What You Didn't See
Summary: All we saw was Ponyboy's point-of-view. Sets of drabbles of what happened "behind-the-scenes".
"Pony, I didn't mean to!"
Ponyboy ran out of the house as his older brothers yelled after him. Darrel clutched to the door frame, staring at his red palm. He knew he couldn't catch the track runner, but all he wanted to do was run after him. Sodapop was deciding whether or not to follow him. He look at Darrel, then back at the road. "Darry, he was with Johnny," he whispered, reassuringly. "He'll go back with him if he's wise."
Darrel nodded, blinking and staring out.
"Let's wait for a while, and if he's not back by two-thirty or three, we'll go after him," Sodapop said, leading his brother back to the armchair. Darry was still staring at his hands, whispering to himself. "I didn't mean to hit him," he told himself, then looked at his younger brother. "I didn't..."
"I know, Dar. Don't worry about it, he'll be fine."
"Yeah."
"And then you and Johnny turned up missing and what with that dead kid in the park and Dally getting hauled into the station, well it scared us something awful."
"Is Dallas Winston here?"
Buck eyed the cop for a moment before saying, "Wait here." and slamming the door in his face. A few moments later, Dallas went to the door to face the officer.
"Hey, Gary!" he said to the officer with a cat like grin. "What can I do for ya?"
"I'll need you to come with me. We have reason to believe that you have something to do with the murder of the boy, Robert Sheldon, in the park."
"It wasn't me, man," Dallas said quickly.
"We still need you to come with us," he ordered.
"'We?'"
"My partner," Gary pointed to the car where the second officer sat on the hood. Dallas shrugged and stumbled after him.
At the station, he was led to a room with a single window and a table with four chairs. There was a guard at the door watching Dallas's every movement. The blond greaser leaned back in his chair, using a foot against the table to keep himself balanced. "We know it wasn't you this time," Gary said quickly, making Dallas's jaw drop to the floor.
"There's a first for everything," Dallas whispered.
"We have a few eye-witnesses, who wish to keep anonymous, who have said it was a Johnny Cade and a Ponyboy Curtis."
Dallas didn't deny anything; he merely shrugged his shoulders up and down.
"Knowing you, you must know where those two boys have gone. And don't lie to us, kid."
Pushing hair from his eyes, the greaser dropped his chair to all four legs and rested his arms on the table in front of him. He stared down the officer before giving another cat grin. "I can't lie to y'all," he said. "They're goin' to Texas."
"Two-Bit got jumped a few days ago. Darry and me came along in time, but he wasn't havin' too much trouble."
Darrel and Dallas were lounging on the front porch of the Curtis house, Dallas smoking a cigarette and Darrel just staring off. It was pretty much a peaceful day; crisp, clear, clean air and not a cloud in the sky.
Darrel heard something in the distance before Dallas could hear it. Both men took a look at each other, thinking the same thing. Two-Bit. Without warning, both jumped up and off of the porch in full speed, goin' towards the park. As they went, the sounds grew louder. Then they saw him, fending off a couple of Socs with a busted bottle. Finally he cracked it over one of their heads, sending the guy to the ground. But he was up in an instant. The rusty haired greaser glanced over where Dallas and Darrel were, and he grinned before catching a punch in the face.
Now he was on the ground with one of the Socs on top of him and the other bashing his head in. That was when the other two decided on rushing to his aid.
"Two-Bit was going to Texas to look for you."
"Where ya been all day, Dal?" Steve asked when Dallas walked in the Curtis house. The rest of the gang, excluding Ponyboy and Johnny, were scattered around the room, all looking somewhat depressed, especially Darrel.
"The fuzz hauled me in."
Everyone gave either a small gasp or had wide or narrowed eyes. Dallas winked, sitting down on the couch beside Two-Bit, who was wringing his hands on his shirt tail. He was staring at the younger greaser, trying to get something from his eyes. Finally satisfied, he stood quickly, almost knocking the table over in the process. He stormed out, but was followed closely by Dallas. "What's your damn problem?" he asked Two-Bit, who was clearly mad. He stopped and spun to face Dallas, glaring.
"Where are they?" he asked sternly. "I know you know something. Otherwise they wouldn't have hauled you in"
"I don't know."
"Lie to me again and see what happens," Two-Bit hissed. "Where. Are. They?"
Dallas, taken back by Two-Bit's opposite attitude, sighed and looked around.
"Texas."
Two-Bit gave a sigh of relief before saying, "That's not too far." and turning to his car. "This old thing needs gas though." He hopped in and started it right when Dallas jumped in front of the car.
"What the hell are you doing, Two-Bit?"
"I'm goin' after them. Move or you'll eat grill."
"Two-Bit, you better stop it. Let's wait it out. Give them a week."
Two-Bit rolled his eyes, after all, no one said no to Dallas Winston. He held up a single finger as he turned the car off and removed the keys. "One week, then I'll go after them."
"There are some people to see you. Claim to be your brothers or something."
Darrel leaned against the wall of the elevator, staring at Sodapop who was practically jumping up and down. The elevator continued to rise slowly, chiming when they passed a floor. "He probably hates me," he said quickly, leaning his head against the cold metal and stopping Sodapop.
"Don't talk like that! He's finally home!"
Darrel swallowed the lump in his throat as the elevator doors slid open and Sodapop ran out. He followed a moment later to see Ponyboy in one of Sodapop's bear hugs. When they parted, Darrel patted his hands on his pockets before balling them and sliding them in. Ponyboy looked at him for what seemed like forever.
Again, Darrel swallowed and gave a husky, "Ponyboy..." He knew his eyes were pleading with his little brother, and he wished that he would understand. Another second passed and Ponyboy had grabbed Darrel around the waist before squeezing the daylights out of him.
"Shepard came by to see me a while ago."
"Anyone alive in here?" came a voice from outside of Dallas's room. The voice's owner came in a moment later with a big grin on his face. "So he does live!"
"Cut it out, Tim."
"Aw, c'mon, Dal. The rumble is today." He paused with a wider grin on as he took a seat. "Whoops. I forgot. You can't make it!" and he erupted in a roar of laughted making Dallas swat at him.
"You want a bed next to me? I can arrange it, Tim."
"Naw, I'd rather go to the rumble."
"If you don't stop it, you wont have a choice," Dally warned. Tim shrugged, still smiling.
"Anyways, I was surprised that you went in that burning church. The Dally I know would never have done that."
"Well, I had to get Johnny. Always got to stick after the gang. I had to get Pony too," Dallas said.
"Yeah, yeah." He poked Dally's burnt arm, making the blond squint a little. "You're gunna have a scar, so I hear."
"Tuff enough," he sighed.
As if he couldn't take it anymore, Tim laughed again. "I can't believe you're missing the rumble!" he roared.
"Alright, I warned ya," Dallas yelled, reaching out for Tim. Tim quickly got up and flew to the door.
"No rough housin'," Tim ordered, snickering as he left. Dallas threw a pillow, barely missing Tim's head.
"Damn him."
"He cried every night the week you were gone."
Darrel woke in the middle of the night the third day the youngest Curtis was missing. He heard a faint whimpering and sniffling. "Soda?" he called out his door. The whimpering stopped, and with a final sniff, he gave a shaky "What?" Darrel got out of his bed and went to Sodapop's room. Sodapop was sitting with his back to the door, staring out the window. Darrel continued into the room and sat beside his brother before wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"What's wrong, little buddy?" he asked, giving a squeeze. Sodapop wiped his eyes and leaned into his brother.
"First Pony, now Sandy," he whispered.
"What do you mean, Sandy?"
"Sandy left for Florida."
"Why?"
"Apparently she didn't love me," Sodapop said, catching his sob. "She's pregnant... and it's not mine," he sniffled out.
"Aw, I'm sorry." Darrel pulled him closer. "Don't worry, everything will look up. Trust me."
"...and Two-Bit came blubberin' over here with some tale about how you had a fever before the rumble and how it was all his fault you were sick."
After the first sleepless night sitting next to Ponyboy, Darrel decided to leave him with Sodapop and go catch a little sleep. At least, that's what he wanted to do. Two-Bit came in, bearing a frown and stormy eyes. "Darry, I'm sorry," he quickly said before Darrel could do anything.
"What?"
"It's all my fault he's sick. He was runnin' a fever and he told me not to tell you and I should of stopped him and I made poor judgement and it's all my fault and now he's unconscious and... and..." He stopped for a breath and rubbed his eye. "God, I'm sorry Darry. I... I should of told you but I didn't and now I feel horrible for putting this all on your shoulders and–"
Darrel held up a hand and put the other one on his friend's shoulder.
"Pony's fine. It's okay, Two-Bit." Two-Bit sniffed, but still tried not to let up any sign that he was on the verge of tearing up.
"But Darry–" Darrel again held up a hand.
"Two-Bit, you're tired. Just go home and go to bed, alright?"
"Uh, yeah... alright."
"I suddenly remember Curly Shepard's face when he slipped off of a telephone pole and broke his arm."
"Curly!" Ponyboy called up the telephone pole. "You gonna die."
"No I'm not! Look, I got a good grip and my footing is all right, kid," he called back at me with a hint of laughter. Ponyboy shrugged and waited, watching the idiot climb the telephone pole. Up on the lines were a pair of shoes that looked pretty nice. Curly dared him to go up there, but him told him that Darrel would kill him if he fell. Curly only scoffed until his foot slipped and he gripped onto the pole for dear life, legs flailing in the air. Blood was beginning to cover his hands as he gripped onto the wooden pole, the wood digging deep into his palms. Ponyboy was tensed up, staring up at the dark haired boy on the pole. Finally, he swung his feet back and regained his position.
"Oh, shit," he said, looking at his hands. "These better be some damn ass good shoes."
"They oughta be," Ponyboy called, relaxing a little.
Curly began his climb up the pole once more, groaning with each step. He finally reached the top and perched himself onto the top of the pole, some thirty feet off the ground. Ponyboy watched him as he breathed roughly, and said, "Curly, is it really worth it?"
"Damn straight. I could sell them for some dough, little kid," he called back. Okay, sure he was a year older than him, but the 'little kid' crap was pissing off Ponyboy. Now Curly was stretching out with one arm and keeping steady with the other. He grabbed the laces quickly and jerked back. With the shoes handing around his neck, Curly was on his way back down, happily boasting about his accomplishment. About half way down, a red Corvette was screaming down the road, clearly filled with Socs. They swerved and hopped the curb, skimming the telephone pole just enough to send Curly flailing for a good grip, but didn't succeed. He fell the rest of the distance to the ground. Ponyboy tried to grab him, but he slipped out of his fingers at the last moment.
Then he heard it; the nauseating crunch of the Shepard's arm breaking against the pavement. Curly'sface writhed in pain, his eyes wide and face pale. He let out a scream loud enough for Ponyboy to flinch back. Luckily they were in ear shot, at least for screams, for Tim to come running down the sidewalk. If he hadn't, Ponyboy swore the youngest Shepard would never have used the arm again.
The last thing Curly said before slipping unconscious was, "These are some damn ass good shoes, kid."
"Good deal. Use them to pay for the hospital room," Tim griped before the ambulance doors slammed and the siren blared.
