12. Together

My friend looked rough. That was the first thing I noticed when he froze on the sidewalk in front of me. The cut on his face would have made him look real tough if he hadn't been so skinny and scared, the new blond hair making him look even younger. He'd lost a lot of weight, and his clothes hung off his shoulders awkwardly.

But more than that, when he'd been walking toward me, not noticing me, he'd looked scared. And when he looked up...before he'd recognized me, it had been like he'd been folded in on himself, his shoulders up, his eyes barely meeting mine at first. He looked...broken. A faded bruise surrounded one eye, and he wore a long-sleeved shirt despite how hot it was. He didn't look like Ponyboy anymore. In his place was some guy that had been beaten down too many times.

I should know...it was the guy I saw in the mirror every time I bothered to look.

As soon as I spoke to him, he seemed to crumble, the bewildered look giving way to relief so strong I didn't know if I could stand it. He threw his arms around me, holding me so tight I could hardly breathe, but I didn't mind none. I had been right...he'd been alone. Completely alone. Not anymore though. He sobbed into my shoulder, his shoulders shaking, and I patted him on the back like his brothers would, not saying nothing. I didn't need to. We usually didn't need to say anything to each other. We knew each other better than that. All these years, he'd been there for me, even though he was younger. Now I would look out for him.

He shook for a long time, even after I pulled away a little and put my hands on his shoulders. He rubbed at his eyes, shaking his head and trying to talk, but he just dropped his head, giving up. "I'm sorry," he finally managed, his ears red like they always were when he was embarrassed.

"You ain't gotta apologize. I'm glad to see you too, Pone."

The way he looked at me, like he'd thought I was dead instead of it being the other way around, made my chest hurt. "I didn't know...I thought I'd never…"

"Hey, don't say that." I shook him a little, feeling strong now that I was the one reassuring him. "It's gonna be fine, man. Alright?" Not wanting to talk about it on the street, I nodded toward the door. "Can we go in? I knocked but no one was home." He nodded real quick, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed our reunion before hurrying up to the door and ushering me through.

The apartment was pretty bare. Just the couch and some tables. The lamps were off and Ponyboy didn't turn them on. Instead, he just dropped onto the couch where there was a pillow and I assumed he slept there. I sat beside him, my shoulder against his as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring straight ahead like he was in shock or something.

I knew I'd been right to come. "It's gonna be fine," I told him again, hoping I sounded reassuring instead of scared like I felt.

Dally had dropped me off at the bus stop, waiting until the bus came and sending me off. Thankfully I'd found that money in my old man's wallet, or I would have been out of luck. Dally hadn't been lying when he'd said he didn't have any money. He had swiped me a loaf of bread and some bologna at the gas station, though. The bus ride had seemed to go on forever, but, following Dally's instructions, I'd called as soon as I'd gotten there, and he'd told me to call again when I got to James's place. I hadn't yet, but I figured I'd wait until the guy got home. Or woke up. Pony hadn't actually said where he was. Pony hadn't really said much of anything. He glanced at my bag, rubbing his face again, and turned to me.

"You hungry? I got some food…"

"Sure," I told him, figuring he needed to be doing something. Besides, something other than bologna sandwiches sounded good. He stood, moving careful, and I watched him close, the way he kept his head down when he walked, and how he glanced back at me when he stepped into the kitchen, almost like he thought I was about to disappear. Reaching into a cabinet, he opened up a box of spaghetti and poured the last of it into a pot of water, turning up the heat and standing back. The kitchen was pretty bare, and in the cabinet he'd opened to get the pasta, there were two more boxes, and that was it. "Man, I can get my own food…"

"It's fine," he assured me.

"I mean...it's that guy's food…"

"Nah, I bought it," he assured me. "James doesn't have any food. I have to get my own."

"Yeah? What does he eat?"

Pony grinned a little. "No idea. Beer, maybe. I've only seen him eat once."

I snorted, but I couldn't help thinking he looked like he hadn't smiled in a long time. He was so hesitant...still scared looking, even though it was just us. As he turned to grab the pasta sauce from the fridge, I caught his arm, not missing how he flinched.

"Pony?" He stared down at me, but the way he looked, I still felt taller. He'd grown some though, and he looked more like Soda…well, if Soda had blond hair and was starving to death. "You okay?"

"Yeah…" He ran a hand over the unscarred side of his face. "I'm glad to see you, Johnny. I missed you."

"I missed you too." He strained the spaghetti, leaving a lot of the water in, and mixing in just a little pasta sauce. I noticed how careful he was...he was short on money and short on food, and I didn't have much money either, especially if both of us were going to eat. After he mixed the pasta sauce and the spaghetti, he spooned most of it onto one plate and a little onto a second one, handing me the full one. I didn't argue with him. Still, I couldn't help but ask. "Pone, ain't you hungry?"

He shrugged. "I'm used to it."

I flinched at that as I followed him to the card table in the corner. He always had been honest with me. Me and Sodapop. The others he was pretty quiet with. Always had been, but even more after their parents had died. At the table, we both scarfed down our food, and he grabbed the dishes, taking them to the sink. I kept an eye on the living room, wondering where this James guy was. I didn't want to ask though...I didn't know how to ask. So as he did the dishes, I stared at the table, trying to figure out what to say. He finished the dishes, turning and leaning against the counter, but we were both saved from saying anything when the front door was thrown open. Pony jumped but calmed down when a guy in a leather jacket stepped into the kitchen, eyeing me, then turning to Ponyboy.

"You having parties without me, kid? Who's he?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow but not looking particularly angry.

Pony gave him a sheepish smile. "This is Johnny. He's...a friend of Dally's."

James went wide-eyed then, turning without a word and storming into the living room, grabbing the phone from the table by the couch. I traded a look with Pony, both of us moving to stand in the living room, him looking kind of scared. I propped an elbow on his shoulder, leaning against him, and he smirked at me little while James dialed whoever it was he was calling.

The phone rang for a long time, but apparently, the other person finally picked up. "Dallas?" he snapped, "You send another kid up here?" I snorted a little then, dropping my head so James wouldn't see. "Look, man, I...I know you went…" He sighed, apparently interrupted by Dally's rather loud voice on the phone. Dallas spoke for almost a solid minute, and by the end, James was rubbing his forehead. "Fine. Here." He thrust the phone at me and I took it, smiling a little at the guy, hoping to thank him, but he just stormed off, slamming his bedroom door. Pony watched him with a grimace, arms crossed tight over his chest, flinching at the noise.

"Hey, Dally."

"He's gonna let you stay, but you and the kid gotta get jobs quick if you wanna eat. I'm assuming the kid hasn't got one yet?"

"Nope. I don't think so."

"Do that quick. He's probably almost out of money and you don't have much."

"That's fine. We'll figure it out." And I believed it. Pony needed someone to help him out, and I could be the one to do it for once. My parents were nowhere around...no one here knew me...it was perfect.

"How's the kid?" he asked quietly, sounding kind of worried. "He ain't called."

"Not great," I told him, trying to be honest. Ponyboy was watching me closely, and I didn't want to say too much, so I kept my voice quiet. "Scared." I kept it short, hoping Pony thought I was talking about myself.

"Yeah. I don't blame him after what he saw." He was quiet for a minute. "He eating?"

"Doesn't really look like it." He sighed on the other line. "I'll take care of it," I told him firmly, and he snorted.

"Yeah, alright. You two, be careful. Tell Pony I'm working on things here, and tell him that his brothers know, so he can call them. And call from a payphone. James doesn't want to pay long distance."

"Sure thing, Dal."

"Alright. Take care of yourself kid."

"Okay. Bye, Dal." I hung up the phone, turning to Pony. "He said you can call home. Soda and Darry know." Pony nodded, about to say something, but James came out with his jacket still on.

"You…" He pointed at Pony, looking more tired than angry, which was a relief. "Give him the tour. Stay outta my room. And if Dallas sends any more kids up here, they're sleeping on the porch, got me?" He pointed a finger at him, but softened his words a little by messing up Ponyboy's hair as he walked by, and Pony gave a half grin.

"Yeah, I dig."

Waving over his shoulder, he left the apartment and slammed the door.

"Is he…"

"He's always like that," Pony assured me, then proceeded to give me the fastest tour he could, pointing from where he stood to the two doors off the living room. "That's the bathroom. Don't go in his room. I haven't found blankets yet, but we can probably find some for you. It's hot here at night anyway. You can sleep on the couch. I'll take the floor."

"No way, man. I ain't taking your bed. The floor beats the ground anyway." He didn't argue, just nodded and shrugged a little. We needed to talk, but I had a feeling he wasn't ready yet. "Let's go to the store...get some more food. I didn't bring much, but I got some money."

"Where'd you get money?" he asked, eyes narrowing in confusion, and I grinned.

"My old man's wallet. Figured he owed me after everything. After that bus ticket, I got ten dollars left. Should last us a while, but we're gonna have to get jobs."

"You stole from your dad?" He looked more impressed than disapproving, so I smirked.

"Yeah, figured he owed me. So where's the closest grocery store? Let's go spend some of his money."

It turns out the closest grocery store wasn't too far. The streets were pretty crowded, not like home, and all sorts of people crowded around us as we walked. I guessed it was because it was kind of late...rush hour, which was a problem back home only if you were driving, which we never really did. I didn't have my permit or anything...hadn't even bothered trying for it. Two-Bit had offered to teach me to drive once or twice, but he was drunk most of the time these days so I didn't bother taking him up on it. I knew he was just worried about Pony, like everyone else. I wondered when Dal would tell everyone that I was with him...and if that would make them worry less or more. Probably more.

Steve would probably teach me too, or Soda or Darry, but they were all so worried about Pony and his brothers were so busy working more and trying to save money in case they needed a lawyer or something. I didn't like bothering them, especially now that they were so busy. I had been staying with Dally more often, not wanting to bug them, but some nights it was just too far to walk and Darry had assured me that I could come by any time.

Ponyboy led me to the grocery store, glancing around as we entered. It bugged me, seeing him like this. Like me. I shook the thought off, grinning easily when he looked over at me and grabbing a basket. "Alright, what should we get?"

"Uh...pasta's cheap. So's rice."

I headed toward the aisles, him following along, and I grabbed more pasta, then headed to the back to grab some chicken. The whole time, he stared at his feet, walking behind me, not offering any kind of input on what I was buying.

"You want anything else?" I asked as we headed up to the checkout counter. He shook his head, so I paid and we carried the bags back to the empty apartment. It wasn't until we were putting the groceries away that I finally found the courage to say something. "What have you been up to up here?" I asked, figuring it was a good place to start.

"Uh...just...hanging around. Found the library. Read for a while. Went to...a church on Sunday."

"Yeah? You stopped going after Two-Bit just about got us kicked out."

He smiled a little, nodding. "Yeah. It was...uh...interesting."

"Cool, man."

"That's about it." He shrugged. "I need to look for a job. Haven't really been looking much yet. I got some money left...just didn't really know where to look."

I nodded, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and pouring me some water. He put the chicken in the freezer and I glanced over his shoulder, but found nothing other than the chicken he'd just put in there and an ice cube tray. What did James eat? Maybe he kept his food in his room...not that that made any sense, but surely the guy had to eat.

"We can look around tomorrow," I suggested. I didn't know what kind of job we'd be able to find, but we could at least look, and I could get a sense of what the city was like. He kind of had a head start on me there. From what I could tell this wasn't a great part of town, but no one had bugged me when I'd been walking from the bus stop, stopping at a filling station to get directions. The guy had given me kind of a funny look, staring down at the address on the scrap of paper for a minute.

"You uh...turn on this road…" He'd given me the directions, looking the whole time like he wanted to ask me something, but he'd just waved goodbye, telling me to take it easy. I had a feeling Pony might have stopped by on his way to this place and asked for directions.

For a minute, we stood in awkward silence, and I wondered how I was supposed to get him to talk to me about all this. He saved me the trouble, though. "You wanna take a shower? I'm gonna look around and find some blankets."

"Sure man," I told him, figuring it couldn't hurt after two days on a bus, and spent the entire shower trying to figure out how to talk to him...what I was supposed to say. He was my best friend. Why was it so hard to talk to him now? Of course, I knew why. He'd watched someone murder his foster sister...and who knew if that was all they'd done to her. And then the same people had almost killed him . He was scared. I didn't blame him.

When I got out of the shower, I found Pony in the living room, sitting on the sofa, a pile of blankets on the floor. "You sure you don't want the couch?" he asked, but I shook my head, using three of the blankets as a bed and leaving the fourth one to cover up with. It would sure beat sleeping outside in the lot. "You must be tired...after that bus ride. I couldn't really sleep on the bus."

"Yeah, it was rough." I laid down on the blankets, but it was hot enough that I didn't need to cover up with one. He switched off the light, and I heard him lay down, even though it was only about nine-thirty. I was exhausted, but we had to talk. I couldn't just let him live with this alone. "Talk to me, man," I almost whispered, staring up at the ceiling in the dark. It had just gotten dark out, so the only light in the room was from the moon, barely shining in the window.

"About what?" he asked, but he couldn't fool me. He knew what I meant.

"Your foster brothers...the guys you lived with, came to the house. Talked to Darry and Soda. Told 'em that guy beat on you all the time…on all the kids there. They said he'd put out cigarettes on your arms when he caught you smoking." I hesitated. "That why you ain't been smoking?" I hadn't been able to help noticing it…before, Pony would have smoked half a pack by now, especially considering how nervous he always was.

"Can't really afford it right now," he mumbled.

"What else did he do to you?" I asked, letting the words out and regretting them as soon as I did. What an awful way to ask that. "I mean...you can talk to me about it. If you want. You know my parents...they beat the shit out of me and screamed at me...kicked me out of the house all the time. So whatever it was...you can tell me." He was quiet and I tried something else. "Can you tell me about the girl?"

"Lianne?"

"Yeah."

He sighed beside me. "She came to the foster house after I did. She was...loud. Liked to fight. She fought back when he went after her. The rest of us just kind of...tried to avoid him. She didn't." He hesitated. "We walked to school together. Sometimes we snuck into the movies too. She liked 'em. And, uh...she stayed after school at the library to study. She was real smart."

"She sounds great."

"She was," he all but whispered. He took a deep, shuttering breath, and I knew he was gonna tell me something else then. I sat up a little, wondering if I really wanted to hear this but knowing he needed to say it. "I was hiding at this bar, you know? He...Richard, had friends all over. The police. Bartenders and hoods and...hell a few bikers. But the bar out by the high school...I'd never seen him there. And when the bartender caught me sneaking in, he gave me a cherry soda and told me to stay out of trouble. I'd go out behind the bar and sit. There were lights out there and I could read books I got at the school library or do homework…I tried real hard to keep up with my homework and stuff. I went there every weekend, especially on Sundays when the library wasn't open. I always went home before they closed though."

"How come?" I'd figured Pony would have slept out there before going home.

"I...I just did," he mumbled, sounded embarrassed or scared or something. "That night...a few weeks ago...I was at the bar. Out back. I was reading...the lights were bright by the back door, and...the cars pulled up. Lianne...she was in the truck with Richard and he threw her out...the other guys...his friends...they were surrounding her. She couldn't...she screamed but one of 'em hit her." He choked on his words and I scooted closer to the sofa. "I didn't do anything, Johnny. I couldn't...I was so scared. He had a knife. They got her on the ground...one of them was a cop! They...he...all of them…" He was breathing real shallow, gasping on the sofa, and I got up, kneeling in front of him and grabbing for his hand. He squeezed mind, hard. "I just sat there. I couldn't move." He was shaking as he sobbed, and I stood, pushing him to sit up, then sitting beside him and wrapping my arms around him.

"You don't have to…"

"I tried to protect her. He'd go after her sometimes and I'd try to help. But at the bar I couldn't...they put something in her mouth so she couldn't scream. Then he stabbed her. They...they'd already dug the hole...out behind the bar."

I squeezed his shoulder harder, rubbing a hand up and down his back. "You couldn't have fought all of them. You know that, right?"

"I didn't even try," he almost shouted it, but his voice seemed to die in his throat, and he went back to whispering. "They saw me...by the bar. I...think I...I think I yelled at him or...I can't remember. But one guy had a knife and another one had a busted bottle." He pointed to his face. "The cop got me with a broken bottle. I don't know if he had his gun...guess he figured it would get too much attention. Another one cut my side but...I got out of the jacket. That's how I got away. Richard grabbed the sleeve."

"They found your jacket. Darry and Soda thought you were dead...hell, before Dal explained, we all did, man. I thought it was gonna kill 'em. I never saw Darry so upset. He misses you so much. Sodapop too. Heck...everyone misses you. And I couldn't let you do this alone, you know? Once I found out you weren't dead, I had to find you." He leaned his head against my shoulder and I held him tight, knowing I wasn't his brother but hoping I could comfort him since Soda wasn't there.

"I didn't even try," he whispered.

"If you had, you'd be in that grave with Lianne," I reminded him, patting his back. "They would have killed you. Hell, they tried."

He nodded, wiping his face. "Are they okay?" he asked. "Darry and Soda?"

"No." I couldn't lie to him. "I mean...now that they know you're alive, they're a lot better. At some point Darry put a hole in the wall, but everyone's too scared to ask why." He laughed, still crying a little, but sounding better. Less scared, and more like my friend. "Two-Bit's a wreck. He thinks it's his fault. Steve's pretty upset too."

"Dal said it was because Soda wasn't no fun anymore."

I snorted. "He really ain't. Doesn't go out or nothing...just sits around the house most nights. Man, he misses you more than anything."

"I miss him too."

"Yeah...they got their cards. They loved 'em...about started crying. Darry especially. Things ain't the same without you, ya know?"

He nodded a little, sniffling in the dark and wiping at his eyes.

"Hey, we're gonna be fine. We'll get jobs and figure things out up here, and they'll take care of things down there."

"You don't know this guy, Johnny. He knows everybody...grew up with a bunch of crooks that became police officers. No way anyone's gonna believe me if I tell them what he did. Everybody loves him. They talk about what a great guy he for taking in so many problem kids."

"Dally and the guys are working on figuring that out. Don't worry. You ain't alone anymore, man. I'm sticking around, long as James doesn't kick me out."

"I don't think Dal will let him," he told me, and I heard the grin in his voice.

"Nah...probably not." I sat up and stared at him in the dark. I could barely see, but I hoped he was feeling better. "We'll be fine. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay." And he almost sounded like he believed me.

I pat him on the back, moving back down to my makeshift bed on the floor. I had just closed my eyes when I heard him lay back down. I was glad...he looked like he needed to sleep. And eat, but we'd have to deal with that later.

"Thank you for coming, Johnny," he mumbled, reaching down and touching my arm. I grabbed his hand, squeezing for a second.

"Anytime, Pony. Anytime."