Thank you to everyone who suggested that Ponyboy would do something reckless. I didn't make it intense though like how it was with Dally in the book. This is really laid back compared to that. But I plan to do more with it. This is just a little teaser. I would also like to give thanks to Blue eyed titan99 for helping me with this chapter as well.

Tell me what you think of this chapter, everyone! Thanks!

o-o-o

He couldn't take it anymore. Every part of him felt like it was being crushed and it hurt. His heart was being stabbed over and over again, becoming nothing but ripped-up shreds. Tears were still running down his eyes as he ran home, causing the world around him to become blurry. Cars honked as they passed by him as he ran a tightrope of being hit by a vehicle and the side of the road.

How could Archer do this to him? He thought that he liked him or, at the very most, cared about him. They were friends… at least he thought they were. After everything that they've been through together, it only made sense. He certainly felt close to him. They had so many moments together—comforting, protecting, and having fun with each other. But it turned out to only be just one big, fat lie and that was the most painful part of it. Archer betrayed him and stabbed him in the back after he had given him his full trust.

But, then again, he should have seen the rejection coming. Ponyboy was a fool. A huge fool. He was so naïve. Like hell would Archer like him back. He was disgusting, after all. His brothers were disgusted with him and so was most of the school. Archer and everyone but his brothers in the gang were the only people he had left that accepted him. Now… he was feeling lonelier than ever before.

While he was running, his foot got trapped behind his ankle, sending his body forward. His eyes widened as his body painfully crashed against the asphalt, skidding. A red-hot, burning sensation spread across his exposed skin which tore a bit upon the impact. But it didn't hurt. Nothing could hurt more than his heart. He could hardly even feel the cold, winter air that nipped at his nose as well. Instead, the only thing that felt cold was his chest. It was a cold that was so freezing that it was unbearable.

Ponyboy, clawed at the asphalt, feeling the dirt that was on it become stuck in his nails. He looked up towards the cloudy sky, letting out a visual, shuttering breath. It was probably going to snow soon, he realized.

A loud honk told him that he couldn't stay there on the side of the road. He shakily got to his feet, knees feeling weak as if he were about to collapse again. He stumbled home, become more and more numb as he got closer to his house that he didn't want to return to.

Reluctantly, he opened the front door, already hearing Soda's and Darry's chatter from somewhere in the house. Taking a deep breath, Ponyboy walking inside, closing the door behind him. Instantly, the conversation stopped, and he knew what was coming for him. He lowered his eyes to prevent his face from fully being on display. He knew that he looked like a wreck.

"What are you doing back early?" Darry's voice suddenly asked, causing Ponyboy to flinch violently. Here it comes. He wished that the house was empty because he didn't want to deal with his brothers right now. "School isn't out yet."

"I'm in a lot of pain," Ponyboy quietly answered.

"That's not an excuse to skip school! You were probably out with that faggot, weren't you?"

Irritation and frustration instantly built up within Ponyboy. He dug his nails into his palms, gritting his teeth. Every single day was the same and he was sick of it. For once, he wanted his brothers to get their heads out of their asses and just let him take a breather. Maybe even actually be there for him. It was always about Archer and him being gay. Ponyboy hated it so much.

"Can you just leave me alone for once in your goddamn life?!" Ponyboy snapped, causing Darry to become red in the face.

"Watch your damn language, you fag" he retorted, storming up to Ponyboy until he was mere inches away from him. Darry towered over him intimidatingly, but Pony didn't back down. He was too angry to.

That word. That fucking word. He hated that word. He despised it before, but now, because he was just rejected, he hated it a thousand times more.

"Fuck you," Ponyboy spat, glaring up at Darry despite displaying his puffy, red eyes.

"Ponyboy!" Soda screamed, causing Pony to flinch again. "You're getting out of control! What would our parents think about you?"

Not this again. Why do they always have to bring up their parents? His jaw was starting to hurt with how hard he was grinding down his teeth. It was a mistake to go home. He knew that his brothers were home and he knew that they were going to yell at him. Why was everything he did wrong? "Why can't you worry about me? I'm dealing with so much and all I want is for someone to be there for me; for my brothers to listen to me without blaming me for being gay. I want my brothers back."

"And I want my brother back as well." Soda's eyes were cold, causing Ponyboy to shutter.

"Why can't you accept the fact that I'm gay? It's me. You always told me that you would always love me no matter what."

"Yeah, but not that." Soda moved an outstretched hand in a small circle as a way to gesture his entire body.

Ponyboy scoffed. "So, you were lying to me. It seems like everyone's been lying to me these days."

He hated liars. He thought this, but he knew that he was one of the biggest liars yet. And he hated himself, that was no lie.

"I guess I did," Soda grumbled.

Pony felt his nails break through the skin on his palms. He couldn't stand talking to them. He was going to blow up on them and he just didn't have the energy to do that. What he needed was a private place—a place where he could just curl up in a ball and comfort himself.

"I see…" was all Ponyboy said before he turned around to head back out the door.

A hand grabbed his wrist. "Hold it! You're not going anywhere!" Darry declared, but Ponyboy just stared at him blankly. He ripped his arm away, pushing Darry back as hard as he could. Stumbling backward, his older brother looked at him shocked at the sudden aggressive behavior. Ponyboy had never done that before.

"Don't ever touch me."

Before Darry or Soda could say another word, Ponyboy swung open the front door and stormed outside, slamming it behind him.

As soon as the door was closed, he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs. It was a random urge, but he felt like it would allow him to let all of his emotions out. He also wanted to do something. He just wasn't sure what yet. At first, Ponyboy wanted to find a private place, but, as soon as he left his house, he knew that he wanted to do something to distract him until he was all better. He wasn't sure if that was how it worked, but all he knew was that he didn't want to sit around, waiting to be eaten up by his sorrow.

He walked around for a while, not really caring where he was going. He didn't even care if he wandered into Soc territory and got jumped. In a sick, morbid way, he wanted to be jumped because it was something.

Fingers twitching against his leg, he looked around. He had to do something. He didn't want to feel this pain anymore. He wanted to feel free and light instead of being squished by the world. But what would do the job?

"Curtis!" he heard the familiar voice of Curly Shepard yell at him. Ponyboy froze in his spot, suddenly hyperaware of his disheveled appearance. He probably looked like a wreck. Pony's eyes were still puffy, and he was all scratched up from falling before. As quickly as he could, he tried to fix his appearance, but it didn't matter anyway because in a second, Curly was right in front of him.

"Hey, Curly," Ponyboy answered, voice sounding nasally with how plugged up his nose was. He looked down, but that didn't mean that Curly didn't notice his appearance. As soon as he saw the state that he was in, his eyebrows scrunched up together

"Geez, what happened to you?"

Frowning, Ponyboy took a step backward to create more room between the two of them. "It's nothing."

Please just let it go, Ponyboy prayed. Of course, he didn't though.

"You've been crying."

That statement had an instant effect on Ponyboy. As soon as Curly uttered that sentence, he became rigid. The taunts that he heard in school right after he was rejected popped up in his head. Ponyboy clenched his jaw, growling. "I wasn't crying!"

"Well, it looks like you did."

"No! I wasn't crying, you hear? I wasn't! I wasn't—"

Before he could continue, Curly cut him off. "Alright! You're weren't crying," Curly gave up, knowing that something was definitely wrong with the other greaser. Ponyboy, although had his moments, was one of the most down-to-earth people that he had ever met. Usually, his anger spurts were about Darry, but this time was different. "What happened?"

Glaring, Ponyboy huffed, "I told you it's nothing!"

It obviously wasn't. Curly sighed. "Seriously, Curtis. Tell me what's wrong."

"No."

Curly dragged his hands through his hair in irritation. This was a lot more difficult than it seemed. He really wasn't cut out to comfort someone like this—especially someone who is as emotional and stubborn as Ponyboy was.

Suddenly, an idea popped up in his head. If he didn't think that he could help Ponyboy with his words, maybe letting him blow off steam through activities would. It was worth a shot. "Listen," Curly started. "I was heading out to go meet up with some of my friends. Want to come along?"

At first, Ponyboy was going to reject him. Curly was no good to be around. He was trouble. He knew better than to get too involved with a Shepard because it always ended up in a catastrophe. But then he involuntary thought about Archer. There was a pang in his chest, remembering that he wanted to do something to distract him. Curly was a wild teen. He knew that whatever he had in mind was going to be just what he needed to let everything out.

"That would be great actually," Ponyboy agreed, flashing a weak, wry smile.

o-o-o

Ponyboy didn't know where Curly was leading him, but, soon enough, they were standing outside of a store. Outside of the store, waiting for them, was a group of hoodlum-looking people that were around his age. They were all lounging around, having a smoke. As soon as they saw them, they shot up to their feet, backs hunched forward as they walked over.

"Who's he?" one of them asked, gesturing to Ponyboy with a quick nod in his direction.

"I'm Ponyboy," Pony answered before Curly could. Right when he said his name, their faces lit up in recognition.

"The gay kid!" another resounded. Ponyboy cringed at that, looking down at his feet in shame. He shouldn't feel ashamed of his sexuality because it was normal and a part of who he was, but he couldn't help it. Time after time, he was told that being gay was bad and many people already despised him because of it. They were probably going to make fun of him or maybe even attack him. But to his surprise, that didn't happen. "Are you going to join us?"

Shooting his head up in surprise, Ponyboy looked at the group in front of him with bewilderment. Instead of having disgusted expressions, their faces were calm and accepting, something he missed. He nodded his head feverishly. "Yeah, I am."

"He looked like he needed to get his mind off of something," Curly added, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

A guy who had badly drawn tattoos that were littered across his arm grinned at him. "Well it's a good thing that we're good at doing that," he chuckled, voice deep. He ruffled his dark hair, and for a moment Ponyboy thought that he saw him wink suggestively at him. But that was probably just his brain playing tricks on him.

"What do we have planned?" Ponyboy asked.

"We are going to go into that store," Curly answered, pointing over to the building that they were in front of.

That meant shoplifting. Ponyboy licked his chapped lips, nodding his head. He had shoplifted plenty of times before with the gang. He wasn't some stranger to it. But he couldn't help but feel a mixture of anxiety and adrenaline pump through his veins, almost overwhelming his preexisting sorrow.

They entered the store soon afterward, walking through the aisles. Ponyboy wasn't sure what he was supposed to grab, so he walked over to the cashier in hopes to distract him instead.

"Can I help you?" the employee asked, looking up from his magazine that he had been leafing through.

"Yeah. I was wondering if I could get a pack of cigarettes," Ponyboy responded with as straight of a face as he could muster. He hoped that his eyes weren't still red from all of the crying that he did.

The employee raised an eyebrow at him. "Aren't you a bit too young to buy cigarettes?"

Mirroring the cashier's facial expression, Pony leaned his hip against the side of the counter. "Aren't you too careless to be working here?" This conversation… It reminded Ponyboy about all of the playful banters that he had with Archer. At the thought of him, his heart clenched painfully. This wasn't working at all. He wanted a distraction from the pain, but helping people shoplift wasn't cutting it. He clenched his teeth, gripping his shirt over where his heart was.

"Excuse me?"

Ponyboy snapped his attention back to the employee. "I'm just saying. If your manager saw all of the broken glass that's right outside the entrance, he would be really angry at you. I almost had my feet shredded up because of it. Talk about a lawsuit." It was a lie. There was no glass outside of the store, but he knew that it would make the employee nervous. "If only I had some cigarettes to keep my mouth shut."

Nervousness was exactly what happened. The employee bit his bottom lip, eyes flickering to the window before turning back to Ponyboy. He forced a tense smile onto his face, turning his back to the group of teenagers that were currently stuffing items into their jackets. "Which one would you like?"

"Um… Give me a pack of Camels."

Grumbling, the employee grabbed a pack, about to turn around, when Ponyboy corrected himself. "Actually, never mind. I want Marlboro instead."

He had to keep the employee turned away from everyone for as long as he could. Behind him, some of the people that he was with started to file out of the store, although some still stayed behind to grab more stuff.

"Marlboro…" the employee muttered beneath his breath, as he put the pack back to grab the correct one. He took it off of the rack, again about to turn around.

"Wait," Ponyboy corrected. "One more time… But can I have a pack of Kools instead?"

Annoyed at that point, the employee ripped the pack off of the rack and spun around. But before he could completely do that, Ponyboy pushed the tip jar over the employee's side of the counter. The glass shattered against the floor, the shrilling sound reverberating inside of the quiet store. The cashier cursed up a storm as he bent down to pick up the glass shards so that he wouldn't accidentally step on them.

"Sorry," Ponyboy apologized.

"Be more careful," the cashier warned.

Ponyboy looked behind him as the last of the people that he was with exited the store, carrying so much stuff under their coats that it was obvious that they were shoplifting. He was then glad that he pushed the jar over the counter because the employee would have definitely caught them.

He should get going as well.

"So, for the pack of cigarettes, you owe me—" the cashier started but Ponyboy cut him off.

"Actually, I changed my mind. I don't want it anymore." Even though he did (he was dying for a smoke) he knew that Curly probably wasn't going to wait for him for that long. "I'm sorry about the tip jar."

With that, Ponyboy left the store, finding Curly and his friends waiting for him nearby.

"And he's back!" one of them announced, a huge grin plastered on their face.

"We got such a haul because of you," another said as they revealed everything that they had stollen—spray paint, masks, and bottles of alcohol.

"Spray paint?" Ponyboy asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

"We're planning on leaving our mark."

"You like drawing, don't you?" Curly asked and Ponyboy nodded, putting the pieces together. The spray paint was for graffitiing. He had never used spray paint before. It was completely different than drawing, but he could probably manage. "I thought that this would help you… you know… to cope and all."

He wasn't really close to Curly. They hung out a few times and he was known for having an aloof, tuff personality. It was really strange to see this side of him. This was all for him… Curly probably had different plans that day, but he changed them so that he would feel better. "Thank you," Ponyboy uttered gratefully.

The group of them stuffed themselves into a car which one of them had brought. They drove, music blasting from the radio, for a few minutes. Ponyboy zoned out the entire drive, something that was easily noticed by everyone who was loudly joking around. Ponyboy stuck out like a sore thumb.

The car stopped in front of an abandoned building. It towered over them, windows shattered from previous people walking by and throwing rocks at it. They got out of the car, all of the items that they stole were in their arms. Ponyboy gulped.

"Where are we?" he questioned.

"Some abandoned building," Curly replied as if what he had asked was a dumb question. Ponyboy shot him a look. No duh it was an abandoned building. "There's this spot on the roof that we like to go to."

The roof? Ponyboy looked up as they started to walk towards the entrance. It was really high up…

The inside of the building was just as beat-up as it was on the outside. It was almost creepy with how dark it was. They walked up all of the flights of stairs until they found the door that led to the roof. As soon as it opened, a gust of wind hit Ponyboy, sending chills down his spine. He walked out onto the roof, seeing the entire view of the city which was starting to light up as it was getting closer to nighttime. The view was breathtaking, but he would have appreciated it more if it wasn't so windy and cold out.

The group put everything onto the ground in front of a blank, concrete wall.

"Let's get this party going!" one of them cheered as he opened up a bottle of vodka. He instantly passed it over to Ponyboy who just stared at it. "You need this the most right now."

"I—" Ponyboy was going to reject it. He had tried alcohol before, and it didn't taste good at all.

"Come on! Drink up!"

Oh, man… Hesitantly, Ponyboy lifted the bottle up to his lips, the strong smell of the vodka caused him to scrunch up his nose in disgust. He didn't want to drink, but at the same time, he did. Archer was still fresh in his mind and he would do anything to get him off of it. Two-Bit was always drunk and happy. Maybe he could be happy too if he was as well.

"I don't think that your brothers would want you to drink," Curly pointed out, causing Pony to glare at the other greaser. That confirmed if he was going to drink or not.

Fuck what his brothers thought.

With that, he took a long swig of the vodka straight out of the bottle. The drink burned his throat as he struggled to swallow it down. Cheers erupted around him as people patted his back. More bottles of alcohol opened as they all drank until they were tipsy. It didn't take long for Ponyboy to get to that point—especially with how strong vodka was. A bag of cocaine was placed in front of them, causing Ponyboy to frown. He was getting in way over his head, but, as he watched as it was poured into a line, he knew that he wanted to do it. He wanted to feel happy again and being on drugs might just help him feel alive again.

He shouldn't depend on drugs and alcohol to make him happy. He was definitely going to regret it later. Besides, Archer wouldn't want him to do this… Or did he? He seemed to not care about Ponyboy's wellbeing when he confessed to him. He probably was fine with him dying. Ponyboy bit his lip hard until it started to bleed. The taste of iron mixed with the vodka. Tears were welling up in his eyes again, but he refused to let them fall. He couldn't cry in front of these people. They would make fun of him and he had enough of that.

Why couldn't he forget about Archer? He had stabbed him in the back, but he guessed that it just left behind a gnarly scar that constantly reminded him of the Soc. He took another swig of the vodka, cringing at the taste again.

"Let me have a go," Ponyboy volunteered. The people there looked surprised but handed him the roll of paper anyways.

"Are you sure about this, Curtis?" Curly asked.

Ponyboy gritted his teeth. "Yes. Now, let me do what I want to do without anyone getting in the way."

Before Curly could stop him, he put the roll in front of one of his nostrils, closing the other one with his finger as he bent forward to the line of cocaine. His heart hammered against his chest in nervousness as the wind blew around them. Today wasn't a great day to snort cocaine but he was glad that all of them were surrounding the drug as windbreakers. He counted down in his head before breathing in. The drug stung behind his eyes causing him to reel back. His eyes watered involuntarily. His nose scrunched up, feeling like he was going to sneeze but just couldn't. But that was about it. Other than watery eyes and an urge to sneeze, he felt nothing. Ponyboy then realized that he probably had to wait for the cocaine to kick in. He had hoped that it was going to be pretty instant. Ponyboy sighed in disappointment, taking another drink. This time, it wasn't as bad as his first two sips. It was pretty bearable. He took another swig and relaxed as everyone was getting the drug into their systems.

"Let's get painting!" someone whooped at one point.

Ponyboy got to his feet, wobbling a bit. He didn't know how much time had passed since he had snorted the cocaine, but he guessed that it was long enough for it to start kicking in. Or maybe he was just getting drunk because he had lost count of how many sips he had taken already. It was probably both though. His mind was starting to haze over as his sadness and thoughts of Archer were beginning to become replaced by a giddy, excited feeling that caused him to giggle. It was strange though. Even though he was hit with a wave of happiness, he still felt numb on the inside.

Grabbing a bottle of spray paint, he approached the wall. He wasn't sure what he was going to paint, but he didn't care about that. He just started without a care in the world. Putting his mask on, he raised up his arm and pressed down on the release button. The color red exploded across the wall. He wasn't able to concentrate clearly as he continued painting, the alcohol causing his vision to be slightly skewed, making his work sloppy. Colorful lines upon colorful lines spread across the wall until the bottle he was using ran out of paint.

He backed away from the painting to see the full picture and his breath hitched in his throat. He somehow, through his drunk state, drew a face. It wasn't one that he recognized but it had a disturbing and twisted expression. A line of spray paint covered where the eyes were supposed to be, but he still knew that they were sad.

A whistle behind him caused him to turn around. However, he spun too fast and found his knees crumpling underneath him. A laugh erupted from his lips as he found that him falling was the most hilarious thing ever for some strange reason. He looked up when a hand was outstretched towards him. It was the guy with the tattoos. Ponyboy took it, taking another sip of the vodka.

"That's a nice painting," the guy with tattoo complimented.

Ponyboy smiled from ear to ear. "I think it's supposed to be a monkey," he slurred in a hushed tone.

"Well, whatever it is, it's a masterpiece, obviously." He pulled Ponyboy up to his feet, holding tightly so that he wouldn't fall down again. "My name is Gary."

"It's nice to—" His knees buckled again, but, before he could fall, Gary caught him. The other greaser pulled him closer to his body, wrapping an arm around his waist, cold fingers somehow managing to get under his sweatshirt. Pony shuttered but not in a good way. Gary didn't let go of him and if Ponyboy was in the right state of mind, he would have pushed him off, knowing that something was off about him. But, of course, he wasn't so he let him continue holding onto him.

"You drank too much." The bottle of vodka was snatched out of his hands, causing Ponyboy to whine, trying to grab it back with grabby hands.

"No… Give it back…" Ponyboy pleaded.

Gary shook his head. "Come on, you need to sober up."

"No… I don't want to become sober…" He staggered on his feet, still trying to grab the bottle which Gary held just out of his reach. "I want to stay drunk forever. It feels nice."

"Ponyboy, you're so drunk and you don't know how easy it is for me with you like this."

Ponyboy wasn't sure what he was talking about. The red flags that were supposed to be waving were clouded by a deep haze. "Give it back!"

He jumped, slipping out of Gary's hold. Gary moved away, causing Ponyboy to fall forward, tripping over his feet. The edge of the roof came into view, mere inches away from him. He didn't know that he was so close to the edge. His scratched-up palms slammed against the floor as his head peeked over the ledge. The ground spun beneath him, seeming miles away from him. For what seemed like a long moment, he just looked down to the ground beneath him. He wondered what it was like to fall. Would he feel weightless? Would all of his problems leave him? Would people be glad that he was gone? Probably. His brothers sure would. So would Archer…

He shouldn't be thinking about these things because of Archer. But he just couldn't help it. He was one of the few people that were keeping him going after losing so much. He subconsciously leaned forward more. So much so that one small push or gust of wind would knock him over the ledge. Everything was spinning, making him feel so dizzy that it made his stomach turn. Snow started to gracefully fall around him. If he were to fall, would he be like a snowflake?

A hand grabbed his shoulder, yanking him backward away from the ledge. A tattooed arm wrapped around his waist again, warm breath disgustingly brushing against his neck. Ponyboy squirmed in the hold. It wasn't Archer. He only wanted Archer to hold him.

"You shouldn't be by the ledge," Gary whispered into his ear. "Maybe we should just get out of here together. What do you say?"

"No, I'm good," Ponyboy rejected, trying to push away but the hold around him only got tighter.

"Come on… I can make you forget about your problems."

Ponyboy shook his head, feeling faint. "Please, leave me alone."

"I'll treat you real good."

"Stop." He tried to swat him away, but it was futile.

Fortunately, before Gary could make any more moves, Curly stepped between them, forcefully separating them. He had warily watched the two of them ever since Gary approached Ponyboy. Even though he was also drunk, that didn't make him blind to the advancements that the tattooed greaser was trying to make, and he didn't like it one bit.

Curly hardly knew Gary. He just met him a few days ago. In some moments, he was a really tuff but fun person to be around. But sometimes, he just made him question all of that. However, seeing Gary go after Ponyboy in his disoriented, drunk state, confirmed his suspicions.

"We should probably get you back home, Curtis," he interrupted, earning a glare from Gary which he ignored.

"But I don't want to go home," Ponyboy whined.

"No, Curtis. You need to go home." He hoped that he would take the hint, but all Ponyboy did was grumble beneath his breath, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"I can take him home," Gary volunteered but Curly shook his head, narrowing his eyes.

"You don't know where he lives." He just needed to get Ponyboy out of there before he could go after him and teach him a lesson. Reluctantly, Gary nodded and helped Curly bring Ponyboy down back to the car. They drove wildly, weaving around the road. The only person that was sober was Gary but Curly wasn't going to let him drive. So, as a result, they were trusting an intoxicated person to drive them. However, Ponyboy started to feel sick to his stomach from how unstable the driving was. He could feel the bile rise up his throat, threatening to escape his mouth. He was going to throw up. Ponyboy tried his best to hold it in, hugging his stomach like his life depended on it. But, soon enough, he just couldn't take it anymore.

"Pull over," he ordered.

"What? Why?" the driver asked. He didn't want to stop driving.

"I'm going to throw up soon. So, unless you want vomit on your car seats…"

That was enough of a warning for the driver. The guy slammed on his breaks in front of a park, which didn't help Ponyboy's stomach one bit. He stumbled out of the car and instantly let out the throw up that he had been holding in, feeling it burn his throat.

"Gross…" he heard someone say behind him. "He's going to make me sick."

Feeling a bit better after he finished throwing up, Ponyboy looked up, wiping the leftover bile on his chin with his sleeve. He still felt really sick though and wanted to continue throwing up until he felt better. "You know what?" Ponyboy groaned. "I think I'm going to walk back home from here."

"Are you kidding me?" Curly began. "It's snowing and you're drunk."

"It's fine. I think my house is close by anyway." He wasn't really sure where he was, but he tried shooing them away still. They all looked reluctant to be leaving him behind, but the driver just shrugged. He didn't care that much about Ponyboy.

"Whatever. Let's go," the driver said.

The car drove off and Ponyboy stood up, weakly making his way to the swing set. He plopped himself down on it, gently swinging himself back and forth, the cold making his hands red. Slowly, he started to become more aware and the pain started to return. He wished that he snagged more liquor before he exited the car.

But one thing came out of it. He was finally alone. He could have gone back home like he had said he would, but he didn't want to go back because he would rather freeze to death than go back.

Tears welled up in his eyes again. It hurt and all he wanted was the pain to end. He swung up higher, despite his stomach turning in displeasure. Higher and higher he swung. Everything was moving fast around him until he just let go. The swing left him as he jumped off of it, eyes glazed over as the world around him went in slow motion. He felt weightless and free. Ponyboy faced the cloudy sky, watching the snowflakes fall ever so slowly. As he was falling towards the ground, he felt free of everything, but that only lasted for a second.

Before his back hit the ground, warm arms wrapped around him, catching him.

"Shit," he heard a familiar voice curse. "What were you thinking, kid?"

Ponyboy focused his eyes and saw Dally, Steve, Johnny, and Two-Bit looming over him. When did they get here?

o-o-o

Dally, Steve, Two-Bit, and Johnny walked inside of the Curtis house. School had ended a couple of hours ago and they hung out a bit after that, joining up with Dally along the way, before going over to invite Ponyboy along. He probably wouldn't come along with them since he was always with Archer these days, but they were still going to ask.

Inside of the house, Darry and Soda were talking amongst each other, pointing at a flyer that they couldn't read from where they were standing.

"Hey, where's Ponyboy? Two-Bit asked. At that name, Darry's and Soda's face darkened.

"He's out," Soda answered, rolling his eyes. "He's doing what he wants to do."

"What do you mean by that?" Johnny questioned.

"He means that he's been acting out. First by being gay, then cursing us out and shoving us," Darry replied, growling. The rest of the gang looked at them in shock. Ponyboy did that? That didn't sound like him at all. It didn't make any sense. Ponyboy wouldn't hurt a fly unless he had to. They exchanged looks. Something had to be wrong for him to do that.

"Did he tell you where he went?" Steve asked.

"No, it's not like we care anyways."

Staying and trying to get information out of them was useless. For what they knew, Ponyboy was in trouble. They were just wasting valuable time. The four of them hurriedly left the house, not really sure where to start looking for Ponyboy. It was snowing so they had to hurry because chances were, he was outside. They started to run down the street, hoping to find him as soon as possible. Fortunately, they didn't have to run very far. He was already nearby at a park. They saw his silhouette from far away, swinging on a swing.

"What is doing?" Dally asked but nobody answered him. They ran faster, getting really close. They were about to call out to him, but that's when they saw him jump off of the swing and it didn't seem like he wanted to try to land it. He was falling and they were running as fast as they could towards him.

Suddenly, Steve dove forward, catching Ponyboy into his arms just in time. "Shit, what were you thinking, kid?" he hissed. But when Ponyboy looked at him with unfocused, teary eyes, he definitely knew that something happened to him. He could smell alcohol on his breath, causing his eyes to narrow. "Were you drinking?"

"I wasn't drinking," Ponyboy slurred horribly, not doing a very sufficient job at hiding it. "I'm not drunk."

"He's drunk," Dally declared. It was very obvious to them. But why did he drink? That was a question that they wanted to know.

"What happened?" Johnny asked, crouching down as Ponyboy sat up. He looked out of it; extremely depressed. He was worried about his best friend. What could have happened to him for him to resort to drinking and for him to look like that? But Ponyboy didn't speak up. He pressed his lips tightly together as he gazed off into the distance. It was clear that he didn't want to talk about it.

"Let's get him somewhere warm first," Two-Bit suggested to which they all agreed. Steve leaned Ponyboy's body against his back, lifting him up. That was the last thing that Ponyboy remembered before he passed out.