Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders.

Through the veil-like curtains that were draped over the window Pony could see the two black silhouettes. The thin, frail shadow seeped to hug the wall as it coward away from the tall, broad one. A beer bottle flew out of the man's hand and broke against the wall only inches from Johnny's head. The man screeched angry words that Pony couldn't quite make out.

Pony gripped the white picket fence until his knuckles were white and closed his eyes for just a moment. He hated himself for not doing anything to stop Johnny's old man, but he wasn't sure what he could do. If he busted the door down, the man would probably flatten him against a white wall, maybe knock him out, and then who knew what would happen.

"Coward," Pony whispered through gritted teeth, a pained expression entrenched on his face. Johnny had to go through that all the time, but Pony couldn't stomach the idea of getting a beating like that even once.

The front door burst open with a force that threatened to tumble the ramshackle house. Johnny came flying out, feet barely hitting the ground as he ran. He had a long cut on his cheek, probably from a piece of the beer bottle, and blood trickled down his chin from a busted lip. His deep brown eyes were wide and seemed to scream with fright.

"Get out of here, you little shit," Johnny's old man slurred from the doorway. He stumbled back into the dark depths of the house, cussing better than a sailor ever could. He could barely keep from tumbling over and Pony knew that if he were closer, he would be able to smell the stale alcohol on his breath.

Pony took off after Johnny who was running with no clear destination other than "far, far away." Pony had learned a long time ago that no matter how far or fast you ran, your problems always caught up. You couldn't escape them. He wondered if he had every bothered telling Johnny that. The light began to dim and darkness threatened to swallow Johnny so that Pony could not follow. He sped up, not willing to lose his friend to the cold, uncaring of the night.

It was probably another half a mile before Johnny pulled up and Pony could hear his panting long before he reached him. The two boys were outside of town and alone in the great expanse of farmland that encompassed Tulsa. Their hair was windblown despite the grease that stiffened it. Johnny wiped the stream of blood off his chin with the sleeve of this old, beat up jacket. He began to tremble and turned away, but not before Pony saw a tear trickle down his cheek.

"Johnny," Pony began, taking a step forward. He was cut off by the older boy's soft, shaking voice.

"I can't do it anymore, Ponyboy. I can't live like this anymore. What did I do to make them hate me like this?"

Johnny rubbed his side and grimaced as he sat down on the cold ground. Pony guessed he had been kicked, maybe even cracked a rib or two.

"You ain't done nothing," he replied as he too sunk to the ground.

"You never did nothing wrong Pony and your parents liked you just fine, so I musta done something wrong," Johnny cried, the tears now flowing freely down his face. They mixed with the blood form his cut and turned a cherry red color. "I can't keep pretending there ain't nothing wrong."

With a start, Pony realized that it was partly his fault that Johnny tried to pretend nothing was wrong. He had always known about what went on at Johnny's place, but he always acted like it wasn't happening. If Johnny ever tried to say anything about it, he blew him off or changed the subject, thinking Johnny could just forget about it and be a "normal," innocent kid for a little while. Pony had always thought that he was helping Johnny by doing this, protecting him from the truth the way he would protect a kid brother. Now, he realized that all he had done as force Johnny to keep everything to himself until he finally couldn't handle it anymore and blew. Pony shuddered, knowing that what Johnny needed most was someone to spill to, someone to tell him everything was going to work out alright. He closed his eyes and sighed, ashamed that he had not been that friend for Johnny.

"You don't have to and you didn't do anything wrong, Johnny," Pony said, putting an arm around the smaller boy's trembling shoulders. "You just got some rough parents, that's all."

Johnny covered his face with his hands and cried while Pony patted his head gently. Pony gazed out over the brown fields that were dotted with yellow dandelions. He guessed the must go on forever even though the seemed to end at the horizon and turn into a mystical blue canvas speckled with shimmering, white stars. The night sky could always calm him down because it always seemed so serene and peaceful no matter what was happening down on earth. He though it might settle Johnny's nerves too. When Johnny quieted down a bit, Pony laid back and Johnny followed suit, still whimpering softly. The two boys watched the sky together for awhile. Pony wondered if some all-powerful being had put it there to make up for the hell of Tulsa, Oklahoma.

"Johnny," he asked.

"Yeah?"

"I'm real sorry I haven't been such a great friend through all this."

"You've been a good friend, Ponyboy. I don't know what I would be doin' without you."

"I should have been better," Pony spat out, still angry with himself.

Johnny just shook his head and Pony looked over at him, trying to read his thoughts. All he could see were two old and weary chocolate eyes that should have been filled with all the innocence of a sixteen year old boy. Pony had once heard his mom say that you could be old before your time. She had been talking about Dallas and how he had been through more than a lot of people her age. That must have happened to Johnny, too.

"I used to think about dyin' a lot," Johnny said suddenly. "Sometimes I thought it would be a nice change, but then I'd think about you and the gang and deicide I still had something to live for."

If anything, that just made Pony feel worse. Johnny had been and maybe still was that bad off, but he had barely even noticed. Darry had probably noticed. That was just another way Darry had managed to out shine him. Damn, Pony thought. It didn't matter how he compared himself to his older brother, he never managed to measure up.

"Shoot kid. You got a lot more to live for than me and the boys," Pony said. "You're gonna get outta school, meet a nice little broad, have a few kids."

"That sounds more like Dal than me," Johnny said.

"Naw," Pony smirked. "That sounds like you. Dal's gonna have a few broads, a lot of one nighters, and even more illegitimate kids."

Johnny chuckled, his laugh carrying over the field like a soft breeze. Pony thought it was nice to hear that coming from the boy for a change, but even more gratifying to see the innocent smile on his face.