***Ponyboy's POV***
I went to sit up so I could get off of Darry's lap but I couldn't. I could barely move. The sharp pain that had been in my stomach intensified so suddenly but was soon replaced with nausea. I needed to get to the bathroom in order to throw up but as I forced myself to my feet, my legs gave out and I ended up on my hands and knees. I tried to swallow my vomit long enough to make it to the bathroom but I wouldn't make it. I knew I wouldn't. It would only take moments for everything to come up. I did not have the time to crawl to the bathroom. Thank god for Darry. He understood my problem, I think, because he picked me up and carried me to the bathroom.
I started throwing up into the toilet once my feet touched the floor. I don't know how I had anything in me to bring up but I managed to spit up some vomit. Throwing up on an empty stomach was terribly painful. It hurt my chest as well as my stomach. I continued to dry heave for a while, depending on Darry to keep me on my feet. If he would have let go, I'd go crashing to the floor. My mouth tasted horrible and I was in so much pain. I started sobbing.
"Please," I begged, unable to stop myself. I was begging them to make it stop except I couldn't get the rest of the words out. Everything was so painful. I needed the pain to stop or end me. The pain only got worse as I stopped dry heaving. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, groaning and falling back into Darry's chest. I couldn't open my eyes because I was in so much pain. My sobbing grew louder and I couldn't stop it. I hated crying whether people were around or not. I didn't cry.
"Shh, honey, shh," Darry soothed, gathering me more gently in his arms. Before he had a strong grip on me so I didn't fall to the floor. Now he had me close to his chest with soft arms as if he was worried he had been the one causing me the pain.
"It hurts so bad," I cried out, trying to bite back a scream. The nausea returned to the original sharp pain but it was worse than it was a few minutes before. It was definitely worse than it had been the past few days. There was a metallic taste in my mouth and I knew that I bit my lip to the point it was bleeding. I couldn't help it, though. I didn't want to start screaming.
"Do you need a hospital?" Soda asked me and I felt his hand on my face. I could tell the difference between him and Darry. Darry's hands were more callused while Soda's were smoother. Darry's were bigger while Soda's were smaller. Darry was also a bit more rough than Soda was, but I'm not saying that he was rough at all. Just rougher.
I really didn't want to go to the hospital but I was so desperate. I was scared we'd get in trouble if they found out I was high but that was the least of my concerns at the moment. I was being selfish, I know, but it hurt so bad. Besides, as far as I knew, Darry and Soda didn't know about the pills. I had a feeling Dallas told them but they hadn't mentioned it to me yet. That was a good sign, I guess. "Yes please," I gasped out, unable to get enough air in my lungs.
"Soda, go start the truck," Darry said with a sense of urgency in his voice when I started hyperventilating. I just wanted the pain to end. Breathing like that made everything hurt worse but I couldn't stop it. My crying got louder. "Shh, baby. You're hurtin' yourself more," Darry whispered when I heard Soda sprint out of the bathroom. I had no idea at the moment how he knew that I was making the pain worse but now I know it's just common knowledge. Crying while in pain makes the pain worse. Like I said; I couldn't help it. "You gotta breathe, honey." I shook my head, trying to tell him that I physically couldn't speak no more. I'm sure if I would've forced myself then words would've come out but I couldn't force myself. "Where does it hurt? Show me." Somehow I found the strength to lift my arm and point to the lower right side of my stomach. He barely touched it but that caused so much pain that I couldn't help the scream that escaped my lips. Immediately, he was hugging me and rocking us back and forth. "I'm so sorry. Sorry, sorry. I'm sorry, Pone, shhh, it's okay. I got ya," he whispered. He sounded scared. I was scared, too.
"Darry," I pleaded, "help." I blindly grabbed ahold of his arm, accidentally digging my fingers into it. I couldn't stop myself. I needed to hold onto something. The pain was unbearable. "It hurts. Please, please, please!" My breathing got even faster and he picked me up as quickly as he could without moving me too fast. It still made me cry out in pain. He kept apologizing because every little movement caused a wave of pain up my body. I barely realized that we were suddenly in the truck and that Sodapop was speeding down the street while Darry held me in his lap in the back seat. I let out a scream again as we hit a bump in the road but I quickly covered my mouth with my own hand to keep me quiet.
"Faster, Soda," Darry commanded in a gentle yet urgent tone. Soda complied and I forced my eyes open long enough to see that his eyes were wide and his skin was pale. I vaguely told myself that that's how I looked to them all the time. I felt bad. It hurt me bad to see Soda like that. I couldn't imagine what it was like for them to see me so pale and scared nearly everyday. It must have been horrible. I still don't know how they did it.
I felt the fight in my body start to give out as the pain continued to intensify. There was nothing I could do to stop it. My breathing slowed and my sobs got quieter. The tears continued to come endlessly but I wasn't crying loud anymore. My body lost the fight against the pain and I got weaker and weaker. The pain didn't let up, though. It only got worse. I couldn't even yelp anymore. I was exhausted. "Is the pain better?" Soda asked. I could only shake my head because I was starting to fall asleep.
"Stay awake, little buddy, 'kay?" Darry said, talking very fast. I gave a small nod. I wanted to do what he said. I listened to them when they gave me a direct order. It was one of the better qualities of me. I was obedient. But I couldn't listen to him then. I tried as hard as I could but soon, I welcomed the darkness the engulfed me.
I woke up and noticed immediately I wasn't in my bed with Sodapop's arm wrapped tight around me. I started panicking. I sat up and regretted that decision instantly. I held my lower stomach and bit my lip to keep from screaming. I couldn't help the wince that escaped my throat, though. "Pony, it's okay," a familiar voice said, making me calm down a bit. I recognized it but it took me a moment to figure out who had spoken. I knew it wasn't Darry or Sodapop. I opened my eyes and saw Steve standing over me. I relaxed and laid back down. "How ya feelin', kid?"
"Tired," I admitted, rubbing at my eyes. "What's going on?"
"What all do you 'member?" he asked, sitting down in the chair that was right next to the bed I was laying in. I figured he brought it up to the bed to keep a closer eye on me.
"Pain," I mumbled. The pain was horrible. That was impossible to forget. "I passed out on the way to the hospital."
"You had an appendix attack. They had to remove it," he said. My eyes went wide and I immediately looked down at where I felt the most pain. I went to lift my gown to look at it but Steve's hand on my arm stopped me. "Relax, kid. You're okay now. You can actually go home sometime today, I think. They said whenever you really woke up."
"How long was I out?" I asked, again rubbing at my eyes. I was real tired and was still trying to wake up. I was exhausted.
"Your surgery was yesterday. It was an emergency," he said. I nodded. It was only a day. I was afraid it would've been more than that. I couldn't imagine how my brothers would have reacted if I was out cold for a few days. It'd drive them insane. "It all turned out okay. Your brothers are at work right now. Golly, it was nearly impossible to get 'em to go but Johnny was able to convince 'em."
I perked up at the mention of Johnny. I knew he hadn't gone to school the day before. Nobody told me why but they didn't need to. His dad gave him a real hard time and he was in too much pain to go to school. That happened too often for my liking. I wanted to see him. "How's Johnny? He okay? Was he here? Where is he?"
He chuckled a little at my outburst of questions. "One at a time, kid. Johnnycake's just fine. He was a little roughed up yesterday but he's a tough kid like you. He came by earlier to see if you were okay. He stayed with ya while me an' Two-Bit were at school. He's at Two's right now gettin' some rest."
I let out a breath of relief. Johnny would be okay. I was always scared that one day his father would go too far. I think the entire gang was worried about that happening, too. If I lost somebody else, I think it'd be the death of me. I shook those thoughts away. It wouldn't do me any good to over think like that. "I hate to ask," I said shyly, looking down at the blankets, "but can you please get me a drink?" I hated asking for anything. I hated being more of a bother. I was already a terrible burden. But I was really, really thirsty.
"Sure thing, kid. I'll be right back."
When he walked out of the room, I felt my stomach start to come up. I groaned as I scrambled to get out of bed and to the trashcan on the other side of the room. I had assumed that I would be okay since the problem was fixed but apparently not. I was still throwing up. I barely reached the can before I started puking. It was mainly just dry heaving but some liquids came out. That was gross. I hated throwing up with a passion. I had nothing in my stomach to really bring up. It was extremely painful just like everything else in my life. Sorry for the self-pity.
I heard the pounding of feet come down the hall but I didn't care. I wasn't paying much attention to any of them. I just wanted the pain to stop. I gripped the sides of the trashcan before I toppled over. I was really dizzy and even more thirsty than before. I felt somebody touch my back and I didn't recognize the hand. I tried shrugging it away but the person kept replacing it. I didn't want to be touched by strangers. What was odd was that I didn't mind the idea of one of the gang comforting me. But no strangers. Never strangers. "Please don't touch me," I begged when I finished puking. I pushed myself away from that person - that hand. I crawled backwards, shaking my head and squeezing my eyes shut. "Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't touch me."
"What the hell?" I heard Steve exclaim before the unfamiliar person could say anything. I opened my eyes and saw him in the doorway. I tried to crawl over to him but I was shaking too bad. He set the cup on the ground and knelt beside me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pulling me closer to him. I was thankful for that. He'd keep me safe. But I couldn't stop myself from crying and whimpering in fear. "What did you do to him?!"
"Steve," I cried, trying to hide behind him. He allowed me to but his arms never left my body. Normally, the gang would've let go if they ever thought it wasn't okay for them to touch me. I guess he either knew it was okay or he thought that something bad was happening and he needed to protect me. I felt like something bad was happening so I wasn't complaining. Besides, I didn't mind him holding me.
"Calm down. It's okay, you're okay," he breathed out quickly, allowing me to hold on to him and cry. "Make yourself useful and call one of his brothers, will ya?" He was snapping at whoever was touching my back. I was too scared to look and see who it was. I was expecting to see that man's face. I started crying more at the thought of him. He scared me so much. I didn't want to go with him. I couldn't handle it.
"He was throwing up. We need to get the IVs back in him," a woman said, sounding about as sorry as I felt when I heard her. I didn't mean to be so scared of a nurse. But even though I felt bad and I realized I wasn't in any danger, I was still terrified. I knew that the man was still around. I had no idea where he was but I knew he was near. I started crying harder when I thought that.
"You scared 'im," Steve snapped. He usually acted about as hateful as Dallas acted. He got snappy like that when he was either being protective or when he was genuinely mad about something. At that moment, he was being protective. He knew I was scared and he couldn't understand why so he was going to treat everything as a threat. I was thankful for that because everything felt like a threat. "Just go. I'll get 'im back in bed." After the nurse mumbled a quick apology, I heard her quiet footsteps exit the room. I couldn't relax, though. I was having a panic attack. When it was just me and Steve in the room, his arms softened from protecting to comforting. "Kiddo, look at me," he whispered. I forced myself to keep my eyes open and look up at him. I couldn't stop the tears that unwillingly flowed from my eyes. "What's got ya so scared, Pone?"
What had me so scared was that I had realized what I wished I realized months before. I couldn't handle going back to the basement, whether it was the same basement or a different one or if it was not even a basement anymore. I couldn't go back to how I grew up. I didn't want to be with them. I may have deserved it but I couldn't deal with it anymore. I wouldn't survive it. I couldn't put myself through it. I couldn't put my brothers and the gang through it. Screw it. The gang are my brothers, too. I couldn't put my brothers through anymore pain. It'd hurt even worse a second time because they had me around for so long just to lose me again. I couldn't imagine living without them even though I did so for the majority of my life. I was loved. I was cared about. I was protected. I didn't want to be back with those bad men. I wanted to be with my family. The only way I could keep myself safe was if I let them know exactly what was going on.
"I don't want to go back," I whispered, more tears running down my cheeks. "I don't wanna go back to the basement. I don't wanna."
"You aren't. You're safe," he said, but I could see in his eyes that he was scared, too. They grew colder and more alert. It was like he was willing himself to hear, see, and feel everything around us so he knew if somebody was going to come and try to take me away. His eyes also got darker as if he was remembering something horrible. He was probably thinking about what he knew that I went through or something like that. I hate to sound the way I sound right now with the way my family all cared about me but it was honestly the truth. I know I'm loved. I know I'm cared about. I couldn't deny their love. It was painfully obvious and I enjoyed it.
"No, no, no, no. I'm not safe. He's been following me. I'm scared. He's everywhere. He's going to get me. I don't want to go back. I keep seeing him whenever I leave the house. Wherever I go, he's there," I explained quickly, hiding my face in his chest as I was overcome with loud, painful sobs. I held on to him as tightly as I could, not caring if I hurt him. I feel bad now because I'm sure I probably held on too tight but at the moment I didn't realize I could've possibly been hurting him. "I don't wanna. I don't wanna. Oh my god, please, I don't want to."
"You won't havta go back," he said, his arms tightening around me. "We'll keep ya safe. Tell me where ya see 'im, Pone."
"Everywhere!" I cried. "He's probably outside the hospital right now..." I paused. "...or inside..."
"When did you start seein' 'im?" he practically demanded, pulling me from his chest and making me stare straight into his terrified and angry eyes. I knew he wasn't angry at me. I wasn't even scared that he was. I was only scared of that man.
"He was always there," I whimpered, shaking my head to try to will myself to stop crying. "He started comin' 'round the time I came home. A few weeks later, maybe."
"Why haven't you told us?" he asked, his voice just as quiet as mine.
"Cause I was scared..."
"We'll keep ya safe," he said and pulled me back in close to him. It sounded like he was trying to convince both me and himself. I hid my face back in his chest and screamed with my mouth closed. "We need ta get ya in bed. C'mon. I promise I won't leave your side."
