only thing she didn't like about dresses was that they were far too uncomfortable for such windy weather. The car was only slightly warmer. Sadie always sat in the back, and Keith slid into the driver's seat, and the two Mathews siblings waited on their mother. The little girl studied her brother as he stared out the window, elbow propped up and held against his mouth, looking worried about something. He rarely looked worried about anything, so even Sadie could figure out that something big must be on his mind. There was something on her own mind, too.

"Johnny didn't come," she said sadly, and mostly to her lap.

"I know," Keith sighed.

"But I invited him – why didn't he come? Did he lie? Was he never going to come?"

"He was going to."

"Then why didn't he?"

Two-Bit Mathews had found himself stumbling into a rather delicate situation, though both he and his mother seemed to be under the impression that because of Sadie's age, she wasn't ready to hear the truth, not the complete truth, anyways. But as Two-Bit watched her and weighed the situation, he pretty quickly came to the realization that if she was asking the questions, then maybe she was already closer to knowing the truth than he realized, and he owed her a real explanation.

"Sadie," he sighed. "Kid. He woulda come."

"So why didn't he?"

Two-Bit thought over the events of the day, how it was kinda weird how he and his buddies all had this sort of spidey-sense when it came to each other, and when it came to nearby trouble. Today was just an absolutely perfect shitstorm, is what it was, and just thinking about it was enough to make him a bit sick to his stomach. Johnny was a tough guy, he could take a lickin' and keep on tickin' (and often had to because, well, he had to), but it's different when you've got a car full of guys ganging up on you, just you, without any backup. It's different. Two-Bit couldn't really explain how he knew something was wrong, but one second he's just hanging around, the next he's booking it to the vacant lot that lay halfway between his house and the Curtis', and there Johnny was, laid out for all of them to see, covered in his own blood and crying in Sodapop's arms. It was pathetic, is what it was. Not the whole crying thing, but the fact that they'd let their guard down, that the Socs were getting so goddamn bold.

"Was it his parents?"

And now he was back on Earth. The shock of her question, of the understanding in her voice… "Not this time." He just…he so didn't want to explain.

(But…he did.)

xXx

The first time he spent the night at the Mathews' after the play (after his…accident), he'd walked over from the Curtis's after having dinner there. Steve was gonna be there that night, and Dally at Buck's, and…well, Johnny just didn't feel like trying with his folks that night. He stood on their front porch, feeling the night air of the cool spring prick at every sliver of uncovered skin, and thought long and hard about whether or not he should knock. Was it too cold for him to stay out in the lot? Would he freeze to death? (Would anyone care?) Hell, why was he hesitating?

He knew why he was hesitating.

Two-Bit had told him not to feel bad about it, that once he'd explained it to Sadie she had understood. That didn't mean that Johnny still didn't feel bad about it; he'd made a promise to her, and Johnny liked to keep to his promises. Then on top of that, he also felt bad that Sadie even knew anything about all this, about his…situation, and he always felt strange when people were worried about him. He didn't like being the center of attention.

But he had nowhere else to go.

So he knocked.

Maybe it was just Johnny, but it seemed like the Mathews family was doggedly avoiding mentioning what had happened, except for a brief moment where Mrs. Mathews seemed to acknowledge it by rubbing his shoulder for a moment, and then moving on. He was just in time to eat a leftover grilled cheese sandwich in front of I Dream of Jeannie, which seemed to be the last program of the evening that Sadie was allowed to watch, if her whining during the final commercial break was anything to go by. On a Saturday night, Two-Bit would usually ask Johnny if he'd want to go out for a little bit, maybe grab a drink, but ever since the incident in the lot, it was like all of their social lives had been put on hold; that their guards were up. Johnny just wanted everything to go back to normal. He wanted to pretend that it never happened. (But that was going to be impossible, what with the fear it had instilled in him, the paranoia. And that scar, forever marked as the socs' punching bag.)

He and Two-Bit watched Get Smart, then lasted about twenty minutes into the suck movie of the week before heading upstairs to play some of Two-Bit's records and smoke. Johnny sat right by the window, inhaling deeply and then blowing out perfect smoke rings that dissipated into the night air, the smoke floating up towards the stars and the moon, and maybe some spacemen. Two-Bit was laying on the floor, reading a Playboy, actually reading it. Johnny thought it was kind of weird that a skin mag had essays and short stories in it, but whatever. It was better than the alternative.

"Whatcha thinkin' 'bout, Johnnycake?"

Johnny looked away from the window. Two-Bit wasn't even looking at him. Johnny thought it was funny how the gang knew that things were up with each other without even having to look. They just knew things about each other. He supposed that was pretty special and all, but as much as Johnny hated to look like a pussy, and even though there was still a little space in his heart waiting and hoping for his parents to give a damn about him, he was glad for the gang. They were everything he had.

"I feel bad 'bout missin' your sister's play."

"Don't. She gets it."

"I wish she didn't have to," Johnny whispered, thinking he was quiet enough to not be heard, but he was.

"You an' me both, but she does. She thinks you should stay here forever, ya know."

No, Johnny didn't know that. Johnny folded his arms on the windowsill and rested his head on them, staring back out the window. There was a stray cat making its way through the grass, out on the prowl. Johnny wondered if it was one of the strays he knew. "I can't," Johnny mumbled, as if it had been an actual offer, which he knew it wasn't, and couldn't be. And Two-Bit knew that, too. It was horrible, feeling so helpless all the time. Wanting to help, but helpless to do anything – that was the catch-22.

"It's a nice thought, though," Two-Bit mumbled, and Johnny felt strange because he wasn't used to Two-Bit being so silent, letting Bob Dylan fill the space. Two-Bit was almost a bigger Bob Dylan fan than an Elvis fan, which Johnny also didn't get.

"You ever wonder what it would be like to go to space?" Johnny asked.

"I'm too tall to go to space. You, however, are perfect for the job!" He laughed. "Size-wise, I mean."

Johnny hated being small.

"But still, ya ever wonder about it?"

"Not really. Moon's great and all, but what the fuck would I do in space?"

Get away, Johnny thought to himself, even though the gang was great and Mrs. Mathews rubbed his shoulder and Sadie Mathews asked him to come to her plays. I want to get the hell away from here.

XXXXX

AN: Again, I don't own anything you recognize. Thanks for reading!