The air was thick. The deeper he breathed, the more confined he felt, like his lungs were going to volley, collapse under their own pressure. The Greaser fiddled with his hands, crossing his fingers and biting at his nails every few moments. This was a rumble like no other, and he pronounced it wasn't fair. Children shouldn't be fighting wars to benefit the destitutions their governments were facing. He had endured enough. He had suffered enough. Everyone here had suffered enough.

Johnny blinked, freeing himself from his daze, catching sight of something serrated and glinting against the vague sky behind the window.

It sure didn't look like Dally was suffering.

"An opportunity," he had cooed in readiness, never taking his eyes off of the switchblade in his hands.

"They're gonna use heaters, too," Johnny murmured after a moment, and it seemed for the first time that night, Dally glanced at his friend. A thin smile crossed his lips and his eyes gleamed like his blade, laughing at Johnny's grey expression. "Don't worry," he assured the boy, reaching down and impinging the waistline of his pants, lifting his shirt. Johnny's eyes trailed behind and widened at the sight.

Black boomed against Dally's skin.

"I've got one, too," he divulged proudly, rebounding his attention back to his blade, leaving Johnny's mind to barrel over the possibilities all starting with that gun.

"You should get yourself one, too, Johnnycakes. 'M afraid I won't be there to protect you tonight."

Johnny peered up at his friend.

"Got some business to take care of," Dally said slowly, slurring his words together in a way Johnny didn't like.

Johnny shook his head, stammering against the Greaser's suggestion. Dally clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth and shook his head in a satiric manner. Johnny of course, was not the least bit amused.

"Suit yourself. I'm going to have fun with this."

Of course Dally devised on having leisure during this event, Johnny reflected, the corners of his mouth twisting downwards. This was a pensive matter, he thought helplessly. Dally was treating it like a jest, he was playing God and he knew it. It amused him though, Johnny perceived, knitting his eyebrows together in the Greaser's direction. The thought of losing his friend sparked deep inside him, though Johnny didn't brood too much. Dally may be trigger happy, but he was astute. Or more so, he wasn't going to be stupid enough to die during something like this. That didn't mean he wasn't going to get hurt, though, his mind sang.

He wants to go alone.

What if Johnny wasn't there? Who would take his place? If Dally got hurt, nobody would be there to aid him. If it got to the point, nobody would be there to save him.

Johnny almost trembled at the thought. He was drowning in his own thoughts again, everything shuffled together, there were no spaces between the words and no moments to catch his breath. His dark eyes were broad and gaping at the Greaser. Dally discerned this, and stared back, in spite of Johnny not noticing for a few moments.

"Hm?" Dally purled, somewhat smirking between satisfaction and vim. He was amused once again.

Johnny's eyes focused, relinquished their glaze as he glanced away, blushing in embarrassment.

"I-I'm going with you," he sputtered, though his voice was soft.

Dally sat up a bit straighter and Johnny shifted in his seat at the motion, clasping his hands together and struggling not to let his breath catch in his throat.

"Okay," Dally fated, then grinned, leaning in and grabbing the boy's shoulder, gripping tightly. Johnny tried to smile. He moved against his friend's touch, a mute act of gratitude, his simper reassuring, wanting to shrink back at his friend's, though. He felt something burning in himself, and he felt it burning in Dally, too.

"Good."

"Sodapop, you're watching him."

Soda laughed knowingly, nodding his head and flashing Darry a bracing smile. " 'Course I am," he vested, staring into his brother's hard eyes.

Darry blinked in riposte, walking out of the living room and into the kitchen, already explaining to Ponyboy what was going to happen in a inexorable voice. Soda knew Ponyboy was already aghast enough, he didn't need Darry trying to scare him anymore, yet he got where his older brother was coming from, and didn't resent him for it.

Sodapop flipped through the channels on the television aimlessly. Nothing good was on, and the reasons behind that were lucid. He wasn't exactly excited for the Purge, in spite of Darry's insinuations, but more so intrigued, piqued. How could you not be, when your older brother contraband the word due to his enmity for the subject, and your younger brother was so deathly afraid of it, he couldn't seem to quit shaking? Excitement and fear were rising up in the Greaser like a sort of sickness, and it didn't take a doctor to see that his mind was already infected. There had to be a middle ground, and Soda was felicitous to take that place.

He couldn't help but want to be out there, he thought, cursing under his breath.

The Greaser's eyes began to glaze over.

Steve was out there. He couldn't help but want to be with Steve.

A few hours previous, Steve had stopped by, ribbing Darry lightheartedly and even smiling at Ponyboy before pulling Soda aside. They were in his room, the door was cracked open and the light aerial cast an orange tint to everything. Steve had beamed at Soda and grabbed his hands, reticulating their fingers before Soda got the chance. His happiness was almost catching. He leaned forward and closed his eyes, pressed his lips to the boy before him. Soda locked his lips tight when Steve pulled away, cheeks flushed, his hands pliable in Steve's. The Greaser's eyes idled on Soda, causing his blush to deepen. He wanted to say the three words he fiercely desired were true.

"I'm going out tonight," Steve had said airily, as if in a reassuring manner.

Soda had nodded his head, his eyes shifting into a higher gear as he felt his hands wane under the pressure of Steve's grip.

"I'll be back," he had promised.

"Okay," Soda murmured. It was a lie, but it was a beautiful lie, so much so that Soda believed it.

A soft smile still on his lips, Steve veered in and kissed the Greaser's cheek before backing away languidly and walking out of the room. He didn't seem to notice his boyfriend's pale face or lack of reactions, while Soda turned Steve's promise over in his mind.

Sodapop was left with his mouth agape, reaching up and touching his cheek. His mind had loitered the moment he saw Steve. He wasn't left scared, wondering what could happen out there, what Steve was up to and what could go unsound, though. The only thing on his mind was Steve. How he trusted him. How he felt about him.

How he should've told him he loved him.

Soda wasn't imprudent though, more disappointed, vanquished than anything. It seemed like a pretty superior moment to tell him. Only two things stood in the way, Steve being one of them.

Renunciation was something Soda was sure he couldn't take, he just couldn't handle. If Steve didn't return his feelings-

Soda had shook his head, sauntering back out into the living room and turning on the television, sitting down on the couch, deciding not to agonize about that right now. Instead, he could fret about the second fault: people's reactions. How would everyone respond, or oppose? His brothers? The rest of the Greasers?

Soda glanced down at the stained floor beneath him, holding his head in his hands, eyes diverse.

He couldn't lose them. They were all he had. And he loved Steve. Soda loved Steve. He missed him already. He wanted him beside him, with him. Soda needed Steve, he loved him. This was a facet now, a statement that would not change on Soda's end if people did not uphold. Sure, Soda needed his brothers' and the Greasers' endorsements and standpoints, but if they didn't approve, if they didn't accept him, if no one accepted him, what would happen to him? Never mind that, he thought bitterly, his heart thrashing against his chest. What would happen to Steve? Would they drive him in a direction opposite to Soda? If they didn't accept-

Soda closed his eyes and let out an interminable breath, an exasperated sigh.

He couldn't stand losing his family, but if he lost Steve too? The Greaser knew he wouldn't be able to take it.

"Soda!" Darry barked, snapping Soda out of his daze.

"Coming," Soda countered, standing up and ambling over to the kitchen. Ponyboy was sitting at the table, eating something leisurely, eyebrows knit together in palpable worry, while Darry was standing behind him, arms crossed over his chest. Soda instantly knew Darry had fed Ponyboy something to help him feel better, and smiled softly. He had gotten quite parental since their mom and dad had died.

"I'm going out for a bit."

Ponyboy's head swiveled to his oldest brother, beginning to say something before Darry cut him off.

"Johnny said something about Dally taking part in this, this tonight. I don't need him dragging us into anything." He added the last part in a subdued voice, looking away from his siblings. Soda tried to think back to the last time he heard Darry stutter due to fear. Though overwrought, Ponyboy looked back at Soda, who smiled cordially, mouthing that everything would be fine. His brother simply gawked for a moment longer, then shifted his attention back to Darry, whose eyes were now on Soda, a finger thrust out and jabbing in Ponyboy's direction.

"Keep an eye on him."

Soda nodded.

"I'll be back," Darry went on, opening the back door and, for the first time since Soda could remember, bolting it behind him. His gaze cast downward for a hasty second, then back at Soda and Ponyboy.

"I promise."

The door slammed shut behind him.

A/N: I think everyone has thought of this crossover before, but since the election is in swing, I thought it would be kinda cool to write about this. I've never done more than one chapter in any of my fanfics before, so wow I hope this all turns out okay, heh. This chapter takes place only a few months after Mr. and Mrs. Curtis died, about the time the actual book takes place, but obviously something happened within the government to allow the Purge to happen. The goal is to try and update this every week or so, but I'm sure lots of you can guess I'm not very good at that. Anyways, I apologize if there were any sentences that didn't make sense or misspelled words, or anything along the lines of that, and I hope you all enjoy the story, and the more chapters to come! :D