Heartbeat

By Shattered Aura

In collaboration with FrankElza

Summary: "I-I'll do it, just don't hurt him...please..." "Soda," he whimpered, his cheek pressed against the counter with the barrel of the gun dangerously pressed on the side of his head.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders. I do however own the idea of the fanfic. (I think. I hope so.)

A/N: This fanfic will be a Two-Shot or a Three-Shot, depending on how popular it gets. Nothing more. R & R! Enjoy!

~.~.~.~.~.~

"Hey Soda!"

Sodapop smiled as he heard his baby brother's voice. His shift at the DX was almost over, which meant that Ponyboy had dropped his stuff home and had made his way to the gas station to hang out with his big brother. It also meant that they would get to spend some time together afterward.

"Hey Ponyboy!" he said, ruffling his baby brother's hair as said boy made his way to the counter and stood by his brother. Ponyboy laughed as he ducked to avoid Sodapop's hand on his greased hair, but he didn't manage to escape in time. He looked at his reflection on the glass, immediately spotting his now messed up hair. He grabbed the comb from his brother's pocket and combed back his hair before Sodapop could snatch it from him.

"Ya little weasel," Sodapop teased with a fake sneer, making Ponyboy laugh again.

Sodapop loved his laugh. For a while after Johnny's and Dallas' deaths, Ponyboy had barely even smiled. Now, six months later, on his last day of school before Spring Break, he was faring much better. He was still miraculously innocent and he enjoyed life as its fullest.

"Say, where's Steve?" Ponyboy said after he had stopped laughing, noticing that Steve hadn't walked in the store from the shop to check what the laughter was all about.

"He got a call to tow a truck from like three blocks over," Soda answered with a wave of his hand. "He should be back soon."

"He can take all the time he needs," Ponyboy retorted with laughter in his voice. Sodapop cracked up and playfully punched Ponyboy's shoulder.

After the whole Windrixville incident, Ponyboy and Steve had had a heart-to-heart and had put old rivalries aside. They had finally seen eye to eye, and now, they were buddies, and not just because of Soda, but because of everything, really. When Soda found out that his best friend and baby brother hated each other, he had cried, but the past was the past, and soon the trio was joking about it.

Sodapop happily sighed. "My shift's almost over, and then we'll go to the house and hang out tonight. My treat." Ponyboy shot him a bright smile, nodding. It was their night, planned for only the two of them only, while Steve and Two-Bit would bring Darry to a bar to hang out with him for a change.

Just then, the two brothers heard the familiar sound of a bell, followed by the sound of a closing door. They spotted a guy, who looked a little bit older and stronger than Darry, walk toward them with a broad smile. He grabbed a magazine from the stool after looking at it quickly and fished in his pocket for some change, handing it to Sodapop when he was at the counter.

Ponyboy tensed, noticing the bulge on the guy's left jean pocket, but it went unnoticed by both Sodapop and the guy, and Sodapop was completely oblivious. After all, it could be a switchblade, and the guy could easily pass as a greaser with his dark jeans and black hoodie. It was also common for greasers to carry blades with them.

"Is there anything else?" Sodapop asked in a cheery voice.

"Yes," the guy answered, and in a fraction of a second, he pulled out a gun from his left pocket and aimed it at Sodapop's forehead. "Your money," the guy growled, making both Ponyboy and Sodapop freeze. I shoulda run and called the fuzz, Ponyboy thought in panic. I shoulda known, Sodapop thought, gulping in fear.

"Ponyboy...call the cops," Soda whispered to Ponyboy. Ponyboy nodded and cautiously backed away, but with the heavy silence in the store, the guy easily heard Soda's words and Pony's backing footsteps.

"Hell no. You stay here." In one swift movement, he grabbed a fistful of Ponyboy's shirt and yanked him to his side, shifting the gun from Sodapop's forehead to Ponyboy's cheek. Sodapop's breath hitched.

"Oh, my God," Soda whispered to himself as the guy traveled the gun from Ponyboy's cheek to the side of his head, all the while turning him so he would grab the back of Ponyboy's shirt instead of the front.

"I said, give. Me. The. Money," the guy growled, poking Ponyboy's head with the gun. Ponyboy's breath started coming out faster, and he was wide eyed. "Just do it!" the guy screamed, and slammed Ponyboy on the counter, his forehead against the counter and his back bent. Ponyboy cried out at the pain on his temples, and slowly, the guy turned Ponyboy's head so it would be on the side. Tears started forming in Ponyboy's eyes.

"I-I'll do it, just don't hurt him...please..."

"Soda," he whimpered, his cheek pressed against the counter with the barrel of the gun dangerously pressed on the side of his head. He was in panic mode, his breath coming in short gasps and tears threatening to spill.

Sodapop acted quickly, emptying the register and putting the cash in a bag. By the time the cash-register was empty, he was also breathing rapidly and he avoided even glancing at Ponyboy, for fear of starting to bawl right then and there.

"Hurry up, ya worthless son-of-a-bitch! I ain't got all day!" the guy shouted at him, releasing Ponyboy's shirt to grab the bag in Sodapop's hand. Ponyboy tried to keep in his whimpers, not wanting any more attention on him than he already had, as the guy snatched the bag and hastily counted the money.

"Is that all you got?" the guy angrily said, dropping the bag on the ground and kicking it away, bills flying and cash spilling everywhere. "Is that all you fucking GOT?!" he shouted again, grabbing the back of Ponyboy's shirt and slamming him a second time on the counter, resulting in Ponyboy crying out and a couple of tears flowing from his eyes.

"T-That's all I got," Sodapop stuttered, shocked at the guy's harshness on Ponyboy and wanting nothing more than for the guy to just leave his baby brother out of this.

"Then what are you waiting for," the guy shouted, "find more!" He put a bit of pressure on the trigger, and, the gun being next to his ear, Ponyboy heard it. He half-gasped, half-sobbed; the anticipation was too much to bear.

Suddenly, bright lights illuminated the store. The guy thought that they were lights from fuzz cruisers, but they were what Sodapop hoped for the most; the headlights of the tow-truck. He tried not to show his excitement, but he had faith that his friend would help them.

Unfortunately for him, he was running out of time, as the guy got tired of holding Ponyboy against the counter. In one quick motion, the guy threw Ponyboy on the nearby wall. Ponyboy hit his back, yelping as he did so. He moaned as he tried to get up, and the guy grabbed a fistful of the front of his shirt again and hoisted him up, pointing the gun at his temple again. This time, Ponyboy openly cried.

"You don't move an inch," the guy hissed at Sodapop as he tried to creep from behind the counter and call the cops. Sodapop gulped and nodded, watching as the guy slowly made his way to the door, his grip still on Ponyboy's shirt.

"W-Wait, where are you taking him?" Sodapop stuttered, watching as the guy crept toward the door.

"Hey, Soda! I'm..."

Steve stopped dead in his tracks as he walked in the store via the shop, immediately spotting the guy and Ponyboy, and then spotting Sodapop. What a great fucking timing, Sodapop groaned in his head. He couldn't blame his friend, though; Steve didn't know and probably didn't see from outside.

"Don't move!" the guy shouted, releasing Ponyboy and shoving him in front of him, but pointing his gun behind his head and poking him with the barrel. Ponyboy gulped, some tears spilling and silently falling on the floor. He stared at Steve's shocked form and then at Soda's worried face without a word.

"On your knees!" the guy shouted at them. The trio complied. "Your hands in the air!" Again, the trio obeyed, but Ponyboy was slower since he was shaking badly and starting to hyperventilate. He was trying very hard to calm down and do as he was told, but with a gun pointed at his head, it was very hard. "Hurry up, you useless kid!"

"I-I'm trying to!" Ponyboy retorted without thinking, immediately regretting it.

"Why, you little shit..."

The guy cocked the gun and pulled the trigger.