A/n: Well, here we go again! I know it's been over a month – nearly two – since I last updated… but once again, you can thanks Tens for this one. It's her birthday today, and therefore pretty much the only present I can give her. I should probably warn you guys that this chapter picks up on the Rated R theme again. Language definitely comes into account here, and if you aren't comfortable with that… I'm sorry, but maybe this isn't the story for you.

Dedication: To Tensleep who is currently celebrating her seventeenth birthday. We're the same age! For a week! Go us! ;) We'll go through this exact routine again, I guarantee it. What's this? Our second year in a row? Barely? Lol. Love you tons, Tens! This is for you. Love to Jhon too, though he won't read this, I'm sure.

A/n: I'm trying to officially finish typing this before midnight strikes, so I can say I was done with it BEFORE her birthday, so I'm going to end it now.

Enjoy!

Chapter Fifteen

(Pony's POV)

Thinking is the only escape from the world when you've got nothing else to save you. No paper to write or draw on. No radio to distract me with it's music. No Two-Bit and Steve wrestling at my feet. Not even a letter to read when all seems lost.

It's a crime when it's taken away.

It's for a crime it was taken away. And not one I could've prevented or one that was even my fault or doing.

It's seldom that I can't hear myself think… or hear myself talk… or hear anything in the midst of chaos, for that matter. But after two weeks I've figured that it's plenty easy to ignore once you realize that none of the racket has to do with you.

I just wish I could clear my mind.

"The mashed potatoes aren't so bad if you leave off the gravy," Derek indicated from across the table. "And the rolls aren't stale today."

Is that supposed to be an improvement or something?

"It's disgusting." I glanced up at him.

"I – I know… But it's a little better."

The kid nearly wet himself when he talked. He stuttered so hard at times, his coke bottle glasses slipped right off his nose and into his lap. His face would light up and he'd make any excuse to leave. You'd think I was holding a knife to his wrists the way he made himself sick over talking. To anyone really.

Nerds don't belong in here. Especially the ones who think you'll grind their faces in the cement, like many of the guys here are willing to do. If you let them know you're afraid, they'll stop at no lengths to win your respect. Derek should know that by now.

"Right…"

I sighed.

Wrinkled peas rolled around my plate as I poked them with a plastic fork. One slopped into the mashed Jell-O and wobbled like a fat kid losing his balance until it rested. How they expected us to eat this garbage was beyond me. It's a wonder Dallas never died of starvation. Sure explained a lot though… No wonder he was so damn skinny.

Grey shadows cast over the table as guards walked back and forth, observing and disciplining. For once, I couldn't blame them. The room buzzed erratically and no one noticed the cops watching them eat. It was lined with row upon row of orange-clad fuck-ups that were all more concerned with potential fights and swapping war stories. No one backed down on their pride. Those who didn't swap dirt posed empty threats. There was a real difference between those considered tough and those who wanted to be tough.

You could always tell who was standing behind you before their scent – if they had one – or their voice made a presence. Their shadows become familiar to the eye and they all had their unique quirks to set them apart. So, it was no surprise when Marco's corpulent better half descended over me and his head disappeared as he leaned in.

"What's going on over here?"

"Nothing," I sighed.

"Really now?" He straightened for a minute. "How's your dinner, Barry?"

"Wonderful. Thank you." Derek buried his spork in his Jell-O and scooped it in his mouth to prove his point.

"Glad to hear it." I didn't have to see Marco's grin to know it was bitter.

The kid looked like he could erupt in tears at any moment.

"How about you, Ponyboy?" He forced the words like gelatin squirting through his teeth.

"I don't like – "

"I don't care. Eat it anyway. It's good for you."

"But, sir, I don't – "

"EAT, CURTIS!"

Ouch.

"I'm not hungry."

He moved to make certain I saw him. He seemed to be under the impression that it made a difference….

"Does it look like I give a damn?" His face burned, livid that I'd dare talk back. "Eat or go back to your quarters!"

I flinched as spit sprayed in spurts on my face, sticking like chunks of moist beef… probably was. They always got better meals than we did.

Just keep still… I can clean it off later…

"WELL?"

"… I can't eat this."

"All right, let's go." He grabbed my arm with aggravated vehemence and hoisted me up, knocking my chair out of the way as he pulled me to a standing position. "MOVE!"

Without giving me the chance to figure out my feet beneath me, he directed to the cafeteria doors where Jeff was waiting to escort the next kid out. He shoved me the rest of the way and I was lucky to not have lost my footing.

And because no one noticed the skinny kid refusing his food, no one jumped to the occasion to say a word. Like habits and routine go, no one noticed as I got tossed around from guard to guard. They were all too busy. No friends made yet to back me up. Derek wasn't about to risk his good name with "the boys."

I hated this place.

But, I think I hated Marco more.

"C'mon, Kid." Jeff caught me mid-stumble and threw the doors open in one fleeting moment.

It was as if I couldn't walk on my own. It was worse than being cuffed. Thick finger marks were forming around my upper arm and it wasn't all from Marco's insolence. Newbies, as the inmates liked to call us new kids, all had to be guided around. No one trusted us. No one gave us a chance.

"Next time just listen to him, Kid," Jeff loosened his grip to a mere touch as we walked down the gray corridor. "The more you listen, he easier he'll be."

I liked Jeff. He was just about the only guard who actually cared. And if any of the others cared, he was the only one who showed it. At a toppling six foot eight, he towered above everyone, but his height had no effect on his easy-going attitude. He'd just assume watch you drive your fist into the next guy's face, as he would cats hissing over territory. He'd watch for a minute and then walk over and pull you apart by your collars and walk you to your cell without a word.

Life would be so much better if all the guards were carbon copies of Jeff.

"Jeff, I can't eat the food. I can't lick Marco's shoes. I can't even please my roommate to save my life. And I don't give a fuck what happens here, as long as I can leave after my court date."

Two weeks of this place was enough to sour my attitude. Two weeks was far too long to keep my mind with Brock. Two weeks without my brothers… now that was just hell, plain and simple.

"Good luck, Chief." We stopped at my door, A 103. "I can only offer you my advice if you're willing to take it. But take it from someone who works with him… Take his shit, dish it back, accept the consequences, and make your stay miserable. Take his shit and live with it, and maybe you'll remember why it is you never wanted to come here in the first place. Maybe you won't ever come back." He jiggled the key in the lock and waited for it to popped open.

"Right." I slid past and sulked into the dimly lit cave.

"Don't make yourself sick, kid. If the candy man only offers cherry drops, take them and make do with what you have until he gets something else to sell." He closed the door behind him. "It ain't worth starving yourself over."

It was when they purposefully punished us with food they wouldn't even serve to their guard dogs.

I never believed my buds when they said the food here was horrendous, but I'll never doubt another thing they tell me. I always thought it was only on television and movies – but I can tell you first hand, more boys here seriously consider culinary school than girls in Home-EC.

"Tough guy's gone and got himself in trouble again, huh?" Brock cooed and strolled out of the bathroom we shared with the room next to us, and the two behind.

His poking and prodding and endless humiliating remarks were enough to drive someone over the edge. Luckily I'd grown up with Steve around and I have to say I find it rather easy to let Brock's statements roll right on past. He was all talk. Well, mostly. He'd only hit me once, and that was when I knocked his pillow off his bed and revealed a picture of his girlfriend, Lara. His soft side had seen the light of day for two seconds and then my right eye lost its for the next two. Neither of us ever said a word about it again either.

"Hey, I'm talking to ya, fuckface." He threw a sweaty sock at my head as I sat down on the edge of my bed. I peeled it off my hair and dropped it on the floor.

Grimacing I decided that him knowing was better than getting locked in the bathroom again. "Marco's an fuckin' asshole."

Tough words seemed to please him to an extent. At least he didn't mock me anymore for using words like jerk, idiot, and pansy. I'd rather destroy my vocabulary than get another face full of putrid laughter.

"Now look who's the pansy."

He thought he was so funny. It was rather pathetic really.

He also thought I let Marco get to me, and took every opportunity to jab at me for it. Brock was too cool to get worked up over any guard. He kept his brawls between the older inmates and found odd pleasure in poking fun at Derek, who was rooming down in A 123. He was only in here because his gym coach found him stashing matches in his locker in the boys locker room down at San Juan junior high. He told me it was for his science fair show, and he had gym first period and was late to class that day. I believe him, but let my ass burn in hell if I ever let Brock know that.

Smirking, I pulled off my shoes and lied on my bed. My stomach growled, angry that I'd gone without food for a second day in a row. But like I said, two weeks was driving me over the edge.

"I'll take raise you fifteen."

"Fifteen?"

"No, fuckin' thirty. Yes, fifteen. That's what I said wasn't it?"

"Uh, yeah." I was quick to agree. "I'll match your fifteen, and raise you ten."

"Well now…" Brock studied me. "Brave little bastard you are…" He grinned.

I hadn't the slightest clue what he meant, but I wasn't going to let his potential bluffs get me easily. He liked a challenge and I was going to deliver it. It pissed him off if I let him win without putting up a fight. He liked to watch me squirm, but I think he liked the idea of cracking my shell bit by bit, hoping to break it someday.

"Royal flush." He laid his cards. "In spades."

He cheated. There was no way around it.

Am I supposed to say something?

Do I look stupid? Of course I don't.

"Full house." I spread mine out in front of me and sat back against my bunk while he collected his new chips.

At least I can play, right?

"This is fun shit, Cowboy." He grinned. "Before we're done, you'll owe me your whole live savings. Assuming you have some." He looked up. "And if you don't, you'll sure have a hell of a time earning it."

He's got to learn how to control those eyebrows.

No one seemed to have the right authority to help switch me cell partners. Not even Jeff had any sort of influence around this place. Asking him to talk to the big guys was like telling Soda to phone the president. They'd whack his request away like a fly buzzing in their ears.

"Right." I forced a small smirk and waited to get my new cards as he dealt them.

"Whoever the hell taught you to play sure did it wrong," he continued. "That or they were fooling you."

It's times like these when I wanted to take these cards and shove them up his –

"Mason!" Marco's voice rolled down the halls like thunder trapped in an underground tunnel. He sounded near our cell.

"What?" Brock called out, quickly finding a back to shove his poker chips and cards in. Throwing them under his pillowcase he indicated I do the same.

We both new it was against regulations to have anything in our rooms not prior approved by the head of staff. How he got these cards and chips in, I don't know. Nor did I want to know. The less I knew the better. What I'm ignorant too I can't have held against me, right? It was at least worth a shot.

"Visitors. You want to see them or not?" Marco slid the windowpane open and peered in with those sharp, black eyes.

"Depends. Who?" He stood up and stretched, like he'd been lying down for ages.

"Mr. Mac and Ms. Lara Bell. Interested?"

And now the infamous Lara comes into play. I had no clue who Mr. Mac was, but I had a strange feeling he was only there to get Lara past security.

Though we never mentioned his picture, Brock loved nothing more than to brag about his girl. He told me crude details that would've lit a child's neck on fire. They certainly did a good job with me the first few times and that's saying something after listening in on our gang's brag sessions. In Brock's case though – he had a hell of a story to back him up. Who knew prostitutes could make girlfriend material?

"Hell yeah!" He backed away from the door to let Marco unlock it. "How long I get this time?"

"One hour." He played with the lock and the door popped open. "No more."

"What? A fuckin' hour? What the hell?"

"I could always change it to forty-five minutes." Marco let him pass by, shutting the door back again leaving me to my lonesome.

"Fuck." Brock resigned. "Next time?"

"Maybe longer." I could just picture Marco shrugging as though nothing meant less to him than sane inmates. "Behavior goes far."

Their voices trailed them down the hall and soon disappeared. It wasn't hard to hear other guys around here. If I listened closely enough, I'd be able to hear Greg in his corner cell, screaming obscenities at the top of his lungs. But I had learned to tune him out long ago. To make out one defined pair of voices, though, in the mix of all the chaos – it was near to impossible.

My brother's hadn't come to see yet. The first few days I waited impatiently for some word that Darry was ready to bust me out of here, but it never came. The fuzz wouldn't let us talk since I left home and they were determined to punish me with the one thing they knew would cause me to shatter. Too bad for them – it wasn't going to work. There was nothing TO shatter.

A/n: Well, here you go! The end! Of this chapter that is. On to the RR's.

Tensleep: What do you know… first review I get. As always :D Well, usually… Anyway, I think you were on something when you wrote that, but hey. It made me laugh. For some reason, looking back on this review, I'm picking up so many more things than I noticed before. I like it, lol. Yeah, I want to see all those things too, and I intend to have them all. Happy birthday! I'm sorry I'm not around for it :( I hope you like your birthday present!

kaz456: Woah. That's one heck of a long review! Lol. I love receiving these kinds of reviews. Let's me know people really care. Thank you for your sympathy and concern. I'm all right now. I just went through a period where I didn't know what to do with myself and the closest people around me weren't the easiest people to turn to, although I wanted to and I when I DID, they were exactly what I needed. Thank you so much for your comments. I totally enjoyed reading them :D I love the connections you made and I'm glad you agree with the moves I made. Enjoy!

Tonyboy: You aren't going to like this chapter at all, bud. I'm sorry about that too. I know you're a religious person, and I respect that 100, because I am too. But, when it comes to writing, not everything is bubblegum perfect and words are going to be used that we don't like. I don't find pleasure in writing them – don't get me wrong – but in a story like this, it's quite frankly unavoidable. I hope with EVERYTHING that you won't stop reading this story, because I really do value you as a reader/reviewer. Btw, I was reading your profile… and my Shakespeare class just got done reading Taming of the Shrew. It was interesting… I kinda liked it (I'm not a huge Shakespeare fan). Anyway, I really hope you keep reading. Enjoy!

BoboTheSemiDeadCat: Lol, I totally agree. Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

Sodapop's#1gurl: Haha, I'm glad I updated too. That was a fun day for my friends and I. Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope this chapter helps to clear some things up for you!

The King: Lol, Stud… lol… Once I can stop laughing, I'll think of something logical to say… Well, as for Ponyboy hitting his head against the bars… No. Lol. At least not now. If I decide he goes insane enough, I might just do it for you. And you like Elizabeth? Stud… That's not right… lol. I can't stop laughing… Thanks for the review, babe. Happy birthday!

CiCi: Yeah, I know. But hey, it's fun though, right? Lol. Thanks and enjoy!

sodaschick: Thank you for your compliment! I'm sorry this probably took a lot longer than you were wanting, but I hope you're still around to read, and I hope you enjoy it!

blame it on the government: I don't think I quite understand… Clarification please? Enjoy!