Authors notes:

Hey you guys! I promised an update, didn't I? I've been learning to appreciate my fanfiction a lot more so I'm not going to be like "emo -.- this sux ass." Haha. Bright Eyes inspired. The song lyrics are Bad Blood. Good tune, good tune. There's a happy ending to this chapter and some RELIGION! I think Johnny would be a sexy Christian, don't you? Religion always makes for good angst, especially in slashy stories. This was a pain in the ass to finish and it's still not that long. My chapters like to be short but not TO short, I guess. Keep those comments coming, guys, they feed my motivation like small children to cannibals.

PS. The end kind of came out of nowhere, which is why it's so short. I could do more with it, but it's late and I'm tired and have school tomorrow!

No news, that's good news,

Someone's gonna break.

See things change, yeah I've been changing everything.

It's peaceful, the pitch black, when the last light on goes out.

I'm stranded in my bed, so I think about,

The bad luck, the bad blood,

That may have come between, two good souls.

Eight o'clock everyone had greeted the day.
It seemed early to Johnny but maybe that was because the past few weeks he'd been sleeping in 'till noon. Regardless, they had eggs for breakfast, which Johnny had volunteered to cook(it was one of the few things he could make without burning anything). The morning conversation consisted of discussions about the weather and how great it was to be out of school for vacation. Johnny smiled and tried to join in. He wasn't feeling all that talkative but talked anyway because he knew that his dark mood needed lifting, and what better way to lift a mood than a conversation with your family?

Yes, family. They were more family to him than his father and mother ever had been, ever. Even his brother, who had dissapeared into Nebraska, meant nothing near as much as Ponyboy, Soda, and Darry did to him. He couldn't help but feel something was wrong with that statement, but it was all too true. They were everything to him. As long as he had them, he didn't need anyone else.

Johnny was beginning to think the Cade family blood was bad, anyway. His mother had been a screeching waste of flesh, his father an angry and useless blob, his brother a selfish hypocrite, and he himself was, to put it simply, a cocaine-snorting hallucinating masochistic rail-thin emotional mess. His faults listed themselves in his mind and he considered each one; His introverted personality, his skin-and-bones figure, his eyes as black as the night sky...Pony sat across from him, watching the dark circles beneath his eyes. They seemed to be growing lately, and Johnny seemed to be getting paler. His once healthy brown glow had been fading and losing it's...well, it. Had he lost weight, too? He never saw Johnny eat more than a few bites of anything, but the boy always insisted he was perfectly fine and if Ponyboy didn't stop accusing him of being bullimic he'd have to kick him in the grapefruit.
"What about your parents?" He asked suddenly. Hey, it had to be on everyones minds. What was wrong with speaking up about it? Soda was watching them both curiously now, also having the desire to get to the bottom of the Cade-Arson Mystery.
Johnny looked up suddenly, the sleep gone from his black eyes. In a tone as emotionless as he could managed, he responded, "Well, what about them?" It was hard to say it so casually. He tried to act indifferent, but the thought of them brough so much back. He thought about his mother and father and the way they constantly fought. He thought about the dreams he had, when the acts would replay over and over again. He thought about his father, hands rough from work and beatings dancing down his back. He thought of the things he wished he had been able to say to them. He dreamed about what would have happened if Blanc had taken him with him when he had left...All these pictures clouded his mind and he tried to sort them out into words, but would he be saying to much?

There was a silence and he could feel three pairs of eyes staring at him. He blushed shyly, avoiding their eyes. He hated when people stared at him so expectantly. It made him feel vulnerable, naked before them, because he knew as well as anyone did that he had a hard time covering up a lie. He looked down at the remains of his mostly-eaten egg, stabbing it with the silver of his fork, over and over and over again. He gathered the courage after a moment to follow up in a low voice, "They're dead..."

"Any signs of who did it?" Soda asked, as curious as anyone else. He had planned to leave it to Johnny but if the subject was open he just wanted to know how things were progressing. Surely that detail wouldn't cause Johnny so much pain. "No," Johnny said, putting down his fork. He took the golden glass of orange juice into his hands, sighing as he looked down at it. "I'm not sure I'd want to know, really... I mean, the facts are that they're gone and knowing who set fire to the house won't change any of that." Compared to his usual silence, that had been a speech. He laughed weakly to himself, before adding, "I guess I should be thankin' them, anyways, huh?"
Pony frowned. His hair had grown out nicely, Johnny noticed suddenly, looking up from his drink. Locks of reddish-brown hair fell to his midneck, a length he worked hard to preserve. Looking into his eyes, such a stormy blue, Johnny could see the ocean. He could even feel the sand beneath his feet, feel the sun warming his skin. What beautiful, beautiful eyes. He wished his weren't so big and black, emotionless and soulless in their lack of color. There was silence for a split second before Johnny lifted the orange juice glass to his lips, taking a long sip. Silence settled in, but after a moment it became comfortable. There was the simple enjoyment of each others company, no conversation to spoil it(much like the way footsteps spoiled the winter blanket laid out over the world). To Johnny's suprise, he cracked a smile, a genuine one, when he caught sight of Ponyboy's eyes going over a sheet of paper. Probably a homework assignment or something, he was always so dedicated...

"What's that?" Sodapop asked for me. His golden eyes twinkled with curiosity, and Ponyboy grabbed the pencil that was hiding behind his ear. "This," He said, erasing something that Johnny couldn't see from his position, "Is a design for a snowfort."

There was a pause.

"A what?" I asked, actually confused. He tilted his head to the side as Pony struggled to explain it. "You know whenever it snows, Two-Bit always gets the wise idea to come at us with snowballs. He gets all prepared with like twenty and everything." Soda and Johnny exchanged an understanding glance and he nodded. It was true. Two-Bit seemed to live for two things; April Fools Day and Winter. This plan to build a snow fort was bound to pay off in the long run, because it didn't matter if you were indoors or outdoors Two-bit would find you and if you could protect yourself early you'd save yourself a lot of heart ache. There was a knock at the door and then a long creeeaaak as it inched open. The recognizable form of Steve looked heroic against the stark white of the environment, and he folded his arms over his chest with a smirk. "What are ya'll still doin' in here? It's snowin'!" They needed no further instruction; Soda was the first to leave, following his friend out into the cold(then he realized he forgot his coat and his boots and had to go back inside, but that's beside the point). Johnny left with Ponyboy, and they walked alongside one another, hands stuffed into the pockets of their jackets. To the park, where the snow was the thickest, where they could see all the future Greasers throwing snowballs and skating on the frozen roads. They walked for a few minutes like that, and Ponyboy turned with a smile to Johnny, who returned it.

He was still grinning when, out of nowhere, came the snowball. Right in the side of his face. Johnny's smile dissapeared and was replaced quickly with a look of shock. Pony supressed a snicker for as long as he could, but it was just so strange to see quiet, reserved Johnny Cade with a look of genuine, unbridled suprise on his face. He was not trying to hide his emotions, for once, and Pony appreciated that for what it was worth. Johnny put his hand to his cold cheek, playfully glaring in the direction it had come from - East - And saw Two-Bit and Dalls by a tree. Two-Bit was grabbing snow from the roots, making an army of snowballs. They had been to late. As Dallas threw the snowball he had been waiting to, Pony let the fort plan fall to the ground. A lot of use it would be now.

Bam. Right in the arm. Dally didn't have the best aim.

Dallas hadn't changed much in the years that Johnny knew him. He was still firey, still in a volcanic relationship with Sylvia, still the tuffest guy in Tulsa. Moreover, he was still Johnny's hero. His silver hair had fallen to his shoulders, and he had worked hard to maintain the length. Dally once reminded Johnny how 'girls loved long hair on guys', but he wasn't sure he believed him back then. Now, the words made sense. Women did love the hair, and the eyes - Those were the features Johnny had found most appealing to a woman, and those were the kind he wished he could fix. He wished his hair wasn't so greasy, that it would be smoother to the touch, that the bangs weren't so troublesome. He wished his eyes weren't so dark, that girls could actually see him beneath their darkness - Or anyone, for that matter. If eyes were the window to the soul, Johnny's was as dark as shadow.

"Well, look who's out!" Two-Bit grinned, making his way over to the group. His jolly tone of voice made Johnny smile against his will - Wasn't he supposed to be angry because of that whole 'cold ball of ice and snow being thrown at his head' thing? His thoughts were interrupted as his friend continued, "I was beginning to think you were a vampire, Johnny. We had a stake prepared and everythin'." He winked playfully and smiled that trademark smile of his. Johnny shook his head. "'M not a vampire," He muttered, and he felt himself shrink back into the boy he had been only two years ago. "I've just been spending a lot of time indoors, thinking about stuff." Two-Bit laughed a bit, throwing an arm around his shoulder like an over-affectionate Uncle. "Well, don't go thinkin'' too hard. You'll hurt yourself." In all of this conversation he had failed to notice Dallas watching him so close. He had been scanning him the whole time, mostly out of brotherly concern, but his eyes were locked now on his neck. "Since when did you go Christian on us?" The question was directed at his necklace, a white chain that dangled a small and equally white cross. It was something Johnny had taken to wearing often the past day or two - Religion had never been an important factor in his life but in these times he needed it. He had fallen asleep before the fire and when he woke up, lying in the grass of the lawn, it had been around his neck. The drugs that swam from his nose to his brain didn't let him remember, but he had guessed it had been his mothers. It looked a lot like one he remembered Blanc wearing, when he was younger, when things were still good.

"I've always been a Christian," Johnny admitted softly, his hands finding the necklace. He offered no further explanation, and he wasn't sure there was one. That story of him and the lawn seemed a little to out there to admit to people, but he was sure there was a God. As a baby in Mexico his grandmother had gotten him baptized, and he had thought nothing of it. Now, he appreciated it. When he was lying, dying in that hospital bed, afraid for his legs that he had thought were lost...

The rosary. His mother's rosary. He had made an unfair assumption that she had only been there to punish him, as she wandered like ink, black as night in clothes and eyes and hair, through the sterile white of the Hospital hallways. He remembered hearing her plead, "I'm his mother, I'm his mother!" And he had been bitter then, refusing her inside, although he wished more than anything he had not. Beneath all the drink and the bruises she was his mother, just as she had said... She had come back, crying and sober that evening, begging the nurse to give it to him. The nurse complied and he remembered holding the beads around his knuckles, hands shaking as he tried to calmly recite Hail Mary. He couldn't get past 'full of grace' without choking up. The nurses gave him strange looks, worried, and promised to keep him in their prayers as well. Praying, praying, praying...In his waking hours it was all he did. When his eyes closed he dreamt of Angels in the fire of the church, saving the children so he wouldn't have to get hurt like this. He dreamt he could walk. Back then, that had only been a dream. Now, he utilized both of his legs as perfectly as he could. An occasional limp, some medication, a dull ache below the kneecaps...Other than that, he was fine. Thank the Lord for that, at the least.
Now the rosary was burned. He had returned it to his mother once he had returned home, wheeling himself carefully into his bedroom. Publicity had come and gone in waves, and he had promised them nothing happened to him at home, he promised them that his family supported him fully, he promised the media that everything would be alright with his trial so long as he had his friends faith in him and his faith in the Lord. He wasn't sure how effective he had been back then, but Cherry Valence, Heavens bless her, had worked hard in collaboration with her cousin and Ponyboy, to get him off of the hook. For that, he was thankful, although she refused to speak to him again. 'I killed her boyfriend,' He mused sadly, 'How can I expect forgiveness?'

In public, people refused to look at him the same. At home, it only made things easier for his father. He was relieved that metal death trap was out of his life, but saddened more so at the loss of his rosary, that sweet reminant of his mother.
probably lying among the half-looted remains of his home, and he wondered if it would hurt to go back there. To see it again.

It took Two-Bit throwing another snowball to wake Johnny out of his daydream.

It had been a wonderful afternoon. Snowball fights followed by red noses were chased away with hot chocolate back at the Curtis household. Dally would never forget that evening. Johnny had been planning on going home, to see the damage, to take what the looters had not, but before that... He needed his friends. Especially Dally. It had been nine o'clock and Pony was just getting into bed. Darry had explained that Dally and Johnny could stay if they wanted, but they knew the rules by now. Quiet, calm, no sudden and loud noises unless somebody was getting hurt. There was warmth in the air and he had been humming Let it Snow into the gray of his cocoa mug, his third serving. He had sat next to Dallas on the floor, and they had gotten to talking about the number of marshmellows in their drinks when Johnny had put his down on the table. It had simply been to hot. Dally followed, placing his beside Johnny's, and had just watched him. His thoughts were racing a thousand miles a minute. Johnny was mesmerized by the snow still in his hair, the way his cheeks had turned pink from the cold, and how this was Dallas Winston infront of him. He was the coolest guy this side of the United States and he was dedicating time to him of all people.

Johnny had time to ponder all of this and yet Dally's cool eyes were still smoldering on him, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. Dallas had not expected what happened next, but Johnny had become bolder, and he had pounced. He had knocked Dallas right to the floor, laughing about how he couldn't watch him like that. He wasn't allowed to. It was freaking him out. And Dallas, never to be bested by a kid two years his junior, had rolled ontop of him and pinned him down. "Say Uncle," He demanded, but Johnny was laughing to much to say anything. His eyes had ignited with life for the first time in a long time. Dallas felt strangely sentimental and he would have cursed himself for it only Johnny didn't like it when he swore. That boy had a power over him, and he was to look after him. It was his purpose. It had to be. Dallas Winston knew he had never been good for anything except Johnny, because Johnny, for some odd reason, worshipped to ground he walked on. He admired him for him, for his cool demeanor, for his easy way with the girls. Not for the crimes. Johnny wasn't like the wannabe gangsters that admired his skill with a switchblade or the way he could walk into a room and turn the conversation cold.

And then he had said it. It had been so innocent, Dally hadn't known what to think of it. He had let it go with the innocence of a close friend, leaning down to him before rolling off. Johnny had closed his eyes and said, "I don't know where we'd be without you", meaning "I don't know where I'd be without you", meaning, "I need you". Dallas liked to feel needed and wanted. They drank the rest of their hot chocolate and the night melted away like marshmellows, slowly dispersing without notice. They fell asleep on the carpet, curled against the bottom of the couch. Johnny had rested his head tiredly on Dallas' chest and Dallas, too tired to argue the possible gayness of the position and to in love with Johnny and sleep at the moment to care, had fallen asleep first. Deep breaths, soothing him in a sleepy rhythem, sent him into sleep. He had not seen what was left of his house that evening, like he had so desperately wanted, but maybe Dallas could go with him in the morning. Maybe he wouldn't have to go alone.

For the first time in a long while, he had faith in leaving things the way they were. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all. He had never felt closer to the gang than he did at that moment, and that had to mean something, didn't it?