Darry's P.O.V.
It was just lucky I was home that day. We were roofing a house but the job was cancelled, and I came home early. Soda and I were on the porch when we heard the screams.
I knew it was Ponyboy. And my heart froze.
We ran, he wasn't far. Five socs surrounded him and I just saw red. We chased them off. I was so mad I could have taken them by myself, but the rest of the gang had been near enough to hear the screams. Those five socs didn't stand a chance.
In the weeks of panic after our parents died I hung on to one thought, that I'd keep us together. I'd sacrifice college, a career, free time, to keep the three of us together. And at first it was easy to work all the time because it was a way to numb the grief. And it seemed like we might be okay even when Sodapop quit school. Then he could work more, at least.
But just lately things have been getting to me. Work's a drag. Soda isn't that great at staying out of trouble and it's impossible for Ponyboy. It's not exactly his fault, he doesn't go looking for trouble with the socs, but he doesn't exactly avoid it, either.
I hauled him up. He was bleeding, he was kind of dazed but basically okay. Not like Johnny that time they got him. Pony ain't much bigger than Johnny and certainly not any smarter when it came to avoiding trouble.
I glanced at Johnny, smoking the cigarette Dal had given him. All I could see was that scar and that scared haunted look. It could have happened to Ponyboy so easily, if I hadn't had the afternoon off…
Dally's P.O.V.
Stupid fucking hospital. I grabbed the cigarette I'd tossed in the corner when Two bit and Ponyboy were visiting, lit it up and took a nice long drag.
Fucking hospital. Can't smoke. Why the hell not? I hate all these rules.
It's getting darker, almost rumble time. I'd go, there was no question, even though my arm hurt like a motherfucker. I had to go. Cause those fuckers caused all this, it was their fault Johnny was hurt. All their fault.
I got up, got dressed, and snuck over to Johnny's room. Didn't want no nurses or doctors to see me and say, "you ain't going nowhere,"
I thought he was dead at first. So still and pale. But I could see and hear him breathing.
"Johnny?"
He opened his eyes a little and turned toward me.
"Hey," he said so softly I could barely hear him.
I was kind of frozen. There were I.V.s and shit, and he was so hurt, so sick looking, it was more than I had expected. He'd shut his eyes again.
I came closer, touched his arm where it wasn't hurt. He didn't move, didn't even open his eyes.
"Hey, Johnnycake," I said, wanting him to open his eyes, to get better.
"I'm going to the rumble, I'll show those damn socs,"
He squeezed his eyes shut, sucked in his breath suddenly.
"Shit, Johnny, what's wrong?"
After a few seconds he started breathing again and opened his eyes.
"It's…it's nothing…just hurts…" he gasped, barely able to talk. I was gonna murder those socs, every last one of them.