A new chapter!
Sorry for updating late! I was busy the past few weekends. Ha, don't you hate it when you really like an author, but they actually have a social life? XD I know I do.
Whoa . . . 30 reviews for 2 chapters. You guys really know how to spoil a girl! Thank you all for everything!
Now, story time!
Toss, turn, toss, turn. The pattern was predictable and, most of all, tiring. Ponyboy fitfully rolled around in his sleep, his movements seeming to know no bounds. Soda had not yet been awoken by this, which was a miraculous feat all by itself.
Soon enough, Ponyboy awoke with a shrill shriek, causing Soda to almost fall off the bed in terror and shock. The blonde greaser immediately flipped himself over to face his younger brother, and saw Ponyboy trying to conceal his sobs with a pillow.
"Honey, what's wrong?" asked Soda solicitously, his expression sketched with concern. He gently pulled Ponyboy closer to him, attempting to put his arms around the petite teen. Ponyboy practically leaped into Soda's open arms, clutching onto the other greaser with all the might he could muster. He buried his head in his elder brother's chest, bawling.
"What's going on here?" Darry's body appeared by the doorway, holding his arms up threateningly as if expecting a criminal lurking inside. He instantly dropped his muscled arms to his sides at the heart-breaking scene.
Sodapop glanced up at his elder brother momentarily and shrugged, but quickly reverted his eyes back to Ponyboy, trying to appease him with soothing words and gestures. Some of it worked, but for the most part, Pony was still frightened out of his mind from the nightmare.
"Ponyboy, calm down," Darry said, taking a seat on the bed next to his two brothers. Darry watched the scene with sad eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. As far as the brunette could see, it always seemed like Ponyboy would only have eyes for Sodapop, never for his oldest brother. And as for Soda . . . no one could mess with his little brother. No one.
"Another nightmare, huh, sweetie?" asked Soda when Pony had calmed down a considerable amount. Ponyboy hiccupped, nodding sleepily against Sodapop's chest. The blonde's eyes shone with so much love for the green-eyed teen as he cradled him tenderly and gingerly.
Soda didn't bother to ask Ponyboy what his nightmare was about and neither did Darry. They both knew that Pony was still fragile and sore over it now, so the best thing to do would be to discuss it in the morning.
As both of them watched the almost red head drift off to sleep, Soda turned to Darry and said, "Dar, what's going on with Pone? He's been actin' kinda weird lately, and now the nightmares are startin' to pop up again . . . This is the worst I've seen him in months; he almost never cries, never mind sob, from nightmares."
Darry exhaled loudly, his eyes trained on Ponyboy's tear streaked face. "I don't know, little buddy. We'll talk to him in the mornin' and find out. Just try to go to sleep for now. I'll see you in a few hours." With that, Darry stood up from the bed and started in the direction of his own bedroom.
Soda watched Ponyboy's reposing form and began to comb his fingers through his younger brother's tangled mat of hair. Whatever was going on with Ponyboy, Soda will fix it. 'Cause that's what big brothers do: help and protect the younger siblings.
And Soda'll be damned if he fails.
"Ponyboy, time to get up, kiddo!" Ponyboy heard a voice call out, being stirred awake by it. He groaned loudly, not at all enthusiastic about waking up, even if it was the weekend. The green-eyed teen grabbed his pillow and put it over his face, determined to go back to sleep.
"Ponyboy," the stern, low voice of Darry's came from nearby, "get up. Soda and I wanna talk to you before we go to work." Then Pony heard Darry stomping away, presumably to the kitchen.
The almost red head winced and then sat up in bed. He knew what this discussion would be about: his nightmare from last night. Ponyboy shivered as he recalled it. That was one heck of an awful dream; he was absolutely terrified from it.
As slowly as he could, Pony stood up and stretched, and then lethargically walked over to the dresser to retrieve some clothes (a green tank top and short shorts, it was so boiling outside that you could fry an egg on the sidewalk!).
After Ponyboy finished tidying himself, he walked into the kitchen to see Steve, Darry, Two-Bit, Johnny, and Soda huddled around the table. They all turned to look at him, many of their expressions shocked. Ponyboy looked down as he felt their eyes analyze him.
"No. Absolutely not. Go change right now," Darry said immediately when he laid his eyes upon Ponyboy. He eyed Pony's outfit with skepticism, observing all minor and major flaws of it.
"But Darry, it's blisterin' out there," Ponyboy whined. He also pouted, his face turning red as he looked away, abashed. It was bad enough that Darry would tell him things like this with only Soda in the room, but in front of the gang? It seemed like Darry wanted him to die of embarrassment.
"Kid, you best be listenin' to your big brother," retorted Steve, who was staring at Ponyboy like he just announced that he was Abraham Lincoln. "Don't wanna get kidnapped, do you?"
Ponyboy shot Steve a nasty look, which the other greaser gladly returned. Steve knew exactly how to annoy the green-gray eyed teen. Unfortunately, he also knew that merely mentioning the words 'Ponyboy' and 'kidnapping' (or something similar) in the same sentence made Soda and Darry as nervous as heck.
And that's just what happened.
Darry tensed, his eyes having gone cold, while Soda almost choked on his sliver of chocolate cake. Ponyboy glared at Steve as said man cheekily smirked back. Oh, boy, how Pony hated the tall and lean greaser right now. Why couldn't have Steve been born less observant or, rather, been born without being so discordant against Pony all the time?
"Ponyboy, go put on some sweats and a hoodie. I don't care if it's higher than 90 degrees out there, just do it," commanded Darry very seriously, his face hardened and his body stiff. He had just realized that if Pony went out in an outfit like that, it would be even more surprising if he wasn't groped, or molested, or kidnapped, or whatever else freaks did to someone's 15 year old baby brother.
The youngest of the gang gaped at his eldest brother in awe. That was extremely strict, even for Darry. The rest of the gang (minus Steve and Dally, and the latter he hasn't seen since Thursday) jumped to Pony's defense.
"Superman, you can't be serious. The poor kid'll die from the heat!" exclaimed Two-Bit, his eyes wide. He didn't necessarily want Ponyboy to wear this, but if he wears what Darry wants him to, he'll die from all of this humidity!
"Yeah, I agree with Two-Bit. 'Sides, if me and Two-Bit go wherever Ponyboy goes, he'll be okay," Johnny said quietly. Pony was thrilled to see him. He hadn't seen the dark teen for a couple of days and had wondered where he had been. Ponyboy (sadly) spotted a few marks and bruises on him that weren't there earlier.
Darry sighed, his eyes scanning Ponyboy's outfit once more. " . . . Fine," he complied, not being able to withstand the power of Johnny's reasonability, Ponyboy's pouting and whining, and Two-Bit's exaggeration all at once. "You stick around with the gang if you go anywhere. Never go off by your lonesome for one second. You dig?" asked Darry, looking directly at his youngest brother.
Ponyboy nodded enthusiastically, elated by the fact that Darry and Soda (mainly Darry, though) had capitulated this quickly about his clothing. He stuck out his tongue at Steve, who in turn looked at Pony with disdain.
However, Ponyboy wasn't let off the hook just yet. Soda and Darry rapidly shared a concerned look, both having qualms about Ponyboy going out dressed like this.
"Ponyboy, we need to talk . . . alone," emphasized Darry when he saw no one move from their spots. Johnny and Steve evacuated the room, but one particularly indolent greaser made no signs of ever leaving. However, when Darry sent one glare in Two-Bit's direction, said nineteen year old ran out like the house was on fire.
Soda chuckled at the scene, and it was hard for Ponyboy not to let out a grin, even if he knew for sure they were about to discuss his current nightmare.
"So, Pony," Sodapop drawled on, and Ponyboy wished he'd hurry up and get this over with. All three of them knew what this was about, "you've been actin' real strange lately . . . mind tellin' us what's it about?"
Ponyboy blinked, not expecting this question. They weren't going to talk about his nightmare? Hmm, maybe all of them didn't know what this was about . . .
"I ain't got any idea what you're talkin' about," smoothly lied Ponyboy, staring at the plate in front of him. His lying skills seemed plausible enough for himself, but he didn't see Soda and Darry share another look, both of them silently asking each other what to do now.
". . . Okay, but if somethin' is wrong, you know you can always tell me and Soda," said Darry, his ice blue-green eyes meeting Ponyboy's own green-gray ones. Ponyboy nodded swiftly and then glanced back down at his plate, bored and a little bit jittery from this tedious conversation.
The two eldest Curtis brothers frowned at the display, Soda furrowing his eyebrows as Darry scrutinized Ponyboy. Soda gave Darry an uneasy look, both of them thinking the same thing: What was wrong with their usually saucy younger brother?
Sadly, for the pair, they had to go to work soon if they didn't want to be late. Soda gave Ponyboy a sloppy kiss on the cheek before bounding out the door, running into Steve (which had started a playful wrestling match). Darry leant down by his youngest brother, Ponyboy still having to stand on his tippy toes to give his eldest brother a short kiss on the cheek.
"I'll see y'all later!" shouted Ponyboy from the front door, watching as Steve and his brothers got into Darry's truck (Steve had finally fixed it up yesterday after Darry had angrily inquired about it).
"Bye!" Soda's head popped out from the window, waving rapidly as the truck rolled out of the driveway. Ponyboy waved back, snickering slightly when he heard Darry yell at Soda to stick his head back in.
He stood there, just watching the car drive away as he listened to the sounds of Steve's and Soda's banter along with Darry's booming voice scolding them. Pony rolled his eyes, still not believing this happened daily.
"So what do you kiddos wanna do?" asked Two-Bit, leaning against the gate in a bored manner. He yawned once, blinking away sleep from his eyes. The jokester had just woken up about half an hour ago, and he did not like to be awake early in the morning. Especially on a weekend.
Ponyboy huffed, putting his hands on his hips. "I'm no kid, Two-Bit. I'm fifteen years old, for Pete's sake, and Johnny will be eighteen in a couple of months!"
Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow and smirked, now in the mood to tease the youngest gang member. But then he remembered his promise, and, as much fun it would be to upset Pony, said greaser would eventually reach a breaking point (running away or bursting into tears), and a hormonal, teenaged Ponyboy was not fun when he was crying or gone. Plus, Darry and Soda would pulverize him if either repercussions happened.
So Two-Bit decided that staying quiet was the best way to go at it.
"Hey, Two-Bit! Hello? Did you hear me?" A pause with more continued silence. "Fine then, be that way. C'mon, Johnny, let's go back into the house; Two-Bit's not fun when he's dumb and deaf." Ponyboy smiled slyly at the rusty-haired greaser before skipping inside.
Two-Bit stood there, taking a moment to realize what Pony had said. He then sprinted into the small house, found Ponyboy, and leaped onto the slender teen, tickling him mercilessly.
"Say Uncle!" yelled Two-Bit over Ponyboy's giggles and shrieks, grinning widely like a Cheshire cat. He continued to run his fingers up and down the teen's sides. He didn't stop at all, even though Ponyboy would swat at him.
"Uncle, Uncle!" Ponyboy cried out, still giggling crazily. He pushed the stocky man off him, laying a hand over his stomach. He felt like he had busted a gut, which was most definitely not a pleasant feeling.
Johnny stood by the doorway, smiling shyly at the rather amusing and affectionate display. Golly, it was absolutely adorable how Two-Bit and Ponyboy would interact with one another – although it seemed that neither knew how cute it was.
Two-Bit grinned mirthfully, sticking out his tongue at the youngest gang member. He then turned a bit more serious and said, "What do y'all really wanna do? 'Cause if we're stayin' here, I'm gonna sleep some more."
"I wanna see that new Paul Newman movie real bad!" replied Ponyboy jubilantly, looking up at Johnny and Two-Bit with excitement. He bounced up and down for a few seconds before realizing only little kids and Soda did that.
Two-Bit shrugged apathetically, not at all caring if they went or not. He then looked up at Johnny questioningly and asked, "That alright with you, Johnnycake?"
Said dark-haired greaser nodded in response and glanced at Ponyboy, who couldn't seem to be any more happier with his brightly lit eyes and his ecstatic grin. Johnny smiled faintly, happy to see his buddy so eager.
"Let's go later, when it's darker," Two-Bit said, which made Ponyboy's grin falter a bit. Pony still seemed very joyful, though, reminding himself that he'll see it anyway. They were only going that late to the Nightly Double because none of them had any money to spare (or wanted to pay).
The rest of the morning and afternoon was rather uneventful, actually. Two-Bit, true to his word, slept not only the rest of the morning, but the whole afternoon as well. Because of that, Ponyboy and Johnny had had to find other ways to entertain themselves. They had played poker, played various other card games, watched Mickey, read, and they had played a few games of checkers out of sheer boredom. Ponyboy had really hoped that Dally would walk through the front door, but no such luck. It seemed to Ponyboy that Dally was avoiding them, as strange as that sounded, but he had no logical reason why that could be.
"Johnny, do you think it's dark enough to go out now?" asked Ponyboy impatiently for the umpteenth time. He really wanted to see this movie, and his patience was wearing thin on him.
Johnny sighed, having faced this question many, many times from the same person. "Yeah, looks good enough. Let's go wake up Two-Bit." The two headed to where the still comatose man was on the couch, trying to arouse him from sleep with loud words and shaking motions. However, nothing worked. Two-Bit was, simply put, out like a light. No chance of waking him up now.
"What now?" Ponyboy asked, very irritated and vexed by this change of plans. He put his arms on his hips sassily, frowning deeply at Two-Bit. "I mean, he's definitely not gonna wake up."
"Maybe we should see the movie tomorrow," suggested Johnny harmlessly, but when he saw the beyond horrified look on Pony's face, he quickly added, "or not."
Ponyboy sighed, relieved. "Whew, you really had me worried there for a second, Johnny. Thought you'd said the impossible. Anyways, let's just leave a note for him and the rest of the gang and go."
Johnny studied Ponyboy's expression, hesitant. Darry and Soda would have a cow if Pony snuck out now, but on the other hand, it looked like Ponyboy would start whining and pouting about not going, and he may actually resort to crying if desperate enough. He wasn't sure which situation was worse.
"Please, please, please, Johnnycake! I'll be your best buddy," said Ponyboy in an overly sweet and sugary voice. He was pouting, opening up his green eyes in an attempt to make them bigger. Johnny looked away, but it was too late. He had seen the Ponyboy Michael Curtis pout.
"Fine, let's get a move on. But if Soda and Darry start going after me for lettin' you go now, I'll tell 'em who had smashed Darry's prized football trophy and who had put that whoopee cushion underneath Soda while he was on his date!" Johnny tried his hardest to put on a poker face, but a bit of a smirk peeked through.
Ponyboy gasped, aghast by Johnny's threats. "You know that I had knocked over Darry's trophy by accident, and that Two-Bit had told me to leave that whoopee cushion there!" he retaliated back, crossing his arms over his chest.
"And who do you think they'd believe? The out-of-control, over-emotional teenager or the sensible, young adult?" asked Johnny in a rather smug tone for himself, smirking some more.
"You ain't a young adult nor are you that kid from a year back," Ponyboy grumbled under his breath, frowning. It was true, while Johnny had recovered from his Soc attack, became more open, and had a dramatic growth spurt (Ponyboy was only up to Johnny's nose, in comparison to having been almost the same height a year back!); he had not exactly turned into a mature, young adult yet.
Johnny ignored Ponyboy's comment, instead concentrating on finding a piece of paper and a pencil. He found some blank sheets of paper by the counter and had found a pencil below Darry's armchair. The dark-haired teen handed them to Pony, who immediately began to write where they were going and when they'd be back. He placed the note on the kitchen table and then headed out the front door with Johnny.
The duo had just about arrived at the Nightly Double before Ponyboy noticed that he had forgotten his jacket. Johnny had persistently offered his, but Pony had denied it, saying it still wasn't that cold yet.
"So what's this movie about?" asked Johnny when the two had sneaked over the fence and settled into some seats.
Ponyboy shrugged carelessly, which caused Johnny to stare at him questioningly and skeptically. "What?" Ponyboy asked, a bit annoyed by the look he was receiving.
". . . You don't got any idea what this movie's about, and the only reason you came to see it was 'cause of Paul Newman," said Johnny very slowly, his eyebrow raised in a manner like Two-Bit's.
"Yeah," said Pony absent-mindedly, not really paying attention to the conversation as he tried his hardest to watch the screen. Johnny chuckled under his breath before fixing his gaze on the movie.
They sat like that for a while, just contentedly watching the film, until Ponyboy had gotten out of his seat and told Johnny that he had to go to the restroom. The tanned teen nodded distractedly, his concentration fully absorbed in the flick. Pony rolled his eyes, walking off to his destination.
After Ponyboy was done with his business, he turned the tap on the sink and began lathering his hands with the lemon-scented bar of soap. Unfortunately, the water was so loud that he hadn't heard one of the stalls creak open.
"Well, well, well, what do I see here? A little pony a bit too far from his territory." At the sound of the too familiar voice, Ponyboy immediately spun around to find himself face to face with a Soc.
The Soc leered at him, running his lust-filled eyes up and down Ponyboy's body longingly. Ponyboy inadvertently shivered and wrapped his arms across his chest protectively. This Soc . . . was way too familiar. And then it hit him. This man was one of the ones who would harass him from the car!
"You are one hot greaser, baby. You're just beggin' for it with an outfit like that." The Soc wolf whistled, getting closer and closer to Ponyboy. The younger teen didn't know or want to know what 'it' meant, but he backed up, regardless.
Ponyboy hit the sink, and that was the moment when the Soc got all up in his face, slithering his arms around him tightly and uncomfortably. The greaser gasped and tried to push and shove the elder man off him, but to no avail.
The Soc chuckled darkly and said, "That won't help you even a bit." Then, he plundered Ponyboy's mouth, his tongue forcefully making it in as his hands roamed all over his victim's lithe body.
For Ponyboy, this was absolute torture. He fought back continuously, but he soon realized that none of this would help him this time. His only hope for rescue would be if Johnny or some other kind soul would walk into the bathroom and help him out.
However, that didn't happen. The Soc's hands wandered lower and lower, one hand lecherously resting on his bottom as the other meandered down his body. And then the unthinkable for Pony happened.
The Soc began to unbutton his own shorts.
Ponyboy's eyes widened impossibly huge at that, staring in horror at this man. He . . . he could get raped now. The thought had never even once struck Ponyboy (he always thought that this only occurred to girls), and now it was flabbergasting to him. He felt nauseous instantly, so he did the one thing that he couldn't even control.
He spilled just about everything from his guts onto the Soc.
"You fuckin' bitch!" The Soc yelled vehemently, staring at his shirt in horror. He had jumped back about a foot the moment the bile had touched him. He grabbed a paper towel, Ponyboy completely forgotten, as he hurriedly attempted to wipe off the vomit.
Ponyboy wasted no time getting the hell out of there. He sprinted, running a million times faster than any track race he'd ever been in, and ran head first into Johnny.
"Ponyboy?" Johnny asked confusedly, rubbing his head in agony. A new bump would form for sure. "What're you doing? You were in that bathroom for a real long time."
The younger teen in question paled at the words and, not having an ounce of control over this, began to bawl. The noisy cry startled Johnny and he immediately looked at Ponyboy with concern, his big black eyes softening.
"Pony, what's wrong?" asked Johnny considerably, reaching out to rub Ponyboy's back comfortingly. Ponyboy abruptly flinched the second that Johnny's hand had touched him, which made Johnny look at him with such surprise and shock.
"I wanna go home, Johnny. I just really wanna go home," Ponyboy said extremely quietly, looking more skittish and bewildered than Johnny's ever seen him before. It broke the older teen's heart.
Johnny nodded and handed the younger greaser his jacket without saying anything. Ponyboy took it, mumbling a 'thank you.' The two headed home, not talking at all. During the walk, Johnny meticulously studied Pony's behavior, noticing that Ponyboy's face, although stained and still streaming with tears, was now completely devoid of emotion. He would sniffle occasionally and he kept his arms crossed securely over his chest at all times. This worried the tanned teen more than the sobbing.
When the duo were almost in full view of the Curtis house, that was when Johnny decided he would try to gather any information from Ponyboy about what had freaked him out so badly.
"Pony?" Johnny asked hesitantly in a gentle manner. Ponyboy looked up at him, his eyes half-lidded and sad-looking. "Can you please tell me what happened?"
Ponyboy shook his head rapidly, his eyes big and now filled with fear. Where the fear was coming from, Johnny had absolutely no idea. He wondered if Pony had gotten jumped, but then he noted that there were no visible marks or bruises on him. So what was the problem?
"Ponyboy, please, please, tell me. I swear I won't tell a soul," begged Johnny, using the most highest and pleading tone he had. But Ponyboy's mouth remained clamped, shaking his head in disapproval once more.
"You're scarin' me, Pony," said Johnny honestly, trying to use guilt to work it out of Ponyboy. Usually, this method would work, but now, Ponyboy said absolutely nothing. In fact, he didn't even make any signs of ever hearing what Johnny had said. This really was scaring Johnny.
"Ponyboy," Johnny demanded in a stern tone. His voice wasn't too rough, but terror still showed through Pony's eyes. He began to silently cry, still refusing to speak. Johnny felt horrible as he watched the tears stream down Pony's face (Note to self: stern tactic doesn't work with Ponyboy, thought Johnny).
Johnny's facial features softened and he stopped walking, his plan backfiring and having gotten himself guilty instead. "I'm so sorry, Pony. I won't ask you anymore, okay? You wanna hug?"
At the word 'hug,' Ponyboy nodded, latching onto Johnny and squeezing him tightly. He cried and sobbed for a good ten minutes before he calmed down, handing Johnny back his jacket after he complained that he wasn't cold anymore. And then, he felt oddly more so at peace. However, he still couldn't admit to anyone what had happened to him. He just couldn't. It was too embarrassing and awful to ever tell.
They walked some more, Ponyboy's sniffling and tears gone, only his blood-shot eyes evidence that he'd ever been crying. And Pony was glad for that. At least he wouldn't have to explain more to his brothers and the rest of the gang.
Oh, God, the gang. What would he tell them? Well, he wouldn't tell them anything. If they asked, he'd tell them nothing happened, except maybe that the movie was a little more emotional than he'd expected (hence his red eyes). There was no doubt that Darry would be furious, with Two-Bit probably angry at them for ditching him. Oh well, Two-Bit was usually mad for about two seconds and then he was back to his happy self.
"I can't believe you two just left like that!" shouted a furious Darry the moment Ponyboy and Johnny had entered the house. Ponyboy cringed at the tone, but Darry, in all his anger, hadn't noticed it.
"We left a note," said a very quiet and now timid Johnny, wrapping an arm around Pony's shoulders in a comforting manner. He looked up at Darry with a rather piercing gaze for his shy tone.
"Still, you two should always go with-" Darry suddenly stopped mid-sentence, staring at Ponyboy. His body went rigid and his eyes were icy. "Ponyboy, have you been wearin' that since you went out?" he asked in a strangely cold and steady tone.
Ponyboy nodded very slowly, and as he did so, Darry's face turned into such an unnatural shade of red that it was astounding to watch. "WHAT?" exploded Darry, his fists clenched to his sides.
At the tone, Ponyboy's eyes began to water and he cowered, which hadn't gone unnoticed by both Sodapop (who had been eerily quiet the whole time) and Johnny. He buried his head in Johnny's chest, stifling a cry.
Darry deflated, finally seeing how upset Pony was, at the same time Soda ran over to his younger brother and took him in his arms, embracing and coddling him. Two-Bit and Steve shared a nervous and confused look, both not knowing what was going on.
"Oh, my precious sweetie, what happened?" asked a very sympathetic and tender Soda, cradling Ponyboy in his arms like a baby. Ponyboy shook his head, the tears overflowing from his eyes. It was too painful to relive.
"I wanna go to bed," whimpered Pony, wiping his eyes hurriedly. It was bad enough crying in front of his brothers, but in front of Two-Bit and Steve (especially the latter)? Ponyboy was having an awful week. He's just been crying the whole time.
Soda nodded, his protective big brother instinct kicked into full gear. He picked Ponyboy up rather easily and walked over to their room, leaving a baffled Darry, a serious Two-Bit, a stupefied Steve, and an incredibly concerned Johnny in the living room.
He laid Ponyboy on the bed, gently removing a few tears with his hands. Soda got into bed with the green-eyed teen, but before he did so, he gave Ponyboy his pajamas. As Pony put them on, he sniffled occasionally. His elder brother then snuggled him to his chest after he was done.
"Love you, Soda."
"Love you, too, Ponyboy."
And cue the falling asleep.