-Ponyboy's POV-

I have never been so scared in my whole life. Actually, I didn't even have time to be scared, because all of us were rushed out of the room so fast by a large team of doctors and nurses carrying big bags of medical equipment. I tried to take a glance at Soda from where I was standing, but all I could see was the backs of doctors who were helping my brother.

Darry pulled me into a firm hug and I broke down into a fit of sobs. At this point, I didn't even care who saw me and I could care less what they thought. I couldn't help myself. Every ounce I had of strength and dignity just vanished. I felt my knees go out from under me and the only thing keeping me from collapsing to the floor was Darry's grip on me. I cried into Darry's shirt and forced myself to not look at Soda. He could be dying in there for all we know.

I don't know how long it was before the doctors came out of Soda's room. Minutes? Hours? It all blurred together. They couldn't save Soda and I'll never see him again. I'm too young to lose so m

The doctors and nurses filed out of Soda's room and I braced myself for the worst. This is it. I thought. They couldn't save Soda and I'll never see him again. I'm too young to lose so many people. He's too young to die…

"Mr. Curtis?" A doctor who I recognized at Dr. Wilson approached Darry and I. Darry unwrapped his arms from me, but still kept a firm hand on my shoulder to keep me from collapsing. I looked up at him and was surprised to see that his eyes had a faint mist over them. Had Darry been crying?

"Soda is fine," Dr. Wilson continued. "His heart did not stop. He experienced a brief period of bradycardia, which is a heartbeat of under sixty beats per minute, which was too slow. His blood pressure dropped too low because of this, which set off his heart monitor. Low blood pressure is typical for some to experience after surgery. One of our nurses gave him medicine through his IV to keep his blood pressure at a normal level. We wouldn't want to give him a sedative because of the anesthesia he was just on, but if he wakes up in distress, please let us know so we can help him. Any questions?"

"No, no thank you doctor," Darry said, more composed than I was. Even though Dr. Wilson had said that Soda was fine, tears were still streaming down my cheeks. I didn't even make an attempt to wipe them away, because I knew it was no use. Seeing Soda like that had scared me so bad that I could not stop crying.

"Let's go see in and see Soda, okay?" Two-Bit had said, with Steve standing behind him. Oh yeah, in the midst of my panic I must have forgotten that they were here. I hoped they would be nice enough to not tease me about bawling like a baby in the middle of a crowded hospital hallway.

Darry kept a hold of me as we walked back into Soda's room. I wasn't sure what I expected Soda to look like, but he looked the same as before. He looked so peaceful, that I wasn't even sure Soda knew what was had happened to him. I doubted it, and for his sake, that was probably a good thing. One less person to worry.

Darry crouched over Soda and pushed a few stray hairs off of his forehead. "Please, Pepsi-Cola, please don't scare us like that ever again. I don't think my own heart can take it."

Soda opened his eyes and blinked them sleepily. "Somethin' wrong Dare?"

"No, Sodapop, no. Everything is fine. Go back to sleep."

Soda closed his eyes and fell back into a deep sleep. I was glad that he didn't seem agitated when he woke up because I didn't want the doctors to give him anymore medicine that would make him sleep more.

"Hey kid?" Steve's voice interrupted my thoughts. "You ain't lookin' so good. Do you wanna sit down?"

Damn, if Steve was being nice to me then I must have not looked too good. I quietly excused myself and headed down the hallway to find a bathroom. I found one of those bathrooms that only fits one person at a time, so I shut the door and locked it behind me. Nothing is worse than having someone walk in on you when you're trying to do your business.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I realized that Steve was right for once. I did look bad. My ungreased hair was falling in my eyes and my tired eyes resembled those of a zombie. I don't remember the last night I got a good night's sleep. The last time I can recall myself looking so bad was when I got home from Windrixville and Johnny was dying in this hospital.

I finished up in the bathroom and headed over to the elevators. I wasn't ready to go back to Soda's room. Not yet. Not when I had another agenda in mind.

I got off at the floor I wanted and headed down the hall. I knew exactly where I was going. I was going back to the room where Johnny died in. Back to when everything changed and would never be the same again.

I was glad there was no patient in the room, just a nurse who exited with a bundle of sheets in her arms. I didn't need anyone looking at me right now.

Everything was in the same place as it was five months ago. The same skinny hospital bed was in the center of the room, the same ugly wallpaper covered the walls, the same lifesaving medical equipment in the corner of the room. I could picture everything as it unfolded just as it happened that one horrible, horrible night. Johnny lying there, burned so badly he couldn't move, using his last breath to tell me to stay gold. Johnny closing his eyes, never to be opened again. Dallas punching the wall and leaving me alone in the hospital to go on his death mission. Dallas not be seen again until he was gunned down by the cops. Two friends, two deaths, one night.

I'm so sick of death. I'm sick of death ruining everything for me. My parents should be here. Johnny and Dallas should be here. And Soda, well, he was knocking on death's door. I know that I can't handle another person I loved dying.

I got back quickly to Soda's room. I already felt guilty for leaving him for my own selfish agenda. If that was me in that hospital bed, I know Soda wouldn't leave my side. The only thing I could do now was to do the same for him. I hope that was enough.