This is just something of a filler, while I'm stuck on chapter eleven. I'm planning on revising most of the story; adding in parts, making more dialogue, putting in more descriptions. And while I'm doing that, I'll be putting in more fillers, some from the church, some from Pepsi's first two and a half months with the greasers. Hope, y'all enjoy it!
Me, Johnny and Pony were laying out in the field behind the church, smoking and just talking. At least we were until Pony asked me one question. The one question that I had always hated answering. Johnny was probably the only one in our gang that knew anything about my past. Yea, sure, the rest of the guys knew that my step-father had been abusive, but they didn't know how bad it had been.
But, when Pony asked me about my past, I felt Johnny grab for my hand and lace his fingers through mine, silently giving me strength. He knew how hard it was for me. He went through the same shit at home as I do.
Well, did, really. Ever since I got here, everything had been so much better. Well, save for Darry yelling at Pony a lot, but that was normally over school or something. Nothing like I had dealt with. Hell, if Darry had been there in the future with me when Hank was hitting me, I know he would have put my step-dad through a wall for even thinking of hurting me.
"Hey, Pepsi, you still with us?" Pony asked, nudging my shoulder with his. I looked up and nodded.
"Yea, still here." I murmured, squeezing Johnny's hand. "Why d'ya wanna know?"
"It's just…you never told us about it. You get spooked when Darry yells, flinch at loud, unexpected noises, and you just, I dunno…I'm worried about you. You're like my big sister, y'know that right?" he asked, looking over at me.
"Yea, I know. I just don't like talkin' about it, is all." I replied, fighting back the memories.
"Well, Pepsi-cola, sometimes you need to talk about stuff like this. I heard that it can usually help." Pony offered, taking my other hand in his and moving closer to me. I knew he was being serious, 'cause that was the only time anyone in the gang used my full first name.
I laughed bitterly, staring up at the stars. "You sure you wanna know about this, Pony? It's pretty bad."
"I'm sure." He answered, "But let's go inside first, it's gettin' pretty cold out here." Johnny and I both nodded and rose from the ground.
"Sure, honey. Let's get inside." I replied, slinging my arms around both boys.
Once we were inside the church, Pony looked at me expectantly, curling up on my right side. I laughed in spite of myself, running my hand through his now blonde hair and placing a kiss on his head. Johnny took up his place on my left side and clasped my hand again, pecking my temple.
"All right, Pony, where do you want me to start?" I had to force myself to relax, telling myself that Hank couldn't hurt me anymore, at least, not in the 1960's anyway.
"The beginning's always a good spot to start." He joked, placing his head on my lap. "Just…tell it like you would tell a story, I guess."
"Yea, I think you're right. Well, I guess you could say it all started when I was about six or so…" I could feel myself drifting off into the memory of the first time Hank had ever raised his hand to me.
"But I want my mummy!" I cried, clutching my teddy bear and wiping my eyes on my pajama sleeve. "When is she gonna be home? She always tucks me in at night!"
"Listen here, kiddo. Your mom is at that Ladies Council meeting and she won't be back for hours. By the time she gets home, you'll already be asleep." Hank answered, looking back into the living room at his friend. "I'm so sorry, Sam, I'll be right back." He began leading me upstairs to my room.
"Dad, what are you doing?" I was still crying and clutching that damned bear. "You're hurting me." I tried pulling my arm out of his hand, but I didn't have enough strength. I was still too little. "Stop it, please!"
"You wanna see hurt, little girl?" He opened the door to my room and threw me onto the carpet. I looked up at him in confusion and fear, still holding tight to that bear. "I am in the middle of a very important meeting. I do not want to hear you crying about your mom. She will be home when she gets home." He hissed through gritted teeth. I sniffled again, trying to edge my way away from him. "Where do you think you're going, little girl?"
"To bed?" I whispered, trying not to anger him further.
"Not without a lesson first." He drew his arm back and slapped me hard across the face, sending me into the carpet. I stared up at him, fear plain in my eyes. "Now listen to me, and listen good. I do not want to see you back downstairs for the rest of the night. And I don't want you telling your mom about that." He pointed to my check that was rapidly turning red. "You will tell her that you fell down the stairs or else I will give you a matching one on your other cheek. Am I understood?" I nodded, fearing to talk. "Good. Now get to bed." I scurried over to my bed and climbed in, pulling the covers over me. "Good girl. Good night, sweetheart." He walked over to my bed and I flinched, waiting for another blow. I heard him laugh as he turned out the light, plunging the room into darkness. The memory faded.
"Jesus, Pepsi, you were only six and he was hittin' you?" Pony asked, hugging me 'round the waist as best he could while his head was still in my lap. "What a bastard."
"Yea, that was when he started. It got a lot worse when I got older. This one time my cousin, 7-up, was over and we were eatin' spaghetti, and at nine, you don't really eat pasta like an adult, y'know?" Pony and Johnny nodded. "Well, he hated the fact that I slurped my spaghetti and he let me know it by hitting me a few times. But he was always careful; he never hit me anywhere someone could see. And if he did, he'd threaten me to make me tell people that I had just fallen down the stairs or run into a door or somethin'.
"The sad part was, almost all of my friends believed me. Except for a few, everyone just thought that I was a klutz or extremely accident-prone. And I just let them think that because it was easier then letting people know my secret. And who would have believed me anyhow?
"Hank was one of those guys that everyone loved. In his friends' eyes, he had the perfect family: the beautiful second wife, who could cook so damn good, two gorgeous older daughters from his first marriage who were both in high school and then there was me. The youngest in grade school, always got straight A's, never talked or sassed back, always helped out around the house. All of his friends wanted a kid just like me. I always wondered what they would have thought if they knew the truth, y'know?" I paused for a moment to wipe my eyes. "I need a cigarette." Pony handed me one and pulled out two extra for him and Johnny. The three of us lit up. "God, he was such a fuckin' bastard!
"I remember…I remember this one time, when I was about fourteen. I had just started high school. I brought home a B plus on a math test. Mum was so goddamn proud of me, 'cause I'd always had trouble in maths ever since about third grade, but Hank was so damn pissed. I had to be the best. I had to always get straight A's. A B wasn't good enough. He beat the shit out of me that night. But I had learned, when I was still little, not to make a sound, because if I did, he'd just beat me harder." I laughed softly, moving Ponyboy's head so I could draw my knees up and take a drag on the weed.
"You wanna know when I learned that lesson? When I was seven. I screamed one time and he damn near broke my jaw. The next day I told my mum that I had banged it on the refrigerator by accident. She believed me." I buried my head in my knees. Pony and Johnny exchanged looks. I could tell that they hadn't known it had been this bad. And I wasn't even telling them the worst of it.
Like the time he had shoved me down the stairs when we were in an argument when I was about thirteen. I broke my wrist and had to tell mum that I tripped down the stairs on my own. I had always wondered if he had been trying to make me break my neck or something. Johnny pulled me to him and Pony cuddled around me, putting his head in my neck.
"Is that how come you got so many scars, Pepsi?" Pony asked, flicking his cigarette butt away and wrapping his arms around my waist again. I nodded, and then shrugged, flicking mine away as well.
"I guess so. I mean, yea, I'm kinda ditzy on my own, so I did get a few from actually tripping over things or just rough-housing with my friends." I sighed, and leaned my head back. "That's why no one thought anything about the bruises and cuts I always had. They just thought that I had done it to myself somehow.
"But Mike, 7-up, and later, my friends Kat and Cy, they knew what was really happening. 7-up knew because she had seen Hank hittin' me. I don't know how Mike knew, but he just did." I laughed for a second, remembering my 'original' big brother and how crazy he was. "The same with Kat. She figured it out within the first week of knowing me, cornered me by the second, and had me confessing by the third. She's a lot like Soda and Darry mixed-up. Over-protective and sweet, I guess. And Cy, well, you just don't want to get on her bad side. She's kinda like my older sister. She never really asked me about what was goin' on, but she always had a first aid kit with her at school so she could fix me up in the mornings. I knew I could trust them." I drew a deep breath. "Just like I know I can trust y'all and the gang."
Pony withdrew his head from my neck. "What else did he do to you, Pepsi?" he asked. I could see the anger in his eyes.
"When I had just turned fifteen, I did something wrong." I gave a dry, bitter chuckle. "By then I was always doin' 'something' wrong. He, uh, he grabbed a frying pan and started hittin' me with that. He broke my shoulder blade that time. It took me two days to get the courage to bring myself to the hospital. I was scared half outta my mind, but I didn't know what else to do. I kept thinking, 'How am I gonna explain this one?' I ended up telling the doctor that fixed my shoulder that I had been playing around in the kitchen and had slipped and hit my shoulder on the counter top. I don't think that he believed me, but he let it go and didn't file a report."
"Report? What kind of report?" Johnny asked, shifting so that I was leaning more on him.
"A child abuse report. It's something that doctors or other adults are supposed to fill out when they think that anyone under the age of eighteen is being abused by another adult. No doctor ever filled one out for me. I guess I was a good enough liar by then."
"What about that scar on your back? I saw it a few weeks ago." Johnny asked.
"I got that one dodging a knife when I was sixteen. He was drunk off of his ass, thank god, so his aim was off. That one happened about three months before I came here, I think." I scratched at the bottom part of the scar absent-mindedly. It ran from my right shoulder blade to just about the left side of my hip. I usually forgot that it was there since I didn't exactly see it everyday. Thankfully, since Hank had been drunk at the time, the cut hadn't been too bad and Kat had patched me up the next morning when she came to pick me up to go shopping.
"What else did he use against you?" Pony asked, curling up into my side, both arms completely wrapped about my waist.
"Different things, I guess. Usually, just his hands, but sometimes, what ever he could get his hands on." I lifted my left hand to brush my hair out of my face when I caught Pony looking at my wrist the same way Johnny had that night in the lot.
"Pepsi, oh god, please tell me you didn't." he pleaded, lifting his head and grasping my arm to get a better look at the scar. I hung my head.
"I did. When I was thirteen." I had to choke back tears. "I couldn't take it anymore, so I tried to take the coward's way out, but I couldn't. I stopped the bleeding and wrapped it up. I made up excuses the next day and everything went back to normal." I looked up at both Pony and Johnny. "I'm not proud of it, okay? I hate myself sometimes for even thinkin' about doin' it." Pony let go of my arm and coiled around me again. "I'm glad it didn't work, though." The boys looked at me. "If it had worked, I never would have been on my uncle's boat, which means I never would have gotten sent back in time, as it were, and I never would have met y'all."
"I'm glad it didn't work, too, Pepsi. You mean too much to all of us now." Johnny said, placing a kiss on my cheek while Pony nodded in agreement. I sniffled.
"Thanks, y'all. I'm really glad to know you guys too. You really have no clue as to how much you mean to me." I cuddled closer to Johnny and looped an arm around Ponyboy's shoulders, pulling him in closer. "Y'all wanna hear the rest?"
Both of them nodded; Johnny tightening his grip on me and Pony shifting into a more comfortable position.
"One time, when I was about ten and a half, Hank caught me cryin' about Gramps. My grandfather had died a few months before and I was still hurting bad from it. Gramps had been the one person in my life I knew I'd always be able to count on no matter what. So, when he died, I felt like I had lost my best friend. Well, Hank was pissed that I was still grieving over him. He felt like I should just get back to 'normal' as he put it." I brushed the tears away before continuing.
"That was the first night I had ever talked back to him. Mum wasn't home at the time to hear me screaming at him. When he said that I should just get over it, that it wasn't that big of a deal, I lost it. I screamed back 'Well, at least he treated me better than you ever have! He loved me no matter what I did!' Hank got so mad at that, he started hittin' me with his fists and then kickin' me when I fell down.
"I ended up with three broken ribs, two cracked ones and a few bruised ones. I had to patch myself up that time. It's hard to bandage your own ribs when you're ten and you don't know what the hell you're doing. But I did it anyway. After that, I didn't let him hear me crying about Gramps anymore. I was too scared that the next time, he'd beat me to death." I could feel the tears that were coursing down my face; I could still feel the phantom pain from six years ago. "He damn near did once. I had just turned sixteen, and it was about a month or so after Robbie had died. I was still having loads of trouble sleeping, y'know?" The boys nodded. "So one night, I snuck out of the house to go for a walk, to try and calm myself down, y'know?" I took a breath, trying to stop my tears. "I got back to the house and Hank was waiting for me in my room. I was so scared, I could barely even think straight.
"He didn't even say anything, he just started beating me. After the first few blows, I started feeling numb. I just didn't care anymore. I just laid there on my carpet and let him beat the shit out of me, because I didn't care anymore. I woke up the next morning and called my boss with an excuse as to why I couldn't go into work that day.
"I think I might have told him that I dislocated my knee or something, I can't really remember. I ended up with a few days off of work. I still had bruises when I went back, but I just covered them up with makeup." I sighed sadly. "I had gotten real good doin' that by the time I was around eleven. As I got older, people wouldn't even notice the bruises because I could cover them up so damn well. I used to wish, that once, just once, a teacher or a doctor or anybody had called the cops on that bastard. But now? I'm just glad that I'm not there anymore for him to beat on." I could feel both Johnny and Pony tensing up, as though they were going to try and find some way back to my time and beat the living crap out of Hank.
"He ain't gonna hurt you no more, Pepsi, we're here. He'd have to go through all of us to get anywhere near you. And just think when Dally finds out about this and if he and Hank ever meet, Hank will be the one in the hospital, not you. Not anymore." Johnny said, holding me tighter as I let the tears out. Pony sat up and put his chin on my shoulder, telling me that Hank would never touch me again, as long as I was with the gang. I struggled to get my breath back and even it out.
"The sad thing is, I don't even think that my mum realized what was going on until that night." I said, brushing away the tears.
"Which night?" Pony asked, keeping his arms around my waist and cuddling closer to me, with his head on my shoulder again.
"The night my uncle caught him beatin' on me."
"I can't believe this shit! What are you, fuckin' stupid? Are you a retard? What is this crap? An A minus? You must be a fuckin' idiot to get these answers wrong!" Hank screamed, brandishing my latest Chemistry test at me.
"I'm sorry, I did my best." I replied, keeping my eyes trained on the floor so that he couldn't see how angry I was becoming. It was an A minus, so what? It was also one of the highest grades in the damn class for that test. But did he care about that? Not one fucking bit.
"Well, your best isn't fucking good enough! You're supposed to be smart! That's why you're at Ursuline! I didn't realize that they took in idiots like you!" I was grinding my teeth together by now. I might not be a genius like some of the girls at Ursuline, but I sure as hell wasn't an idiot.
"Well, answer me! Are you or are you not a fuckin' idiot?" He growled, throwing the test papers at me. I carefully schooled my face into a blank mask. I knew that if he could tell what I was thinking, I would really catch hell for it.
"No, sir. I don't think that I am an idiot. My grade was one of the highest in the class." I decided to stop there because I could already see him growing madder and madder. I returned my eyes to the floor, slowly forcing myself to relax, to breathe deep and slow.
I honestly didn't see the fist that came at my head until it was too late to do more that prepare myself for the blow. I saw stars erupt in front of my vision, before I felt his other fist hit my cheek.
Suddenly, the door banged open and my uncle was there, staring at the scene in front of him. Hank, with his arm pulled back to hit me again, and me, kneeing on the floor, covering my cheek with my hand.
"Pepsi, get up and pack a weekend bag, now." I looked at him like he was an alien, half-terrified and half-relived. Uncle Bad would protect me, right? The look in his eyes was one I'd never seen before. He was beyond angry and getting into furious. I slowly picked myself up off the ground and then bolted to my room upstairs and began throwing everything I could into a bag. Clothes, mementos that had special meanings for me, makeup to cover-up the bruises I was sure I'd have come the next morning.
I hurriedly finished packing and rushed back downstairs to see my uncle and Hank nearly coming to blows. Uncle Bad tossed me the keys with an order to 'get the hell in the car and lock the doors'. I nodded and ran out of the front door, unlocking the car and jumping in before locking it again.
Nearly five minutes later, Uncle Bad came out of the house, rubbing him knuckles and knocked on the window to get me to open it. I did, he got in, started the engine and we sped away into the night.
"It didn't take long for him to start asking me when it started and how long it had been goin' on. When he found out it had been goin' on for nearly ten years, he almost flipped. But he never yelled at me. He just said that we would take care of it when we got back from the weekend trip." I finished, leaning more into Johnny and pulling Pony with me. I realized something and laughed. "I guess I never did get back from that weekend trip. I wonder what Uncle Bad did when they went back." I thought for a second. "If they had gotten caught up in the same thing that sent me here, they would be here too, right?" Johnny and Pony shrugged and hesitantly nodded. "Then, I guess they're okay. I wonder if Uncle Bad ever told the cops." Pony looked at me for a second.
"Was there ever any evidence of what he did to you?" he asked, pulling back and looking thoughtful for a moment.
I had to think for a minute. "Yea, there was. Cy and Kat both used to take pictures of what I'd look like after the beatings. Kat kept saying that she would keep them until I found the strength and courage to go to the police. I always laughed at her, telling her that I never would. That he would just keep on hitting me until I left." I sighed again. "I was always so terrified that if I went to the police and Hank found out, that he would kill me. Not just beat me to within an inch of my life, but really and truly kill me. That was what always kept me from telling a teacher or the doctors that patched me up when it was something so serious that Kat and Cy couldn't handle it." I shrugged helplessly. "Guess I don't have to worry about him now, huh?"
"No, you don't, Pepsi. You don't ever have to worry about him again. Not while we're all here." Pony said, hugging me from the side, while Johnny repeatedly kissed my head. I latched on to both boys, not wanting them to see me crying again. But, they both figured it out, as they always did, and went about comforting me and calming me down. It took nearly fifteen minutes before I could catch my breath and start to breath normally again.
But for the first time in my sixteen years of life, I felt a weight lift off of me. It had been the secret that I had carried around for so long. The secret of my past, the secret that I had never shared with anybody. This was, honestly, the first time that I had voluntarily told people. With Kat, it had been more of an 'I know what you're hiding, so just tell me.' With Cy, it had been more of an understanding that, yes it was going on, and yes, I was too damn scared to stop it. Both of them understood, in their own ways.
And I would forever be grateful to them for how they had helped me all of those times. How they had always covered for me if I wasn't in class because I was in the bathroom crying because of the pain and fear. How, no matter what kind of condition I showed up in, they never told my secret. I could always see how much it hurt them to keep it, but I would always be eternally thankful that they had kept it. Because if they hadn't, I probably wouldn't be where and, well, when I was now.
I pledged to myself, then and there, that if I ever got back to my time, that I would tell them how much it had meant to me that they had kept it silent. And then I would tell them my story. The full one, not the abbreviated versions that I had always told them in the past, but the story in its entirety.
I came back to the present to find the boys still promising me that nothing would happen to me while I was with them. I smiled softly and hugged both of them as tightly as I could.
"Thanks, y'all. For everything." I said, kissing them both on the cheek. Johnny returned the kiss, with a whisper in my ear, saying, 'we'll talk later.' While Pony just shrugged and hugged me back. I looked outside.
"I'm thinkin' it's time for bed, y'all." I said, stifling a yawn. Telling Pony and Johnny about my past had taken a lot out of me. I guessed it would get easier if I told more people. While we were bedding down, I realized that I would probably have to tell the rest of the gang about my past. It wasn't right to just let Pony and Johnny know when the rest of them were left in the dark, wondering just how bad my step-dad had beaten me. That was another promise I made, to tell the rest of my friends here. I knew it would be hard, but I would get though it, with Johnny and Pony by my side.
I guess I must have been thinking about it for a while, because by the time I stopped thinking, Pony was asleep and Johnny was standing at the church's back door. I quietly got up, so that I wouldn't wake Ponyboy, and walked up to him, standing near him, but not touching. He made the first move.
He took my hand and led me outside. He sat down close to the same spot that we had been in at the beginning of the talk and pulled me down to sit in front of him, with my back to his chest. We sat there for a few moments, just listening to the quietness around us. Johnny was the first to break it.
"If that bastard ever comes anywhere near you again and we're still around, you won't ever have to worry about him touching you again, 'cause Dally and Darry will take care of him. He won't ever hurt you again, baby." He said, pulling me in tighter, and resting his chin on my shoulder.
"I know." I answered quietly, pulling Johnny's arms around me as tight as I could get them. "But that's not what scares me. What scares me is that if any of y'all stand up for me, he could hurt you. I just…I don't want that to happen to one of y'all because of me."
Johnny pulled me around and kissed me hard on the lips. "But that's why we would do it, baby. Just to make sure you didn't get hurt." I sighed shakily and climbed into Johnny's lap, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist and kissing him again.
"Why, though? I mean, I just, literally, dropped into y'all's lives almost three months ago. Why would any of you do something like that for me?"
"You haven't figured it out yet? To everybody else, you're like a little sister. You help out with everything, take care of us when we get into fights, and try to keep us in line. Hell, baby, even Dallas feels like that. As long as we're around, nobody's gonna hurt you like that ever again." He said, running his hands along me back while I rested my head on his shoulder.
"What about you, Johnny? How do you feel about me?" I asked, hoping he would say that he felt the same way about me as I felt about him.
"Well, it sure as hell ain't like you're my little sister," he replied, laughing softly. "But, I'm still trying to figure it out, 'cause I've never felt like this about anyone before." I nodded, kissing his neck.
"I feel the same way. Just don't know what it is yet." I told him, sitting back up and cupping his face. "But whatever it is, I like it. It makes me feel warm and safe, like nothing could ever hurt me while you're around." I looked down, blushing at my own confession. I felt Johnny cup my face and bring me back up to his eye level.
"I know, baby. I know." He kissed me one last time before sliding me off of his lap and standing. He reached down and helped me to me feet before enfolding me in a tight hug. "Never gonna let anything like that happen to you again. I promise." He said, placing a kiss on my forehead. I snuggled up to him in the embrace for a moment, before regretfully pulling back.
"We should get back inside before Pony wakes up and wonders where we are." Johnny nodded in agreement. I took his hand and led him back into the church; thankful that whatever power resided in the heavens had been kind enough to give me a second chance with the boys I now called my family.
Johnny and I got back into our usual sleeping positions: me in the middle, curled around Pony, who was in front of me, with Johnny at my back, with his arms wrapped around me.
It was in that moment that I realized the feelings that I had for Johnny.
I was starting to fall in love with him. And for the first time in my life, I was nearly certain that he felt the same way for me. And I was at peace, knowing that if anything should happen, Johnny would always have my back, no matter what. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.
Well, I hope that this explains more about Pepsi's past with her step-father. Once I get back from the store, I'll start another filler. Think I should do one that explains why Pepsi started sleeping with Soda and Pony? Or one that has the gang asking Pepsi questions about the future? I'll decide when I get back. I have both of the stories half written out in my head. Later!