Unfortunately, this will not even out to ten chapters. It will probably be between eleven to fifteen chapters, just so you know that the end of the story is fast approaching.

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF DRUGS, ALCOHOL, AND VIOLENCE, AND BRIEF MENTIONS OF SEX BUT NOTHING GRAPHIC

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Previously on Prophet

Darry took a deep breath and said, "He's..."

"He's alive," Darry said.

"And?" Soda pressed.

"No broken bones, no major burns, except for one on his back, but..."

"But what?" Dally snapped. "Spit it out already!"

"The doctor said that Pony was fortunate to come out of that fire alive with all of his limbs still working properly, but the catch is that he did hit his head," Darry explained.

"Damn it, Darry, what does that mean?"

They all turned to Johnny in shock, who didn't even bat an eye at all the stunned looks.

"It means that... well, why don't you see for yourself? He's right in here," Darry said, leading them to the room the doctor had pointed out.

Pony really didn't look as bad as they had all imagined. They weren't sure what to expect, but they were relieved that Pony's condition didn't even come close to what they had all feared.

He was unconscious for one thing, and he'd lost a lot of weight since he and Johnny had run off to Windrixville. His hair was blonde and naturally greasy now, cut right under his ears. He was missing his shirt and there was a bandage around his torso due to the burn on his back. A pristine white bandage was wrapped around his head, pushing his hair away from his face, which dawned a few bruises and a scratch or two and dark circles under his eyes. Other than being stained with soot and bruised, Pony didn't look any worse than when he'd fallen out of a tree when he was little, which was a huge relief.

"Oh my God," Soda was almost crying with relief.

"Well, I'm gonna go get a coffee if no one minds," Darry left before anyone could say a word, not meeting anyone's eyes.

For a moment, there was silence until...

"Why do I have a feeling that he's hiding something from us?"

They all turned to Two Bit with looks of disbelief on their faces.

"Noooo!" Soda drawled sarcastically.

"That's because he is, dumbo!" Dally yelled as Steve smacked Two Bit upside the head.

"Ow!" Two Bit yelped.

"So do you think he's gonna be okay?" Johnny whispered, eyes focused on the motionless body on the bed and not paying any attention to the fight between the other four gang members.

Soda shrugged, stepping up next to the smaller boy. "Mentally or physically?"

"Either" was the short answer.

"Well, physically, I think he'll be okay. If there was any lasting damage, Darry would've just said it straight out."

Johnny was too frightened for his best friend to mention anything about the fact that Darry was hiding something from them- something he didn't think they could handle.

"Mentally, probably not for a while. After all, no one could go through all of that and come out alright."

Johnny didn't miss the sympathetic looks the others sent him, but he didn't say anything. He just continued to stare at his best friend, who was the strongest person he knew, laying so powerless in a hospital room.

"Johnny," Dally placed a hand on Johnny's shoulder, "he'll be okay."

The group stared at the pair in suprise. What had happened to change Dallas Winston- no good hood, hard as bullet proof glass- so much?

"Hey, Johnny," Two Bit said. "I think he's looking for you." He pointed out the door and Johnny walked over to him.

Walking down the hospital corridor, guess who was coming towards them?

"Hey, kid!" He called. "I need to talk to you."

Bob Shelton halted before the door and Two Bit reached for his pocket, where his switchblade resided.

Bob raised his hands, which Johnny noticed with shock and relief, bore no rings. "No weapons. You can search me if you need to. I just want to talk to the kid."

"The kid... has a name," Dally growled. "Now, you don't talk to Johnny after what happened last week."

"Look, it's just a conversation, and if it makes you feel better, I can do it right here."

The group stood there with their arms crossed as if saying, 'Go on.'

"Guys, it's okay. Dally, come with me. The rest of you, stay with Ponyboy and come get us when he wakes up," Johnny stated, firmly, taking Dally's arm and leading him out of the room.

They all exchanged glances.

Finally, Steve said, "What the hell just happened?"

"I have no idea," Two Bit and Soda said in unison.

Meanwhile, Dally, Johnny, and Bob stood silent just out of earshot of Pony's door, the duo facing the Soc.

"Well, I'm sure you both know that I've decided not to press charges," Bob finally broke the silence. "But I thought you should know why."

"What?" Dally asked, suprised. Where on earth was this Soc going with this?

"What that other kid- Ponyboy Curtis- said really got to me," Bob sighed. "I was drunk when I did those things- beating up you and Ponyboy, I mean. But when I was sober, I realized Ponyboy was right. It took me two days of anger and pondering and quite a few lectures from Cherry and Randy and my parents, but my vision started to clear."

Dally snorted. "It couldn't have been that simple."

Bob shook his head. "It wasn't, but I want to tell you why I act the way I do- why I get drunk and jump kids and all of that. There's no excuse for it, but tell you what, here's the story of my life. Don't worry, I'll make it short.

"When I was a baby and a young child, my parents doted over me all the time and at first, it was wonderful. I was spoiled rotten and loved very dearly, but... then, it started to get suffocating and dangerous.

"Every kid tests their boundaries. You do it every time you get drunk or have a gang fight. Some parents don't care; others care too much. Mine were the latter. When I first got drunk, they blamed themselves, said they were sorry, and I thought, hey, there's nothing wrong with it if they're not punishing me.

"I started to get involved with alcohol, drugs, and violence. They never punished me, and I know that sounds great to you, but that also meant I never knew when to stop. I'd come home, drunk as hell, and pass out for two days and they never told me to stop. I'd do everything from pills to Marijuana and they never told me to stop. I lost my virginity when I was fifteen and they never told me to stop. Things only got worse."

Dally found himself pitying this rich kid. It wasn't really his fault- some of it was, sure, but the majority of it? Well, you couldn't blame him when no one ever told him it was wrong. He didn't know better until it was too late for him.

Johnny was sympathetic towards the teenager. He knew what it was like to get in a world of trouble and to have your parents not care, even if you could've died. Bob's problem was the opposite- his parents cared so much, but they showed their care the wrong way. They couldn't stand up to him, tell him not, and it almost got him killed. It would get him killed if he didn't stop this behavior.

Bob read Johnny's mind. "I'm trying to get better, and so far, I'm doing very well. I'm staying in a treatment center for Teen Alcoholism and Drug Abuse. I've been detoxed and I'm doing... okay."

They lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

"How's Ponyboy?" Bob whispered.

Johnny shrugged. "He'll live; no lasting damage."

"Guys!" Soda cheered as he rushed out of the hospital room. "He's awake."

All of them, including Bob, raced back into the hospital room and sure enough, Ponyboy was sitting up, looking confused.

"Ponyboy!" Soda yelped, leaping forward and embracing his now fully awakened little brother.

He looked very puzzled when the new blonde pushed his elder brother away.

"I'm sorry," Ponyboy said, "but who are you?"

oh, no, Pony has amnesia! What will the gang do? Will he ever get his memory back? Stay tuned to find out! Read and review!