Lucky Shot

by CriminalOutsider'sGirl14

"'Look boys, I could care less that your underage in a bar right now. There's been a shooting, and I wanna know what you saw." "Who was shot?" "Ponyboy Curtis. Do you know him?" "Yeah," Soda gulped, his world spinning black. "I know him."' When Steve, Soda, Two-Bit, and Pony all go out to Bucks, it ends in the youngest member getting shot. Who will pay the price? Why was Pony shot?

4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Hospitals and Diagnostics

Lucky Shot

Disclaimer: Do I look like I own The Outsiders? No. The real owner of The Outsiders is the best author ever, S.E. Hinton. I also do not make a profit from the stories that I write on this site.

A/N: Please tell me what you think! Criticism is welcome, but no flames please. Flames killed Johnny. ;) Suggestions are always welcome, no matter what they might be. Thanks.

Cynthia May's POV

The last time I had been in a hospital was when I was five and Michael was seven, almost eight years old. We had decided that it would have been a great idea to climb the tree in our backyard.

Bad idea. The third branch that I put my weight upon broke. I screamed as I fell and heard the sickening crack of my ankle bone being broken. I started screaming my head off even louder then. Michael, being the overprotective brother he was, even at such a young age, picked me up and rushed me into the house to mom, who drove me to the hospital.

I slowly pried open my heavy eyes. My head was pounding and my vision was blurry and dark. I tried to blink and clear up my vision, but my eyesight remained to be black.

"Mom? Mom! I can't see anything," my voice was quick and high with panic. My mom put her hand on my arm.

"You hit your head, May."

"Is it gonna come back?" I asked. Please, please just say yes. Please say it's just temporary. Please..

I didn't get the answer I was looking for.

"The doctors don't think so," Mom informed me gently. I began to sob.

"No... Please no," I begged helplessly.

Sodapop's POV (August 19, 1967; 2:08 p.m.)

I glanced at the clock. Only three more hours to go.

"Soda, man, what's wrong with you?" Steve demanded, seemingly annoyed by my lack of interest today. I shot him a glare.

'Really, Steve? Your gonna be like that' my eyes read.

He weighed the options for at least a good five minutes. Then, he gave in. "I'll drive you to the hospital again tonight, alright?" Steve asked me, sounding like he was trying to make up for me being mad at him. If only he knew; he was just being Steve, my best buddy. "Will that help you feel a little bit better?"

If only he knew how wrong he was.

That night when we reacted the hospital, Ponyboy's room was surrounded by nurses and doctors going in and out quickly, faces urgent and intense.

I couldn't get their attention. My knees felt weak.

Finally, after an agonizing, panicking wait, one of the doctors explained in a heavy drawl, "Mr. Curtis has a high fever. He's seem to have developed an infection. He ain't lookin' to good, boys."

Aufenthalt Gold,

~Alee xXx