A.N: Thank you to all those who have supported me through this fic so far, you know who you are. I hope you enjoy (if it's possible!) this next chapter.

When you can't see the wood for the trees.

Ponyboy Curtis and Frankie Parker were sitting parked across the street from the old furniture store. They'd followed Ronnie's car first to Tim Shepard's and then downtown to the clapped out old building on the corner of Carson Street.

Christ, Ponyboy's hands were still shaking from the chasing of the Mustang. Ronnie Parker drove like a mad man and it had been all Ponyboy could do to keep up with him. If not for Frankie urging him on from beside him, Pony admittedly might've pulled back and lost them. He'd kept a poker face though, cut in and out of the traffic and apart from a near miss on the intersection, he reckoned he'd done okay.

On Carson Street, Ponyboy had recognised Steve's car and seen Darry and Ronnie disappear round the side of the building. Frankie had wanted to follow them in but Ponyboy had told him they should wait them out and see what happened.

Probably just a minute later, after hearing nothing out of the ordinary, they'd seen Tim Shepard screech to a stop outside. Even in the darkness, Ponyboy knew that slouchy walk anywhere. Tim, in a long brown coat, had moved swiftly around the side of the store.

"What the hell is Shepard doing here?" Frankie had wondered out loud.

Ponyboy didn't know, but he was kind of glad to see him. Tim and the Curtis boys went way back and although they hadn't seen much of him lately, he couldn't believe that Tim would intentionally hurt either Darry or Soda.

Then they'd heard the gun fire.

"Shit, what the hell was that?" Pony had said, pale in the face and remembering the last time he'd heard live gun shots. Dallas.

"Sounded like a shotgun to me." Frankie shifted around in his seat and flicked out a switch blade. Pony went to reach for his own, only to remember that he'd given his to Soda. Christ, Soda and Darry were in there.

"Maybe it was firecrackers," Pony said shakily, wanting to believe it, trying to persuade himself that a gun had not gone off in the same building as his big brothers.

CRACK! Another gun shot.

"That weren't no fire cracker, Curtis." Frankie shook his head uneasily. "I know a gun when I hear one."

Ponyboy felt his mouth grow dry and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He reached into his jacket and pulled out his cigarettes with shaking fingers.

"We gotta go in," Frankie said, reaching for the door handle.

"And do what?" Ponyboy demanded. "You wave your switch about and hope it stops bullets?"

He lit up and puffed fearfully on his smoke, hoping a plan would form in his mind, hoping that an answer would come to him. Running in and getting shot at, as much as it was his instinct, didn't seem like the smartest plan.

"Well, we could call the cops…" Frankie said this hesitantly, being raised on the same values as Ponyboy. Nobody ever called the cops in their neighbourhoods.

"Can't. Not unless we know we have to," Pony said.

Frankie looked at him quizzically and raised his eyebrows.

"Social Services," Ponyboy semi-explained. "Long story."

Frankie took a breath and looked down at his switchblade before looking back at the furniture store.

"You got a blade?"

Ponyboy shook his head.

"What else you got in this truck? Weapon wise?"

Ponyboy reached over and opened the glove compartment. Nothing but a can of de-icer in there. Shit.

"Darry might have some tools in the back," he said. "You really wanna do this?"

When Frankie nodded firmly, Ponyboy reached out and climbed out of the truck. There was an old blanket tossed loosely on the truck bed. They put it there for the guys to sit on if they were going to the lake or the drag races. Maybe there were some tools rolling around underneath. Ponyboy was scrabbling around looking for something- a hammer would be great- when he felt a pair of strong hands on his shoulders and was dragged down and onto the sidewalk.

"Whoah-"

"Shhh!" Frankie hissed, nodding at the side gate to the furniture store. Ponyboy recognised Soda immediately, hurrying towards Steve's car, his face infinitely determined under the glare of the streetlights. In seconds, the engine of the Buick was roaring to life and parked just a little way away, Ponyboy wondered if Soda would notice the Curtis truck.

"What do we do?" Frankie whispered. "Shall we follow him?"

Ponyboy wanted to. But a gun had gone off inside and they hadn't seen if Darry, Two-Bit or Steve were okay yet. He had to assume they were though. Otherwise Soda wouldn't be out here.

"What about Ronnie? And Lily?" Ponyboy asked Frankie. Frankie paused.

"I don't think Lily's in there. Soda wouldn't have left her if she was, would he?"

Frankie made a good point, and even in the current situation, Ponyboy felt a tinge of pride that Soda's loyal character was obvious even to Frankie and despite the Sandy debacle. Soda could be weak when it came to girls he cared about but he was strong as an ox when it came to defending his own.

"Ronnie's a big boy," Frankie said. "Plus he's in there with your other brother. Lily's the one I'm worried about."

Ponyboy didn't need telling twice. He scrambled for the truck and was just restarting the engine when Soda peeled away from the parking space. Soda was a fast driver anyway, Darry was always telling him off for speeding, but there was something much more urgent this time about Soda's driving.

"Hurry up, don't lose him!" Frankie cautioned.

Ponyboy pulled out of his parking space and started off after his brother. He and Frankie had to back Soda in whatever he was doing, but being Soda's only backup was a little frightening.

"You scared?" Frankie was looking at him sideways, no mocking on his face, looking darn serious instead. Ponyboy concentrated on keeping up with Soda, who was driving so recklessly Ponyboy doubted he would notice him if he blew the truck's horn.

"Nah," he answered automatically. It was a lie. He was scared alright. Scared of where Soda was headed, scared he couldn't keep him safe, scared Darry might not be safe.

"Yeah, you are," Frankie responded, but his voice wasn't condescending like Steve's would be, or sympathetic like Soda's would be. His voice was business like. "You gotta get rid of the scared, Curtis. Hanging out with Ronnie used to scare the shit out of me."

Ponyboy jumped a red light as Soda thundered through an amber, hoping to God no cops were around.

"So what'd you do about it?"

"I got mad." Frankie took Ponyboy's teetering cigarette from his finger and flicked the ash out of the open window. "Wasn't easy neither. I'm not an angry kind of guy. So I just started visualising every person and situation that ever pissed me off then put that anger on the guys we were dealing with. People are scared of anger. And anger makes you strong. Much stronger than fear."

Ponyboy didn't know about that. And he didn't know if following Ronnie Parker's prodigy was the smartest move to make. But Ronnie Parker was a hood who wasn't scared of anything.

Ponyboy Curtis was terrified.

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Lily was drifting in and out of consciousness when Fred Daniels finally pulled the Chevy to a stop. He'd hit her twice more since the first blow and the last time she'd cracked her head on the doorframe so hard, she must have passed out. She could feel the warm blood seeping through her hair and although the feeling of sleep was tempting, she couldn't give in to it. She had to stay awake.

"So we can do this any way you like, Parker," Daniels wrenched up the handbrake. "The easy way or the hard way. To tell you the truth, both ways do it for me."

He laughed, a frightening lurid laugh and Lily struggled to keep her eyes open. Where were they? All she could see was trees, lots of trees, as though he'd driven her into the middle of a forest. Why hadn't she kept her mouth shut on the way here? At least worked out where he was taking her?

Daniels got out of the car and slammed the door shut. For a few precious seconds, Lily struggled to free her tied hands but it was no use. She couldn't get free. And then Daniels was opening her car door, dragging her out and pinning her up against the car. His hands were everywhere and the bile rose in her throat as she struggled to maintain some focus. Her vision was blurry and she vaguely wondered how messed up her face was. Maybe her eyes were swollen because she couldn't for the life of her hold them open without squinting.

She didn't recognise where they were. Some kind of forest, she guessed, but who knew where?

"Where'd do you want it then? Back seat or out in the cold?" He was mocking her now, laughing at how helpless she was and at that second, she made a deal with herself that even if he got his way with her, she'd make him pay for it. Even in her frightened desperation she was not going to roll over and play dead.

"Back seat? Do I look like a fucking cheerleader to you?" She snapped. "Come on, you wanna do this, let's do it out in the open."

The glee on his face turned her stomach and she couldn't deny how frightening it was to hear the slur to her own voice. He tossed down his jacket, pushed her down on to it and started to undo his belt.

That was when she started to scream. Her throat was already dry and sore but she screamed like she had never screamed in her life, all the while dragging her sore and bleeding wrists within the rope restraints in the hope she might wriggle free.

Daniels was on her in seconds, clamping a hand over her mouth and ramming a beefy arm into her throat.

"I warned you, Parker. I warned you to shut the hell up or make it worse for yourself." His breath was vile, but when he finally took his hand away, she hocked up all the saliva and blood she could find in her mouth and spat in his face furiously.

He slapped her, and her head rolled back, but his pants were halfway down now and she could feel his erection against her thigh. She pretended to freeze up after the slap was delivered, but instead steeled herself readily until he relaxed some. Then she turned her leg and kneed him directly in the groin.

Daniels groaned loudly, momentarily paralysed, and she went on the offensive, biting into his shoulder, through his shirt and into his flesh. She clung on relentlessly, determined to hurt him and when he shouted and rolled off of her, she finally managed to get one hand free of the rope. It was all she needed, and a second later she was running for her life, into the trees and the darkness, hoping against hope that she got enough of a head start to outrun him.

The only problem was, she had no clue at all where she was.

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