Chapter 3 – Dying in Your Arms Tonight
Soda laid staring at the ceiling, his side aching almost as much as his head. Steve had taken Ponyboy down to the cafeteria for some food, despite neither one being hungry. Soda had a feeling that Steve was going to call Two-Bit and Tim too. Since Dally's death, Tim had resigned to being Jax's keeper. Whenever Jax wasn't at their house for more than a day or two, Tim would hunt her down, normally finding her asleep at Buck's with one of Dally's old tee-shirts clutched in her hands. His death was hard on all of them, but she took it hardest of all.
He thought back to the first time he met Dally. It had been only about four years ago, but it felt like a lifetime ago.
It was a typical fall morning when Soda heard someone knocking on the front door. No one ever knocked, Steve, Johnny, and Two-Bit always just strolled right on in, and while it annoyed their father when people came crashing through the front door at all hours, he'd rather those boys be safe under his roof than running amuck getting up to god only knows what. What made that morning special was the fact that Soda was the first one up, on a Saturday nonetheless. Normally, Soda loved to sleep in. Being only a few weeks shy of thirteen, Soda was always staying up too late and enjoyed his lazy Saturday mornings.
He glanced at the clock and sighed. It was just after 7 and his father had already left for work. Soda knew better than to wake his mother up so early unless someone was dying or something was on fire, so instead, he padded over to the door and pulled it open, nearly falling over when he saw Jax and a blonde boy who looked sicker than a dog standing in front of him.
"I need your mom's help," Jax breathed out quickly, pulling the boy in after her. "Soda, please."
Soda blinked owlishly at her for a moment before screaming for his mother as Jax lowered the unknown boy onto his family's sofa.
"Soda, what on God's green earth are you hollering about?" Darry's voice traveled down the hall.
"Jax needs Mom!" Soda said quickly, rushing into the room his parents shared.
Jax was stroking the blonde-haired boy's cheek when Martha, followed by all three of her boys, walked into the living room.
"Jax, it's been so long, honey," she said softly. "Who's this?"
"Dally. Dallas Winston. He's my friend and his dad hurt him real bad," Jax said quickly. The boy, Dally, looked ready to die right there and then. "Please help."
Martha didn't hesitate. She jumped right into action, patching Dally up and telling him if he ever needed a place to stay, he was more than welcome to use their couch.
After Dally was soundly sleeping, with Soda watching him like a hawk, Martha motioned for Darry to take Ponyboy outside while she grabbed Jax's elbow, leading her into their brightly lit kitchen.
"I need to know what happened, Jacklyn," Martha said sternly.
"His dad got drunk," she said softly. "He hurt him like that. He came limpin' in my front door and I knew…I knew my dad would…" Jax burst into tears. "We only just got here last night," she went on, her voice getting louder and louder as she explained. "They stayed at Buck's place, told Mr. Winston he'd find him some work in the morning, but, but,"
"Shh, shh, honey, I didn't mean to make you cry," Martha soothed. "Your daddy has a lot on his plate with Jessebelle and now with you and the little one at home. I'm not mad you came here, actually, I'm quite relieved you did. Your friend is safe here, you know that, right?"
"I didn't know where else to go," Jax sobbed. "Dally's…Dally's like a brother to me too, ma'am, I couldn't…I just didn't know…"
Martha pulled Jax in for a hug. Jax only ever called anyone ma'am when she was scared out of her mind.
"You did the right thing, Jax, don't you fret. Any friend of yours or my boys is a friend of mine."
She meant it too, Soda thought as he listened to his mother comfort his lifelong friend. He'd known Jax since they were in diapers and his mom always made sure Jax was okay, just like she did Steve and Two-Bit and Johnny. He looked down at the skinny, pale blonde resting peacefully on his couch and couldn't help but wonder where he came from. The deep bruises around his eyes were scary and Soda felt his heart tug at the thought of anyone's parent hurting them like that.
"Stop starin'," the boy muttered weakly, forcing one eye open.
"Sorry," Soda said, a small smile tugging on his lips.
"You think any harder, your head might explode," Steve chuckled as he and Ponyboy strolled back into the room. "Whatcha thinking about anyhow?"
"The first time Jax brought Dally over," Soda said softly, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "She's always been that way – lookin' out for us, you know?"
"Yeah, like the time she got me back to your place when my dad took a belt to me," Steve nodded. Jax had wrapped him up in a thick blanket and hauled him over to the Curtis', even though it was two in the morning and icy cold outside. She didn't even have a jacket of her own but she made sure he was warm the entire way.
"Or when she nursed us all better when we got the flu last winter," Ponyboy chimed in. "I still remember Darry grumbling and acting like a bear, trying to refuse her help, until she all but pinned him to the bed."
"Speaking of Darry, did they give you an update?" Steve asked, scrubbing his hand over his face.
"Not yet," Soda sighed, leaning back heavily against the pillows. "We can't lose anyone else."
"Nup," Steve agreed, sinking into the seat next to Soda's bed.
"Wait," Pony exclaimed, eyes widening like saucers. "If Jax's dad is uh…dead…and Dare's still in surgery…who's gonna get an update on Jax?" His voice hitched. He hated admitting it, but Jax was the big sister he never knew he needed. She'd been a part of his life since the day he was born. He couldn't remember a single significant moment she wasn't there for. Before she went to New York, she was always looking out for him and taking him with her, no matter what she was up to. Then when she came back, she fell into the same pattern, only with Connor and Johnny in tow too.
"Y'all are family," a voice chimed as the door to Soda's room clicked shut. "I'm not afraid of losing my job to keep y'all in the loop." Grace walked into the room, two clipboards in her arms. "Soda's gonna get moved to a different room, but we have to be quiet about it."
"Why? What's wrong with me?" Soda asked, eyes widening, fear written across his face. His mind was running a mile a minute.
"It's not so much what's wrong with you, as it is what's wrong with Jacklyn," Grace said softly. Steve tensed. He knew as well as the others did that Grace didn't call Jax by her legal name unless things were bad. "You're only gonna be here another night or so. Your doctor wants to make sure your concussion isn't anything to worry about."
"What's wrong with her?" Steve asked, his voice barely audible.
The sound of the fountain in the middle of Central Park jerked her from the darkness that had called her home. She knew this place too well. It was where she said goodbye to her mother the night she went back to Tulsa with Dally and Connor in tow.
She walked down the twisted path, her heart racing in her chest. It was dark, and for the busy city, darkness wasn't something you came across often, if ever. The water flowing made her skin feel even colder than it had before.
"Why am I here?" She wondered aloud. Even in her unconscious mind, she knew being there wasn't good. The last time she was there was right after Dally died.
"I'm so sorry, little fox," her mother's angelic tone called her forward. "It wasn't supposed to end this way."
"What wasn't?" Jax asked into the darkness. "Ma? What wasn't?"
A flash of blinding light caused Jax to fall to her knees as the wind whipped around her, icy rain biting at her skin, leaving her gasping.
"It wasn't supposed to end this way, Jax," a familiar, horribly missed voice echoed through the wind and rain. "I had to go. You need to know that. I had to. I had nothing left to live for."
"You had me," Jax choked out. "Damnit, you had me!"
"Without Johnny…Johnny was my Connor. You said it yourself all those years ago – you'd die for your little brother before you died for anyone else." Jax forced her eyes open, to find the faint silhouette of Dallas Winston himself standing in front of her. "That's why you're here now, isn't it? You died so he didn't have to."
"I'm not dead," Jax growled, her hands balling into fists. "I don't give up. I-I can't be dead. I'm all he's got left."
"Yet here we are," Dally snarled. Dallas Winston, to many, had no heart. He was cold and reckless and fearless. But Jax knew better. The boy standing before her wasn't her best friend. It couldn't be. "You made a horrible mistake tonight, Jackie girl," the voice growled.
At the mention of a long-dead pet name, Jax knew.
"Dad," she breathed out weakly.
"Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner," the voice whooped. "Get it yet? See what you did?"
A flash of blinding light caused Jax to stumbled back once more. This time, a sea of faces of those she'd lost surrounded her, each face wearing the same disgusted, disappointed expression.
Marilyn's flowing ginger hair, her brilliant blue eyes dim and lifeless.
Jessebelle's blonde locks flew in the wind, her face sunken and sickly, her skin grey and lacking any life.
Martha and Darrel's broken features, both wearing a look of disappointment that made Jax's heart hurt.
Johnny Cade; so young, too young to die. Burns riddled his skin, fire beneath his feet.
Dallas Winston, a bullet hole straight through his heart, a jester-like grin on his face as he glared at her, his eyes swimming with rage.
Her father, his once kind face and strong hands twisted and tortured.
And then she saw him. The one person she promised to help no matter what. The big brother she always had, despite the lack of blood between them.
Icy blue eyes looked down at her with sorrow. A once strong set of arms, twisted, mangled. Brown hair flopping without any sign of life.
"Darry," she whispered. Her stomach twisted in an angry knot as her knees gave way.
"Everyone you love dies, Jackie girl, don't you see it? You aren't capable of keeping anyone safe. So you died, so he wouldn't."
A flash of her baby brother's young face flooded her vision before everything seemed to turn to fire. Pain engulfed her as she screamed. And boy did she scream.
An hour prior…
"Administer 20 milligrams of diazepam, and for the love of god, restrain her!" the doctor barked as he tracked Jax's vitals as she flailed and screamed. Her eyes were wide with shock, her face ashen and slick with sweat. She clawed at her arms, her face twisted in sheer fright. Her nails dug into her arms, her face, at her hair. She screamed and thrashed as if her skin was on fire. The heart monitor beeped in erratic intervals, causing the second nurse to push another medication into the IV before the first could get the diazepam through.
"This is what our brother's come home like," the psychiatrists mused. "I told you she wasn't dying, though I'm sure she wishes she was. This is a classic presentation of shellshock."
"Sedate her, before she does any real damage," the doctor growled. The nurses hurried to administer the medication. Once her breathing calmed and her violent outburst ceased, the doctor left the room, a grim expression on his face.
"There's still hope," the psychiatrist said softly to the nurses. "She's young and she has a huge support system from what I can see. Maybe…just maybe…"
Grace had heard enough and knew exactly what she needed to do.
"She'll pull through," Soda said confidently after Grace explained to the trio what was wrong with Jax. "She's pulled through it before."
"This time it's bad, Soda," Grace said solemnly. "I'm not sure if her mind can handle it."
"And Darry?" Pony asked meekly.
"He's out of surgery and in the intensive care unit at the moment. It's still touch and go, but from what I see written on his chart, his doctor is exceptionally optimistic. I don't believe in false hope though," she said softly. "Darry suffered a lot of really dangerous injuries. While the surgery was successful, his heart did stop on the operating table. We won't know if that will leave him with any deficits until he wakes up. If he wakes up."
"We can't lose anyone else," Pony said tearfully, his eyes glassing over with a fresh set of tears.
"I know," Grace sighed, placing a hand on Ponyboy's shoulder. "We're doing everything we can for him and for Jax. Do you believe in God?" the question was directed at everyone, not just Ponyboy.
"Our mom used to drag us to church," Soda said with a slight smile.
"Then I recommend you pray," Grace said gently. "It's in God's hands now. For both of them."