A/N: You guys, I am so, so sorry. I raided my sister's room today and finally found my book, read a little bit and started this up. It was done in about an hour and a half, so sorry for mistakes as well. But this is absolutely ridiculous, I know. I have to admit the next one may be pretty long as well-- not as long as this, but I'm kind of dreading writing the end. There will be either one or two chapters left, but I don't want angst! Well, at least more angst than this. So it will be sad :(
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Outsiders or any related characters.
And finally, most important, I want to dedicate this chapter to HarmonyWinters. Without her this chapter (and probably quite a bit of this story) may never have happened. So thanks Harmony :) for the inspiration and for the occasional ego boost.
I hated it in that church.
There was mostly nothing to do. We had a deck of cards, but we were running out of cigarettes to bet with, which cut down on both the amount of time we could spend playing poker and the number of weeds we could smoke. Pony, usually the smart one, didn't quite figure that out, and by the fifth day he was sick from smoking so much and not eating hardly anything. I tried to read Gone With the Wind while he was asleep, but I couldn't concentrate. There were two subjects on my mind – Dally and Bob, the Soc I killed.
I couldn't let myself think. I saw his face every time I did. Sure, I was justified in doing it. I could probably even get off on self-defense if I tried. If I hadn't killed him, Pony would be dead right now, and I most likely would too. But he was a kid – barely older than either of us. It wasn't that I thought he was a good person. I hated him. It was just the knowledge that somehow, I had played God. I had been the one to decide that he wouldn't live. I could still see his eyes widen as the knife went in; I could feel it slide between his ribs. Several times I had started awake during the night and had to sneak off to be sick, not wanting Pony to know. Sitting around and just thinking was no longer an option for me.
I missed being home. Not in my house, but home with the gang. I missed Pony's ramblings and stories. I could barely even listen now. I missed Soda and Steve's almost constant banter, and Two-Bit's wiseass grin. I missed protective, fatherly Darry, acting as a dad for Pony and Soda and even sometimes for me. Most of all, of course, I missed Dal. If the cops found out he was lying about us, he could get in big trouble. Especially for giving us the gun.
As my mind went around and around, I wondered if I would ever see him again.
"Johnnycakes," his voice broke my dream. I whispered his name, praying that I wouldn't wake up and have him disappear.
"Come on, Johnny. It's me, wake up."
Frowning, I opened my eyes. I had been thinking so hard about Bob and then about missing home; I must have fallen asleep.
"Dal!" I said when I saw that he was there, that he wasn't part of my dream.
"Hey, kid," he cracked a grin. "You doin' okay?"
As if I could be anything but wonderful now that he was there. "Fine now. It hasn't been too bad," I added, lying. "We're just bored mostly." I glanced at Pony. "He's smoked himself sick."
Dally grinned. "Well, let's let him sleep. Come outside with me."
I took his hand and followed him out to the back steps. We sat down next to each other and he pulled me in for a rough kiss before letting me go and saying, "Alright, cut the crap. Are you okay?"
I knew I couldn't brush it off this time, so I told him the truth. "I guess so. I get nightmares. I don't let Pony see, though. It's just... I feel like I took something that wasn't mine."
"Yeah, but he was gonna do the same thing with no cause," Dally argued. "You can't think of it that way. You did it to save your life; he was just looking for fun."
"I know," I sighed. "I get that, I guess. I just keep thinking about the feeling... when the knife went in..." My stomach started to churn as I remembered once again. I had to shrug out from under Dally's arm and breathe for a second before I leaned back into him.
"You good?" he asked, squeezing my shoulder.
I nodded. "It's getting better. I didn't sleep at all the first night. It's not so bad now."
"Good," he said, nodding. Absentmindedly he laced and unlaced his fingers with mine.
"How are you?" I asked in return, suddenly noticing the circles under his eyes.
Dally grinned. "Not much that can bother me, kid. The cops have questioned me a few times; Darry's about to rip my head off if I don't tell him where you guys are. But you know, I even kind of miss the kid," he added, jerking his head towards the sleeping Ponyboy.
"And what about me?" I teased. "Glad to get a nice break from me?"
His response surprised me. Shaking his head and laughing in a bitter way, he said, "I've missed you more than you know." There was a funny look in his eye – scared almost, but not, and I couldn't place it exactly.
I just smiled up at him. "I missed you too." I turned my body on the step so that I was facing him more, and I kissed him, gently in contrast to the rough one he had planted on me earlier. When we broke the kiss he pulled me in to lay on him. I listened to his heart beating until a growl interrupted the rhythm.
"Hungry?" I looked up at him, smiling.
"Always," he replied. "How about you?" I nodded enthusiastically and we went inside to get Pony.
Once back in the church, Dally's normal mood was back. He made fun of Ponyboy's hair, complained about being hungry, stole a cigarette. We sped to Dairy Queen, where we ate barbecue sandwiches and Dally showed us his (unloaded) gun.
I told him, on the way back, that I planned on turning myself in. That scared look came back in his eyes, and he pleaded with me, but I didn't listen. Ponyboy needed to get back to his family, and I would be okay. By the time we were back, Dally was mad, but something else demanded our attention as we rounded the corner.
The church was on fire, and the crackling of flames and screams of children reached our ears even from far down the road.
Without a thought, Pony was out of the car, running towards them. He had to have come to the same conclusion that I had – one of us had left a cigarette lit. And now there were kids in the church.
I felt like I had killed Bob all over again. Except this time it was worse, because God knew how many little kids were in there, little kids with families like the one I'd never had, innocent kids who hadn't done anything wrong. I couldn't stop thinking, What if it's my fault?
There was nothing to do but follow Ponyboy.
"Johnny! Get the hell back here!" Dally yelled, tears of fear or anger in his eyes.
I just shook my head. "I can't let it kill them, Dal," I cried, breaking my arm from his grasp.
As I turned and ran, I was finally able to place the look that he had worn three times that day: first when he told me he had missed me, then when I announced I was turning myself in, and now, as I was headed for the burning church.
It was a terrified look, like he was scared that something out of his control would take away something important to him.