Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or the song "Whipping Post"

I've been run down. I've been lied to. I don't know why. I let that mean woman make me a fool. She took all my money, wrecks my new car, now she's with one of my good time buddies. They're drinkin' in some cross town bar. Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel, like I've been tied to the whipping post. Tied to the whipping post. Tied to the whipping post. Good lord I feel like I'm dyin'.

I've been driving for an hour now. There's a puddle of rain on my lap. Luckily the radio is about the only thing that works in this car. With the volume turned up all the way, I drawn out the sound of the rain and my sobs. I sing along loud enough to make my ears ring. I stop at McDonald's, ordering the largest fry and hamburger possible. I stuff my face, crying and belting out to Ray Charles "Bye Bye Love".

Darry is home by now. I know he's planning my funeral as we speak. Instead of going home like I should, I reverse, go back through the drive-through, and order more fries and a milkshake.

It's dark by the time I start driving home. I give myself plenty of time to collect myself and for the swelling in my eyes to go down. I won't tell Darry about where I was or what I saw. I've humiliated myself enough for one night. So I stuff the last few fries in my mouth, throw away the evidence in the trash outside, and hang my head as I brave going into the house.

Darry's in the living room. He doesn't look at me for a while. He's drinking a beer, watching the news. I stand there, lingering by the door, waiting for the lecture, but he doesn't acknowledge me.

Kathy is in the kitchen, cooking. I watch her, and she doesn't acknowledge me either.

I sigh, turning to go to my room, when Darry decides to speak, "Again?"

"What?"

He turns his chair around, facing me. He holds his hands out, palms facing up. "What excuse do you have now?"

I think for a minute. I didn't give much thought to what I might say. "None."

He nods, turns his chair back to the TV, and takes a sip of his beer. "Just go to your room, Danni."

I do as I'm told. Kathy gives me a sympathetic glance from the kitchen before I go, adding to the guilt I already feel.

I shut the door quietly behind me and lean against it and slip down until I'm sitting on the floor. I burry my head in my hands and take a deep breath. Tears don't come because I'm dehydrated from all the crying and sodium. I feel like I weigh a thousand pounds and my stomach hurts. My head is pounding and the image of that girl is stuck in my head. The more I think about her, the more she looks like a beautiful goddess than she did before.

I pull myself up off the floor and collapse on the bed, forcing myself to sleep.

It's midnight. I'm not sleepy anymore, and the house is full of sleeping people. There's a leak in my ceiling. Water slowly drips on my forehead and I think about Darry - how he's not going to be able to fix the leak. He used to make his living fixing leaks. Now he can't even fix a leak in his own house.

Tiptoeing through the house, I go into the bathroom and run a bath. The water isn't as hot as it should be, and I know that needs fixing too. This house, the truck - everything needs to be fixed. Darry will try to fix them all, but he can't fix everything. He's in a wheelchair. He can't walk. He'll try to fix everything though, because that's who Darry is. He's a fixer. It's starting to get harder, and I know he's realizing that.

I fully lay down in the tub, leaving my face above water. I lay here for a while, staring up at the ceiling and the cobwebs in the corners. There's a spider directly above me. He stops moving once he sees that I've noticed him.

I sigh, trying not to make too much noise as I quickly jump out, wrap a towel around me, and leave the spider alone in the room.

It's 12:30am. It's summer. Any other summer night at 12:30am, there'd be people over here, and some sort of drinking game would be going on. There'd be guys arm wrestling and seeing who can drink the most without throwing up. There'd be music playing and laughing. There'd be a party.

Things have changed. Everyone's moved on.

I sit in the wooden chair placed by the phone in the kitchen. Sitting quietly, I hear someone snoring. From the outside, I hear crickets chirping. The summer heat is coming through the screen door, warming my cold legs. I'm alone right now. I feel vulnerable, as vulnerable as I've felt in a while.

As quietly as I can, I pick up the phone.

Jennie's groggy morning voice answers. "Hello?"

"Did I wake you?" I ask.

"Danni?"

"Yeah."

She sighs, then after a minute, says, "No. No it's fine."

I cross my legs, bouncing one up and down. "Can you talk?"

"Hold on." I know she's making sure Soda isn't in the room. This is the great thing about Jennie - I don't have to tell her, she already knows what I'm thinking. "Alright. What's going on?"

I swallow, trying my best to stay strong through this painful conversation. "I went over there."

"To Dally's." It's not a question.

I nod even though she can't see me. I know what she's thinking. I know I probably seem like such a child to her. It feels like I am anyway. I feel like Emily Matthews when she ran off with a boy she just met only to find out he wasn't the guy she thought he was.

"Didn't go well, did it?" Jennie asks.

My grip on the phone tightens. My willpower to stay strong is fading. I shut my eyes and let myself confide in her. "Why am I doing this? Why do I always do this?"

It doesn't take her long to respond. "Because you're in love."

"Why?" The crying as started. I try to keep it at a silent cry only so I won't wake anyone up. "Why do I love him? Why do I love him after all the times he's done the same shit to me? Why?"

"Danni-"

"There was a girl there." I sniffle. "I saw them through the window. God, Jennie, she was gorgeous." I shake my head just thinking about it. "And they were laughing and smiling at each other. They looked so goddamn happy. He looked happier with her than he's ever looked with me."

"You're exaggerating." I know I am, but it is true I haven't seen Dally smile like that in a while. That's what hurts. "I'm sure there's an explanation," Jennie says.

"Why?" I ask. "Why would there be an explanation? It's Dallas Winston. Of course as soon as I'm out of the picture he has a girl over there."

"Stop, alright. Take a deep breath and calm the fuck down."

I press ridge of my nose, trying to breathe. I've already had my emotional breakdown, I don't have the energy to have another one tonight.

Jennie sighs on the other end of the line. "Listen to me. He loves you, Danni. I've never questioned that. You know why? I can see it in him. I can see it in the way he talks about you, the way he looks at you, the way he says your name, and the way he fights with you. If he didn't, he wouldn't go to the trouble that he has. He would have left this town a long time ago and not looked back. Only reason he's still here is 'cause of you."

Sadly, her words of comfort come up short, as the wounds are still fresh.

"Soda told me what happened earlier today," she says softly. "You know why he's so upset?"

I shake my head.

"He knows this is all bullshit. He knows it's the dumbest thing in the world to try to keep you and Dally apart, but he wants to protect you, and this is the only way he knows how. He's torn."

I twist the phone cord around my finger. Deep down, I know Darry and Kathy feel the same way. They know this battle of keeping me and Dally apart is almost useless. I don't have a solution either.

"He knows you two love each other," she goes on. "He knows Dally loves you. He hates it. He hates it so much because it's Dallas Winston and he's in love with his little sister, which is any older brother's worst nightmare, but he knows he can't stop it."

She goes on, "You love Dally because, deep down, you know he's a good guy. You know he cares more than he shows. You know he'd do anything for you...even if that means pushing you away in order to protect you."

I can see reason, and my logical side says she's right, but my emotional side is still fighting against everything she's saying. Dally's done so much in the past to protect me, and I know this is no different. What I'd wish everyone would understand is that Dally needs to be protected more than me this time.

"Give it some time. Don't overthink it. He loves you. He'd never do that to you."

She's referring to the girl - whoever she is.

"Promise you won't say anything?" I ask her.

"Sure."

"I saw Dale." Everything's starting to become too heavy for me to carry. I need to tell someone what happened, and Jennie seems like the harmless choice.

"Back-from-the-dead Dale?"

I nod. "Yeah. He told me some things and, I dunno, I wanted to tell Dally then but I didn't. I called his mom and she told me that Dally's brother is missing...this is all just starting to feel like too much. I need to talk to someone about it."

There's no response on the other end. As much as I want to tell Jennie the story from cover-to-cover, I know that's impossible. Also, Jennie doesn't want to hear it. She's voiced before that I need to let this go, and listening to me go on and on about it is only feeding my will to carry on.

I don't have anyone else to talk to about this. "I don't know what to do, Jennie. I just want it all to stop."

She sighs deeply, and I feel the lecture coming. "Then let it go, Danni. Let Dally handle it. It doesn't concern you."

"But it does. Jennie, it concerns me in every way possible."

"How?"

"It just does."

"Danni-"

"I caused all of this - Johnny getting shot - they did that to get back at me and Dally. They know and they want me to pay just like they made the other's pay. Dale told me about Ponyboy. He told me Ponyboy told him I was the fifth person. I was the fifth person who was with the twins and Randy and Sam when Jason died. That's how I'm involved. Pony is the one who told Dale who I was. That's why Dale came after me and Dally during the tornado. That's why he shot Johnny when he couldn't have us."

"What?" a male's voice asks.

I turn around, shocked to see him standing in listening distance. He heard the whole thing. He knows. "Ponyboy. Oh, God."

He shakes his head at me and starts to walk towards the door. The fear of not knowing what he's going to do causes me to act fast. I quickly slam the phone down and start to run after him only to realize I'm just in a towel, and he has the car keys in his hand.

"Pony, wait a minute!"

As quickly as humanly possible, I rush into my room, throw on a dirty dress laying on the floor, and follow him outside. There's no time to think of the possibilities of where he might be going. I just know it can't be anywhere good considering what he just heard.

Ponyboy's already in the car and starting it up by the time I get out there. He starts to reverse and I leap towards the car. "Wait a minute, damnit!" I grab hold of the driver's side door-handle as he continues to back-up. "Ponyboy, stop the goddamn car!"

He stops the car and rolls the window down. "Get off."

"No." I try opening the door but he's got it locked.

He revs up the engine. "I'm gonna hit you. Move!"

"Don't do this," I beg. Again, I don't know what it is he's about to do, but I know it's not going to be good. I've got to stop him from doing something stupid.

"Move!"

I let go of the handle, but just as quickly as it registers with him that I've let go, I'm at the passenger side of the car, jumping in as Ponyboy tries to drive away. He slams on the breaks as I sit down. The passenger side door slams shut as the car breaks squeal.

He glares over at me, pointing towards the house. "Get out."

"No way."

"Get out, Danni. I mean it." His voice is as rough and mean as I've ever heard it. It's still Ponyboy, so it's not as mean as Dally and Darry can get, but it still shocks me. If I weren't as worried for his safety as I am, it might have been enough to get me to listen.

"You gonna make me?" I ask. "Because we both know I can handle you."

He gives me the same look Darry has all-too-many times. Unfortunately for Ponyboy, he doesn't scare me like Darry does.

"I ain't movin'."

He stares at me for another minute before realizing that he's not going to win this battle. He slams his hand against the stirring wheel, making me jump. We sit for another minute, listening to the engine of the car and the barking of the neighborhood dogs that were woken up in the commotion.

"Ponyboy..." I say, trying to get his attention. I try reaching for his arm, but he pulls away from me. He puts the car back in reverse and starts driving.

I don't ask where we're going. As long as I'm here to stop him from doing anything, I can breathe easy for a minute.

I watch him drive - the way his fingers grip the leather of the wheel. The veins under his hand are large and dark blue, but his hands still manage to shake slightly. There's two drops of sweat that are stuck on his forehead. His lips are pressed tightly together as his jaw twitches.

This is a new Ponyboy that I haven't seen before. He's the calm one, the one who always sees reason. Ponyboy doesn't get angry. He gets annoyed, sometimes mad, but never have I seem him be full blown angry. He looks like he could kill a man. I may be that man if given enough time.

The sound of the car is the only noise we hear as we continue driving down the road. We're the only ones out here.

I wrap my arms around each other, trying to warm up. My wet hair is making my whole body shiver. It probably doesn't help that I'm only wearing a thin sundress.

After another mile, I start to recognize where we're going. Of course he's going there.

He parks the car, slamming the door behind him. He doesn't wait for me to follow, but I do, still concerned, even though this is considered a "safe place."

The walk down the hallway is eerier than the drive. Only night nurses occupy the small space. They give us glances as we pass, but never say anything. It's past visiting hours, but they don't seem to care that we're here.

We get to his room and Ponyboy enters first. I linger behind him, still nervous as the first time about entering.

I quietly shut the door behind us as Ponyboy goes over to the bed. Again, I look at the floor as I walk over. It never gets any easier to see him.

Ponyboy falls to the ground on his knees. His sobs come shortly after. It jolts me to hear him. Normally, Ponyboy cries a soft cry. He likes to cry in private these days. He's getting older, and he's learning more and more that men don't cry. That's something that's only reserved for girls and children.

"I'm sorry," he cries loudly. "God, I'm so sorry, Johnny."

I go to him, gently placing my hand on his back.

"You're my best friend," he says. "I-I...I'm so sorry."

I let him cry here, his best friend's hand in his. I kneel down beside him, rubbing small circles on his back. Hearing him cry brings tears to my own eyes, but I hide that from him. I just stay here, by his side, trying to heal wounds that are too deep to fix.

My friends tell me, that I've been such a fool. And I have to stand down and take it babe all for lovin' you. I drown myself in sorrow as I look at what you've done. Nothin' seems to change. Bad times stay the same, and I can't run. Sometimes I feel, sometimes I feel, like I've been tied to the whipping post. Tied to the whipping post. Tied to the whipping post. Good lord I feel like I'm dyin'.