A/N: Thanks for the reviews! As always they make my day! I made a few minor changes. I changed the year at the start of chapter one to 1969, as the book was set in 1965 which meant I was out by a year. The date Ponyboy has to leave I changed from the 12th of November to the 1st of November.

Here is Chapter Two. Enjoy!

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Chapter Two.

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Later that night, when the shit storm has died down, a thought comes to my mind. I've been drafted on the same day Johnny had died four years ago. Sure, I have a couple of weeks before I have to leave, but the letter arriving in the mail after returning from visiting Dally and Johnny's grave had been the last straw.

My emotions are fraught. I'm convinced I am cursed.

Somehow, that night, I manage to fall asleep, but it isn't restful. I'm running towards the old church in Windrixville. I don't know why, only I'm filled with a sudden desperation to find Johnny.

I know he's there, waiting … always waiting.

It's like he's never left.

I have to find him.

Johnny has all of the answers.

'Johnny,' I call, my voice carries on the wild wind. 'Johnny!'

It's always the same. I can't run fast enough, no matter how hard I try and I can feel the panic rising. I'm gonna lose him, just like I lose everyone I ever care about.

'Johnny!'

And it's … too much to bear. I can't stop it. I can't stop the loss … the sadness.

And then I find him; broken, bruised and burned. Can't be fixed. Nothing can be fixed. His dark dead eyes gaze upwards; lost and gone. Can't be found … never to be found … and then I'm screaming. I'm tearing at my hair, because nothin' is fair anymore, or, maybe life never has been.

I see my parents. Lost … long lost … no longer attainable, can't be reached. I see Sodapop trying to hold everything together. Both of us, holding each other, crying ourselves to sleep. And I'm trying to function, like any other normal teenage boy, only I'm not normal. I'll never be normal.

Then, much to my horror, it's not Johnny I'm holding but Soda. His empty eyes stare heaven bound and it's the last straw. This … it … can't be happening. The consuming grief washes over me, I weep … I don't think I'll ever stop … 'you have to come back, please, Soda, come back to me.'

I awake with a sudden start, gulping in deep breaths of air as my heart hammers in my chest. Soda stirs besides me.

"Ponyboy," he begins sleepily.

God, it's just a dream … thank god. My hand rests on my heart as I drink in the sight of him, perfectly safe and not dead.

I hear the worry in his voice.

"It's alright, go back to sleep," I tell him.

We don't normally share a bed anymore, just sometimes Soda sleeps with me if I'm upset, or if he's upset. And tonight we were both VERY upset. I shouldn't let him comfort me. It's not as if I can afford the luxury of Soda's reassurances for much longer.

I have to toughen up. I swallow the lump in my throat at the thought of leaving my brothers.

Last night flashes through my mind.

I bury my face in my hands. Shit. Shit. Shit.

The emotional fallout that followed was as bad as I feared it would be. Soda, holding me, and muttering, 'No … it's not happening … not you, Pony … can't be, you're not much more than a kid.' I could feel his tears fall onto the back of neck. It just made me cry even harder.

Darry continued to pace up and down, his face dark and angry; hurting too.

Two-Bit, swearing under his breath.

Steve, grimacing and as much as he doesn't like me, this is still somethin' you don't wish on anyone.

Then Soda said he was gonna join up too, and go with me. Then Darry wasn't happy about that, and then Steve said 'if Soda was gonna join then so would he,' and everyone was just arguing.

Among, all of this, Two-Bit had slung an arm across my shoulder and led me inside the house. Next thing I know he had shoved a beer in my hand and told me to drink it and so I had.

I practically sculled the whole can and it strangely sobered me up. Well, I at least came out of my daze.

"Shit," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "Bad enough I gotta go, I don't want Soda to go too."

Though the thought was secretly comforting, but what if something happened to him? What if I had to witness the death of my brother right before my eyes? I couldn't handle something like that.

"I'd already seen Johnny die," I stammered, tears welling in my eyes. "I don't wanna see Soda die."

I love Soda more than anyone in this life.

Two-Bit rested a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry, kid. Darry won't let him."

I nod, took a deep breath. "You got any smokes?"

Two-Bit handed me one and lit it for me. Through the orange glow of the cigarette I saw the concern in his eyes. "It'll be alright, Ponyboy." There is a strange resolve on his face that I can't ever remember seeing before.

The dream leaves me feeling deeply disturbed. No way is Soda going with me to Nam. Stuff Darry not letting him, I won't let him!

I rake a hand through my greasy hair. Glancing at my hand, I grimace.

"Won't have to worry about this once I'm in the Army," I mutter to myself. Soon, I'll barely have any hair. My hand shakes, and I feel strangely surreal.

It's as if I'm no longer in possession of my own body. I swallow the lump in my throat. Two weeks is all I have left of a normal life.

I think of Sally from work. The way she smiles shyly at me from the opposite desk. I notice the soft curve of her cheeks, the way her blue eyes dance and I know she likes me. I like her too. I like a lot of girls. Hell, girls are beginning to notice me a lot too.

Guess I kind of look more like Soda than I realised.

'Bulk up a bit kid, and you'll have all the girls after ya,' Two-Bit would often tell me, 'hell, then ya can leave the crumbs for me, just make sure you go for the blondes.'

'Yeah, right,' I snort back.

As much as I like girls, I've just never found that one girl yet. Sometimes I think I see her, a flash of long red hair out of the corner of my eyes; feisty and pretty. Someone who loves to watch sunsets and yep … maybe I need to really forget about Sherri Valance. I don't know why she left such a lasting impression on me. I've never found anyone else like her.

Not that it matters now. She's probably married to some good looking young guy from the right side of town. Maybe, she married a doctor, or a lawyer. She probably went to College, she was hell smart. Then I remember her words, 'I could fall in love with Dallas Winston.' Maybe she had found another Dallas Winston out there to fall in love with, though I couldn't see it.

None of it matters because I'm going to be taken from my family and taught how to kill people all in the name of so called justice – so help me god.

My whole body begins to shake. Soda has fallen back to sleep. I get up from the bed and head for the bathroom. Once in there, I splash my face with cold water. I stare back at my pale reflection.

It's beginning to sink in now – being drafted. Hell, boys as young as 15 fought in the civil war. Just, that seemed like a more honourable war than fighting with people in another country about politics that really have nothin' to do with us.

It's senseless. Everyone knew it, all these young men losing their lives for nothing. I eye my now mostly brown hair, which has darkened as I've aged, there's hardly any red left in it either, except in the sunlight. That was a good thing though, no one want's to have red hair. Then I laugh at the absurdity of it all, what the hell difference does it make?!

I won't be a greaser for much longer, probably have never really been one, and shortly I'll be a number in a system; a soldier.

Tearing my gaze away from the mirror, I shove my hands in my pockets. I really need a smoke and badly.

Leaving the bathroom, I head to the kitchen. I search for my pack of cigarettes, trying to remember where I left them. I finally find them and head out to the back porch.

It's three in the morning.

I'm surprised to see Darry there. Although, maybe I shouldn't be. He glances at me. I notice the dark circles under his eyes, the slightly grey sheen under his tan. He looks tired. I feel as if I done nothing but cause him grief since our parents had died. Which is why I went to work, so he could have a chance to follow his dreams.

I now numbly realise that if I'd gone to College, I wouldn't have been drafted into the Army. I can see Darry thinking the same thing. I shove my hands in my pockets.

"You should have gone to College, Ponyboy," he mutters and there it is.

It's uncanny how we sometimes can read each other so easily.

"You weren't to know."

He shakes his head. "I should have seen this coming."

I pull a cigarette out of the packet.

"I don't see how," I say, lighting the smoke and breathing in deeply.

There is regret and a sadness in his eyes. "You did your best, Darry," I reassure.

"Can't replace a parent," he murmurs, looking strangely defeated and I hate seeing him this way. "And you …" he gestures to the cigarette in my hand. "Never would have started smoking at just 13."

Mom and dad would have killed me if I'd taking up smoking then, I know it. Still probably wouldn't have stopped me though.

"I might have been 14 instead of 13," I say to lighten the mood. "C'mon Darry quit beating yourself up about it."

I get a faint glimmer of a smile, which is better than nothing.

"You know how stubborn I am," I continue. "You know how much I hate being told what to do."

His smile widens just a fraction.

"You sure are that."

I smile too and we sit back on the old beat up two seat sofa. Darry props his legs up on the porch railing. I take the moment to speak about what's bothering me the most.

"You won't let Soda follow me, will you Darry?"

"Don't know if I can stop him little brother."

"Hey, you know I'm nearly as tall as you," I shoot back. "I'm not little anymore."

"But still scrawny," Darry quips, teasingly.

He's right about that, normally this would end up in a play fight wrestling match, but both of us are far too tired for that.

I hear him sigh, he's worrying again.

"You have to eat healthy when you're away, Ponyboy. You'll need your energy and strength. You're already too thin. God knows what the food will be like during basic training, probably awful."

He rakes a hand through his hair. "You can't afford to get any skinnier."

"I'll be fine …" I begin but he doesn't appear to hear me.

"Mom and dad would skin me alive if they could see you now," he mutters. "I should have tried harder."

I hate it when he does this. It makes me feel lousy. I don't think I turned out that badly considering everything that I've been through. Hell, it's not as if Darry suddenly asked to play parent at just 20. I wish he'd quit blaming himself for everything that's wrong with me.

"I might have turned out even more screwed up than I already am if you had," I joke.

"Now ya beginning to sound like Two-Bit. He's a bad influence on you."

Darry doesn't mean it of course. We'd be lost without Two-Bit adding the humour to our lives. As it is, Two-Bit's almost as overly protective of me as my brothers are.

Darry throws an arm around me and I lean my head against his shoulder.

"If Soda goes to Nam he'll die." I don't mean to be the prophet of doom and gloom, just can't shake the dream.

"No one's going to Nam," Darry mutters gruffly. "Just because your drafted, Pony, doesn't mean you'll end up there."

I hate to tell him that 90 percent of guys without qualifications and from the poor end of town do end up in Vietnam, instead I choose not to say anything at all because I want to believe him.

It's gone past four in the morning when I return to bed. Soda stirs as I try my best to quietly not disturb him. "What'cha doing, Pony," he murmurs sleepily, "where ya been?"

"Just couldn't sleep," I reply as I lie down next to him.

He drapes an arm over my shoulder as I lie on my side. "You'll be fine, Pony. I won't let anything happen to you."

How I want to believe him.

"Of course," I reply, more for him than me.

I always did have to grow up too quickly. Losing your parents young, does that to a person.

When I wake up the next morning, I'm all alone in the bed. At first I don't know where I am or what's even happening and then, quite suddenly, the events of last night wash over me and I groan. I've been drafted into the Army. Life, as I knew it, was set to change in a really dramatic way.

I groan again and ran a hand through my hair. Surely it all has to be a bad dream.

Pushing the covers back, I stumble out of bed. I shoot a bleary eye to the clock, which reads 9.00am. I can hear voices conversing in the kitchen and I make my way there, knowing its Darry and Soda arguing, which is very rare.

Their voices waft down the corridor.

"I'm going," I hear Soda say. "You can't stop me, Darry. I'm not letting my little brother do this alone."

Oh, no … no … no …

I stumble into the kitchen. Darry glances my way. It takes Soda a second longer to realise I'm there. My stricken gaze meets his.

"No, Soda."

I never say no to him, so I can see this comes as a shock. He blinks, then I see the hurt in his eyes.

"Pony, you don't gotta do this on your own."

"Yeah I do," I return. "I ain't gonna watch you die in Nam because of me."

"Don't be silly … I won't …"

"You could," I interrupt. "I've already seen Johnny die, I can't go through that again, please … Soda," I implore.

Surely he has to understand this.

"You think I want to watch you die," he gets out in a hoarse voice. "You don't think what that'll do to me, Ponyboy? You think, I can sit back here, knowing you are out there risking your life every day?"

"You have to, Soda."

Tears fill his eyes.

"You don't want me there?"

God, I give anything to have him with me, all of the time but not at the cost of his life. I'm about to bawl and I don't want to. I've already cried enough.

"Of course," I choke, "But … I … Soda …"

"I don't want you to face this alone," he begins.

"He won't be alone," a voice speaks from the doorway and we all spin around.

Two-Bit stands there, a strange expression on his face.

"Ponyboy won't be alone because I've just joined the Army."

Silence fell. It's strange, we are all waiting for the pun that never comes.

"As of today, I've enlisted into the Army and I'll be joining Ponyboy on the 1st of November. We'll be catching that bus together and shoot but y'all look as if ya about to faint."

I blink and somehow find my voice. "You did what?"

Because Two-Bit is the last person I'd ever expect to join the Army. The longest he's ever held down a job is one week.

"Shit, kid. Don't 'cha know by now that where ever you go, I go?" He swallows quickly. "Ya think I'm gonna let you go off and have all the adventures and pick up the girls without me."

A slow grin crosses my face.

I know what this has cost him. How big a deal this is. I might have no choice, but Two-Bit has made this decision all on his own. I don't know what to say so I say the first thing that comes to mind.

"Sure, gonna be a blast."

And just like that, it's all settled. Soda doesn't say anything more, but I notice the look in his eyes; a resigned sadness and also hurt. It's almost as if he's kind of jealous that Two-Bit is going with me and not him. I say nothing of this to Soda, because I'm glad it's not him, because I could never handle losing Soda, and surely he has to see this; right?

This is for the best, not that I want to lose Two-Bit either, but Two-Bit is more robust than Soda and I kinda of know he'll be alright. Plus I don't have nightmares about him dying.

I see the relief on Darry's face. We share a resigned understanding. It's not ideal, but it is what it is and now I don't gotta do this all on my own. A gang always looks out for each other, that's just what we do.

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Hopefully I'm remaining true to character. Would love to know what people think. Did anyone guess that Two-Bit would go with Ponyboy?

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