*SODAPOP'S POV*

I held my little brother's hand as we sat down in the doctor's clinic. He was still shaking badly.

"There seems to be a mistake here. . ."

"Yes, his name is Ponyboy Curtis," said Darry. The doctor raised his eyebrows but didn't comment.

"I'd like to take some tests. Could you two leave?"

I felt Pony's grip tighten on my hand and didn't have to look at him to know he was fixing me with a pleading stare. I squeezed his hand back reassuringly, putting an arm around his shoulders.

"Could we possibly stay with him?" inquired Darry politely.

The doctor paused. "Well. . . all right. But it'll take a while."

"We'll wait," I said.

*TWO-BIT'S POV*

I walked into the Curtis house with Steve and Dally, a cancer-stick in one hand and a half-empty bottle of beer in the other. As always, I slammed the door loudly. It rattled on its hinges.

"Anybody home?" Steve called. No answer. We looked at each other.

"Me and Steve'll check Soda's room. Two-bit, check Darry's," Dally said.

I nodded and ran into Darry's room. The bed was neatly made. There was no sign of him. I ran into Soda's room, where Steve and Dally were standing. It was a sharp contrast to the orderly Darry's room. The covers of the bed were thrown back and the room had books and magazines strewn all over the floor.

"Where the hell are all the Curtis's?" I asked, bewildered. We both jumped as the phone rang shrilly. After a second, Steve picked it up.

"Yeah? . . . Okay . . . We'll be right there."

He hung up.

"They're at the hospital. Pony's sick. C'mon, we're leaving."

We followed him back to his car. I shrugged. I guess I'd have to play hooky for another day.

*PONYBOY'S POV*

I felt so sick I didn't really notice what was happening around me. My mind was whirling around and I desperately grabbed onto a stray thought. I was in the hospital. Sharp claws of panic tore their way into my stomach. The hospital. Johnny died here. Johnny died here. Johnny died here.

The only thing holding me back from jumping up and running out as fast as I could was Soda's hand on mine, reassuring to me as an anchor in a sea of confusion and terror.

*DALLAS' POV*

We had been waiting outside the room for ages. I flicked my ashes at a nurse, bored as hell.

"Glory! How much longer is this going to take?" groaned Two-bit.

"What a waste of time," complained Steve. He shut up when we both looked at him. Two-bit opened his mouth to say something, but at that second Darry walked out, carrying Pony, who was fast asleep. Soda was walking close to them.

We all stood up.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Pony's got pneumonia," answered Darry. "But we can take him home because he was hyperventilating really bad and panicking in the hospital."

"Is the kid gonna be okay?" I asked, trying to sound as if I didn't care. I did, though. I didn't think the gang could stand it if another person well, died.

"Of course he will be," replied Soda at once.

The ride back was silent, and the atmosphere was tense. We all squeezed into Darry's truck, Pony lying on Soda's lap and on Two-bit's and my knees, with Darry and Steve sitting in the front.

"Two-bit and Steve, aren't you two supposed to be at school?" asked Darry, for the sake of conversation.

"I'm skipping again today," Two-bit said, grinning. "World Civ test. No way I'm going."

Darry just sighed. "Steve?"

"Can't be bothered. Half of school's over anyway. Shouldn't you and Soda be at work?"

"I think we'll stay at home today-" began Soda, but was interrupted.

"S'okay Soda. I'll be fine. Go to work."

We all started at the sound of Pony's weak voice.

"I thought you were asleep," said Two-bit.

"I couldn't sleep," Pony replied. "Just closed my eyes for a bit. Soda, Darry, go to work. I don't want to be a burden." He suddenly started coughing. Darry immediately pulled over and stopped the truck.

"Give him one of those pills the doc gave us," he called as he got out of the truck and opened the door to the back. Soda was fumbling around in his pockets. He finally produced a small bottle, taking out a white pill.

"Come on Pony," he pleaded. "Just swallow it."

Somehow he managed to get Pony to take the pill, and his coughs subsided slowly.

"Sorry," he whispered as soon as he got his breath back.

"Don't be. It's not your fault," said Soda gently. "Just lie back down, okay?"

Pony nodded and put his head back on Soda's lap.

"Is he okay?" asked Darry.

"Yeah. He's fine," replied Soda.

Reluctantly Darry tore his eyes away from his kid brother and started up the truck. We got back to the Curtis house and Darry carried Ponyboy back to his bedroom.

"If you guys are staying here, don't turn up the television or the radio and keep your voices down!" he said over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Steve. "Kid's sick so we can't do anything right?"

"What's your problem?" said Two-bit angrily. "Pony's sick and-"

"Quit it you two," I broke in, surprising myself for not wanting a fight. "Just give it up."

They both stared at me for a second and then stopped, probably astonished that Dallas Winston had actually prevented a fight. I shrugged, ignoring their stares, flopped down on the couch and turned the TV on, lowering the volume. After a second, they both joined me.