The Outsiders was the first book I remember every really loving. Of course, back when I read it, I didn't have the internet or even my own copy of the book or the movie...I first watched the film in school after we read West Side Story, something I still don't understand the logic of. They're quite different. Regardless, I fell in love, and it was only recently that I reread the book and remembered how much I loved it...and all the alternate stories I used to come up with before I even knew what 'fanfiction' was. So I thought I'd try actually writing one down and seeing how it went. I hope you guys enjoy it.
Anything
The guy dropped me off outside my house and wished me good luck before driving away. I couldn't even be mad at Dally for leaving me at the hospital, honestly. Our best friend was dead. We'd just watched him die, and Dally couldn't take it. Johnny had meant everything to him. Heck, Johnny had meant everything to me too. He was my best friend. Had been my best friend. Was my best friend. Now he was dead. I was fourteen and my best friend was dead. I glanced around, realizing how late it was. Wandering around in the streets, trying to get home, had taken a long time. I was lucky that guy had stopped and given me a ride. I hadn't even caught his name…I had bled on his seats though. Slowly, I climbed the steps to our house, pushing the door open and stepping inside.
"Where have you been?" It was my brother's voice that greeted me as I stepped into the living room. I stared at him, silently pleading that we wouldn't have to do this again. I didn't have the energy to run away right now. If he hit me this time, I'd probably just stay down. "Ponyboy? What's the matter?" He asked, his voice going kind of quiet…or maybe my head was too loud. I could almost hear my blood rushing, and I knew that the back of my head was probably still bleeding. I blinked, trying to force myself to focus on him.
"Johnny...he's dead." I stood by the door, amongst the remaining members of our gang, all of us bruised and beat up. Steve seemed to be the worst off…or maybe Two-Bit. My head swam as I tried to process this. Johnny was dead and Dally was losing it. Bud Johnny couldn't be dead. I felt it in my gut that Dally was going to do something stupid. I'd always thought that Dally couldn't love anyone…apparently I had been wrong. "Dallas is gone. He couldn't take it." I told them simply, staring at the floor. I thought Two-Bit said something but I didn't respond. I had a feeling my brothers were communicating while I wasn't looking, because it was quiet for a moment, all eyes on me.
"Ponyboy?" I glanced up, finding Sodapop standing in front of me. He looked rough, lips split and cheek bruised. I couldn't focus…I closed my eyes, my head hitting the door as I leaned against it. "Ponyboy, you look sick. Sit down." He urged gently. In my head, though, I could hear a voice, whispering as though next to my ear.
'What would you do to save him?' I brought a hand up, touching the side of my head, which felt strange and scrambled. When I moved it, it came away bloody. My brother called to me again, this time sounding more upset. Someone touched my shoulder.
"Anything." Everyone stopped as I spoke aloud, my voice seeming to echo in the silence. I was shaking like a leaf, and Soda stood beside me, his eyes narrow, brow furrowed in concern. Still the voice was in my head. 'What would you give? What would you do to save him?' I didn't know if it was talking about Johnny or Dallas. It didn't matter. "Anything." I said it again, feeling my eyes heat up.
"What are you talking about, Pony?" He asked, his voice somehow far away, and I heard the others talking once more.
'What would you do?' My fingers dug into my scalp, pulling the blond hair at the roots. I felt sick. 'What would you do to save him?' The gang couldn't exist without Johnny. Hadn't Two-Bit told me that? And what about Dally? We needed him too. He was tough and fearless…he'd protected Johnny. He'd helped us escape; given us a place to hide out. Sometimes Dally scared me, but I knew he'd be there if I ever really needed him…if the gang needed him. We were all so damn young. None of us deserved this, least of all Johnny and Johnny was dead. Soda was holding my shoulders gently, and I didn't pull away. I couldn't. Something bad was going to happen. Johnny was gone and I knew that soon, Dally would be too. I'd seen it in his eyes when he'd fled the hospital, leaving me to find my own way home. 'What would you do?'
"Ponyboy?" That was Darry and he sounded scared, but everything was going dark, spots appearing in my vision. Johnny was gone. My best friend was gone. The phone was ringing. Two-Bit was talking…maybe to me. Darry was crouching in front of me, hands on my arms, shaking me.
"Anything!" I screamed it, hands ripping at my hair as everything went dark, and I felt myself falling. Despite Darry holding me, I hit the ground. Hard.
"Ponyboy! Pony!" I jerked awake, gasping, drenched in sweat. My head hurt, and my ribs hurt, and while I was thinking about it, everything else hurt something awful too. The blackness was still there…and then a foot slammed into my side, forcing a grunt from my mouth. I blinked, trying to figure things out quick. Someone was yelling for me. Someone was beating the shit out of me too…both seemed equally important. Another foot hit my side, and I felt something give, a breathless cry escaping.
"Stay down, pal." I frowned at the words, my brain slowly catching up. I wasn't at home, it finally decided, my brain late to the party as usual. Darry did always say I needed to get my head out of the clouds. Not only was I lying on wet grass, if either of my brothers saw someone kicking me like this, they'd probably kill them…which reminded me…
"Give me a drink for this greaser!" I rolled over a little at the words, and the first thing I saw was the fountain. Four Socs had someone pinned down in the water. One pulled out a flask, and the roaring in my ears and the pain in my ribs died down as I watched them pour something over Johnny's head. Johnny…Johnny Cade. Johnny Cade who I had just watched die. I thought I might throw up, my stomach churning as I fought to keep whatever was in it down. This had to be some kind of weird dream…I had been the one in the fountain! Only I could hear Johnny's cries of pain subsiding as he was dunked in the cold water once more, could feel the pressure on my lungs every time I moved…I was an expert on nightmares, and this wasn't one.
Johnny was drowning, and I was lying there, bleeding on the grass. I could never beat those guys one on one though, especially with what felt like broken ribs. I had to assume that somehow, someone was giving me a second chance, and as strange and surreal as it seemed, I wasn't about to turn it down. I remembered standing at Johnny's hospital bed, hearing his whispered, breathless plea for me to 'stay gold.' I remembered watching Dally implode, and the long walk home. The fire in the church. Darry's hand as it made contact with my face…the silence that fell over the three of us as I leaned against the door what felt like so long ago. I supposed that last part was still the same.
As I lurched to my feet, I wondered why this second chance couldn't have started before I ran off…before my brother had hit me and someone had kicked me repeatedly in the side, but I supposed, somehow detached as I made my way over to the Socs that were holding Johnny under the water, that it wasn't up to me to determine when my do-over started. I reached into my pocket. I had no idea what made me do it, but I did, fingers closing around cold steel. It was Johnny's.
I flipped the switch, hearing the low click as the blade popped out. Why did I have Johnny's switchblade? I had one of my own…at home. On the table by the bed. Darry was always on me to carry a blade…to be more careful…to come home on time and do my homework and get my head out of the clouds. I remembered the hospital, then, and how he'd looked, standing there, arms limp at his side as he stared at me, lost and shaken. I couldn't ever remember seeing my brother like that. I remembered how he'd grabbed me, arms tight around me as he'd rocked us back and forth, and for the first time in a long time, how I had realized how much my brother actually cared about me. I felt a fierce pang of regret…I'd never see that now, surely. There was only one way this would go, and I couldn't see my brother ever looking at me the same again after this.
What was I willing to do? What was I willing to give? It was an easy question to answer. I'd seen my friend die, all because of me. I'd watched him in that fire, working to save the kids and then his body in the hospital…paralyzed from the waist down. Flashes of those memories came back…Dally threatening to kill me if I ever did anything like that again. Two-Bit belting me one good in the face and telling Johnny that the gang couldn't get along without him. The kids, their faces terrified as I approached, not because I was a tough hood, but because of the fire I'd started. Or Johnny had started. The point was we shouldn't have been in there in the first place. So this was what I would do. I would switch places with him.
The Socs didn't see me coming. It was so easy…all I had to do was run up to them. Well…not run. I couldn't run. But I shuffled. I buried the blade into the guy that held Johnny down, watching him arch his back around the knife, a strangled cry escaping. Bob. His name was Bob. He'd beat up Johnny before. Now I was holding the handle of the switchblade that was embedded in his spine. I thought I might throw up. Anything. That's what I'd said. I'd do anything. I didn't regret it, but I felt the blade moving around his spine, and bile rose in my throat.
Suddenly it was like everything went from black and white, like in the old movies, to full color, full volume real life. I stumbled back, yanking the blade out and watching the guy crumble. The remaining Socs whirled on me, eyes wide as they backed away, drunk and scared. I reached out, grabbing Johnny and pulling him out onto the concrete, my blade pointed at the Socs as Johnny collapsed behind me. "Back off!" I snapped, unable to come up with anything more threatening as the blood dripped from my knife to the concrete. Trying to channel Dally, or even Two-Bit, I glared at them, leaning in like I could attack any minute. I hoped they didn't notice my hand shaking, but even if they did, the fact that Bob was on the ground at my feet, no longer moving, seemed to sober them up quick.
They ran. Immediately I dropped to Johnny's side, shaking him sharply, patting his face and calling his name. I didn't recognize my own voice…it was high pitched, panicked and breathless, like I was wheezing. Breathing was strangely difficult, and in some part of my mind, I knew that my ribs were probably broken, but I couldn't focus on that…or anything, other than the fact that Johnny was alive. My hands shook as I coaxed him awake, but as soon as he was conscious, he was rolling over, coughing up fountain water. Turning to give him some privacy, I realized I was staring at Bob. Bob the Soc. Bob the Soc who I had just killed. Jumping to my feet, I shuffled awkwardly over to the grass and threw up.
Once we had both stopped emptying our stomachs in the grass, Johnny looked over at me, shivering and wide eyed. "Pony?" I was shaking, which made no sense because Johnny was the one who'd been soaked from head to toe in a fountain, and was now being exposed to the freezing night air. My teeth chattered, and I tried clenching my jaw to stop them.
"I killed him." The words were familiar…hadn't Johnny said the same thing? I couldn't remember all that clearly. I'd still been kind of fuzzy after I'd regained consciousness over a week ago. I stared at the guy's body, watching the blood pooling around him. "I just…killed him."
"You saved my life, man." He mumbled, shaking his head. I stared back at him, wide eyed, my body literally vibrating. How was I supposed to answer that? "Pony, we've got to get outta here." He snapped suddenly, reaching down and yanking me to my feet. Without my consent, a cry escaped from my mouth, and my arm wrapped around my ribs. Johnny dropped his arm, hovering a bit. "Pony? You okay?" I had forgotten about my ribs, but the brief flash of adrenaline was gone and the shock was setting in…and shock didn't take away the pain in my side.
"They were going to kill you." My voice was numb as I stared back at him, wondering how he could seem so calm. I felt like I was about to break apart at the seams. But it had been like this before...Johnny had been cool, as cool as Dally and just as tough. I knew what he was going to say next, and I had no answer. I felt like I was living in a film, just going along with the lines I'd been given.
"We need to go see Dally, okay? He'll know what to do. Dally can get us out of this." My heart lurched as I remembered Dally, eyes wide as he watched Johnny die, his hand slamming into the wall, telling me to toughen up so nothing could hurt me when, soon, he would fall apart…when Johnny died. I'd saved Johnny. And probably Dally. I'd just killed someone. For Johnny and Dally. I suddenly wanted to lie down. "Pony, come on!" Johnny was trying to coax me forward, and after a moment, I let him. I'd saved them. Wasn't that all that mattered? I hadn't really thought about what came next.
The walk was excruciating. I wondered how Johnny had managed it before. Had his ribs been killing him too? I hadn't even asked…man I was a shit friend. I glanced over at him now as we walked the familiar route to Buck's. I wasn't supposed to go there. Darry had warned me…heck, so had Soda. When Sodapop told me not to go somewhere, I always knew to listen. Why didn't I feel that way about when Darry asked me not to do something? Because instead of taking it as the advice of a big brother, I saw it as the nagging of a parent? A parent who wasn't even my parent, but my 20-year-old big brother who'd given up everything to make sure this family could stay together. I was a shit friend and a shit brother. The thoughts didn't make me feel any better, but at least they distracted me from the agony in my side, and how every breath seemed to scrape my lungs.
"Pony, you alright?" I supposed I was wheezing. Had Johnny been wheezing while we'd walked all the way from the park? I hadn't noticed. I stopped in the middle of the road, pulling Soda's sweater off. For some reason, my right hand was wrapped around something, and my ribs pulled as I managed to yank the shirt off. "What the heck, man? What are you doing?" He asked, staring at me wide eyed and confused. I pushed it at him, not caring that we were on the sidewalk.
"You're soaked. Wear that…you'll get sick." I managed, still shaking.
"It's freezing, Pony. You can't just walk down the street without a shirt!"
"Just put it on. Give me your jacket." I ordered, holding out a hand. After a moment, he peeled off the wet denim jacket and I shuddered as I put it on, buttoning it as best as I could one handed, as my right hand still held something…had for a while. My brain refused to process that as Johnny pulled Soda's old sweatshirt over his head, throwing his wet shirt onto the sidewalk. Then we were walking again, me trying to ignore the freezing material on my skin and Johnny rubbing his hands together, trying to warm up.
"Hey Ponyboy?" Johnny spoke softly as we walked along the sidewalk, neither of us keeping an eye out for Socs. At this point, if they jumped us, we were dead anyway.
"Yeah?"
"Where did you get that blade? I thought you didn't carry one." I glanced over to find him staring at me, his face confused.
"Ain't mine. It's yours." He paused, his steps faltering for a moment. I just focused on getting one foot in front of the other. My breathing was short, like I'd just smoked a full pack while running track. I could almost feel my ribs poking my insides and hoped they'd leave my lungs alone.
"How did you get my blade?"
"I don't know." I admitted, my voice still flat. "I don't remember. I didn't steal it…I don't think." He seemed even more concerned after that, but didn't ask any more questions.
I didn't know why we were going to Dally. Part of me just wanted to see him okay…not torn up about Johnny or pulling kids out of a burning building or lying in a hospital bed. Another part of me knew what he was going to suggest…and I wasn't running. I just wanted to go home. Still, I walked all the way to Buck's with Johnny, letting him knock on the door and standing behind him as the irritating cowboy answered.
"Whatta ya want?" He demanded, looking us over in tired disinterest. In the room behind him, I could hear honkey-tonk music and flinched a bit when someone yelled 'yeehaw.'
"Dally." Johnny told him, speaking above the music. "We gotta see Dally!"
"He's busy!" Like the first time I'd done this, the sounds of people cheering and the cheap music made me want to scream, grating on my nerves.
"Tell him it's Pony and Johnny! He'll come." He insisted. Hadn't I said that before? I smiled briefly at the thought, watching as Buck disappeared into the house. Johnny was still the level-headed one here. There was something in my hand. My brain kept telling me that and I kept ignoring it.
Darry appeared then, bare-chested in only a pair of blue jeans, and I could have cried. He wasn't burned up. He wasn't hurt. He wasn't screaming and hitting walls or pulling blades on doctors. He was okay. I was shaking so hard there was no way I could talk. He narrowed his eyes a bit at me, then at Johnny. "Okay, kids. Whatta ya need me for?" He asked, sounding tired. I wondered at the fact that he wasn't even surprised. Did people often come to him for advice on post-murder escape?
Johnny began explaining. I'd heard it before. Before, I'd looked at him and wondered what Cherry could possibly see in him. Now I was just deliriously grateful that he was okay. When I'd watched him run out of that hospital room, I'd felt a pit growing in my stomach, threatening to rise up and choke me. I'd known that he was going to do something incredibly stupid…maybe even get himself killed. How would the gang survive without Johnny or Dally? Johnny had wanted me to stay gold. Killing someone wasn't gold. But now they got to live. Honestly, I just wanted to hug him, to tell him I was glad he was okay, but he would probably just shove me off and break another rib. Dally didn't really do 'affection.' Not with anyone but Johnny.
Johnny was yanking me inside and I flinched. He muttered an apology, and Dally glanced back at us as he led us into the house, past the crazy partygoers that showed no sign of stopping despite it being almost three a.m. He walked slowly, carefully, and I remembered Tim Shepherd, and how they'd gotten into it. Looks like I wasn't the only one with busted ribs. The Hank Williams music blasted all the way up to the bedrooms, and only after Dally shut the door was it muffled. For a moment, Johnny and I were alone on the bed, him laying back and wishing aloud for a cigarette, and me shaking and staring straight ahead. I was still shaking when Dally came back, letting in the honky-tonk music for just a moment before he shut the door behind him, and my hand was clenched around something. I glanced down, grimacing when I saw what it was.
Dally was throwing Johnny a jacket, and then he followed my gaze down to my red-stained hand. Eyes widening, he swore aloud, grabbing my wrist and forcing me to drop the blade. "What the hell are you doing, carrying that around?" He snapped at me, incredulous as he held the blade up in front of me, so close I could see the dried blood in the dim room. I stared into his face, my eyes meeting his, and thought about drawing him. Dally was the most fun to draw when he was mad. He'd never seen one of my drawings of him. Maybe he'd think they were tuff. I made a mental note to show him…maybe. Or maybe he'd just give me one of those incredulous, disbelieving looks he gave me sometimes, like when I asked him if he'd ever read Gone with the Wind after Johnny and I went to see the movie.
"No, kid, I ain't never read Gone with the Wind." He'd told me, throwing in an adjective before the word 'wind,' changing the title's meaning considerably.
"Ponyboy!" I flinched, my head snapping to the side, and it took a second to realize that he'd hit me. "Hey, snap out of it!" I laughed aloud, unable to help the sound that bubbled out of me. He seemed to consider hitting me again.
"You know you're the third person to do that tonight? No…fourth. I think Randy hit me too." I told him, my voice too high pitched, almost hysterical and louder than it needed to be. I'd been hysterical with Jonny too. I supposed I just wasn't very good at this murder stuff. That thought made me laugh again, but the laugher died when I saw his expression.
"Keep that up and I'll make it five." He threatened, shaking me a little, then stopping when my breath caught, my hand going again to my side, my jaw clenching as I hunched over. I kept forgetting about that. Still, I wasn't about to tell him to stop, like I would anyone else. No one told Dally to do anything. "What's the matter with you?"
"They were kicking him." Johnny told him, filling him in on what had happened to me while he had been drowning.
"They broken?" He asked, gruff as ever, but a bit less violent now. At least he wasn't shaking me anymore.
"Don't know…I think so."
"You and me both, kid." He grumbled, this time touching my shoulder. It was almost comforting. "Why are you wet too?"
"Pony gave me the sweatshirt he was wearing…mine was soaked. That's the jacket I was wearing."
"Yeah? Great. Now you'll both catch pneumonia." He rolled his eyes. Still, I thought he seemed almost approving. Johnny was the only one he really cared about, and I'd saved his life. Maybe that counted for something. "Okay, here's what you're going to do. I got you guys some money, and here's a gun…" He handed it to Johnny, warning him not to point that thing at him, but I knew what he was going to say next. I thought I might throw up. Instead, I shook my head, cutting in when he started to bring up the church.
"I ain't running away." Both Johnny and Dally paused, staring at me.
"What?"
"I ain't running. I wanna go home." I told them, my eyes far off again as I thought of Sodapop, running to me in the hospital…he'd lost his girl and me both, and he'd been crying when he held me at the hospital. Or would be…or would have been. The timeline of this crap was starting to get confusing. I wanted my brothers. That's all I knew. "I wanna go home."
"Ponyboy, we…" Johnny started, speaking carefully, but I cut in.
"We didn't do anything." I told Johnny simply. He wasn't getting dragged into this. "I did it. I…" I swallowed hard, flinching a bit. "I killed him. I ain't dragging you down with me. Not you either, Dal."
"Those Socs are gonna tell the fuzz who stabbed their buddy, you know that right?" Dallas demanded. I nodded. It didn't matter. I wanted to tell them that. I wanted to tell them that I was just glad they were okay, but I had a feeling Dally might really hit me again.
"I'm gonna head home. Sorry to pull you away from your party, Dally." I told him quietly, managing to get upright, hunching over a little to keep pressure off my side. He shook his head, taking the Lord's name in vain and then doing it again with a few more adjectives thrown in. He usually didn't swear that much in front of us. Still, I knew if I tried it, he'd cuff me one good. For some reason, he cared that I not pick up his bad habits. Maybe Johnny wasn't the only one Dally cared about.
"Look, I'll give you kids a ride back to the house. Your big brother will bash my head in if he finds out I let you walk all the way back, and Johnny, it's too cold for you to sleep outside tonight. Let me go get a car."
I certainly wasn't about to argue. "Thanks Dal." He swore again on his way out, and Johnny and I listened to his voice as it faded out, getting lost in the racket they called music down there.
"Johnny?"
"Hm?"
"I'm sorry about what I said before…when we were walking with the girls and Two-Bit. He was right to hit me. That was real shitty and I didn't mean it. I was just…" I didn't want to say embarrassed, but it was the truth. I'd made myself look like a fool in front of some rich girls, and then I'd hurt my friend to make myself feel better.
"It's fine, Ponyboy. You were right, anyway." He told me again, almost sadly. I shook my head.
"No I wasn't. The gang always wants you around, Johnny. We wouldn't be a gang without you. We're your home…you're always wanted with us." He was silent, staring at me in surprise. That was a lot of emotional talking, even for me, so I shut up and waited for Dally to come get us. No way I was wandering around Buck's place looking for him. With my luck, one of Darry's old buddy's would see me, or someone would report back to Sodapop, and then I'd be in for it.
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.