"Is he dead?" Johnny heard a weak voice. He was on his side, and his head ached and something awful, but other than that, he felt fine. Was it all a dream? Was it –

He felt a quick jab in his side, which interrupted his thoughts. He rolled over, whimpering, and looking up into the eyes of the 12 year old who'd just kicked him in the side. The boys eyes widened and he backed away slowly. "Nope…He's not dead," He answered, looking to his friend. Johnny narrowed his eyes, glaring. "Why don't you two kids beat it?"
They hurried off at that, and Johnny stood up. "Damn…" He put a hand on his side where that kid had kicked him. That had really hurt, not to mention his head was swimming anyway from the fall he'd taken. He clenched his teeth, turning around. Children. Five year olds where running around the park, swinging on the swings, playing games. Playing games in the very park he committed his first murder in.

His eyes slowly scanned the area, stopping at the water fountain. For a moment he thought he was hallucinating, but he could see a black haired boy sitting there, staring at him. He looked human, this time. No wings, no freakish glow – He looked human.

"Azrael?" He murmured weakly, slowly walking over. His voice, he noticed, was different than it had been before – It was slightly deeper. He took a seat next to him, confused. "What's going on?"
"Look at yourself," Azrael suggested, gesturing to the water. Johnny obeyed, peering over into the water…He suddenly remembered Ponyboys head submerged in water, Bobs smug face turn to a look of terror as he took out his blade…The fear he'd felt that night for his friends life, and the regret as he pulled the blade out of the flesh...
He shook the thought off, watching the boy in the water, who stared back at him expectantly. That couldn't be him. Could it?
Johnny still had his big eyes – Only now they where brown, like chocolate, like candy. And he still had his thin frame…Only now he looked a year or so older. His skin was lighter than it had been before, and his hair was longer, to – and black, with sort of reddish colored bangs. He was wearing his jean jacket – Or rather, a new one, zipped up over whatever color tshirt was underneath. He hadn't seen it yet, and a pair of ripped black jeans completed his outfit.
"Is that…Me?" He asked meekly, looking up to Azrael with a furrowed brow. It didn't look like him. It didn't...feel like he was in his own body, either. He was controlling a stranger. The archangel only nodded. "Yes. From now one, Johnny Cade, you're to be…Well, how about Davis Abbott? Just for now. For this mission..." Johnny smiled. He liked that name. Davis. It would only be his name for a short period of time, but maybe being someone else for a change would be fun? He nodded. "Sounds good…"

He remembered how he used to want to be someone else. How, after a beating or after a bad day, he'd lay down on his bed and wonder what it would be like to be someone completely new. Someone different. Davis was different enough for him, and he'd play this role with pride, having finally gotten his wish. A new life. A new start...If only for a week.
Azrael stood up, looking over his shoulder. "I need to go. I just wanted to make sure you know what's going on," He started to walk away, turning to look over his shoulder. "Remember the rules. If you break them...You won't be able to pass on," He said sadly. "This is a difficult mission. It's rare we give them out."
"Wait! Mr. Angel…I don't know where Dally is," Johnny said softly, biting his painted black fingernails in the annoying way he had started to do shortly before he died, when he was nervous. "Then look for him!" Came the final reply, and Azrael had vanished between buildings in an alleyway.

Davis shook his head and sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans before kicking a rock. He started to walk down the sidewalk, looking around the streets – Oh, it felt so good to be back on these streets again. It felt like…He was home.
I'll have to go back once my mission is over, though. He thought sadly, looking at the ground. He didn't want heaven. He just wanted home. He started on the familiar route to the Curtis household - He had it memorized, and it was something he'd never forget - Stopping outside, across the street. What he wouldn't give to see everyone again...The house looked the same, and he remembered months ago how they'd all have lunch in the kitchen together. He remembered even before that - When Ponys' parents hadn't died - When his mother, who always felt bad for Johnny because of the way he was growing up, that he mattered. And he always had a family with her, with Pony, with Two-Bit and Dally...With everyone, so even if he wasn't wanted at home, there was always someone missing him. It was a piece of advice he'd never forget, and she'd always made the house seem so happy. Now that she and Mr. Curtis where gone, the silences in between conversations in the house where solemn and sad, and Pony was never the same.
The door opened but he didn't move. He simply watched as the boy made his way outside, taking out the trash. He was alone, and he'd caught Davis' gaze.
"Do I want to know why you're staring at my house?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. Soda was even more beautiful than he remembered him, with his dark gold hair and the heedless look in his eyes. 'Davis' had to stop and stare for a moment before turning away. "...It's a nice house," He offered weakly, but the excuse was bad and he knew it. Soda smiled, and Davis glanced up. What a beautiful smile. No wonder girls where all over him.
"New, huh? What's your name?"
"Davis..."
"That's nice." Soda said with a grin. "Mines' Soda. Nice to meet you, Davis. Where did you move here from?" They'd started walking, and although Davis wasn't sure as to where Soda was leading him, he followed. "Uh...Nebraska," He lied. Stupid! Nebraska? What if Soda asked questions, he didn't know anything about Nebraska! But that had been the first thing that had come to his mind. He mentally slapped himself. "What's it like down there?" Soda asked curiously, and Davis blanked. "I don't know...Kind of like it is here. Small neighborhoods...feels like home."
There was a brief silence. "Where are you staying?" He asked. Davis put a hand to his head, sighing. "Currently? Nowhere. I walked here, on my own. Took me two weeks," He added jokingly.

Soda stopped to turn to him, a surprised look on his face, failing to see the humor in his joke. "Nowhere?"
"Nope. Don't worry, I'll -" But Soda was already talking, cutting him off. "You can stay with me tonight if you want, if the couch is free." He smiled and looked over. Davis nodded weakly, smiling. "Thanks...Soda." Soda grinned, and there it was, the happiness and recklessness that made him so unique, reflected in his expression. "No problem. My friends are always crashing at my place, and we greasers have to stick together, right?"
Johnny nodded, noticing the gas station up ahead. Steve was already there, eating a Three Musketeer bar and motioning for Soda to hurry over. "That's Steve," He explained, pointing to the other boy. "He's cool, don't worry. You can stay with us and hang if you've got nothing better to do."
"I'd like that." Davis smiled,hanging his head as they walked towards the gas station. Being back in the company of friends made him feel alot better - He just hoped he wouldn't let anything slip in conversation. He had to choose his words very carefully. One slip up - If he said something wrong, something only a close friend of theirs would know - Then his new identity was useless, and he'd have to go back without doing any good. It was 7:00 when they started heading back to the Curtis house. He felt his stomach doing flip flops as they approached it.
"Davis," Soda laughed, hooking an arm around his neck. "The girls where all over you today!"
He couldn't help but blush, looking at the ground. "Don't know why. I'm ugly," He replied, smiling weakly. "At least, compared to you."
Before Soda could reply, the door of the house opened, and Johnnys heart stopped when he saw the face. "Dally," He whispered, backing away slightly. Steve turned, a strange look on his face. Had he heard? Davis swallowed and looked at him before glancing back at Dallas.
He looked exactly as he remembered him - Light blonde hair, pale skin, dangerous eyes. But something was different. He looked sick, like he'd been throwing up and not sleeping. A ciggarette hung out of his mouth and he simply looked at Davis once before turning and walking away. Davis turned to watch him walk, the sunset in the background made the sky look as if it was on fire.
Soda pulled him inside as he entered, and Davis' eyes widened. The whole gang, almost - Two-Bit was on the couch, and Darry was in the kitchen.
"Darry, this is Davis. He's new and needs a place to spend the night." The older boy looked up, waving, before going back to cooking. "Davis, this is my older brother Darry."
"Nice to meet you," Davis said with a smile.
"Hey, Soda brought a pet home!" Two-Bit laughed. 'At least he hasn't lost his sense of humor,' Davis thought with a grin. That was a relief. He couldn't stand himself if Two-Bit lost his sense of humor because of a thing like death. "Davis, Two-bit. Two-bit, Davis."
Steve leaned over, murmuring into the new boys ear, "He thinks he's funny."
Davis couldn't supress a laugh. He stopped suddenly, looking to Soda. "You have a younger brother to, don't you?"

Soda tilted his head. His expression was puzzled. "...How would you know that?"

"I mean..." He trailed off. "I'm just curious if you do or not. I didn't mean for it to..." Soda put an arm around him again, holding him close. "Aw, don't worry about it, I know what you mean. You don't have to get so nervous when you talk," He laughed, backing up. "I do, actually. Want to go meet him?"
Davis took a deep breath, nodding. For a first day, this was going very well. And when he fell asleep on the comfortable couch and started to dream, he'd see Dally.

But Ponyboy first. He missed him, alot. Him and Pony had been so close, spending all those nights in the church feeding off of Bologna. It had been one hell of a ride, hiding from the police, cutting their hair...Now, the situation made him laugh and smile. It had been silly, now that he thought about it, that they'd hid for so long.
He followed Soda through the living room and down the hall, pushing open the door to Ponyboys' room without thinking about it. The boy looked up from his desk - A paper sat on his desk with a big red "A" on it. Figures. Ponyboy was always a good student, except for right after the accident. There was so much going on then, it was hard to keep track of anything - let alone grades. "Pony! Pony, this is Davis. He's going to spend the night and he wanted to meet you -" Soda was cut off. Two-Bit had yelled something, but Davis couldn't make it out. Something about a cat, maybe? He'd heard the word 'fluffy'.

"Okay, bye!"
He hurried to the living room, leaving Davis in the door way. He leaned against the frame of the door. It was hard not to embrace the other, to tell him everything.

They talked for a while. Nothing that important. Names, girlfriends, things like that. "So you're new here?" Ponyboy finally asked. By now Davis was next to him on the bed. "Yup. Got here today."
"Oh..." He looked at the ground. "I guess you haven't heard yet, have you? Or did Soda tell you?"
Davis tilted his head, pretending to look confused. "What?"
"My best friend died here a few months ago," He said sadly.

There was a pause. Davis wanted to think of something comforting to say, something to ease the pain in his best friends voice.

"I know what it's like to lose your friends like that...I know it hurts."
Ponyboy explained the events in a low voice - He didn't like to talk about it, but Davis was the one who had asked, and he was only giving a quick summary. He stopped, shaking his head once he had gotten to the part about the Church.
"Listen, I'm going to be right back. I need to grab something from the living room..."
He was gone about fifteen minutes. Eventually, Davis started to wonder what was taking him so long. He reached over to the paper on the table, the one with the big "A" on the front. It was long, about fifty pages or more - At least, he guessed so. "Damn..." Davis flipped through the pages, stopping to read a little bit before flipping back to the first page. Ponyboy wrote really well, and he smiled, realizing in the first paragraph what it was about. It was about him. Him and Ponyboy. About the week of hell they'd endured a few months before. And he'd gotten an A on it. With wide eyes, he kept turning pages. The last page, stapled to the back was what caught his eye. 'Ponyboy, I asked the nurse to give this book to you so you could finish it...The doctor came in a while ago, but I knew anyway...' He remembered that doctor. He had been nice to him, and he remembered the cold voice that had told him he only had a few days left. He didn't think to much of it - You had to be cold when you where a doctor. When your job was to tell people they where going to die, being cold was the only way to keep yourself from feeling miserable - At least, that's the way Davis saw it. He continued reading it aloud, sighing at the end. Was that really his handwriting? He held the paper close to him and sighed, shaking his head. "All that matters is that I'm here now. I can tell him, make up for all of this..." He whispered to himself, and he lowered his head to stare at the floor.
He didn't hear Ponyboy return to the room with his backpack. "I can fix everything," He whispered, biting his bottom lip.
And when he did look up, he could see the annoyed look on the boys face. "...Why ...are you reading that?" Was the first things to come out of his mouth. The second? "And what are you talking about?"

'Oooooh, shit.' Smiling nervously, Davis set the report back down on the table. "...I was curious," He answered, looking at the ground in embarrassment. Ponyboys' expression softened. 'He's so...sincere. Reminds me of Johnny...' He looked up through his bangs, swallowing. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have been going through your things anyway..."

Smiling nervously, Davis set the report back down on the table. "...I was curious," He answered, looking at the ground in embarrassment. Ponyboys' expression softened. 'He looked up through his bangs, swallowing. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have been going through your things anyway..."

Pony took a seat next to him, smiling weakly. "It's...okay. It's just a school thing, anyway." That was a lie, and Johnny knew it. He knew it because Pony wouldn't have kept it if it was just a stupid school thing. It was a reminded, a constant reminder of him, because Pony never wanted to forget Johnny. Never, never, never... Davis smiled suddenly, eyes on the paper. Ponyboy reacted to this by tilting his head, and the older of two looked up, grinning. "You really miss him...don't you?" Silence rippled through the room, before crashing down like a wave. Ponyboy nodded, letting out a sigh. "I miss him more and more every day..." More silence. Davis, without realizing he was doing it, wrapped an arm around Ponys shoulder. And Ponyboy, enjoying the strange and yet comfortably familiar touch, leaned his head on his chest.

"I'm sure wherever he is, he misses you to," Davis whispered, "More than you know." Ponyboy shook his head, eyes shut in disbelief. "I miss him more than he could ever miss me. I looked up to him because he was older than me...I got to know him really well before he died. I wish I'd taken time to learn more about him sooner..."

"Think about it this way," David said, leaning his head to rest against the top of Ponyboys. "You lost him. He lost everything."

For a moment, Pony looked up in understanding, and Davis' smile dissapeared. They sat there for a long time, quietly, thinking, in the dim light of the lamp, before the knock at the door startled them out of it. Davis quickly took his arm back and stood as Soda stepped into the room - It was bed time, and he turned to smile at the two brothers. "Goodnight," He said, making his way towards the living room. He closed the door behind him, and it made a low 'click' as it shut.

Sitting down on the couch, he hadn't realized Darry was in the room. It was so...quiet. 'Deathly quiet,' He thought, amused slightly by his joke. He laid down, cuddled up against the pillow, before he felt a blanket thrown over him. Glancing up, he noticed the older of the Curtis brothers, and smiled gratefully. "Thank you..."

"No problem. 'Night," He called, turning to make his way down the hallway, to his room. There was a silence, and Davis had had to much silence for the night. He had to speak up, say something, to break it. "Hey...Darry?" He asked slowly, quietly, unsure of whether asking his question was a good idea or not - But he had to know.

"Yah?" The footsteps had paused, waiting.
"Is Pony...I mean, is he ...okay?" Davis sat up, looking over the back of the couch. Darry had started to walk back towards the living room, nodding his head. "Of course he's okay...Why would you ask?" Davis smiled, and in the dark it was eerily like Johnnys' sad grin, the one Darry remembered like yesterday. "I'm just...worried is all. We talked for a while...He's having a hard time getting over his friends passing...He's depressed about it. I felt bad for him..."
Darry listened, closing his eyes for a moment to think. Finally, he murmured, "We're all having a hard time with it, but he must've told you how close they where...before he died. He'll be okay. He's strong, he can pull through this..." Right. The person I should be worried about is Dally, Davis realized, suddenly eager to fall asleep. "Yah...Goodnight," He said, burying his face in the pillow and covering his body in the blanket. "Night," Darry replied, walking off. He waited, waited until the footsteps where gone and the talking in Pony and Sodapops room had ceased, before he decided it was safe to fall asleep. Darkness took him, but it wasn't frightening like in death. It was calm, soothing, anesthetic. When he opened his eyes next, he'd be himself again, an illusion. He'd be able to talk to the person he cared about most, and his last thoughts before sleep where '' Only a week ". Could he really help Dally get over his death in only a week?

He didn't know yet. But he knew he'd have to try.