A/N: This is an alternative universe in which Johnny survives the church fire, but is severely injured and now disabled. I did not like the way the book ended, with him dying, but it just wouldn't be realistic for him to not have some sort of injury or permanent disability. So, here's this story. I hope that clears up some potential confusion. I'm not a spinal cord injury patient, nor am I a boy, so this story may be difficult to write, but I'm doing my best with research and stories of real SCI patients and survivors. If there are any disabled or people with SCI or something similar to what Johnny is going through in this story, free to critique and correct if there are any inaccuracies. I assure you they are honest mistakes and in no way meant to be offensive to disabled folks. Oh, and Dally is alive, too.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own The Outsiders. I only own my OCs and idea for this story.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: character death, violence, trauma, sexual, emotional, physical, and verbal abuse. Proceed with caution if any of these subjects are upsetting to you.
Chapter One
Tulsa, Oklahoma
"How are you feeling today, Johnny?" The nurse's soft voice pulls Johnny out of his haze. He's been lying in bed for literal days- he's lost track of exactly how many; time overlaps and blurs when you're bedridden and staring at white walls and a fluorescent light literally 24/7.
"Hurts….," Johnny mumbles, his voice hoarse and words slurred.
The nurse makes a sound of sympathy and concern. "Can you feel anything?"
Johnny closes his eyes. "Can't….feel my back." Despite being bedridden, he feels out of breath, like he's run a marathon. It takes a lot of exhausting and draining effort just to speak. He can barely form the words. "It's numb."
"Numb?" The nurse sounds even more concerned now. And when a nurse sounds incredibly concerned, things are usually not good. "Well, it's no surprise you're hurting and not feeling well- you took quite a blow to your back. Do you remember? The fire, the smoke? The wood falling on your back?"
Johnny can barely muster the energy to shake his head no. "Everything's just….it's all just blank. Like there's nothing there." He can't recall what landed him in the hospital, and why he's hurting so badly. And why he can't feel literally anything from the waist down. It's as if there's a dark numbness there. Like when your feet or legs fall asleep. But it doesn't go away. Why hasn't it gone away yet? What is happening to him? It's definitely not good.
"This is pretty common among patients who have suffered severe, traumatic injury," the nurse explains, as if this is somehow reassuring. "You've suffered severe third-degree burns."
Johnny's heart skips a beat, and not in a good way. He feels his throat tighten. He licks his dry, cracked lips.
"Water?" The nurse notices his discomfort. He nods. She hands him a paper cup with cool water, and tentatively holds it up to his lips till he sucks it all down.
The nurse tosses the now-empty cup in the small garbage can beside the bed. "The burns will leave some noticeable scarring, but it might fade eventually over the years. However." Her face darkens, and he knows good news is not coming. "The impact of your injury has completely severed your spine, which explains why you feel numb and can't feel anything….down there." She clears her throat, then pauses before continuing, "In English, that means you will never be able to walk again. You will need a mobility aid, a wheelchair, for life."
Johnny now knows exactly what it means when people say their heart sinks. "This must be some mistake."
"I'm afraid it isn't." She gazes at him with genuine sympathy. "I would never lie to you. It's literally my job to be honest with my patients. And you're not the first spinal cord injury patient I've worked with, either. You are not alone."
This isn't reassuring- it feels cliche and fake. "Is there….any chance I'll be able to walk? At least a little?"
The nurse shakes her head. "I would never lie to you," she repeats, as if that's supposed to make you feel better. "It will be painful, traumatic, and difficult to get used to. But you will eventually learn how to cope. It will just become a natural part of your life." She smiles thinly.
What part of this is "natural"? It feels like a curse, or some perpetual nightmare he'll never wake up from. His stomach hurts, a unique kind of stomach ache, nothing akin to the flu or any other sickness. But one of pure horror and sheer terror.
"Have my parents….stopped by or asked how I'm doing?" Johnny doesn't want to know the answer, but he can't stop himself from asking.
"No." The nurse shakes her head glumly. "But your friends have."
"You mean, Ponyboy? And Darry?" A spark of hope flickers in him. His parents may not give a damn about him, but at least Ponyboy and the rest of the gang do. If it weren't for them, Johnny would never have known what real love and affection was. They're the closest to a family he's ever had.
"Yes." The nurse smiles and nods. "You've had a couple of very nice visitors. Except for one who was very rude." She frowns deeply, her brows knit with disapprobal. "He told me to go...f word myself."
Johnny smiles for the first time in forever, even though he feels sorry for her, he's amused. "That's Dally for you."
The nurse shrugs. "I'll take your word for it." She sounds like she doesn't like or approve of Dally very much- not many people do. "Speaking of which, your friend called Ponyboy stopped by- he says he's family. He's waiting for you in the hallway. I told him only immediate family can see you, but considering your….," She purses her lips before hesitantly saying, "situation, I'll make an exception to the rule."
"Thank you." Johnny feels rare relief. "Tell him he can come in now." It's exhausting just to speak, and the news that he'll be scarred, emotionally and physically, for life, is still sinking in, but it will be good to finally speak to someone who isn't spitting generic doctor talk to him. "Thank you," he repeats, his voice still hoarse.
"Of course." The nurse smiles and pats Johnny gently on the shoulder, as to not hurt him more. It sounds like you need good company." She adjusts his pillow for him and tucks him in, softly pulling the hospital bed covers over him, snugly. He can't remember if anyone has ever tucked him in, even his parents, in his life. He could get used to the feeling. It's childish, yet new at the same time. "I'll bring your friend in now," the nurse says, before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. He hears Ponyboy's voice, and the nurse speaking in her soft, comforting manner.
Then, before the nurse can say anything else, Ponyboy bursts into the room, closing the door behind him. He looks relieved just to see Johnny alive.
"Oh, thank god you're okay!" Ponyboy rushes to the bed and throws his arm tightly around Johnny. "I thought you were gonna die," Ponyboy squeaks out, and Johnny realizes the said boy is crying, tears streaming down his pale cheeks. "They said you wouldn't survive the night."
"I don't remember any of it." Johnny winces at the sudden sharp pain from the impact of the hug, but doesn't resist the physical affection. He needs this, especially right now. "Not even the church fire or getting hurt."
"That's probably for the best," Ponyboy says sagely, his face grave. "It's….the most horrible thing I've ever seen. But I'm just glad you're okay and alive."
"More or less." Johnny doesn't feel alive or okay. But he won't ruin the moment for his friend who's glad to see him. "Pony, you're kinda hurtin' me….I can't breathe." He chuckles, which is slightly painful too, then coughs.
"Oh!" Ponyboy jerks back, letting him go. "I'm sorry, I keep….forgetting." He frowns, looking at his feet. "About….y'know." He seems almost embarrassed.
"Yeah." Johnny keeps forgetting, too. "Me too."
"They told me that you'll never be able to walk again," Ponyboy says softly, his expression and voice darkening. "I'm so, so sorry, Johnnycake."
Johnny swallows the rising lump in his throat. "Does the rest of the gang know?" He doesn't want to shock or traumatize the other guys when he's finally released from the hospital and can go home. They've already witnessed enough horrible things in their life.
"Yeah." Ponyboy nods. "Don't worry. They know. I told them after your nurse told me."
Johnny bites his lip. "Pony….is my face….horrible?"
Ponyboy looks him up and down, as if second-guessing. "Nup," he says at last, surprisingly nonchalant. "There's a little scarring, but not too noticeable. Only if you're up close. I don't know about your back."
Johnny doesn't know what to say, so he closes his eyes and rests his head back against the soft pillow. He feels Ponyboy still watching him.
He wants so desperately to wake up from this agonizing, hellish nightmare, but he knows, deep in his broken heart, that it won't happen.
Odd, West Virginia
"I told you, I ain't goin' to nobody's house!" Billie thrashes, pulling herself from her mother's tight grip. "I'm in control of my own self! Leave me alone!"
Her mother frowns, disapprovement in her eyes. "Billie Anne Tucker, what did I tell you about raisin' your voice in this house?"
"You do it all the time!" Billie turns her back to her mother, although she can still feel her burning glare.
"Your father and I," her mother says slowly, still sounding frustrated, "have discussed your….problems, for quite some time now, and we've both decided that it would be best if you spent the rest of the year with your cousins, Darry, Ponyboy, and Sodapop."
"You decided?!" Billie's face reddens, how it always does whenever she's angry. "What about me?! What do I get to decide?!"
"You are a child," her mother scolds her, raking her fingers through her curls. "But you're too darn big for your britches. I don't even know you anymore- you've quit goin' to church, gotten into fights at school, smoking and drinking,….Billie, you're just….out of control. It would be in your best interest if you stayed with someone else in the family for awhile. Darry is a great adult figure; he's practically raised Ponyboy and Sodapop, who are his brothers, ever since their parents passed away. He'll guide and discipline you. You sure as heck need it." She always says "heck" instead of "hell." Cursing and taking the Lord's name in vain was not allowed in the Tucker house. "I raised you to be a good, obedient Christian God-fearin' girl, Billie. What on earth has happened to you?"
Billie turns back around to her mother. "What if I don't want to believe in God or go to church anymore, Mother?" A snarl curls her voice.
Her mother gasps, reeling back with shock. Insulting God and Christianity is more of an insult and forbidden than disrespecting her parents- it crossed the line into blasphemy. Insulting her parents is frowned upon, no doubt about it, but insulting God? That's a whole 'nother level of disrespect. It's even worse than disrespecting your parents. However, instead of scolding her, her mother slaps Billie across the face, causing her to step back and stumble momentarily. "Don't you dare," she hisses, her face darkening and glare scalding (if looks could kill, Billie would be dead) "speak that way in this house ever again, Billie. You've done crossed the line for sure."
Billie hangs her head, staring at her feet and refusing to meet her mother's glare.
Her mother purses her lips. "You're going to stay with your cousins. And that's final."
"I don't want to spend a year with a bunch of gross teenage boys," Billie mutters, rubbing her cheeks where her mother had slapped her. "What if they're a bunch of perverts? Besides, I've literally never even met them. How am I supposed to know if I can trust them or not? What if they kidnap me or hold me hostage in their basement and do bad things to me, like in the movies? It happens all the time." Her mother must be crazy if she's seriously considering sending her to live with a bunch of strange boys whom she's never even met. She must be desperate to get rid of Billie.
"Oh, Billie, you're so dramatic." Her mother rolls her eyes. Don't be ridiculous." She waves a dismissive hand. "They're nice gentlemen who stay in school and...," she pauses, her frown deepening, before continuing, "don't do the…., 'activities' you engage in. They'll take good care of you and straighten you out for sure."
Billie rolls her eyes. "I don't need a man to take care of me, Mother."
"You know that's not what I meant, Billie," her mother snaps, her patience wearing thin. "Now, stop back-chatting. My decision is final."
Billie stomps up the stairs, slamming the door to her room and locking it. She flops down on her bed and screams into her pillow.
She has to accept her fate.
She is going to her cousins', and that's final.
What her mother says, always goes.