Hi everyone! Been waiting for the site to get back on track before I post.

Since I will have text from The Outsiders interspersed in with my original text in this chapter, I'd just like to add the disclaimer that I do not own The Outsiders. All characters and text are borrowed with respect from S.E. Hinton.

Thank you for your continued support. Enjoy!

Pony's sleep was fitful and erratic at best, but he didn't open his eyes for a while after he had passed out. He slept for so long that Two-Bit and Steve decided they, too, would try to sleep. It was only 9pm by that point, but everyone was exhausted from early rising and a long day.

Steve used the cot on the floor brought by one of the nurses, knowing the boys would have to spend the night again (no one was driving in heavy snow.) Two-Bit sat on the floor and leaned back against the wall, nodding off. Sodapop was at the bed on Pony's right side, cradling his own head against his left hand, elbow bent. The other hand fixed Pony's blankets or rubbed his sternum trying to provide some form of comfort. Soda tried to stay awake - he really did - but soon he too was nodding off, too. Darry was the last one to fall asleep, but it didn't take long - he laid his head down on Pony's left sie, at the foot of the bed, so as not to get in the way of the IV.

More hours passed. Ponyboy kept his eyes closed and everyone slept - except Darry, who was too worried to sleep for long periods of time. Still, he figured it was a good sign that Pony didn't stir. Hopefully, he was resting. His fever wasn't exactly going down, though, so Darry kept the washcloths on his forehead and chest, assuming they would help. Then he went back to sleep.

Little did he know the dampness made Pony dream.

"You could use a bath, greaser. And a good working over. And we've got all night to do it. Give the kid a bath, David."

I ducked and tried to run for it, but the Soc caught my arm and twisted it behind my back, and shoved my face into the fountain. I fought, but the hand at the back of my neck was strong and I had to hold my breath. I'm dying, I thought, and wondered what was happening to Johnny.

Pony shot up in the bed, sputtering and lashing out at figures only he could see. The washcloths slid off him. Then came the low-pitched guttural wail that erupted from his throat. This woke everyone in the room like a siren had gone off before a bomb had exploded and there was chaos in the aftermath. Pony paid no mind, only felt at the sheets around himself until he was clutching at Soda's shirt, not even realizing he was clawing at his brother.

"Pony...Pony…" Soda said desperately, his eyes sunken in like he hadn't slept in weeks. He came close, holding his brother up under his elbows and smoothing his hair, trying to calm him to no avail. Pony was drowning in himself.

The next thing I knew I was lying on the pavement beside the fountain, coughing water and gasping. I lay there breathing in air and spitting out water. The wind blasted through my soaked sweat shirt and dripping hair. My teeth chattered unceasingly and I couldn't stop them.

"I can't breathe…" Pony gasped, coughing dramatically, like he was sucking in air and choking on water. "I CAN'T BREATHE! They're going to drown me…"

Steve, who had been jerked awake along with the rest of the boys, suddenly understood and his eyes went wide. "Soda...he thinks they're drowning him! He thinks he's at the fountain!"

Pony had never officially told Steve about what exactly had happened at the fountain. That was Soda the night of the court hearing when Darry had regained custody of his brothers. They had whispered about it on the porch in the thin light between cigarettes, and Soda had told Steve all the details quietly, not wanting Pony to hear them talking about it. But it didn't matter anyway - Pony had been out of sorts at the hearing and he was out of sorts that night too. Darry had told him to go to rest, go to bed early, after a stressful day. But he hadn't needed much convincing.

Soda shook his head and the memory dissipated like a foggy cloud. He gaped at Steve and then at Pony. And then he exchanged worried looks with Darry.

Darry came up to the bed and sat on it behind his little brother, putting his arms around Ponyboy to try and stop his fierce trembling in his arms. Instead of calming him though, this only scared Pony more.

"No…" he whined, "No…" and his body flinched. The tears were running down his face.

I finally pushed myself up and leaned back against the fountain, the water running down my face. Then I saw Johnny.

He was sitting next to me, one elbow on his knee, and staring straight ahead. He was a strange greenish-white and his eyes were huger than I'd ever seen them.

"I killed him," he said slowly, "I killed that boy."

Pony twisted in his brothers' arms, trying to break out of their grasp. "Johnny didn't mean to kill that Soc," he sobbed, his eyes bleary and stunned. He looked up at Soda, his face distressed and miserable. His voice pleaded with his brothers. "He didn't mean to!"

Soda looked at him, cupping his Pony's face in his right hand, and stroking his cheek, "We know, kiddo," he said, "We know. How about we lay back down, honey," he soothed, "Let's go back to sleep."

"You believe me, right Soda?" Pony implored in a high pitched tone and Soda wondered vaguely if his brother could realy see him with his cloudy feverish eyes or if he was just a blur, "You believe me?"

"I believe you," Soda hushed him.

"Come on, kiddo, you need to rest. Let's lay back down," Darry, the controlled voice of reason, spoke up, not quite as gentle. He tried to pull Pony down, but his brother was fixed in his spot. Darry didn't know where the strength came from, considering he was so ill.

Bob, the handsome Soc, was lying there in the moonlight, doubled up and still. A dark pool was growing from him, spreading slowly over the blue white cement. I looked at Johnny's hand. He was clutching his switchblade, and it was dark to the hilt. My stomach gave a violent jump and my blood turned icy.

"Johnny," I managed to say, fighting the dizziness, "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Pony's stomach gave a violent jump and the waves of nausea crashed into him with fury. He was green as he pulled away from Soda and his eyes darted around the room, knowing what was coming.

"I think...I think I'm gonna be sick," he choked out and Darry let go of him.

There wasn't a bowl or an emesis basin in site and the boys panicked for a moment as they frantically tried to figure out what to do. Could they pull him into the bathroom to puke into the sink? Would they let him puke in his own bed? How much time did they have left?

It was Two-Bit who realized immediately that Pony could use the water pitcher at the table next to the bed. There wasn't a lot of water left in it.

It wasn't the best option but it would have to do.

He grabbed it by its handle and handed it to Soda who pushed it under Pony's gagging mouth just in time.

Soda turned away as Pony clutched at the pitcher with shaking fingers. Darry helped the poor boy lean forward over the jug in the nick of time and cringed as he watched liquid and bile explode from his mouth.

Pony didn't have anything substantial in his stomach, but he continued to get sick. His cheeks burned and his head throbbed, and he moaned, wishing he could crawl under a rock and die there.

Darry put one hand on Pony's shoulder to keep him from falling forward and the other hand rubbed his back, trying to provide some form of comfort.

"That's it, Pony. Let it out. You're doing great," Soda whispered to him, turning back to encourage Pony to keep going, despite the twisting of his own heart.

The nauseous feeling didn't leave him even when he finished and there was nothing left to give. His face was hot and his stomach continued to do somersaults.

"Steve, go get some water for him from the bathroom, will ya?" Soda said to his friend and Steve located an empty plastic cup that had fallen over on the table. He went to the bathroom and filled it up with water then brought it up and handed it to Soda who pulled it under his Pony's lips and coaxed him to drink.

Soda could tell his brother was still extremely nauseous by the way he convulsed involuntarily and gulped hard over and over again.

"Go ahead," he said in the same steady voice. "I won't look at you."

I turned my head and was quietly sick for a minute. Then I leaned back and closed my eyes so I wouldn't see Bob lying there.

This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be...

"You really killed him, huh, Johnny?"

"Yeah." His voice quavered slightly. "I had to. They were drowning you, Pony. They might have killed you. And they had a blade... they were gonna beat me up..."

"I don't feel good…" Pony moaned, sagging against the pillows behind him., " I don't feel good…" He didn't speak to anyone directly or look at anyone specifically, so they didn't even know if he understood they were all there.

The pitcher was pulled away so no one would have to smell it.

"I'll go get the nurse," Two-Bit's voice called out from somewhere in the room.

Johnny told me what had happened: "They ran when I stabbed him. They all ran..."

Two-Bit rushed back into the room followed by a middle-aged heavyset woman that no one had seen before. "What happened?" the nurse asked.

Pony shot forward again and Soda was there to catch him. He pushed his face into Soda's shoulder, trying to keep his tears at bay. Soda held him protectively.

"He threw up," Darry explained, " I think he's still nauseous. And he spiked another fever."

The nurse nodded and went to look at his IV, noticing that the bag was empty and he would need more antibiotics. This time she was prepared and worked quickly.

"The medication for sepsis is very strong," she said, after she was done "And his body is working hard to fight the infection," she looked at Ponyboy's back, wondering if she should measure his temperature, then decided on another course of action.

"I'm going to get him some pain relievers and some anti-nausea medication," she said, and bustled out of the room.

A panic was rising in me as I listened to Johnny's quiet voice go on and on.

"Johnny!" I nearly screamed. "What are we gonna do? They put you in the electric chair for killing people!"

Pony shot up and Soda grabbed him. Then he pulled away from Soda and started shaking again.

"I don't want to go to the electric chair," he sobbed, "They put you in the electric chair for killing people!"

Darry gaped at him.

"Pony…" Soda's eyes filled with their own tears, "You didn't kill no one!"

"Where's Johnny?" Pony asked, looking around the room desperately. He was so mixed up, but also exhausted. "He can't go to the electric chair..."

"Pony, Johnny's not here," Soda answered, not certain it was the right thing to say. He pulled Pony towards him again, letting him rest his head against his shoulder, on the side that didn't have the cruel staples. Soda's hand came out again, rubbing his back and hoping it would help Pony relax and maybe go back to sleep.

The nurse huffed her way back into the room. "We're going to have to sedate him again if he doesn't get any rest," she said matter-of-factly.

Lucky for them, Pony was starting to fall back asleep, even as the cold liquid snaked its way into his arm. The nurse went to another IV and put in another strange liquid. "For the nausea," she explained, looking at Darry. Soda felt Pony's body relax and go limp in his arms and when that happened he eased his brother back on the bed.

I was shaking. I want a cigarette. I want a cigarette. I want a cigarette. We had smoked our last pack. "I'm scared, Johnny. What are we gonna do?"

Johnny jumped up and dragged me up by my sweat shirt. He shook me. "Calm down, Ponyboy. Get ahold of yourself."

I hadn't realized I was screaming. I shook loose. "Okay," I said, "I'm okay now."