Request by RiceCrispy98
I'm so sorry that this took a long time. I kept adding more to the story and it ended up being way longer than what I planned on it being. I wish I could have written more, but it is a one-shot. It's actually over twenty-five pages long, so… my will to edit this was low. I think I got everything, but I probably missed a lot of mistakes. I'm sorry. I could have done better…
This fic would have done really good if it had multiple chapters, but, oh well. I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope this is exactly what you wanted.
Summary: After an incident, Soda, Darry and the rest of the gang started to ignore Ponyboy, causing him to spiral out of control. Depressed and lonely, Ponyboy sought for comfort. One day, he meets someone who was willing to provide him with the attention he craved. However, the gang quickly finds out that there is something wrong with the man and Ponyboy.
Warning: Eating Disorders, Depression, Possible Triggers
o-o-o
"I told you, I didn't mean it!"
"But that doesn't change the fact that you did it!"
There were screams resonating throughout the Curtis house, so loud that the people who lived at the end of the street could hear them. The atmosphere was thick and tense. Darry and Ponyboy were only a foot apart from each other. Darry was glaring harshly at his kid brother while Ponyboy had an apologetic one. His expression was so pitiful and so full of regret, but Darry did not waver. His eyes were like icicles, so cold and sharp that it felt like they were piercing through Ponyboy's heart. He had never seen him so angry at him, which was saying a lot with how much Darry was always hollering at him.
"I'm sorry!"
"Sorry isn't going to reverse what you did. It does absolutely nothing. Johnny could have gotten seriously hurt or even killed! All because you didn't use your head. Why don't you ever use your head and just think for once?"
"It was an accident! I thought I could do it. I didn't know that that would happen. I swear!"
"Oh, you thought that you could do it? Do you also think that you could do everything on your own?"
"No—"
"Cause, I can show you how much you depend on us and what's it like without having any of us to clean up your messes."
"Dar—"
"You're so lucky that were there in the first place. You know—"
"Darry!" Ponyboy screamed a bit louder than what he meant too, cutting his brother off. But that only seemed to anger the male more.
Darry repositioned his stance, straightening up his back so that he towered over Ponyboy. "Did you just raise your voice at me?"
It was hopeless. They weren't listening to him. Ponyboy let out an exasperated breath. "Please, just let me explain! If you just let me speak, I—"
"You have nothing to explain. We've seen everything we had to."
Ponyboy looked at Soda, who was standing behind Darry, for help. Soda always seemed to calm Darry down. But one look at his brother and he knew that Soda wasn't going to come to his rescue.
Soda didn't look like himself at all. His eyes didn't hold that happy-go-lucky shine that it always had. For once, Ponyboy couldn't read him. There was only disappointment.
"Soda…" he called out, still hoping that his brother would come to his aid. When he said his name, Soda glared. Ponyboy's eyes widened. Soda never acted this coldly to him before. Heck, he had never seen Soda glare before at all. He didn't think it was in his blood. The worst part of that is that they were glaring at him. Ponyboy could feel his chest start to tighten and felt a numbness start to cover his entire body. He clenched his fists, pressing crescents into his palms.
"Soda isn't going to help you this time," Darry sneered, grabbing his shoulder and roughly turning him back towards him. "You know, if Mom and Dad were here, they would be so disappointed with how you turned out. They would be ashamed of you."
There was a pressure that formed on the bridge of Pony's nose and on his cheekbones. His eyes started to water, but he didn't let them fall. He wanted to so much, but he couldn't. He couldn't show weakness in front of them. Instead, he ducked his head to hide any sign of him falling apart. His lips trembled. "Don't say that…"
"You're selfish and disrespectful. You're a burden to us all. It's so hard to take care of you, can't you see?"
Ponyboy's heart was racing, going so fast that it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest and leave him in the dust. His brain was going just as fast. It was hard to even think about what he was going to say. No, it was impossible. All his mind was telling him to do was run.
"You're so annoying, always having to follow us around like a lost puppy," Steve spoke up. "I'm sick of you ruining my fun."
"Yeah, and I'm always stuck on babysitting duty," Two-Bit added.
Sweat layered Ponyboy's body. He felt hot like he was standing over boiling water, yet he felt cold at the same time. He had to run. He had to get out of there.
"How much do you have to destroy our lives before you're happy?"
Everything went completely cold at those words. Ponyboy snapped his head up to look at the speaker, Soda. Numbness completely consumed his heart. Did Soda really say that? Did he really believe that he was ruining their lives? Did they all believe that? Ponyboy tried to speak but it felt like he was being drowned.
"You're always getting into trouble and I always have to butt in to save you. I didn't sign up for that," Soda continued.
"S-Soda…" Ponyboy whimpered, voice shaking.
"You know what? I can't stand to even look at you right now. You're not the sweet brother I used to know. I don't recognize you at all."
"N-No..."
Run! He had to run!
"I am so disappointed in you. I am ashamed to have you as my brother," Darry snapped.
"Pl-Please, don't say that."
At that moment, the door slammed open. The door collided with the wall so hard that the doorknob probably left a hole behind. Dally stormed in the house looked pissed. He radiated blood lust. Ponyboy had seen Dally mad before, but never this much. Dally searched around the house before his eyes locked onto Ponyboy. If it was even possible, the rage amplified.
"You piece of shit," Dally screamed, stomping over to Ponyboy and slamming him against the wall. Ponyboy gasped as the breath was knocked out of him. Dally raised a fist and Ponyboy violently flinched in response. "Give me a reason to not sock you right here."
But Ponyboy couldn't say anything. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He looked up at Dally with hopelessness and fear. Even though he was relatively close to the other, it did not give him immunity to his wrath. Dally was a wild card. The only person that he wouldn't punch was Johnny. And, now that Johnny had been put in danger because of Ponyboy… He shook his head. It was all his fault. "I'm sorry."
"Your apologies don't mean jack shit to me!" Dally growled, about to swing his fist forward. Ponyboy flinched again, closing his eyes tightly, getting ready for an impact. But it didn't come.
"Dally, don't," Darry objected right before Dally could do anything.
Said male spun his head around, glaring at Dally. "Why? Why shouldn't I? He deserves it!"
"It's not worth it." But Ponyboy understood exactly what Darry meant. Darry meant to say that he wasn't worth it; that he wasn't worth the energy.
For a moment, Dally just stood there like he was challenging Darry. Eventually, he shoved Ponyboy into the wall again, causing the boy to gasp out in pain, before letting go. Ponyboy couldn't help himself from letting out a sigh of relief. He managed to get out of getting the beating of a lifetime… just barely. But Dally wasn't finished with his pursuit.
"Scram before I change my mind," he hissed. At first, Ponyboy was frozen in place. He looked into the eyes of each member (minus Johnny) of the gang with the little hope he had left, but they were all looking back at him with a disgusted expression.
Ponyboy's chest felt so tight and his eyes stung from his forming tears. His heartbeat only got faster and so did his breathing. It felt like he had run a marathon with how shallow his breaths were. And, even though he was breathing so much, he couldn't capture any air. Oh, God, he couldn't breathe. He was dying. He was dying! His vision swam, head becoming light from the lack of oxygen.
He had to get out. He had to run away! Run! Run! Escape!
But he couldn't just run. Running would be too dramatic. So, instead, Ponyboy bit his lip, holding his breath. He stiffly nodded, feeling like was going to drop dead at any moment. "I-I-I-I'm s-sorry…" He whimpered, voice trembling so much that the words were almost incomprehensible. He hung his head, training his eyes on his feet. Ponyboy didn't dare look up. He would break completely if he had to see those expressions again.
Ponyboy started to walk away towards his room, resisting the urge to just take off in a sprint. His footsteps felt heavy and it felt like he wasn't in control of his own body. He could feel the glares of the gang on his back as he wheeled around the corner. As soon as he disappeared from their sight, Ponyboy rushed to his room but stopped before his hands could touch the handle. He couldn't go in that room.
'I can't stand to even look at you,' Soda's voice echoed in his head.
He let out a shuttered breath. What was he going to do? He couldn't go back out to the living room where the gang was. He looked around hopelessly before he saw the door to his old bedroom. He almost forgot that it was there with how much time he had spent in Soda's room. With that, Ponyboy scurried to his room, slipping inside. The room was freezing, and a layer of dust was on every surface like no one had been in there for years. It felt so lonely and isolated, but that was exactly what Ponyboy needed at that moment. He needed to be alone.
He slid down the door, finally letting a sob escape him. He messed up. He messed up. He messed up!
His palms stung and when he turned them over to look at them, he saw that blood was blanketing over them. Small crescent cuts from his nails were lined up across his hands. But, Ponyboy couldn't find himself to care about it. Fat tears fell from his eyes, mixing into the blood. He wiped his palms against his jeans, ignoring the stinging pain he got from irritating the cuts. Once he got the majority of it off, Ponyboy curled himself up in a ball and rocked back and forth in an attempt to comfort himself.
They hate you. They never want to see you again.
Ponyboy should be thinking these things. He knew that this feud was only just a short time thing… at least, that's what he tried to tell himself. They'll probably get over it by tomorrow. Johnny was fine, albeit a bit raddled. They just needed time to cool down.
But he couldn't help but let self-degrading thoughts slip through.
You're a burden. They don't care about you. They wouldn't even notice if you disappeared.
Ponyboy let out a loud sob, unable to hold himself back anymore.
"Crying isn't going to change anything!" Darry screamed. "So, stop!"
But this only made Ponyboy cry even harder. Tears were cascading from his eyes and snot was falling from his nose. He probably looked absolutely disgusting. Ponyboy covered his mouth with his hands to muffle himself but his cries were still so loud.
"Goddammit, kid, shut up!" he heard Dally exclaim.
It wasn't his fault that he was crying. He couldn't help it.
"He's such a crybaby," Steve commented.
It was true. He always cried, now that he thought about it. Man, he was so pathetic.
With tears in his eyes, Ponyboy got up, grabbed one of the dusty pillows from the bed and slipped inside the closet, closing the door behind him. Darkness wrapped around him like a blanket, and, in some way, it sort of helped. It was comforting. He could no longer hear the gang badmouthing him and he could cry in peace. He dug his head in the pillow, feeling it quickly become moist from his tears.
It was all an accident. Why couldn't anybody believe that?
. . . . . .
[Flashback]
Both Johnny and Ponyboy were walking on the side of the street, heading home from the drive-in. The full moon was high above them, giving them enough light to see ahead, which they were grateful for since the streetlights were either out of flickering. They were both nearing Pony's place, not wanting the summer night to end quite yet. It was almost time to go back to school and going inside meant they were one day closer to going back to that hellhole.
Ponyboy was bouncing a small rubber ball. "Hey, Johnny, catch," he suddenly said, tossing the ball to his friend. Johnny, surprised at first, fumbled with the ball before grabbing it firmly in his hands. A small smile crept on his face and he tossed the ball back before distancing himself from Pony.
They both laughed as they played catch, both running down the street without totally paying attention to their surroundings. It was all going alright until Ponyboy accidentally threw the ball too hard. The ball flew in the air, way over Johnny's reach. They both watched it fly. He thought that the ball would be lost forever, but Johnny ran forward after the ball.
He didn't see the car speeding towards him until the car light shone upon him. Johnny froze, staring at the car that was quickly getting closer like a deer caught in headlights.
"Johnny!" Ponyboy screamed, wanting to run over and push him away but his feet felt like they were glued to the ground.
Out of nowhere, Dally popped out, tackling Johnny out of the way right before the car could make impact. The car honked as the two rolled away to safety.
"Are you okay?" he heard Soda scream. The rest of the gang came running towards the fuss, examining the scene and quickly coming to a conclusion on what went down. They all ran to Johnny who was getting up from the ground, looking dazed. Ponyboy stood in place with wide eyes, horrified of what just happened.
"Are you alright?" Two-Bit asked Johnny.
"I think so…" Johnny answered, getting pulled up onto his feet.
"We saw the whole thing," Darry said. "I'm so glad nobody got hurt."
"You're shaken up, let's go," Dally suggested, and Johnny nodded numbly, following Dally away.
"Johnny!" Ponyboy called out, but everyone ignored him for the most part. Everyone but Darry who grabbed him by the shoulder and whipped him around. His hands squeezed tightly, fingers pressing into his pressure points. Ponyboy whimpered, raising his shoulders in an attempt to knock his hand off of him, but the grip was like iron.
"What is wrong with you?" Darry demanded.
"Darry, I—"
"You come with me, right now. We're not going to discuss this here."
[Flashback End]
. . . . . .
Ponyboy caressed his shoulder where bruises were starting to form. He sniffled. Everything's going to blow over tomorrow. It's going to be fine. That's what Ponyboy repeated in his head until his eyelids became too heavy for him to stay away… although he wished that he resisted the urge to fall asleep.
o-o-o
It was dark, so dark. The abyss of darkness stretched out as far as the eye could see. Ponyboy was lost, not sure where he was exactly going. All he knew was that he had to keep moving. After walking in the darkness for what seemed like hours, he starting to really believe that nothing would happen. That's when he saw a figure above him, standing with his back facing Ponyboy.
"Hello?" Ponyboy asked, warily approaching the figure. The person did not respond. Frowning, Ponyboy got closer. With every step he took, the figure became clearer and more recognizable. The person was small, although taller than him. His hair was jet-black and densely greased. He had a darker complexion to his skin than Pon and had a few bruises peeking out from behind his jean jacket. "Johnny?"
It had to be Johnny. There was no way that it couldn't be. But Johnny didn't answer, no matter how many times Ponyboy called out to him.
When Ponyboy was right behind Johnny, he reached out, putting his hand on Johnny's shoulder. He gulped, feeling his heart beat faster. For some reason, he was nervous, which was a ridiculous thought. Why would he be nervous about talking to Johnny? But, when he turned Johnny around, he was not prepared for what he was about to see.
Johnny spun around without really needing much help. His eyes stared through Ponyboy, completely glazed over with the color white. Deep gashes were like fissures on his face, not one inch was free of blood. His face didn't even look like his friend.
When Johnny opened his mouth, blood pooled out like a waterfall. "You did this," Johnny hissed out, voice sounding muffled by how much blood was coming out. "You killed me!"
"No!" Ponyboy cried out. "No, I didn't do this!"
"You killed me! I had so much more to live for! I hate you!"
"Johnny!"
"I shouldn't have been the one who died. You are! You should have died!"
"Don't say that. Johnny, please…"
"I hate you, killer!"
The walls around them started to echo Johnny and Ponyboy spun around with wide eyes. His hands covered his ears to try to block them, but they were like nails on a chalkboard. No matter how hard he pressed his palms against them, they were still so loud. "Shut up!" he screamed, but they only got louder.
Johnny! What was Johnny doing right now!
Ponyboy spun around to face Johnny when his friend's hands covered his mouth and nose, cutting off oxygen. "Shh…" Johnny whispered. "Don't scream."
o-o-o
Ponyboy bolted awake, gasping for air, but couldn't easily access it. The humidity of the room made his nose stuffy and his breathing was too erratic to catch any oxygen. Ponyboy's body trembled as his watery eyes quickly scanned the room for Soda, but he wasn't there. In fact, Ponyboy didn't know where he was or what time it was. The room he was in was dark like in his dream, but he could feel the walls surrounding him on all sides. He felt like a caged animal unable to move.
Soda? Where was Soda? He needed Soda.
He patted down the walls, trying to search for a way to get out. Finally, he found the opening and opened up the room. The light from the streetlight flooded in, giving him a sense of where he was. He was in his old bedroom, but what was he doing there? He didn't remember entering his room, let alone his closet.
But that wasn't what was on his mind entirely.
Soda. Get Soda.
Ponyboy escaped his room going straight to Soda's. His brother was sprawled across his bed like a starfish, blankets twisted like a vine around his limbs. Heavy snores escaped his mouth, but what struck Ponyboy the most was how peaceful he looked. He was so peaceful that it almost calmed him down. Almost.
"Soda?" Ponyboy called out, approaching the bed. He shook Soda's shoulder. "Soda, wake up."
Soda groaned, rolling over. His eyes slowly opened, looking drowsily at Ponyboy. It only took a moment for Soda to snap fully awake. He sat up, eyes turning into a glare, not fazed by the tears in his little brother's eyes.
"What do you want?" he hissed causing Ponyboy to reel back a bit from surprise. Soda never talked to him like that. He was always cheerful and kind when it came to him. So, why was he like that? That's when everything from last night came back to him. "Well?"
Ponyboy flinched, taking a step back. He wrapped his arms around himself to comfort himself and feel more protected. "I… um… I… I had a nightmare and I was wondering—"
"No."
"Huh?" Ponyboy's eyes widened in shock. He knew that Soda was mad at him, but he was expecting him to at least be considerate.
"No! I won't let you sleep in here. You don't deserve it."
"But, Soda…" Ponyboy whimpered, voice cracking. 'Please, don't push me away. I don't want to be alone right now.'
"Go! I don't want to see you right now. I can't believe you woke me up for nothing." He shook his head. "Man, now I have a headache. Your voice is like nails on a chalkboard."
You're annoying. You bother everyone and only cause trouble.
Ponyboy took another step back. There was a pang in his chest. He could feel that familiar pressure on his nose telling him that he was going to breakdown soon. His voice went up a pitch, cracking again. "Sorry. I'm sorry." He took another step backward. "I'm going to go. I'm sorry."
He rushed out of the room without looking back, running back to his room.
He doesn't care about you. Nobody cares about you.
Ponyboy slid down the door again, breathing heavily. None of what he was thinking had to be true… right? No, of course not. Anybody would be annoyed if someone woke them up. Everything will be back to normal tomorrow. Daylight was in a few hours. He could wait until then.
o-o-o
The next morning, Ponyboy's head turned to the sound of his brother's waking up. Plates and pans clattered in the kitchen as the stove clicked on. Pretty soon, the smell of food wafted in his room and Ponyboy's stomach rumbled, reminding him that he skipped dinner last night.
He needed to go out there and talk things out with them. He had been reviewing what he would say to them all night long while he was awake.
Standing up, Ponyboy stretched out his limbs and headed outside, but his confidence was short-lived. With every step he took, more butterflies formed in his stomach. His knees and fingers were shaking, and his brain was telling him to run back in his room. It felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack but not quite making it. His body felt like it was on fire like he was sitting out in the sun, but his sweat felt like ice cubes were placed everywhere on his body. Everything that he had prepared to say to his brothers was taken over by his flight instincts.
But he couldn't go back.
Ponyboy entered the kitchen when both of his brothers sat down at the table to eat the eggs that were just prepared. They looked absolutely normal, no anger in their eyes. It was like how they usually acted. Ponyboy felt hope surge in his chest and felt the relief of his anxiety temporarily wash away.
He looked for his plate of food but found nothing. There were no eggs on the frying pan or on an extra set on the table. They didn't make him breakfast. At first, Ponyboy was disappointed. They usually made him food if he left his room last. It was their system. But he tried not to let that get him down. Maybe they just wanted him to sleep in more.
"Hey, can I talk to you two?" Ponyboy asked. But they didn't answer. They didn't even look at him or anything. That was weird. "Hello?"
Again, nothing. That's when he figured it out. "Are you two… ignoring me?" His voice felt weaker, no longer holding the same gusto that it had in his previous sentences. "Don't ignore me."
But of course, they didn't answer him.
"Answer me. Soda… Darry… Don't shut me out…"
"Hey, Soda, do you think that the eggs need salt?" Darry asked.
"I like them," Soda replied with a mouthful of eggs, some of it sputtering out as he spoke.
Ponyboy took a step back, shaking his head. The feeling of downing was coming back. They really were giving him the silent treatment. He really messed up.
They hate you. They don't want you in their lives.
His breath hitched as he felt tears form in his eyes again. It was getting harder to breathe. The walls were closing in on him; making him feel what claustrophobia was like. He had to get out of there. He couldn't be in the house anymore.
Running out of the house, Ponyboy didn't expect Steve to be on the other side of the front door until he was shoved back, causing the boy to fall on his butt. Ponyboy looked up fearfully at Steve who was glaring at him. He shrunk back, fingernails digging into the splintering porch. The glare shouldn't have affected him as much. Steve always gives him to stink eye. But it did and he didn't know why.
They all hate him. Everyone hates him. None of them wanted him around.
Ponyboy swiftly got up and pushed passed Steve, feeling like he was going to throw up. What was he going to do? Everything was his fault. He tried, again and again, to make it up to them, but nothing was working. But he couldn't just stop trying. But what was he going to do?
An idea struck him.
Johnny! He had to see Johnny! He would sort this all out.
He took a few steps forward before he stopped again. His eyes glazed over. Ponyboy couldn't see him. He was the one who hurt Johnny in the first place. If anyone were to hate him the most, it would be Johnny. Everything was his fault. He was alone. Nobody loved him anymore. He had no more friends. He was alone in the world. How could the universe be so cruel to him?
It was scary to think about how fast everything changed. Just yesterday morning, everything was great. Their relationships couldn't get any better. They were happy. But then he messed up and did something he didn't mean to do, and everyone turned their backs on him just like that.
Did they even like him to begin with? Or did they only tolerate him? Pity him because he was younger, Soda's and Darry's kid brother, and, for the most part, a loner? It made sense. Steve never liked him to begin with. He always thought he was a tagalong and he always told him how annoying he was. Two-Bit probably thought the same thing. He always had to babysit him and always had to get him out of trouble. Dally definitely only tolerated him. He only really cared about Johnny, and, wherever Johnny went, he was there too. Darry's relationship with him was always on thin ice. He was given the responsibility to take care of him. He had to work two jobs and spend all that money on him. Ponyboy also ruined his chances of getting into college. And, on top of that, they always argued with each other. Soda was probably fed up with him being a baby and always waking him up because of his nightmares. He had to break up arguments and just deal with Ponyboy. And, Johnny… Ponyboy was always dragging him alone wherever he went. Did he even want to be with him to begin with?
Christ, why hadn't he seen it before? How could he be so oblivious?
They never liked him. They finally couldn't take him anymore and just snapped.
He just wished that he understood that from the start… It would have been a lot less painful.
After taking a short walk, Ponyboy returned home. Most of the gang were there, laughing in the kitchen. No one acknowledged him as he walked by. They were lightly pushing each other as they cheered Soda or Steve on in their arm wrestle. Huge grins were on their faces and Ponyboy realized that he hardly ever seen them have this much fun together… and it was without him.
They had so much more fun without him. They never needed him in the first place. He was the outlier. The one that could be replaced. He was no one special.
Ponyboy held back his tears. He was doing a lot of that recently—crying. He was such a baby. No wonder why he was annoying.
Ponyboy headed to his room, unable to watch the gang any longer. It was still so cold inside… or maybe that was just him. He sat in his bed, digging his nails into his arms as he hugged himself. He wanted to hug someone and be told that what he was thinking was plain stupid and wrong, but he knew that it wouldn't happen. No one would hug him, and no one ever will.
He should just disappear. Nobody would miss him. No one will even notice him gone. It would be better that way. Everyone would be a lot happier. Ponyboy loved it when they were happy and all he wanted was for them feel this way. At least could do that for them. If him disappearing from their lives would make their lives better, he would do that. But it hurt. It hurt so goddamn much. But he had to deal with it. Ponyboy would be content if he could make them happier even if it meant giving up his own.
Ponyboy pressed his nails deeper into his skin. It helped distract him from how much his heart was hurting. It wasn't enough though.
For a brief moment, the thought of cutting flashed in his head. He heard stories of people doing this around his school. Before, Ponyboy would never even consider doing so, but now he was having second thoughts. Don't get him wrong, he would never cut. He didn't have the guts to go through with it… at least for now. For now, piercing his skin with his nails was all he could do.
So, even though he was dead on the inside, Ponyboy tried to smile. Everything's always better with a smile. His lips wavered, the light not reaching his eyes. It didn't even look like a smile at all. It was useless. The smile dropped from his face. He had to learn how to smile better.
Ponyboy's stomach rumbled. Another day had passed without him eating anything… Man, was he hungry. He wanted to go out to eat some food, but that would mean going out to see the gang and Ponyboy didn't know if he could stand looking at them at the moment. He would definitely crash. And the gang didn't want to see him anyways. So, he stayed put, grabbing a book that he took from his room. He was really excited about starting it before, but, flipping through it, he realized how much reading didn't interest him at that moment.
Putting the book down, Ponyboy lied on his bed, stomach twisting with how hungry he was. He put the corner of his pillow in his mouth, chewing at it as if it was food. He hoped that it would be good enough to stop his cravings, but the pain was still imminent. He tried to fall back asleep, but his stomach hurt so much that he couldn't. All he could do is stare at his wall, listening to his stomach grumble.
o-o-o
Ponyboy woke up screaming. His body shot up, eyes skittering across the dark, empty room. Cool sweat ran down his forehead and his breathing was shallow.
Soda, where was Soda? But the bed was empty beside him. He was alone. He kept forgetting that. It's been days since the incident and every time he fell asleep, he suffered from nightmares, each more terrifying than the last. No one came in to help him. They were all still ignoring him.
Ever since he practically isolated himself in his room, his skin became pale, no longer slightly tanned from the luminescent sun. He also lost quite a bit of weight. All of his muscle mass died down and he lost practically all his fat content in his body. His ribs were so prominent that someone could probably play the xylophone on them. It was sickening. It didn't look healthy at all. Whenever Ponyboy changed, he tried his best to not look at his skeletal body.
He didn't want to look like that, but he didn't have another choice. The only time that he could eat was when the gang was out and no one was in the house. He didn't want to bother them with his appearance. And it wasn't like he could eat much anyways. Food was expensive and he didn't want them to pay much for him.
But, not eating came with a lot of risks, which Ponyboy quickly came to realize. His body was too weak to do much. His fingers shook whenever he lifted them and he constantly collapsed, but no one would help him if he happened to be in a room with them. They didn't even give him a second glance. Ponyboy mostly stayed on his bed, always wondering if was going to wake up again if he fell asleep.
It didn't matter anyway. Ponyboy hardly slept as well. He couldn't. Not with how much pain he was in and definitely not with his nightmares that came every single time he closed his eyes.
Everything made Ponyboy sick.
This wasn't living at all. He was alive, yes… but he was living without a purpose. He was practically a doll thrown aside, slowly rotting away.
Being awake all the time was boring though. So, he tried to do something to pass the time faster. At one point, he brought over books, notebooks, and sketchbooks to the room, but he was never in the mood in the end. He wasn't really interested in doing those activities anymore.
All he could do was listen to the gang laugh and have with each other without him. He hated it.
That day, however, he heard a voice that he hadn't heard in a while.
"Hey," someone greeted. It was Johnny. After days, Johnny finally had enough courage to come back to his house! It was tempting for Ponyboy to run out and hug his friend, but he stayed frozen in place, just listening. Johnny probably didn't want to see him anyways. He was only there for the gang; not him.
"Hey," the gang chirped back.
"Where's Pony?"
Ponyboy's ears perked up at the mention of his name. He hadn't heard someone say his name in so long. He shivered. It was weird and at the same time, Ponyboy yearned for it. He didn't know how much he missed his name until that moment.
"I don't know. He's probably bothering someone else. Poor suckers," Steve answered.
"Don't say that…"
"Why do you care so much? He almost killed you."
"It was my fault, not his…"
Was Johnny defending him? He wasn't angry at him? Did he still consider him as a friend? What was going on? Hope started to fill Ponyboy again, but he quickly toned it down. He couldn't let his hopes go up. He probably wasn't actually defending him.
"No, it was his fault for being irresponsible," Darry sneered. "He doesn't use his head and always gets himself in trouble. I'm sick of having to always clean up after him."
"Darry, you don't mean that."
"I never saw him leave the house. He's probably being lazy in his room when he could be doing something," Soda brought up.
"His room? What's he doing in his room?"
"Growing up," Two-Bit answered briefly.
Ponyboy could hear footsteps coming towards his door and Ponyboy became panicked. Should he hide? No, he should stay put. No, he should hide! Crap, crap, crap. Before he could decide on what to do, the door slowly opened and Johnny poked his head inside, eyes instantly catching onto the thin form on the bed.
"Hey, Pony," Johnny greeted, stepping inside. He frowned upon seeing his friend. Ponyboy was way thinner than when he last saw him. His muscle mass went down too, which was strange because Ponyboy was huge on working out like Darry was. He was paler and had dark bags hanging under his eyes which didn't hold the same light that it used too. Instead, they were more like a corpse, blank and glazed over. Ponyboy looked so different than when Johnny last seen him, almost like an entirely different person. What happened to him while Dally kept him away from the house?
Johnny approached the boy, sitting on the edge of the bed. Ponyboy sat up, scooting a bit away and curling up in a very defensive position. "Hey," Ponyboy croaked, voice a bit scruffy like he had a cold… or if he hadn't used it in a while. They fell into an uncomfortable silence as they both tried to figure out what to say. They never had this problem before, which was weird. They always talked to each other without any problem, and, if they didn't, it was always a comfortable silence where they were both just enjoying each other's company.
"How are you?" Johnny finally says.
"I'm hanging in there. How…" He swallowed. "How are you doing?"
"I'm good."
Again, silence.
Ponyboy eventually spoke up after a few minutes of just sitting there. "Hey, Johnny, can I ask you a question?"
"Yeah."
Why are you being so nice to me? But Ponyboy didn't ask that. Instead he just stiffly shook his head. "You know what? Nevermind. It was a stupid question. I just figured it out."
"Oh, okay…"
He hates you, just like everyone else. He just pities you. Look at that look he's giving you. He doesn't want to be here.
But he defended me…
Find out yourself if you don't believe it. If he does actually care about you, he won't abandon you. Friends stick by your side no matter what.
"Actually… I'm really tired. Can you leave?" Ponyboy requested. Don't leave. Don't leave. Don't leave!
"Yeah, you look really tired," Johnny commented, standing back up with a deeper frown. Was that what was up with Ponyboy? He was just tired? "Have a nice sleep."
Johnny exited the room, leaving Pony to his lonesome again.
He left…
He really doesn't care…
o-o-o
"Hey, can I speak to you all?" Johnny asked when he got back to where the gang was. "Somewhere not in the house?"
"Sure, but, what's it about?" Soda pressed.
"Something really important. Can we just go before I explain to you what it's about?"
They all nodded, gathering their things before leaving the house. They all loaded up in Darry's truck, some of them hopping into the bed before they drove to the nearest Dairy Queen. The ride there, although short, felt like it took a century. During the ride, Johnny tried to plan out exactly what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. Something weird was going on, and he had to get to the bottom of it.
When they all ordered food, Two-Bit said, "So, what did you want to talk about?"
Johnny poked at his burger, not really in the mood to eat. "I wanted to talk about Ponyboy."
"What about that brat?" Steve groaned, rolling his eyes. It always had to be about Ponyboy.
"I think there's something wrong with him."
"Like what?" Soda asked.
"Well… when I went in there to talk to him… he was thin—"
"He's always been thin," Darry brought up.
"Yeah, but he looked like a skeleton. Has he been eating anything?"
"I don't know. He takes care of himself now."
Johnny was confused. His eyebrows knitted together. "What do you mean?"
"He wanted to make his own decisions and act his own way, so I'm allowing him to take care of himself. Make his own food. He seems like he's doing fine."
Johnny was now staring at Darry incredulously. "Have you seen him? When was the last time you actually saw Ponyboy?" The gang fell silent, looking anywhere but at Johnny. That was all Johnny needed to see to know his answer. He gasped. "You haven't seen him. What exactly happened after I nearly got hit by a car?"
"Nothing happened besides a light scolding," Soda replied.
"No, Ponyboy wouldn't act that way just from a 'light scolding'. I know him. What actually happened?"
"We yelled at him," Two-Bit answered when no one spoke up. "Then, we decided to give him the silent treatment for a bit so that he could really learn his lesson."
"Are you still giving him the silent treatment?" They all nodded, leaving Johnny to gape. "Many days passed since then."
"Well, he nearly killed you! He deserves it," Dally growled, crumping up the wrapper to his burger.
"But it wasn't his fault. It was mine for chasing after the ball. I knew that it was going to bounce away. I didn't want to lose it and I ran across the street without looking. I should be the one to blame, not him."
"You did nothing. It was all him. He could handle a bit of time without us."
"No!" Johnny shot up, startling the gang. Johnny hardly ever rose his voice. "You haven't seen him. He doesn't look like himself. He hasn't been eating and I don't think he's been sleeping either with the bags under his eyes. He didn't look alive at all. He scooted away from me when I approached him like he was scared that I would do something to him. What is wrong with you? What's wrong with all of you? Ponyboy looks like he's dying, and you aren't even batting an eye at it."
At first, the gang just stared at Johnny in shock. They never heard him go off in a tangent before. But, after they got over the outburst, they realized how wrong their actions actually were. Christ, what had they done? Why hadn't they listened to Ponyboy or even noticed anything off about him? When was the last time they actually looked at him? They didn't even notice him slowly start to disappear.
"Darry, I want to go back home," Soda stated.
"Me too," Darry agreed.
Before any of them knew it, they were jumping back in the truck and speeding back home.
"Ponyboy?" Soda called out as soon as he opened the front door to his house. There was no answer. The gang all exchanged looks before they started to begin scavenging for the boy. They hardly got a few steps in the search when Ponyboy stepped out in the living room. When he saw the gang looking at him, his eyes widened in shock like he was surprised to see them. But the surprise only lasted a second before his eyes shot downwards, head ducking. He hugged himself before turning around to head back to his room.
"Pony, wait," Darry called out. Ponyboy froze and he turned around looking bewildered. When Ponyboy turned to face them, the gang realized how terrible he actually looked. He looked so much smaller than what they remembered. Ponyboy used to hold himself high, but now… he was like a scared animal with how withdrawn he was, looking like he away to bolt away at any moment. Just looking at him made the gang all queasy. Did they really do this to him? How could they let this happen?
What were they even supposed to say to him? Sorry for abandoning him?
Little did they know, Ponyboy was also running through thoughts. What was happening? They were talking to him again. He thought they would never speak to him again. This had to be a trick. They hated him. They made it perfectly clear that they never wanted to see him again.
Soda was the first to do something. He reached up his hands to touch him, but Ponyboy flinched away.
He flinched. He actually flinched.
Soda's eyes widened as he retracted his hand. Ponyboy was scared of them. They really messed up, hadn't they? Why didn't they notice how much he was suffering before? They were terrible. They were the ones who blamed Ponyboy for not using his head and messing everything up, but they didn't see that they were the ones to blame instead.
"Sorry…" Ponyboy mumbled, digging his nails into his arms again. "Sorry… I'm in your way again. I didn't mean to. I'll leave. Sorry…"
Ponyboy made a quick dash to the door before any of them knew what was happening.
"Ponyboy, wait!" Darry called out, but he was already outside. They all filed out of the house to try to catch him, but Ponyboy was already gone.
o-o-o
Ponyboy's sprint didn't last for very long. He only made it a few yards before his vision swam. Everything swayed around him as he got off the road. He probably looked like a drunk person.
They probably were going to punish you for bothering them. They hate you. They want you gone. Just disappear.
Ponyboy felt lightheaded and his body felt weak from not eating or sleeping for a while. His knees buckled from under him and the next thing Ponyboy knew, he was falling forward. His body crashed against the ground, small stones and sticks scraping his skin.
"Whoa, kid, are you okay?" someone asked. After his vision focused, Ponyboy looked up and saw a man looming over him.
The man was in his forties. He was tall and had broad shoulders. He had a strong build, sort of like Darry. The man's hair was a deep, dark brown. In some weird way, he sort of resembled his dad. In fact, Ponyboy wouldn't be surprised if he accidentally mistook him for his dad if they were in a crowd of people (and if his dad was still alive).
"I'm fine," Ponyboy mumbled, trying to push himself up, but it felt like he had a boulder on his back.
"Son, you just collapsed. Clearly, you're not alright. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?"
"No! I'm fine, really. I'm sorry for worrying you, but I should get going."
With a sigh, the man grabbed him by the forearms and hoisted him back on his feet. Ponyboy's breath hitched. The hold on his arms was warm and they made his skin tingle. It felt good, like really good. Ponyboy closed his eyes, subconsciously leaning into the hold. He forgot what human contact felt like.
He was let go and only then did he snap out of his bliss. He whimpered quietly, wishing that he could have felt contact for a little bit longer.
Ponyboy lightly shook his head. What was he thinking? face turned beet red when he realized what he did. Hopefully, the man didn't notice.
"This is a strange question to ask, but are you alright?" the man asked again.
Ponyboy cocked his head to the side. Didn't he already answer that? "Um…"
Sensing the confusion, the man clarified. "You look sad… depressed."
How did he know that? Ponyboy's jaw dropped slightly. There was no way the man could have known what he was feeling. They just met, for Christ's sake. "How did you…"
"Your eyes…" He shifted on his feet. "I know that it's none of my business, but if you need someone to talk to… to just listen to what you have to say… I'll listen."
"Nothing I can't handle." Ponyboy tried to step to the side, but the man prevented him from going forward. The shocked expression that was on Ponyboy's face instantly turned into a weak, calculating glare. What was this man's issue? Couldn't he see that he was in no mood to talk? Why couldn't he just leave him alone?
"Talking helps a lot. I won't judge or anything. So, please… talk to me."
Man, was this man desperate. Even though it was a bit annoying, Ponyboy couldn't help but feel like all of his memories were going to come bursting out of his mouth. He always wanted for someone to listen to his story and now there was someone out there wanting to get to him. It seemed like an amazing offer, but it just seemed like it was too good to be true, "What's in it for you?"
"I don't need a reason. You just look like you really need someone right now." He touched his hand on Ponyboy's shoulder. That familiar feeling of bliss came back and Ponyboy sighed. He leaned into the touch and saw the man smile. With a red face, Ponyboy pushed himself away from the man.
"I don't know…" Ponyboy murmured.
"It'll take off a lot of weight from your shoulders. Come on, we can go to the park to talk."
There was a pause as Ponyboy took a huge step away. "No offense, but I don't even know what your name is."
"Oh, I'm Carlisle. It's hard to remember, so people just call me Carl."
"Ponyboy. My name is Ponyboy," Ponyboy answered, expecting him to make fun of his name. But he didn't. Instead, Carl smiled and complimented his name. But there were more pressing matters to address.
"Well, Ponyboy, do you want to talk about it?" Carl asked again.
Ponyboy still didn't trust the man. Name or no name. He just seemed out of place. But his offer was really good. Ponyboy always wanted to talk to someone about what he was feeling without fearing the consequences. Which was the only reason to when he said, "Sure."
o-o-o
The man led Ponyboy to a park where they sat together at a bench. Carl sat close to Ponyboy who tried to scoot farther away, but he was already situated at the edge of the bench. One more inch and he would fall off. The man leaned back, swinging one of his arms behind Ponyboy's shoulders, instantly relaxing him.
"So, tell me your story…" Carl said.
Ponyboy opened his mouth but stopped. Where would he even start? His life was crap. Plus, he shouldn't even be trusting a stranger in the first place, despite how interested he looked in the upcoming conversation.
"Would it be easier if I told you something about me first?" Carl suggested and Ponyboy nodded.
Carl took a deep sigh. "Well, then, I will have to admit. I probably wouldn't have been so persistent to talk to you if you didn't look like my son. His name was Michael."
"My middle name's Michael."
"You don't say…" The man hummed, looking up at the sky. His eyes glistened against the sunlight like an ocean. "Anyways… my wife passed away not that long ago."
"I'm sorry…" Ponyboy knew what it was like to have someone that you love pass away. It's not easy to move on.
"My son died not that long afterward. I must have told this to a dozen people, but it's still really hard to talk about. Talking helps me cope though." Carl ran his fingers through his hair. He let out a shuttered breath. "Sorry… it's just… I wasn't there for my son… so I wanted to be there for you at least."
Ponyboy sympathetically nodded. "Thank you for sharing that with me."
"So, what about you?"
"Um…" Ponyboy's mouth felt dryer than a desert. He licked at his chapped lips, feeling his heart beat faster.
"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."
Ponyboy leaned further back on the bench, feeling the cushion of Carl's arm on his neck. He should have jumped back up, but he really missed human contact and Carl didn't seem opposed to him doing it. "Well… I… uh… I messed up badly," he started, feeling tears rimming his eyes. He whipped them away. Man, Carl probably thought he was a wuss. He was going to annoy him away just like he did with the gang. "Sorry…"
A hand reached up, caressing his face, as a thumb brushed a tear that fell down. At first, Ponyboy flinched but quickly relaxed in the touch, leaning into it more. "You don't have to be sorry for this. It's okay to cry."
This only made Ponyboy cry even harder. He let out a sob as fat tears cascaded down his cheeks. "I-I-I didn't mean to. I swear. I didn't do it on purpose."
"What happened?"
"I did… I did something stupid and my friend was almost killed. We were playing catch. How was I supposed to know that Johnny would run after the ball that I threw too hard? It's all my fault. I should have paid more attention." Ponyboy sniffled. "And now my brothers and my friends started to ignore me. They told me awful things about myself… and I don't think they actually liked me? I think they just tolerated me. And I just feel so alone right now. All of this makes me wonder how much of my life was fake. I thought I couldn't break any more, but the worst feeling in the world is seeing everyone have more fun without you in the picture. It hurts so much, and I don't know how to deal with it. I don't know how much more I can take."
Carl rubbed at his shoulder. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. You don't deserve that. They shouldn't have acted that way. It wasn't your fault."
"Exactly! I'm glad someone agrees… but, it doesn't change anything… They're right about everything they said about me. I'm annoying, a tagalong, and I'm immature. I'm just Darry's and Soda's annoying kid brother that the others have to get along with." He rubbed at his eyes again. "I'm a crybaby and I'm weak. I just bother anyone I'm with."
"You don't bother me one bit! They don't know what they're talking about. You're a great person, I can tell. You need new people to treat you right and will respect you. I know it's going to be hard, but you have to sever yourself from them and find people that would always have your back. It doesn't sound like they're good people if they would do this to you."
"They're good people. They're my bu—" But Ponyboy's words fell short. Were they friends anymore? No. They hated him. He was never friends with them.
"They're not good people. I know that you care a great deal about them and all… but you have to understand that they're toxic. They don't like you and you shouldn't hold onto them. You'll only get more hurt."
"But what am I supposed to do without them?"
"Make new friends."
"You don't understand. Nobody likes me."
"I like you. I'll be your friend. I might be a lot older than you, but that doesn't matter. You're great company." Ponyboy whipped at his eyes again as he stared at Carl with a stunned expression. This man was nice. He wished he had more people in his life that were like Carl.
The two fell into a comfortable silence. Carl rubbed at his back until Ponyboy stopped crying. "Are you going to be alright?" Carl asked and Ponyboy nodded.
"I should… um… I should probably go," Ponyboy said, standing up. He looked up at the sky and noticed that it was dark. How long has he been in the park? It was daylight before. He definitely needed to go back home… not that anyone cared anyway. With a sigh, Ponyboy turned back to Carl. "Can we… Can we meet up again?"
Carl chuckled. "I would love that."
Ponyboy smiled a bit, the first smile he had in a while. He turned away, not noticing the deranged smirk that curved on Carl's face.
o-o-o
Ponyboy returned home with a bounce in his step. His body felt light, light enough to fly. But, when he opened the door and saw the gang there, waiting anxiously for him, the small smile fell off his lips. He forgot what he had to return to. Oh, god, they were angry at him. He messed up again.
When Ponyboy stepped inside, the gang saw his smile drop from his face. Most of them felt their chests tighten. They had forgotten the last time they had seen him smile, and to see him stop when he saw them was heartbreaking. But they had to wonder what happened during the time he was gone that made him so happy.
Darry stood up first and Ponyboy ducked his head, clenching his fists. "I'm sorry…"
"Where were you?" Darry demanded. "Do you know what time it is?"
"Darry!" Soda hissed. They weren't supposed to be hollering at Ponyboy. Darry glanced back, realizing his small slip-up.
He sighed, lowering his voice. "We were worried. None of us wants anything bad to happen to you."
"I'm sorry."
Get out. Leave. Run.
"It's okay. But, can we talk to you?"'
Ponyboy shook his head. They were only going to yell at him more. He couldn't handle that. Where was Carl when he needed him. Maybe he should just run back out and find him. "I… I'm tired…"
Before anyone could say anything else, he scurries to his room, locking the door behind him.
"Dammit!" he heard Dally curse and Ponyboy covered his ears. He was right. They were annoyed with him. He just wanted the night to be over so that he could meet back with Carl. Ponyboy lied down on his bed, and, for the first time in a while, he fell asleep without any nightmares.
o-o-o
The next morning, Ponyboy bounded to his feet when light filtered into his room. He quickly changed and grabbed his bag, scampering to the kitchen where Darry and Soda were already cooking. They looked started when Ponyboy ran in the kitchen.
"Hey, we're making breakfast. Yours will be done soon," Darry said, but Ponyboy ignored him, thinking that he was speaking to Soda. He grabbed an apple before running out of the house.
"At least he's eating something," Soda commented.
Ponyboy ran back to the park, collapsing on the bench that he was on the day before. Carl was yet to come, but what was he expecting? It was still early in the morning. Carl probably was still asleep. Ponyboy cursed himself for being too overly excited. He didn't even know if Carl was going to come.
"You're here early," someone said behind him and Ponyboy tilted his head back. Carl was towering over him with an amused smile.
"Speak for yourself," Ponyboy retaliated.
Carl sat down. "How are you doing?"
"Better than how I was yesterday. They tried to yell at me last night when I got back home."
"And what happened afterward?"
"I didn't let them. I went back to my room."
Carl clapped before he rubbed at Ponyboy's head, who let out an airy laugh. "That's good. They don't have the right to yell at you for nothing. I would never yell at you." Carl looked at his bag. "What's in the bag?"
Ponyboy's eyes sparkled as he excitedly grabbed his bag. He unzipped it and grabbed his sketchbook that was inside. It's been a while seen he drew anything in it. He usually had no motivation to do any sketching.
"You draw?" Carl asked. He touched the cover to the sketchbook before looking at Ponyboy for permission. "Can I?"
"Go ahead."
Carl took the sketchbook and flipped through it one page at a time. His fingers dragged against the sharp edges of the pages as he examined each picture thoroughly. He whistled. "Wow. You're really good."
Blushing, Ponyboy took the sketchbook back. "Thank you… I was… um… wondering if I could draw you?"
"Only if you can capture my great looks."
"I can assure you that it wouldn't be that hard to do."
The two of them smiled at each other teasingly before Carl burst out in laughter. "You got quite a bit of sass."
Ponyboy giggled. "Okay. Okay. You have to stay still though."
"Do you want to draw me naked like the Romans did?"
"No! Keep your clothes on. You're the wrong type of naked that should be seen."
Again, Carl laughed, giving Ponyboy a short noogie. "Just draw."
Flipping to a new page in the sketchbook, Ponyboy narrowed his eyes to observe every curve and dip on Carl. He looked back down at his page, lightly dragging his pencil down in short lines. He constantly looked back up with every line he made. It didn't take that long for him to finish the basic outline of the picture. Sketching him was surprisingly familiar. He looked so much like his brother and father that it was like second nature to him.
When he was finished, Ponyboy turned it over for Carl to look at. "I'm done. I don't think I did too good though…" He grabbed the apple that he didn't have the chance to eat.
"No, this is really good! It's so realistic!" Carl complimented.
"You think?" Ponyboy took a bite and Carl looked over.
"You're eating an apple?" He asked this in a confused tone. His eyes shifted across his body before he looked back into Ponyboy's eyes with a quizzical expression.
"Yeah? Why?" Ponyboy didn't like the tone of his voice. What did he do now?
"I'm sorry. I'm just really confused about why you would eat that. There is so much sugar in apples."
"It's a fruit."
"Fruits have sugar… a lot of it. I don't want to seem insulting or anything, but you should probably not eat it… You're a bit…"
Chubby? Was he going to say chubby? He couldn't be that. He hadn't really eaten anything for a while. Ponyboy looked down, tugging at his skin on his stomach, feeling it lift up. Ponyboy felt dread wash over him. Suddenly, he didn't feel like eating anything anymore…
o-o-o
Something was definitely wrong with Ponyboy. Even more so than before. Everyone saw it. Even though he looked a lot happier, his weight was dropping a lot faster. The gang no longer saw him eat anything. He constantly looked like he was on the verge of passing out.
He was still avoiding the gang like the plague and was always out doing who knows what. They never complained about it because they just wanted Ponyboy to be happy.
But they couldn't let this continue. His weight loss scared all of them, even Steve and Dally, immensely.
One day, when Ponyboy was getting ready to leave the house, they stopped him. Soda held out a sandwich. "Take this," he offered. Ponyboy looked up from his shoes and at the sandwich with a disgusted look.
"I'm not hungry," he replied.
"Eat it," Darry ordered.
Ponyboy shook his head. "No, one of you should eat it. You shouldn't have to spend time or money on me."
"Pony…" Johnny mumbled. "Please, eat it."
"I can't. I'm sorry."
"Why can't you?" Dally demanded.
"Kid, why haven't you been eating?" Steve asked.
"Cause, I'm fat," Ponyboy mumbled, to lowly to hear. He looked down in shame.
"What did you say?" Two-Bit pressed.
Ponyboy shook his head. "I'm fat."
"Did you say that you're fat?" Darry asked, baffled. "You're not fat, Pony! Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? Who put that ridiculous idea in your head?"
They think you look disgusting. You're revolting to look at. You should have lost more weight.
Ponyboy felt tears rim his eyes. He was never good enough. He was always going to be disgusting and pathetic no matter what he did. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to look gross."
"What?" Dally started.
"Pony, no, that's not what we meant," Soda tried to correct, but Ponyboy wasn't listening to him.
"I'm sorry. I'll get out so you wouldn't have to see me." Again, Ponyboy escaped the house, running to the park where he hoped Carl was. The gang stared at Ponyboy's retreating back in shock.
"We need to go after him," Darry declared. "We need to figure out where he's going."
The gang all agreed, running out of the house. They split up to cover more ground. But even though the kid was practically a skeleton, he was too fast. They couldn't find him anywhere.
"Did you find him?" Steve asked Dally when he bumped into him.
"Does it look like I found him?" Dally shot back.
"Where could that kid be?"
As if that sentence was a cue, they heard a sob. The two greasers exchanged looks before they chased after the sound. What they saw shocked them. They saw Ponyboy at the park, bawling his eyes out. A man was there with him, hugging the boy. Ponyboy was desperately pressing the man close to him, hands balling up the man's shirt.
They pulled apart and the man knelt down, rubbing Ponyboy's tears away, speaking to him. Dally and Steve were too far away to hear what was being said, but it seemed to lift Ponyboy up a bit. Ponyboy was nodding a lot, leaning into the man's touch. A small smile broke out on his lips and he giggled a bit when his head was rubbed.
"What the…" Dally started.
"What the hell is going on here?" Steve called out, snapping Ponyboy's and the man's attention to them. Steve stomped over with Dally right on his tail. "Ponyboy, get away from that man!"
"What? No. Why would I do that?" Ponyboy asked, stepping closer to the man, almost like he was asking him for protection.
"That man's a creep! He's obviously a pedophile!"
"No, he's not."
"Ponyboy, get away from him." Steve grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away, but Ponyboy ripped it free.
"No, let go of me!" he screamed, ducking behind the man. "Look, he's not a creep, okay? He's my friend."
"We're your friends too, and we're telling you that he's manipulating you."
"You guys aren't my friends. I don't have any friends besides Carl. You made that clear enough. You guys are manipulating me; not him."
"Can't you see that—"
"No! Can't you see that you guys, all of you, made me so miserable? You played with my emotions. You pretended to actually care for me and you turned your backs to me without even thinking. Why can't you let me be happy for once in my life? Carl is my friend and he showed me what it's actually like to have someone actually care for me."
"Kid, you got it wrong," Dally denied.
"Ponyboy, we should go," Carl suggested, touching his hand to Ponyboy's shoulder. That small movement caused Dally to see red. One moment he was glaring at the man and, the next thing he knew, his hands were curled around his neck.
"Don't touch him!"
Everything went in slow motion as Dally socked the man in the face, sending him crashing to the ground.
"Carl!" Ponyboy screamed, rushing over to the man who was rocking back and forth I pain. He glared at Dally. "Dally, what the hell?!"
"Get away from him," Steve tried again, but Ponyboy shook his head.
Ponyboy scoffed. "You guys are crazy. I'm glad that—" But Ponyboy didn't get to finish that sentence. Carl sat up. His face was covered in his blood. He reached out behind him and pulled out a blade, pressing it to Ponyboy's throat. Ponyboy' s eyes widened in shock. "Carl?"
"Shut up, kid," Carl hissed. "I'm sick of this. I'm sick of you."
"What?"
What was going on? What was Carl spouting on about? "Do you think I really care about you? I don't care if you were to die right here and now."
With that, Ponyboy felt his world crashing before him. Carl never liked him. The gang never liked him. No one ever liked him. Everyone hated him after all. He felt hurt, yes. But, most of all, Ponyboy felt betrayed.
No one will ever love you. Just kill yourself. All your pain will end.
The voice was so loud. It almost drowned everything out that was happening around him.
"Let him go!" Steve screamed, snapping him out of his daze.
Dally pulled out a heater from his waistband. He pointed it to the man who stiffened up. "You cut him, and I'll shoot you!"
"You wouldn't. You're bluffing. You'll hit Ponyboy."
"Shoot me…" Ponyboy whimpered suddenly, crying again. "Just shoot me, please. Just kill me. Please. Just put me out of my misery. I can't do this anymore. You'll be doing everyone a favor."
"What are you going on about?" Dally asked.
"Kill me. I don't want to live anymore."
"Ponyboy, listen to me. We might not act like it, but we're your friends… no… you're like our brother. We made a mistake. What happened with Johnny, it wasn't your fault. You tried to tell us that, but we didn't listen. We should have listened to you and we all regret that," Steve said. His eyes were shifting from person to person. "We don't want you to go. Your disappearance would tear us all apart."
"No, none of you would miss me if I were to just disappear. I'm disposable."
"You're wrong. You're the glue that is holding us all together. Without you, we would all fall. I just wished we understood that sooner."
"But I'm annoying and I never use my head."
"We're all annoying. We're only human."
"Why can't you use your head now?" Dally asked. "Why can't you use your freaking head to see that we aren't lying to you?"
"Shut the fuck up!" Carl interrupted, pressing the knife deeper into Ponyboy's throat. A small trickle of blood fell down his neck. "Man, I wish my car actually hit your friend. I wish it hit you too."
Everyone fell silent. Ponyboy's eyes hardened like a switch was flipped. "What? You were the person in the car?" He was the person who started this. He was the one who almost killed Johnny. Realization hit Ponyboy. "You wanted to kill me too… You were the one who killed your son, weren't you? The one who I reminded you of?"
"What of it?"
At that moment, Ponyboy felt everything in him go numb. He looked at the Steve and Dally and they seemed to get his silent message. Dally was gripping the gun so tightly that it shook. He practically radiated rage. Ponyboy knew that he was holding himself back as much as possible. Johnny meant a whole lot to him, after all, and this man was the person who nearly got him killed.
Ponyboy took a deep breath before he flung his head back. The back of his head crashed into the man's nose before he heard a satisfying crack. Carl yelled out in pain and he took that time to drop onto his back, rolling away before the knife could stab into him. As soon as he got himself a safe distance away Steve and Dally charged, kicking and punching at Carl.
Ponyboy didn't watch though. He got up, rubbing the back of his head.
When Carl was beaten to a pump and the two were satisfied with their work, they walked up to Ponyboy, bending down.
"Are you alright?" Steve asked.
"My head hurts," Ponyboy replied, earning a chuckle.
"That's because you used your head," Dally joked.
"But, seriously, are you going to be okay?" Steve asked.
Ponyboy nodded. "I think so… Why didn't you shoot him?"
Dally held up the gun before tucking it back in his pants. "It's empty. It gives a good scare."
Ponyboy hugged himself as he stood up, knees shaking. Steve tried to help him, but he slapped the hands away. "I'm fine. You guys didn't have to help me. You always have to save me. I'm sorry…"
"Don't say you're sorry," Steve scolded. "We are obliged to protect you… and vice versa. We're brothers after all."
Ponyboy couldn't help but let a smile slip on his lips. The voice in his head disappeared. It was finally silent. Dally and Steve wouldn't admit it, but they loved Ponyboy's smile. It was like the bright light at the end of a dark tunnel. Just seeing it then made them feel a lot lighter.
"Now, come on, we're going to go eat."
"What about everyone else? Wouldn't they want to know that I'm okay?" Ponyboy cocked his head to the side, knitting his eyebrows together.
"If you think that I'm going to let you return home looking like you are going to pass out, you're wrong. Go get your bag,"
Excitement filled Ponyboy, giving him more energy. "Yeah, okay, hold on."
He picked up his bag and saw his sketchbook inside. Ponyboy pulled it out, flipping it open to the page of the sketch he did of Carl. Without thinking, he tore it out, ripping it to pieces and throwing it in the trash. He jogged back to them and Steve swung his arm over Ponyboy's shoulder.
"What about Carl?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.
"He won't be awake for a while," Dally answered. "Don't worry about it."
o-o-o
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