Thank you all for your kind messages and for your patience. I am feeling better now, though still saddened. I would have updated yesterday, or at least sooner, but I got overheated yesterday and was sick to my stomach. We don't have air conditioning back here in the computer room, just a bunch of fans and they weren't doing very good. I couldn't fit everyone's choice of POVs in so it's just going to be the Curtis brothers today. Next time, I'll fit the rest of the gang. Deal?

Soda's POV

I sat up on the bed, watching Pony as he slept. His brows were furrowed together, as though he were in pain or in deep concentration. I didn't know which, though I suspected pain. I didn't understand how, though. Nothing that I knew of had happened to him. I couldn't understand what had brought on last night's episode.

I had heard Darry leave early this morning, earlier than usual. He had tried to keep quiet, I could tell, but I was already awake when he left at four o'clock this morning. I hadn't gotten much sleep because I was so worried about Pony. He didn't stir the rest of the night, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Once again, I wished my parents were still alive. They'd know what to do. They'd fix this. If only they really were alive...

Pony whimpered and I turned my attention back to him. I couldn't see anything wrong, so I just rubbed his back. The whimpering stopped and I returned to my thoughts.

Pony was always quiet. What could be bothering him? Is his silence something I should fear? Will he snap out of this on his own? Does he need help?

The scary thing was I didn't know the answer to any of these things. What do I do? How can I help him?

Again, I had no answers.

Pony's POV

Soda told me to go back to sleep when I awoke for school this morning. I was thankful that he was letting me stay home. I was afraid I'd have another breakdown if I went to school.

I didn't think much about Soda still being home, so I was surprised to find him still there when I awoke at ten o'clock. He was sitting up in bed, staring at the wall ahead of him. His hazel eyes seemed like windows to his mind. He was so lost in thought that he didn't realize I was awake. I startled him when I sat up.

"Pony! You're awake. Gosh, I didn't even hear you," Soda said after he regained his composure.

I just nodded. I rubbed my side. It seemed to ache for a reason I didn't know. I remembered lying on the floor last night when Darry lifted me up and sat on the bed with me. Had I fallen out of bed?

Soda was watching me closely again. I turned my back to him and reached for my wheelchair. It was getting easier and easier to get in and out of it. It wasn't very far away, as usual. No one ever moved it except me and I always kept it close to me.

In one swift motion, I was in my wheelchair. Soda got out of bed and walked around the bed to where I was.

"You want some breakfast?" He asked. I was thankful that he wasn't asking me about last night. I wasn't sure I could explain it to him in a way he'd understand.

It was all brought on by the nightmare. It was unlike any other I had had before and this time I remembered it. It w as as though someone knew all my fears and all my pains and was able to touch on each one. I was surrounded by four figures. I couldn't make out their faces, but their voices reached my ears. They taunted me, saying how I'd never walk again. I was left alone in the dirt as they ran ahead of me. I longed to be able to run with them, to feel the rising pulse within me. I longed to be able to run until my legs couldn't hold me any longer. But that wouldn't happen. I only had one leg and it was dead.

I shook my head no to Soda and wheeled myself out into the living room. I had left some of my school books there and knew I'd have to start working on my English paper soon. It was due in two days. My teachers were lenient with me, though. If I ever turned something in late, they'd take it and grade it without taking any points off for tardiness. It was nice that they were so understanding, but I hated the special treatment. So I tried to turn everything in on time. I was usually good about it because I liked burying myself in work to the point I forgot everything else.

I also needed to write to Johnny. He was probably wondering why I hadn't written, or maybe worrying about it. I usually replied to him the same day. It's been three days since I wrote to him last. I should be writing him, but I didn't have the heart to do it. What would I say? That I'm so depressed that I'm scaring my brothers?

I felt tears come to my eyes. It wasn't fair. Nothing was fair anymore.

My thoughts turned back to my nightmare. I felt a shudder pass through me as I thought of one of the worst parts of the dream. Two of the blurry figures held up a picture. It was the only picture of my parents that we owned. It was important to me because at times I'd forget what they looked at and I'd have to take it out and look at it. They held it up so I could see then it went up in flames as they lit a match to it. I remember screaming in the nightmare. I wondered if Soda and Darry heard.

I then watched as Soda and Darry's faces appeared. They looked down at me with sad looks on their faces. Following the picture, they went up in flames right before my eyes. I knew I screamed loudly that time because I knew they were dead.

I remember trying to get to them, but I was too slow. I didn't have my wheelchair and crawling was hard with the dead weight of my leg. I couldn't get to them. I couldn't save them.

"Pony? Why are you crying?"

I looked up at Soda, thinking he was crazy. I lifted a hand to my face and found it wet with tears.

"I'll be in my room," I said hoarsely. I wheeled myself as fast as I could out of the living room and into my room. I felt Soda's eyes on me the whole time, but I couldn't look at him. I couldn't explain the pain I was dealing with, couldn't place that burden upon him. He had enough to worry about.

I threw myself onto the bed and made myself fall asleep. Maybe then I could forget and escape my pain.

Soda's POV

I watched as Pony wheeled himself quickly out of the room. I didn't know what had brought on those tears. He had just sat there, staring ahead, lost in thought. Then he began to cry without even knowing it. It worried me.

As planned, Darry showed up at noon. He smiled at me when he came through the door, though I could see he was worried that Pony had gotten worse.

When he set down his tool belt, he came around the couch and sat in his arm chair, facing me on the couch.

"How is he?" He asked, sounding worried.

"I don't know. He started crying a couple hours ago, but I don't know why. When I asked him about it, he just went to h is room. I checked on him a little while ago and he was sleeping. He hasn't eaten anything all day."

Darry nodded. I could tell he was thinking. I left him with his thoughts when I went to check on Pony and say goodbye before I left.

Pony was still laying on the bed asleep when I went into our room. He was clutching one of the pillows to his chest tightly, despite the fact that he was asleep. I kneeled down beside his bed and watched him sleep. I brushed his hair back from his sweaty forehead. He didn't have a fever, but he had the appearance of someone who was ill. I patted his arm as I got up.

"Bye, Pony," I said, then turned and left.

Darry was in the hallway, preparing to go into our room when I came out.

"Is he asleep?" He asked.

"Yes. I better get going."

"Okay, little buddy. Have a good day."

"Okay."

I opened the door and headed toward the DX.

Pony's POV

I awoke with the sudden urge to throw up. I lunged for my wheelchair, getting in clumsily because of the speed and lack of care. I wheeled myself as fast as I could to the bathroom, not even noticing Darry sitting in the living room reading the paper.

I flung myself out of my chair when I got in the bathroom so I could reach the toilet better. I placed one hand on each side of the toilet and emptied my stomach.

Darry rushed in as I was finishing. I laid my head on the cold edge of the bathtub. He sank down beside me, brushing my hair back as he looked into my eyes.

"What's wrong, Pony?" He asked me. I had no answer for him.

"Are you okay?" He asked once I sat back.

I nodded, though I didn't feel all right.

"Do you need anything?" Darry asked.

I shook my head no and he got up.

"Let me know if you do, you hear?" His voice was stern, but I knew it was out of concern.

I nodded and he left the bathroom.

I pulled myself into my wheelchair, which had moved farther away from me from the push off I gave it when I threw myself out of it. I reached over and flushed the toilet, keeping my eyes off the contents of my stomach.

I wheeled myself closer to the door. Before I opened it, I studied myself in the mirror on the door. It was the only one I could see my full body out of. All the others were too high up.

I looked at my eyes. They were the most striking to me, but not because they had a nice color to them. No, it was because they looked dead.

Redness rimmed the white part of my eyes from where I had cried so much. But even looking at the colored portions, there was no light, no life to them. I forced a smile on my face. It felt fake, as it was, and it brought nothing to my face. No happiness. No light in my eyes. No life.

It was strange that I could have such lifeless eyes. I used to have such open eyes that people could always tell what I was thinking.

It was different now. I had nothing but sad, dead, eyes that were so lifeless not even a smile could bring light to them.

Darry's POV

I sat in the arm chair, holding the paper in front of me. It didn't hold my attention, though. I kept watching the bathroom door. Pony said he was okay, but no one threw up for no reason. I doubted he had much to empty anyway. Soda said he hadn't eaten anything.

A few minutes later, Pony emerged from the bathroom. I watched as he went straight to his room. I stood. He needed to eat something, especially now that he didn't have anything in his stomach.

"Pony?" I called softly when I made it to the doorway of his room. He was already lying on the bed.

He turned his gaze from the ceiling to my face. The lifelessness in his eyes shocked me. I hated to think that he had given up. But that's what his eyes told me. They told me he didn't care anymore. He was giving up. I had to do something.

"Pony? Come on, buddy, talk to me. What's going on?"

I moved into the room and sat down on the bed beside him. He looked up at me, his gaze giving away none of his thoughts.

"I won't tell you," Pony said, turning back to the ceiling.

"Can't or won't?"

"Won't."

I sighed. If he was going to play stubborn, fine. I could be pretty damn stubborn myself.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me something."

"Then be prepared for a long stay."

Pony turned on his side, his back to me. I watched him lay like that for a long time until I could tell he was sleeping.

I sighed. "Fine. Have it your way," I said to his sleeping form.

Before I could leave, though, he reached out and grabbed my wrist, startling me.

"What is it, Ponyboy?"

He turned to me, looking at me. There was more to his eyes, but it was such a deep sorrow that I felt emotions well inside my chest.

"Stay. Please, Darry. I don't want to be alone," He said, his voice shaking with emotion.

"Okay."

I went back to my side of the bed and laid down beside him. He moved closer to me, reaching out and hugging my arm. He fell asleep like that and I noticed how my arm was beginning to fall asleep soon after. I didn't care. I'd do anything for Pony at this point.

Sadly, part of that was what I went through the other day. The mirror part was all me. The writing to Johnny was how I felt about writing to my friends and the writing the paper part showed how I knew I needed to write soon, but that you'd all forgive me if I didn't. Thank you all again for your support. You're the best.

Hugs to you all!