Soda's POV
Darry and I ran to the DX. I got there first.
Dallas was lying on the ground, unconscious and bloody. He let out a moan, but he wasn't regaining consciousness.
I stooped beside him. He had a black eye on his left eye, a broken nose, a bloody lip, and blood was coming from somewhere along his body. I searched for the cause of the blood, and found it on his side.
Steve and Johnny were there. Steve looked angrier than ever, like he was ready to kill someone. I put a hand on his shoulder, trying to show him not to fight. Not yet.
Dally was bleeding heavily. I didn't know what to do, but, luckily Darry did.
Darry dropped down beside me and picked Dallas up. It amazed me that he could pick someone so big up with such ease.
We walked back to our house. I opened the door for Darry, and he set Dallas down on the couch.
"Do we have any bandages left?" Darry asked me.
"I'll go check!" I said as I ran into our bathroom.
I ran back with all bandages we had.
Dallas regained consciousness.
"Damn it." He muttered under his breath.
"Lay still, Dally. You're hurt." Darry ordered.
"The hell I am." He said.
"Yes, you are. Now lie still or you'll hurt your wound even more."
Dallas sank into the pillows. He was exhausted any way.
"I'll go tell Pony what's going on. He's probably scared." I said.
"Okay." Darry replied.
I walked down to our room. Pony wasn't there.
"Pony?" I called. Beginning to panic, I ran around the house, looking in each room. Then, I came back to the living room.
"Darry! Pony's gone." I said, scared silly.
"What!" He exclaimed. Then, as though not believing me, he checked the rooms too.
"Where could he have gone?" He asked, stooping back by Dallas to get him patched up.
"I don't know. Two-Bit should be here. Maybe he took him somewhere?"
"No. Two-Bit wouldn't leave without telling us." Darry was shaking his head as he slowly patched Dallas up. He was finished now.
Just then, the phone rang, and my heart beat faster than usual.
"Hello?" Darry barked into the phone.
I watched as Darry's face fell. I saw fear on his face, showing plainly.
"Okay. We'll be there." He said.
When he hung up, I thought it'd take him forever to tell me what was going on.
"It's . . . Pony. Two-Bit said he came here, and he . . . he was bleeding. He took him to the hospital. They're there now. We . . . we need to go."
"Well, then, let's go!" I said impatiently.
"You guys, stay here with Dallas." Darry barked at Johnny and Steve. The DX wasn't opening for a while. Steve could get away with it.
We ran to the truck, and Darry drove fast out of the driveway.
What's happened? What happened? We weren't gone fifteen minutes.
But that was enough, wasn't it?
Two-Bit's POV
I paced the floors of the hospital. Pony was taken back, and I couldn't go with him. It seemed like he'd been back there for hours, when it had only been minutes.
I waited for the gang to arrive. It turns out, only Soda and Darry came.
They came flying through the door, and I felt relief wash over me.
"Where is he? What's going on?" Soda said, breathless.
"The doctors took him back a few minutes ago. I don't know what's going on. He didn't wake up, and I. . . I was, so . . . worried." I was starting to flip, and they knew it. Darry placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Calm down, Two-Bit. It's not your fault."
"I should have gotten there sooner!"
"It was our fault for leaving him. Dallas got beat up by the DX. We had to go help Johnny and Steve with him." Darry explained.
"What? Is he okay? God, I can't take all this!" I exclaimed.
"Sit down, Two-Bit." Darry said in a deep voice.
So I sat down. But I was still blaming myself. Little did I know, Darry and Soda were blaming themselves, too.
Soda's POV
What's going on? Why hasn't anyone told us what's going on yet? I want to know how Pony is!
Why didn't I stay behind? I should have stayed with him, protected him. He was hurt so much the first time; I can't imagine what's happened now. He must hurt so badly. I'm such an idiot! Why didn't I stay with him? Why!
Darry's POV
We should have stayed with him. Someone should have stayed with him! Why didn't I stay with him? Oh, God, what's going on with Pony?
I wanted revenge. It was the Socs. I knew it was. It had to be! It was their plan all along. They got us distracted, and then they went into our house and beat up Ponyboy. Why didn't I stay? It wasn't that far. I didn't think anything would happen to him that close to us, but it had.
I covered my face with my hands. What have I done? What have I done!
When I heard footsteps approaching us, I looked up. Thankfully, it was one of the doctors taking care of Pony.
"Are any of you related to Ponyboy Curtis?" The doctor asked. Soda and I stood up.
"We are." I said.
"I'm Dr. Stevenson." He said, extending his hand to me and then Soda.
"Your brother is in quite a state. He has four broken ribs, he had to have four stitches in his head and ten on his chest, and he's suffering from some sort of medical state. We're not sure yet what's wrong with him mentally. It seems to be some sort of post-traumatic-stress."
"Post-traumatic what now?" Two-Bit said, clearly confused.
"And who are you?" Dr. Stevenson asked.
"He's our friend, Two-Bit. He was the one who brought Pony here." I told him.
"I see. Post-traumatic stress is a condition that can usually happens after some sort of terrifying event in which grave physical harm occurred or was threatened. It all made sense then. That was what had happened to Pony.
"He needs to calm down more. He was gasping a lot, almost hyperventilating, so we gave him a sedative. You can go see him now. I don't the sedative has kicked in, so he made still seem rather shaken." Dr. Stevenson said, and then walked away
"Ya'll go ahead. I'll wait here." Two-Bit said. I smiled at him, thanking him for understanding.
I placed an arm around Soda's shoulders and squeezed. He looked paler than usual, and he hadn't been saying much.
We made our way to Pony's room. When we walked inside, he was flopping around on the bed.
"Pony?" I said quietly. He looked worse than before. He had a dark blackish colored bruise on his forehead. His arms had a few bruises and several scrapes on them. He had a black eye, and his lip was swollen.
Pony was asleep. But the way he moved around made it seem like he was awake still. He shook with fear, and he flopped on the bed, like he was trying to escape from being tied up. But he wasn't tied.
Soda put his arms around him, trying to calm him and comfort him, but he lashed out at Soda. He pushed and punched, as he whimpered with fear.
"Pony. . .it's me." Soda said, trying to reassure him. But when he tried again, the same thing happened.
"No! Leave me alone!" Pony screamed when Soda touched him, he kicked and squirmed, as though someone was really fighting him.
I put my hand on his forehead, brushing hair back from his face.
"It's okay, baby." I said, but Pony didn't understand.
When Soda tried one last time to hold Pony, Pony began to cry and scream.
"Get off me! Darry! Soda! Help me! Get away! Get away from me!" Tears were streaming down his face and sweat began to pour along his forehead.
Soda looked at me. His eyes were pleading me to fix it. Do something. But I couldn't.
As Pony cried, it broke my heart. He was so scared, even in his sleep. What had he gone through?
