It has been a while, eh? I bailed out on my last fic, because it was just going nowhere. So I wrote this, and thankfully this is as far as it can go. :)
I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS!
But, I do own Leigha (pronounced like Leah, I had to change the spelling because I am just complicated like that. Oh, and Leigha is Darry's daughter.)
Can be considered a drabble.
Ponyboy's point of view.
WARNING: Mentioned slash.
It was December. And I was still expecting Johnny to be there when I woke up. Not every day, glory, I couldn't handle that. Every now and then, I'd wake up and see the back of Soda's head and want to reach out for Johnny, but I would always remember the fire and that Johnny died 3 months ago. Then I would cry about 3 tears then I'd sniff and Soda would wake up. I didn't want Darry and Soda knowing I still cried about him. The last time someone openly cried about him was two months ago, and it was Two-Bit.
Leigha didn't cry. In fact, I think she was the only one out of the whole gang that didn't cry. She was just kind of confused. She was very young, and hadn't been faced with mortality, yet.
At the funeral, I was tore up worse than anyone. I felt dead to everyone, my boyfriend was gone and I could never hold his hand, or anything ever again. His casket was open, but there was a veil. I wanted to jump in with him, and I think Darry sensed it, so he kinda held onto my shoulder.
I was glad that I didn't remember him like he was when he was dying. I remembered him when he was being sweet, or when we were alone, or when Darry, Soda and Steve were laughing at us while we held hands. For some reason I vividly remembered this one time a long long time ago. We didn't even like each other then. I don't think. Maybe we were too little. It was Soda's birthday and Mom and Dad were throwing foam footballs with Darry and Two-Bit. Johnny was laughing at them and the one part I remember so much that it kills me, is when he looked over at me and just smiled. Just a simple, small smile and he looked beautiful.
After the funeral we all went to my house and just sat around. I was still pushing tear after tear. I don't think anyone noticed. Darry, Soda, and I talked about it. They reminded me that he knew I loved him and that I'd always have him in my heart. Which helped with the grief.
And I do. He lives now, in my heart. In my Johnny-sized memory box. I tell him every day that I love him, and I know he can hear me.
I hope you like it!
Constructive criticism is welcome.
Flames are not.