All On the Outside

-None of her classmates could save her. Maybe they can.-

An Outsiders/Thirteen Reasons Why crossover.

Told in the point of view of both Hannah Baker and Sodapop Curtis. (Point of View changes between each line break thing, starting with Hannah, going to Sodapop, and back to Hannah, so on and so forth.)

Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders or Thirteen Reasons Why.


There. I had taken them. A pill for Justin, Alex, Jessica, Courtney, Tyler, Clay, Jenny, Marcus, Bryce, Mr. Porter, Zack, and Ryan. Plus several more in case the thirteen wasn't enough. While the pills started working, I cleared my head of every thought, which was shockingly easy. As the light slipped away, I had no troubles. All I did was sigh before succumbing to the darkness. My eyes closed, then my lips followed suit, and I was gone.


"Ow!"

Steve clutched his head and fell to the ground.

We laughed at him.

"No, cut it out! It's making it worse!"

"What?" I laughed and asked my best friend.

"This headache! It's a broad's scream piercing a hole in my brain!"

Ponyboy looked nervous and confused.

"I hear it too," he said, "but it's not piercing a hole in my brain. It's more like she's outside."

We were all quiet. Quieter than we had been after Johnny died. There was a thud, and we all heard her too.


There were rocks that stabbed my back. I was used to the feeling, but opened my eyes anyway. The gravel road was filled with beat-up houses. I never pictured hell like this. I mean, I am in hell, right? I lost hope. Losing hope equals big sin equals going to hell. At least that's what I was taught.

I started walking down the road, which led to a park. It made me think of Justin Foley.

What? Justin Foley! He followed me to hell! He's supposed to escape me once I'm dead! I'm not supposed to remember him!

But what if I wasn't dead? That could be the only explanation. These problems are supposed to leave me. I am not supposed to remember him. I am not supposed to be alive. I checked my pulse to make sure I was dead.

I checked it again.

I was alive.

Screaming, I collapsed, found the sharpest rock, and started stabbing it into my heart.


"It's coming form the park," Darry said.

We all looked at each other, besides Steve, who was rolling on the floor in pain.

"Let's go!" I yelled and sprinted out of the door.

"Soda! Why are we chasing the voices in Steve's head?" Two-Bit yelled from the doorway.

"Because we're not supposed to hear them too!" I yelled while running down the street.

When I found her, Ponyboy had caught up with me. The girl was hitting her chest with something, screaming and muttering names under her breath.

"Hey!" I called, "Hey, stop that! You're gonna hurt yourself!"

She didn't stop. She didn't even acknowledge that she heard me.

I went up to her and put my hand on her shoulder.

"Knock it off," I said, "before you hurt yourself."

She wriggled away like a defiant child.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed.

I ripped my hand off of her shoulder.

"Sorry," I said, "But-"

"Go away!


He was trying to save me. Why? I'd never met him. He probably just heard of my reputation, and was just trying to get some.

He never said my name though.

My repetitive stabbing had caused a little bleeding by now. He noticed and grabbed the rock from my hands.

"Cut that out!" he said.

"Who do you think you are, Je-?"

I stopped when I recognized his eyes.

They were Clay Jensen's eyes.

I fell silent, but my gaze never left his eyes. He must've thought I was an idiot.

"Were you trying to kill yourself with a rock?" the boy with him asked.

Now it sounds really stupid. But as long as I ended up dead, it didn't really matter. However, I don't want an intervention, so I said nothing.

"Come on," the original guy said, picking me up.

"What are you doing," the other guy, obviously the younger brother, asked.

"Taking her home. Darry will know what to do."

I shouldn't let them carry me off. For all I know, they could be taking me off to a gang bang. But something about his Clay Jensen eyes made me trust him. And if not, they may have a tall window.


"Darry! I found her!" I called as I kicked the front door open.

I wandered around, looking for somewhere to put her. Two-Bit, who was idle on the couch, watched me. He was probably watching her, since she was pretty and blonde. I kicked his shin.

"What the f-!" he started.

"Move," I said, and he did.

I put her down and felt sorry for her. Darry's interrogation was about to begin.

He sat down in front of her. She kept staring at me.

"Could you tell me what your name is?" Darry asked.

Her eyes flicked over to Darry for a quick second, and then went back to me.

"Hannah," she muttered.

"Do you have a last name?"

"Baker."

"How old are you, Hannah?"

"Sixteen, not six, so you can quit the baby talk."

"Alright. What were you doing in the park?"

"Stabbing myself."

"Why? Were you trying to die?" Steve said rudely from across the room, still recuperating from his Hannah-caused headache.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I was. And please, no intercessions. I aim to finish what I started."

We were all shocked. We didn't expect that to be her answer.

Ponyboy went into hysterics.

"No! Darry, don't let her! Don't let her die, Darry, not again! No more deaths, please! Please!"

He was sobbing.

Darry walked over to me.

"I'm putting you on Hannah-Watch. You two stay in my room."

"Be safe!" Two-Bit, who had missed the entire conversation and was only listening to it now because Mickey Mouse was on a commercial break, added.

Darry smacked Two-Bit's head into the wall.


He looked at me.

"Come on, Hannah," he said, pointing to the room at the end of the hallway.

I reluctantly followed him, feeling the eyes of three strangers watching me.

The room was about the size of my room at home. It had a queen sized bed with a nightstand on the left side, and an armchair in the corner. The window was facing south. I eyed it suspiciously.

He must've noticed because he said, "It's a one story house."

I stood awkwardly in the doorway until he said, "You can sleep on the bed. I'll stay in the chair."

I plopped myself on the bed while he sat quietly on the armchair.

"My name's Sodapop, by the way."

I didn't say anything.

"Night, Hannah," he said before dozing off.

I didn't return the favor. I wasn't going to fall asleep that night.


AN: Hannah seems really Mary-Sue-ish, I know. But these are two great books, so I wanted to put them together.