*I don't own The Outsiders.
A couple weeks after Ponyboy is placed back under Darry's care.
Warning: Cursing and some descriptions of wounds. Italics= inside Ponyboy's mind
(Third Person POV)
Shadows danced around the walls and made old wooden furniture look like creatures from a cheap horror flick down at the movie house. The moonlight streamed through the dirty cracked window of the basement, the only source of light besides the small beam of yellow glowing from the crack at the bottom of the basement door.
Mr. Lucas had left the hall light on. No doubt, without Robin or Ponyboy upstairs to blame, Mrs. Lucas would have to take the heat. Pony knew that Robin's heart clenched at the thought of Mrs. L.'s "punishments." The poor woman was broken in so many ways.
Robin saw herself when she saw Mrs. L.'s broken expression. She remembered looking at her shattered self everyday for years; it had taken her a long time to suture her heart back together. No one had been there for her, at first that made her bitter. But, now all she wanted to do was help Mrs. L. because she understood what it was like to be alone.
Robin could help her.
Ponyboy understood Robin more than she gave him credit. The small teen knew what Robin was looking at when she saw Mrs. L., that's why he stayed. He couldn't abandon both of them, be another reason for Robin to keep her cynical ways.
So, he had left his own self preservation behind and stayed. Not to mention, the shame and guilt he felt for being manhandled to the basement. What kind of man was he? He felt disgusted and depressed with the current situation. Why couldn't he be more like his brothers? They wouldn't have let this go as far as it had. They would've made the right decisions; he was such a screw up.
A couple hours past sunrise, the cursing began. Both teens tensed, automatically searching for comfort as they scooted closer together.
A soft soothing voice, Mrs. Lucas', stuttered out of nerves as she explained how she merely fell asleep before he'd come to bed and therefore couldn't put the light out. Her emotional apologies became louder as Mr. Lucas did.
He called her awful things, things that angered Ponyboy and Robin. The loud bangs, the shattering of glass, screams of pain, soon began to fill the air.
The door slowly creaked open at the top of the stairs. Ponyboy, taking the lead, tip toed out. The room was in black and white, all except the blood that was redder than the paint on that new cherry colored Corvette he had seen a week prier.
There were no more sounds, just the red handprints covering the gray walls, the red liquid that was flowing around the Mrs. Lucas' body. Pony tried to call for Robin, but he couldn't speak, he was frozen.
He stumbled against the wall, breathing hard. Wasn't Robin behind him a moment ago? They needed to get out, panic overtook his senses, the desperate need to survive kicked in.
Suddenly, everything warped and Pony was in a room with white walls. His dirty rags had been replaced with a hospital gown. He looked around anxiously, Robin and Mrs. L. glided in, making no noise.
Both were dressed in white and looked like angels. Or they would have if Mrs. L. hadn't had red blood splattered all over her, and purplish blue bruises covering her skin, seeming to spread like ink before his eyes.
Robin smiled, no, it was more like a bitter smirk. She was completely colorless, all besides the red that stained her hands and the blood that oozed from the wound where a simple kitchen knife was still lodged in her abdomen.
Pony screamed, but was met with nothing but eternal silence.
Pony thrashed and yelled, Soda nearly falling out of bed with shock. Ponyboy's nightmares weren't something Soda had ever gotten used to; the six months apart had not helped.
"Shh, Pony, it's okay. Shh, you're alright, baby," Soda cooed to his younger brother.
Darry burst in, cautiously walking toward his littlest brother. Currently, he looked pretty bad. He had not gained his color back since his stay in the hospital. Sweat matted his dark locks to his forehead, his eyes still held the terror and panic he'd experienced a moment ago.
Pony panted slightly, looking sick.
"You're safe, little buddy," Darry said, unsure how to help Pony.
"Pony?" Soda questioned.
Pony shook his head, jumping up. They could hear him wrench in the bathroom, tossing up the little he had for dinner.
Steve and Johnny occupied the couch and floor of the Curtis's living room due to the grief their parents caused them. Both knew that Pony was plagued by nightmares when he slept; they'd been here before to witness them.
Never before had the kid gotten sick from one though. As much as Steve didn't want to admit it, he was worried about Pony. The kid hadn't been looking too good, then again who would after being shoved in a basement and a main witness for a murder trial for his girlfriend and foster parent?
The kid was like a cat, he always seemed to make it through alright. Steve didn't want to be around when Pony reached his ninth life.
His brothers had been walking on eggshells around him. The only ones who hadn't been were Dally and Two-Bit. Dally thinks the kid will get over it and Two-Bit tries not to linger on anything bad, he just overlooks it. Johnny was probably the only one who actually talked to the kid about his stay in Oklahoma City…
"You alright, Pone?" Soda asked, slightly unnerved.
"Fine," he mumbled, gloomily.
Darry and Soda tried to console in him and Pony just snapped at the two to shut up and go back to bed, he apologized for waking everyone up. As he ushered everyone off, he stayed behind himself.
"You need some shut eye too," Soda called.
"I'll go to sleep soon," Pony reassured him, though they all knew it was a lie.
He never sleeps after a nightmare like that.
Pony stumbled around in the kitchen, getting a glass of water. Johnny got up, following him around in there. Steve listened to their conversation, it was too low for Soda or Darry to hear and if the kid said anything important he'd tell Soda.
"What was it about? Must've been pretty bad," Johnny murmured, quiet as ever.
"I keep seeing it. All the goddamn time, Mrs. L. dead and that fucking basement," he hissed. Steve was slightly shocked by the cuss that slid from the kid's lips. It wasn't everyday you heard the kid swear like that, sure maybe you hear a soft damn or shit, but not something like that.
"Tell me about it," Johnny insisted.
"I ain't describing it to you. I don't want to think about it and you don't need to have that in your head either. All I know, is the end freaks me out. It's like Robin and Mrs. L. are angels, all in black in white towards the end, except their injuries. Mrs. L. has colorful bruises and some dried blood on her and Robin is covered in her own red blood. There ain't no sound either, they just stare at me. And, the mother fucking knife is still in Robin's side. How gruesome can a nightmare be for God's sake? Then, they look at me like 'why didn't you do anything?' And I still can't say nothing and I try to scream but I can't," Pony whispers.
"Jesus," Johnny mutters to himself.
Steve lies still, not wanted to bring attention to himself by making noise. He thought the kid never remembered anything, apparently he was now. His nightmare was completely fucked up. Steve certainly never dreamt anything that horrible. He couldn't help but pity the kid, sleep was a getaway for Steve, he couldn't imagine waking up from shit like that. Pony's sleep was hell.
"They'll go away, Pone," Johnnycakes said, trying to comfort the fourteen year old.
"Will they?" Pony laughed bitterly. "They're driving me crazy; I can't go an hour without my mind going back to that. And sometimes, I feel like I'm still trapped in that basement. I can't shut the goddamn door to the bathroom, Johnny! There ain't no windows and I feel like I'm going to get trapped in there if I shut it all the way. Come on! You can't even lock it from the outside. And screw our basement, I can't even look at the door without feeling sick," Pony's voice cracked out of distress. "I'm so screwed up," he snorted, sulkily.
"You just got to let yourself deal with it," Johnny told him, softly. "You're not going to get over it just like that."
"Why does it bother me now? It didn't at the time. Well it did, but I didn't panic, I was actually pretty calm about it. There's something wrong with me, want to know what me and Robin did in the basement?" He didn't bother to pause for Johnny's answer. "After realizing there wasn't any way to get the hell out, we sat there and made out. Who plays tonsil hockey when they're stuck in a basement with a loony upstairs? Every damn time I think about it, the more screwed up it seems."
Despite the situation, Steve and Johnny couldn't help but feel a little bit of amusement at the thought of the baby Curtis making out with his girlfriend. They all thought of him as a little brother, the idea was weird. Steve couldn't help but wonder if Pony was blushing at the confession.
"Well…there wasn't anything else to do," Johnny said.
"Nice to know you find this funny, Johnny," Pony, grumbled.
"Relax, get some sleep, and try not to give it so much attention," Johnny told him seriously.
"Yeah, I will. Head back to bed, and thanks, Johnnycakes."
Some shuffling and Johnny soon had his spot on the Curtis' living room floor. He tossed a little bit, thinking about what Pony had told him. By the sound of Steve's breathing, he was positive he was awake and heard everything Pony said. He waited until he heard Pony's bedroom door shut.
"Eavesdropper," Johnny muttered, turning to face Steve. He could just make out Steve's face in the dark, but the finer details were lost.
"This is bugging him more than Darry and Soda realize, you know," Steve said, not acknowledging Johnny's comment. He was worried about the kid and his brothers. His brothers weren't that much older than Pony himself; they were having a hard time dealing with this. It wasn't like they knew how to react to hearing their little brother being abuse. What do you do and say in a situation like this?
"Ponyboy needs to deal on his own in his own time, there ain't no way else to do this. Obviously, it's bothering him. But, it's Ponyboy; of course it's going to bother him. He can't go through shit like that and let it go easily, he's going to try and figure out the why's and how's of it all. He needs to figure it all out before he'll accept it and move on," Johnny explained.
"I know I don't understand the kid that well, but it ain't good for anyone to linger on shit like that. Who the fuck cares why the bastard killed them, he needs to just move on."
"It ain't how he works. He'll get that there aren't answers to them questions, but he needs to do it himself. Plus, we both know Pony's too stubborn to let it go," Johnny added.
"Because he's and idiot," Steve drawled.
"Or maybe he's got the right idea," Johnny mumbled, half asleep.
I think this may be one of my favorite chapters for this so far.
Reviews are great. Thanks for everything, everyone!