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Calamanator (sorry for misspelled-ness)- I'm glad you like it and are apparently freaking out about it. Yes, you are correct with your guess. I'm taking requests from people who guess correctly, so please PM me!
Enjoy. I don't own anything.
The whisperings continued, and I pretended to still be knocked out.
"He was acting all-"
"Yeah, I know what you mean Steve." I heard a sniffle and my heart broke a little. I knew it was Ponyboy, because a second later, Soda's soothing voice said "It's ok Pony."
"Honestly, I've never respected the kid more." My heart swelled. Dally's voice was abundant with pride. "He was so brave and tuff..." No one objected.
"But that's not usual for Johnny." I decided to alert them to my presence.
"Thanks Darry." I mumbled. Six people immediately crowded around me, hands butterflying over my injuries, concerned voices asking questions.
"I don't mean that you aren't brave, you just are..."
"Really innocent and small?" I asked. I had an urge to tell them the truth, to prove that I wasn't as vulnerable as they thought I was.
"Well...yes."
"I taught you well, huh kid?" Two-Bit grinned.
"Oh yeah Two-Bit, you taught me everything I know about being innocent and small." Two-Bit chucked, but everyone else just exchanged worried glances.
I distinctly heard Steve whisper to Soda "Do you think it addled his brains?" I had to be careful. They were getting suspicious.
I moved to get up, and the gang gasped. "Johnny! Stay down! It's going to kill to stand up." I raised my eyebrows at Darry.
"Do you want me to go to the bathroom on your couch?"
"We can help you." I let out a bark of laugher, and easily swung myself off of the couch.
"I'll be fine. If you hear a thud in the bathroom, you can look in, but I don't think it will come to that."
I was really pushing the line here. I wasn't acting like the carefully concocted persona that I had created after leaving the Gunners, changing my name and identity.
I should have just let them take care of me, but being this vulnerable was bringing back old habits.
I splashed some water on my face and inspected my injuries. All of the big stuff, like the bullet wound and a couple of knife slashes, were bandaged, but my face still looked like it had been through a blender.
I cursed Bob quietly. I took a deep breath, and began to have one of those annoying conversations with that voice in my head.
Ok. You need to go back out there, and put back on your mask. Kicked puppy, kicked puppy, kicked-
"Johnny." there was a thud on the door.
"Yes?" My voice still sounded a little irritable.
"We need to take you to the hospital. We were waiting for a cab, so please get int he car."
"No thanks Soda."
"Let me rephrase that. Get in the car now."
"Let me rephrase that." Control the sassiness I reprimanded myself, but I basically had no control over what I said. Ok, I had a little bit, but I wanted to say it. "I'm not getting in the car Soda, I don't need the hospital, and please go tell the cab 'thanks, but no thanks.'"
There was a moment of a very heavy silence. "Um...Johnny, did...you get hit in the head?"
I sighed, drying my face, and came out of the bathroom. "No, I'm fine. That's the point. I don't need the hospital."
"You look like Shit." Dally said bluntly.
"When don't I look like shit?" I muttered, and Steve laughed, amazed at my new attitude. I really had to tone it down.
I walked to the yellow cab, and Soda followed me in relief. "Thanks, here's 20 dollars for your trouble, but I don't need a ride." I intoned to the cab driver. He nodded, and took the money, spraying Soda in dust as he left.
I went back inside and sat delicately on the couch, trying to imitate the character I had been playing for almost...maybe four or five years.
Everyone was staring at me, making me uncomfortable. I sighed, and jumped to my feet. Dally looked impressed at how I was "living through the pain" as he would call it.
"I'm gonna go home." I listened to the whole spiel of 'you are home Johnny' patiently, then began to walk out to door anyway.
"Johnny, you're just gonna get beat up." Dally finally said honestly. Then I said something really stupid.
"I think I can take him." There was deadly silence, then a hand landed on my shoulder.
"You couldn't take those Socs. Those were kids just having fun with no motive. This is a grown man whose goal in life is to make your life miserable and will do whatever it takes to make you hurt. You can't take him."
"I couldn't take those Socs because they had a gun. I'm sorry, I haven't quite mastered the technique of catching a bullet in my teeth. I'll work on that. At home." I pushed past him in an uncharacteristically forceful way.
Sure enough, when I arrived home, my uncle was drunk, and ready to fight. That's ok, I was sober and ready to fight.
And I had been in a hundred times more fights than this mad ever had and won two hundred times more of them.
He threw a punch, but I wasn't in the mood to get beat up, so I kicked him in the jaw gently, hoping I didn't kill him.
Unfortunately, I did kick him hard enough to knock him out. Damn. I could have done with a nice fight. Haven't been in a fair one in forever.
I stomped up to my room, not really caring if I woke my mother from her beauty sleep. (no amount of sleep could fix her appearance.)
I slumped onto my bed, suddenly tired as hell. I heard a clunk on my window and looked down to see a figure throwing stones at my window.
If this were a romance, it would be someone really attractive, and I would jump into their arms (no, that does not sound manly...or safe) but it was just Bob Sheldon.
Ugh. I jumped, cat-like from my roof to the ground, landing on one of my bruises, but barely registering the pain.
"Hello Bob. What are you doing here?" My voice was nonchalant, but my heart was dancing a frantic tattoo in my chest. Not that I was scared of Bob. Not at all. I was more scared of what I could do to him. Of what I wanted to do to him.
supress. Don't feel these things. Don't cave to temptation.
"I just want to talk to you." He leered.
I had never wanted to kill someone more.
