A/N: Hey guys! Here's chapter 9, as promised last night! Hope you enjoy it! Feel free to leave a review letting me know what you think of this chapter! Stay gold. x
XxX
*Darry's POV*
When the doctor arrived around seven that night, we still hadn't managed to control Ponyboy's temperature. It had only gone down to 104. When I told that to the doctor, he looked worried.
"That's not good," he commented as I escorted him to Ponyboy's bedroom, where Sodapop was watching Pony. Soda moved from the chair next to Pony's bed to allow Dr. Miller to sit down. The doctor immediately grabbed Ponyboy's wrist and began taking his pulse.
"Has he woken up since this morning?" he asked.
"Yeah, for a few minutes, but he was delirious, he asked…" Soda gulped, looking down at the floor. "He asked for our parents."
The doctor's face remained serious and professional, but I knew he felt sorry. I exchanged a look with Soda. I shot him a questioning look, trying to find out why he didn't tell me earlier but Sodapop simply shrugged.
"Could you wake him up?" the doctor asked. "I want to assess the effects of the fever for myself."
"I'll try, but I can't promise he'll comply," I answered.
I sat down on the bed on Soda's side of the bed and gently shook Pony's shoulder.
"Pony?" I called. No movement.
"Pony, I need you to wake up for me," I added, shaking Pony's shoulder more sternly. This time, the boy stirred. He stretched and groaned and then, his eyelids fluttered open. His glassy eyes scanned the room as if he didn't know where he was. His eyes stopped on me, on Sodapop, and then on the doctor. I thought he'd have a fearful reaction to the doctor, but he just stared at him, blank-eyed, too weak to even have a reaction.
One second, he was staring at the doctor, the next, he was sitting straight up in bed. It all happened really fast. All of a sudden, he broke into a coughing fit. The coughs were so strong and so sudden he was automatically thrown forward, doubling over on the bed. I rubbed Ponyboy's back, telling him over and over that it was okay. Pony tried to catch his breath but when he did, a strange bubbling sound came from his throat. The doctor seemed to know what was going on, because he grabbed the trash can that was right next to his chair and set in on Ponyboy's lap. I thought he was going to throw up, but instead, when Pony coughed again, blood came out from his mouth, splattering at the bottom of the trash can. Pony suddenly stopped coughing, and cleared his throat tentatively. He spat more blood in the trash can and just sat there, completely shocked.
"Oh my God," he croaked out, staring blankly at the bottom of the trash can. His eyes widened and he started breathing more quickly. "Oh my God!" he repeated, tears threatening to spill, clutching the trash can with both of his hands and staring at the blood at the bottom, seemingly terrified.
The doctor was quick to act.
"It's okay, Ponyboy," he said, taking the trash can away from him and handing it to Soda, who set it out of sight. It was as if Ponyboy hadn't heard the doctor. He was sitting there, blank-eyed, completely panicked, one hand on his throat, gasping for air. Dr. Miller got up from his chair and sat down on the bed so he was closer to Ponyboy. He placed both of his hands on either side of Pony's face and forced the boy to look at him.
"Ponyboy, I want you to calm down, and I want you to breathe. Can you do that for me?" he said gently, but firmly.
"O-okay," Pony stuttered. The doctor was taking deep breaths as Pony tried to match his breathing with his, breaths coming out shaky. I exchanged a look with Sodapop and I knew he was as terrified as I was. I could only watch the scene in front of me, not wanting to interfere with what the doctor was doing.
"That's good, that's awesome. Deep breaths…" Dr. Miller went on, encouraging him as Ponyboy's breathing got more steady. "I'm gonna have you lie down now, all right? Nice and gently," he added, grabbing the back of Ponyboy's neck and head to support him. I went ahead and grabbed his shoulder and his back, supporting his weight as Pony lied back down, tears streaming down his face. "That's it," the doctor said as Pony settled down. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he started coughing again. His features crisp with pain, he tried to sit up again, but the doctor pushed him back down onto his pillows.
"Take it easy, Ponyboy, calm down," the doctor soothed as Pony's cough finally subsided. My brother moaned. He had blood on his chin and on his lips, so Sodapop grabbed one of the washcloth that were in the bucket next to the doctor, wrung it and wiped Ponyboy's mouth and chin gently. The action seemed to comfort Ponyboy as he finally calmed down.
After that, the doctor proceeded to his examination as Sodapop settled down on the same side of the bed as mine. Ponyboy was coherent enough to have his temperature taken by the mouth, thankfully.
"104.1," the doctor frowned, writing the results down on a chart.
He proceeded to listen to Ponyboy's lungs. Soda and I both knew what came next.
"Ponyboy, do you remember getting a blood sample this morning?" the doctor asked.
Pony nodded slowly, apprehension clearly displayed in his feverish eyes.
"Well, we took that blood sample to the lab, and we found out that the reason why you're not getting better is because there are germs in your bloodstream. Because of that, we're gonna have to start using another antibiotic, a stronger one that's gonna make you feel better much faster, by injection."
Ponyboy's eyes widened. He looked from me to the doctor.
"No…" Ponyboy said in disbelief. I looked at the doctor, and he just shook his head.
"It'll be quick, Pony," I tried, rubbing his arm softly.
"No," Ponyboy repeated, his voice small and vulnerable. His eyes filled with tears once again. I knew in the state that he was in, any form of stress could reduce him to tears.
He started crying for good when the doctor got the needle ready next to him. I looked at Soda. This was his area of expertise. Soda switched places with me so he was sitting closer to his baby brother.
"Here, Pony, I'll be right here with you, okay?" he said next to Ponyboy's ear. He pulled his brother up and into his chest so Sodapop was sitting behind Pony and his brother was lying onto his chest. Soda wrapped his arms around Pony's waist.
Pony cried harder when the doctor grabbed his arm just above the elbow and pulled up his sleeve so his shoulder was exposed. The doctor rubbed the area with a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic. Sodapop had his head next to Pony's right ear, whispering sweet nothings, his head strategically placed so Ponyboy couldn't see what the doctor was doing.
When the needle pierced the skin, Ponyboy let out a small sob, but didn't make any attempt at struggling, his right arm lying completely limp and relaxed, too weak and exhausted to resist. The needle went out and Ponyboy's sobs slowly subsided, his shoulder sore. Sodapop was about to let him lie back down when the doctor stopped him.
"Wait," he said. "Darrel, could you get me a glass of water, please?"
"Of course," I said, perplexed as to why the doctor wanted a glass of water. I got up from the bed and left the room to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. I came back as quickly as possible and handed it to the doctor, who handed it to Ponyboy.
"Drink this, you'll feel better," he said to Pony.
Pony sniffed, eyes swollen from having cried so much. He grabbed the cup with two shaky hands and brought it up to his lips. He drank slowly, but he finished the whole glass. The doctor took it back from him and set it on the bedside table. Sodapop moved from behind his brother and helped him lie back down. Ponyboy's eyes soon were drooping from sleep, his breathing evened out and he fell asleep.
"Let's have a word outside," the doctor mouthed.
Soda and I both stood up and followed the doctor out of the room, closing the door behind us. We settled down the same way as before: Sodapop and I on the couch, the doctor sitting straight on the tip of the armchair
"What just happened?" I asked, referring to Ponyboy coughing up blood.
"Coughing up blood is common among pneumonia patients," the doctor answered. "It could be an irritation in his throat from coughing so much, since he didn't cough up much. He panicked at the sight of blood. That is common as well in the state that he's in."
"So, what's the deal?" I asked.
"Well, with the injection, Ponyboy's fever should start reducing in the next twelve hours, and you should see signs of significant improvement from now until tomorrow night. I'll be back at seven tomorrow night to assess his condition. If by tomorrow morning, his temperature is still 104 or higher, take him to the hospital."
I nodded. With that, the doctor stood up and so did we and with a final greeting, walked out the door. We went back to check on Ponyboy to find that he was still asleep. Sodapop settled back down on the chair and started moving the cool cloths on Pony's face again as I left to clean the trash can in the bathroom, praying that Pony's fever would break overnight.
