Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.

This chapter is dedicated to Jayla278 for helping me work out some things about Ponyboy's past. Thank you!

If someone you know shows signs of being abused talk to them or an adult. If you're being abused tell someone. If they don't listen, tell someone else. Someone will listen to you.

Wanna be our new Kid Brother?

Chapter Twenty

Ponyboy's POV

When I woke up the next day the first thing I noticed was the silence. In the week I had stayed at the Curtis house I knew the house was almost never quiet. I cautiously walked out of my room and down the hallway. I didn't see anyone. But then the sleepiness left my mind and I remembered Darry telling me both he and Soda had work the next day and I would be alone for awhile. Apparently, the rest of the gang had some plans. No doubt most of them involved some sort of violence or girls, or "broads" as the guys called them. Most likely blondes in Two-Bit's case.

I grabbed a piece of the chocolate cake out of the icebox and poured myself a glass of chocolate milk. Golly, I never knew breakfast could taste this good. Taking a swig of the milk, I pick up the booklet and notebook from yesterday, along with a pencil. Yesterday, we had spent almost three full hours working on the alphabet and their sounds before Darry had to leave for work.

Today, Darry wanted me to write the full alphabet, both capitals and lowercases, three times by the time he gets home. I knew I would have it done in time. He wasn't due to get off until six and I glanced at the clock; it was only eight. At least I knew math. Sometimes, I would have to go to the store and would go by the numbers instead. It was hard, finding the right things, but I managed.

I opened the notebook to a new page and stared at it. The blank paper was so intimidating. It was making fun of me for not being able to read at fourteen years old. I eased the pencil into my hand and made sure the booklet was closed. I would do it by memory until I needed help. I heard the song in my head. Abc's, that's what Darry called it. Gently, I start making the shape of the letter "A" on the page, closely followed by an "a." Then "Bb," "Cc," and eventually it just flows through my hands and onto the page that's no longer blank. It isn't until I hear the letter "Q" in my head that I stop. I remember the uppercase one but can't remember the lowercase. Ashamed, I open the book and glance at the alphabet until I find the letter. I quickly copy it down, then circle it. Darry said to mark any of the letters I miss or forget. Then, I start again with "R." I'm actually doing it.

When I make it to "M" for the third time the door quietly open, and closes with a soft groan. I heard soft footsteps walking into the living room. I knew it wasn't Two-Bit, Soda, or Steve. They couldn't even be quiet. I got up from the table and walked into the living room to see Johnny laying down on the couch, his face hidden.

"Johnny?" I asked, confused. Why would he be here? The rest of the gang was out doing something, probably a lot more fun than sitting at the table, but I didn't care. I was learning to read.

He shifted. "Yeah, Pony?" His face was still hidden.

"You ok?" He turned around then. He had a black eye and his left cheek was a color mixed between purple and blue.

"What happened?" But then I remembered his raspy voice on the day he found out I was hurt, "Ponyboy, I've been hurt. Real bad. My dad beats me a lot. I know what it's like and I know it's not good to hide. Sometimes we need help."

"Your dad?" I guessed. He nodded. I moved over a little so I was sitting next to him. Gently, I traced my finger along his bruised cheek. He winced.

I immediately pulled back. "I'm sorry!"

"Don't be, it's okay. It wouldn't hurt if it wasn't for him," he told me. Him. His dad.

"I'll get you some ice," I said, going back into the kitchen. I grabbed a handful of ice cubes from the freezer and wrapped them in a washcloth. When I came back I carefully place it on his face. Is that what I looked like after I was beaten? Did I look scared and helpless? Did I remind people of a kicked puppy? I almost laugh. What people? No one was there to help me when I needed them. My mom died when I needed her. She finally escaped. But not me. No, I was left with him. "Sometimes we need help," his voice floats back into my mind.

I allow him to take the ice and remove my hand from his face. "Can you tell me what happened?" I asked. Honestly, I was a bit surprised with Johnny. I already knew that he didn't talk much but the day he guessed I had been hurt he had been yelling at me and talking. Now here we were, having another conversation. I think I was the only one he really talked to for this long, and it had only been a few minutes.

"I just went home and my dad was drunk. Again. He saw me and just walked over and hit me a few times. It's nothin' new." So his dad drank, too? I guess mine wasn't the only one. Still, that didn't really help make me feel any better.

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked me, repeating my words, tracing the small scar on my left temple. It may be small but to me it might as well be a neon sign in the theatre. It was another sign that he was real. It wasn't just one of my nightmares. He really happened.

"I-I don't...," I stuttered, not really sure if I wanted to tell him or not. He placed a calming hand on my shoulder and looked at me. I think this is what the gang meant when they said Johnny didn't talk much but he could still be part of the conversation. I knew what he was saying. He was saying that it would be a secret between us; between the two abused kids who might actually be able to understand each other.

"It was two years ago. I was only twelve years old..."

My mom had been really sick for months. I never really knew what was wrong with her. The doctors told us there was nothing they could do so they sent her home. I started to sleep in the chair next to her bed and would hold her hand. Her hands were so weak but every morning she would squeeze mine. But one day, I woke up and she didn't squeeze my hand. She was gone.

I started to sob. "Mom, come back!" She didn't move. She didn't breathe. She didn't do anything.

"Mommy, please!" I begged. Nothing. After a moment I realized she wasn't coming back. I pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead and released her pale hands. "It's okay, Mom. I love you."

He must've heard me crying because the next thing I know he's holding onto my shirt collar and pulling me away from the bed.

"Stop crying, boy!" He yelled.

"She's gone," I whispered. It looked like my statement made it's way across his drunk mind but only for a moment.

"Good. Now she can't give me anymore hell," he told me. I wanted to yell at him. Tell him he's the one that put us through hell. He beat us. He hurt us. We were going through hell. He was just like the devil.

But I didn't. And I regret it every single day.

He dragged me to the living room and started yelling at me. I don't even know what he was saying. My mom just died, for crying out loud!

"She's dead," I said again. The sentence sounded weird on my tongue. Of course, I knew she was going to go at some point but I never knew it would be so soon. He just continued yelling at me, the ever present bottle in his hand.

"She's dead!" I shouted. He was surprised. To be honest, I was, too. I never raised my voice against him. He looked at me and brought his bottle down, connecting it with his face. Then everything went black.

...and everyday after that he would get worst," I finished. Johnny only stared at me. It was then that I noticed I had a few tears trailing down my cheeks. I hastily wiped them away, embarrassed.

He placed his hand on my shoulder again, his eyes holding that same promise. This would remain between the two of us until I wanted to share it with someone else. I didn't know if that would ever happen but it was nice to have someone to keep that secret of mine.

"Sometimes we need help," he told me again, pulling me into a hug.

And that's how Johnny Cade and I became best friends.

I'm sorry about taking so long. My family has been sick and I recently started cross country so I've been pretty busy. Anyway, thank you so much for the reviews. I won't be able to update for a while because I'm going on a vacation before school starts again (ugh.)

Once again, thank you Jayla728 for helping me with this chapter.

— Stay Gold —

Sincerely,

Teenbookworm13