Update! Just so you know I actually have a working update schedule and this is usually updated after two of my AtU fics (seeing as this is the third fic I created in a certain amount of time) so when those two get updated expect an update on this. Basic disclaimer applies.

"... mmrgle." Ponyboy lifted his head from the kitchen table, feeling his glasses biting into his skin and after running a hand over his face to wipe away some stray saliva, he realized the wood had made an impression in his skin. Standing up, he winced at the pain in his back and head. Turning back to the table to see if the candle was still there, he reeled back with horror.

Bottles. Bottles everywhere, all that brown-tinted colour and they littered the table with the odd can thrown in there. All of them were completely empty and as he inspected his appearance in the reflection on the grandfather clock he found he sported a rather impressive beer-belly.

"Mo?" His voice echoed in the house and nobody responded. What the hell is going on? The words repeated themselves, a mantra that brought panic instead of relief as he raced through the house, looking through the rooms to find them all very messy and empty. The room he shared with Maureen was a complete wreck, with drawers falling out of the dresser and the mattress tilted off to the left side of the bed. "Iris? ... Audrey?"

Nothing. Silence. He even whistled for Shep and the dog didn't come bounding up the stairs, practically tripping over his ears. Feeling not only frustrated but scared as well, he wandered back down to the kitchen and found a note hastily done in Maureen's usually neat hand.

Ponyboy-

Can't take it. Won't raise Iris and Audrey in same environment as someone who can't move on. So sorry. Get help and we'll talk.

-Maureen

Lying underneath the note was an item that brought bile rising to his throat. Beer he had never drank deposited itself upon the tiles that covered the kitchen floor as he gazed in horror at the thing he remembered giving her so clearly. For a moment he just stared at the object, going over its every curve and angle with mounting sorrow and confusion.

Gold. Diamond-set... one diamond on top. He remembered presenting it to her in their shared apartment to avoid any crowd proposals. He remembered her refusal on the grounds that they barely knew each other and then he had proposed to her in the same place a year later, when they were both out of college, and she had accepted.

She had given him back the wedding ring. Ponyboy felt the lump in his throat build, and the uncomfortable prickle of tears. He had no idea what he had done, what had made him become this sort of person that drove his wife and children out of the house, but he needed to find out. It had something to do with the candles, and he could fix it.

He moved through his own vomit, not caring that the bottoms of his feet became covered in the bile, and stumbled to the phone that hung on the wall. Picking it up he hastily dialed the number he knew to be Johnny's house (he had no idea how that number had surfaced), and waited.

One ring. Two Rings. Three and I'll call Darry... I know that number...

"Yeah?" It was Hazel. If her voice hadn't been distinctly feminine her phone etiquette would have given it away within seconds.

"'S your dad home?"

There was a pause and then a sort of rustling followed by the voice of his friend. "This is Jonathan Cade."

"Johnny!"

"... who is this?" Suspicion. Ponyboy felt hurt that someone he had been so close to didn't seem to know who it was.

"It's Ponyboy."

Silence and then Johnny sucked in his breath. "Ponyboy. Right." His tone was clipped, stern, he was angry about something and Ponyboy knew that anger was somehow directed at him. "I thought I told you not to call here anymore."

"... what?" Disbelief.

There was muttering on the other end. Johnny wasn't speaking into the receiver and Ponyboy had no idea what was going on. After a few more minutes he heard another voice, higher and he felt his heart break.

"Izzat Maureen?!" His words were still slurred. That beer he had no memory of consuming; the same beer that had brought on the vomit he had stepped in to make it to the phone.

"Ponyboy, you're not supposed to call here anymore. I told you. If Maureen had to come back one more t—"

"She's gone t'yer house before?!"

Johnny sighed. "Are you drunk?"

A raised voice on the other end. Maureen. Ponyboy got the feeling that he would soon be seeing his more recently-consumed items either on his feet again, or on the wall and floor. "Nonono I'm... 'm just..."

"Just what?"

"... hungover, I guess."

Another sigh and Johnny lowered his voice. "Ponyboy. Maureen is really afraid you're gonna end up hurting someone; she came over here last night at two in the morning because you were waving one of the kitchen knives around in your bedroom. I know Darry's gone but you—"

This time Ponyboy did vomit and he heard noises of disgust from Johnny's side over his own retching. Putting a shaking hand to the wall he leaned lightly against it, pressed his forehead against the wallpaper that had the little diamonds on it. The one he and Maureen had picked out when they had first moved in. "D-Darry's gone?" He spluttered into the phone.

"Yeah, Pone. He's been dead three years."

"J-Johnny I c-can—"

"Get your act together, Pony. Maureen isn't going to come back until you fix—"

"JOH—"

"I'm gonna hang up now."

"JOHNNY THIS IS IMPORTANT!"

A dial tone on the other end that sent his mind reeling, and he became aware of more vomit that coated his jeans and dripped off his chin and onto his shirt. He didn't understand... he couldn't understand why Johnny had turned against him.

Ponyboy's hands were shaking so badly that it was almost impossible to dial the number for Steve's house. After a few rings there came a pleasant female voice on the other end.

"We're sorry, but your call has been blocked."

Dallas.

"We're sorry, but your call has been blocked."

Two-Bit.

"We're sorry, but your call has been blocked."

Soda's number... he didn't know Soda's number. The receiver remained next to his ear as he took a deep breath and started to dial Johnny's number again.

One ring. Two rings—

"Cade residence."

Johnny. He almost cried with relief. "Johnny, listen I need—"

"Ponyboy. Stop. Calling." His tone was demanding.

"No, no Johnny I-I fucked up..."

"Good've you to finally notice."

"Johnny please, I tried to save you, Soda and Dally but Steve died and—"

"Put down the phone, Pony." Johnny wasn't buying it. He wasn't taking any of it in and Ponyboy wanted to reach through the phone and shake his friend until he understood what was going on.

"JOHNNY, please listen! 'M messing with time here!"

Another dial tone.