Soda, Steve and I were recounting the highlights of the rumble when the kid stumbled in the doorway. I knew something was wrong. Dally wasn't with him, and besides that, he looked like hell. Blood was smeared down the side of his face, he was covered in bruises. His eyes were wide with confusion and fear. We got quiet, and just stared at him.

Darry was on his feet in a little more than a second.

"Where have you been?" He didn't sound angry, just..worried, I guess. Pony had been gone for a couple hours.

"Ponyboy, what's the matter?" Darry finally asked. I looked back at Ponyboy, afraid to hear what he was about to say. I knew, deep down, that something had happened, something that we couldn't take back. Something permanently wrong. Something that would tear a hole in my heart.

"Johnny.. he's dead."

My breath caught in my throat. No, he had to of seen wrong.. I grit my teeth together hard as I could, and shut my eyes. I didn't want them all to see me upset.

"We told him about beatin' the Socs, and.. I don't know, he just died." Pony continued, his voice sounded rough; he didn't sound like himself. I felt my heart slowly start to tear. Johnny? Dead? Dear God, tell me this is all just a dream..

"Dallas is gone. He ran out like the devil was after him. He's gunna blow up, he couldn't take it."

Somehow I knew that Dallas had snapped. He liked to put up the whole "badass" front, hell, even I was scared to really goof around with him, but I knew that he had cared a whole lot for Johnny, and Ponyboy as well. But mostly Johnny.

"So he finally broke," I was surprised to hear myself speak. I guess I'd accidentally thought aloud. "So even Dally has a breaking point."

I sighed and buried my face in my hands and sighed inwardly. I knew this would be a long night; Dallas was probably gunna go crazy, do something stupid and get jailed again, or worse..

The phone started ringing, startling me and ripping me from my thoughts. Darry hesitantly answered it. I didn't even look up. Usually, in stressful situations, I'd tell a joke, or a crazy story about something that had happened to me, just to lighten the mood. I couldn't bring myself to say anything tonight. For once, I was at a loss for words.

When Darry hung up, he turned to us.

"It was Dally. He phoned from a booth. He's just robbed a grocery store and the cops are after him. We gotta hide him. He'll be at the lot in a minute."

We all jumped up and raced out the door. Ponyboy, who's the fastest of all of us, lagged behind. For a minute, I wondered why. Then I mentally kicked myself.

He's sick, you idiot. It's your fault too, you should o' told Darry.

Sirens wailed in the nearby distance. We got to the vacant lot just in time to see Dally come runnin' in, the fuzz hot on his heels. Once under the streetlight, only ten feet away from us, he stopped. The fuzz were there within seconds, racing from their cars, guns drawn.

What the hell is he doin'? I thought as another feeling of panic rose in my chest. I saw him reach for his pocket, and that's when I knew: He's about to get himself killed.

I remembered just a few days ago, right after I was almost jumped, he'd told us that he'd started carrying a heater. I thought it was a bit crazy, it'd be a good reason for Socs to kill him. He said it wasn't loaded, said it was only good for a bluff. To protect himself. The irony right now could have been funny.

He drew the gun from the waistband of his jeans, and pointed it straight at the cops. No, I thought. It was too late though; the cops didn't hesitate for even a split second before they fired rounds at him. Dallas jerked back from the impact of the bullets to his chest, he fell and hit the ground with a sickening crack. It was all over now.

The fuzz stood there, looking at us, their guns still drawn. Great, they're gunna shoot us now too, I thought. I looked at Dal's body lying on the ground. Could this night get any worse?

Soda and Steve were holding onto each other, and Darry was arguing with the fuzz. I stood still, my thumbs in the back pockets of my jeans. I felt like barfing as I looked at the scene a few feet away. Ponyboy stood there, unmoving.

Poor kid, I thought. I started to walk over to him, and that's when I saw him sway. Just a little bit at first, but then more and more.

"Glory, look at the kid!" I shouted, trying to get Darry and Soda's attention. They both turned around, just as the kid fell. He hit the ground with a thud as well, just like Dallas had only moments ago. For the third time in one night, my heart tore.

This time, it was worse though. This was my fault. The kid was sick, and it was my fault for not telling Darry. I couldn't handle it anymore; as the rain started to fall, I looked up toward the sky. "What the hell did I do to deserve this?"

I wasn't exactly sure who I was talking to. God, maybe. I dropped down beside Soda and Darry, who were shaking the kid's shoulders. I grabbed the front of his white T-shirt and shook him as well.

"Wake up, dammit," I hissed. If the kid died, his blood would be on my hands for the rest of my life. I would never be able to face Soda and Darry again. "Wake up.." I said again, quieter.

"Two-Bit, buddy, calm down," Steve growled in my ear. He grabbed me by my shoulders and hauled me to my feet. "Get a hold of yourself, man." Quickly, I composed myself. Trying to take my mind off the heart-breaking situation two feet away, I turned my attention to the other one.

The fuzz were searching Dallas's body, and I walked over, hoping they'd at least find my switchblade. I really needed some good out of this.

"Sorry, son," one of the cops said. "Ain't found no knife on 'im." I saw behind him that Dallas's body was being bagged up. A tear came to my eye, not for the knife, but for my dead buddy. I shook it away, and walked back to my remaining friends. Darry had picked Pony up off the wet ground, he and Soda were walking back towards the house. Steve was waiting for me. When I joined him, we followed two grief-stricken brothers back to their house.

Neither Steve and I spoke on the way back to the house. We were both wrapped up in our thoughts, I guess. Things would never be the same again. I knew that. There was nothing I could of done about Johnny and Dallas, but if Pony died..well, that would definitely be my fault.

Your fault..

I sighed. Indeed it was going to be a long night.