His fate was sealed as soon as the Social Services counselor knocked on the front door. Three sharp knocks were all it took to change his life.
xXx
Things were going great a year after everything went down with Johnny and Dallas. His hair had, finally, fully outgrown the god-awful blond, and his old tuff hair was back and, in his opinion, better than ever. As a naive fifteen year old, he would of course consider that the most important change, but others would disagree.
He and Darry were… better. Not great, but they were working on it. Sure, they butted heads, authority and rebellion clashing with fury, but it was to be expected. Pony was a stubborn teenager, but he was a good kid- Darry knew that. But, he also knew that Pony wasn't an angel; his intelligence oftentimes got him into more trouble than good, as it came with sharp wit and smartass comebacks. Lately, Pony's been coming home with a busted lip or black eye, but that isn't what concerned Darry; what scared him was the gleam in his eyes of satisfaction and hunger for more.
But, let's not unnecessarily blow things out of proportion. He has been bringing home straight A's, and he's got Steve and Two-Bit to back him up at school. He's a good kid, but with the emphasis on kid.
xXx
To keep things short and sweet, things got a little dicey.
Everyone had been over for dinner and to shoot the shit, as usual. Soda was lounging on the couch with his DX cap over his eyes, head tipped back. Steve was with him in the living room, flipping through channels on the TV. Two-Bit and Pony were out on the back stoop, going through Kools like they were candy.
"So, Pone, what smartass remark did'cha make this time?" Two Bit eyed his bruised cheek, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Ponyboy rolled his eyes. "Why do you always think it's my fault? He started it, I was just defendin' myself."
A beat. "Although, I did call him a chickenshit at one point."
Two Bit chuckled. "Is Superman pissed?"
His face twisted up, somewhere between looking outraged and abashed. "Yeah, he's getting real tired of my antics, I think."
Two Bit looked sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up, kid. You've got a good head on your shoulders and an even better right hook, so-"
They were, of course, interrupted by the three sharp knocks that seemed to rattle the entire house, the people inside included.
xXx
The bruise on his cheek was faint; barely there, really. But it was enough to "raise some concerns" about Ponyboy's living situation. The conversation was short, and he was sent to pack his duffel.
He re-entered the living room, a measly-packed bag in tow. Darry gave him a bear hug. It felt warm and secure, and Ponyboy didn't want to leave it. He gruffly told him not to worry and that he loves him. If Ponyboy didn't know any better, it would've sounded detached. But he knew that Darry was already planning out his steps to get him back.
Soda was already crying, not full-on bawling, but that would come as soon as he was out the door.
"I love you, kiddo. So much. We're gonna take care of this and you'll be home in no time, okay?" He said feverishly, kissing me on the forehead.
Two Bit hugged him, barely keeping it together. Ponyboy worried about him, maybe the most out of everyone he was leaving behind. He hoped his friend wouldn't drink himself to death in his absence.
Steve grabbed him by the shoulders, a soft look in his eyes that Pony rarely sees. Sure, they're relationship was loads better; all it took was for Pony to realize that Steve actually did care and look out for him, and for Steve to start seeing Pony's smartass remarks as endearing instead of infuriating.
"Listen, kid. You're gonna get back here in no time, so don't you worry."
Ponyboy hesitated. "Look after Soda, okay?" He murmured. Steve nodded, and squeezed his shoulders fiercely. Despite his front, he considers the kid as his brother.
The lady, whose name is Ms. Park, puts her hand on his shoulder and leads him out to the car. It was gentle but insistent and cold at the same time.
He didn't look back at the house, preferring to leave the devastating sight up to his imagination.