Chapter 2. Yearning for a Muted World

He was the first one up and figured that he might as well make use of it by cooking.

The only sounds were the sizzling of the eggs and Two-Bit's soft snoring from the couch. Two-Bit had been too drunk last night to even drive lopsided, which was a record even for him. Darry, being the responsible one, hid Two-Bit's keys in Two-Bit's own shoe.

Pony smiled softly as he listlessly moved the spoon amongst the scrambled eggs as he thought about himself bleeding in the bathroom with Steve and Two-Bit standing close to him, checking his wound.

The wound that he still didn't have a lick of memory of even obtaining.

It had happened over a week ago, and he hardly thought about it. But when the days were quiet and the ambiance just right, that moment would filter its way into him. And he would find himself unconsciously slipping back to it. Just like how he was now.

Even though he kept on brushing it off, there was a deep seated instinct in him that told him that something just wasn't right. It kept gnawing at the back of his mind, and sometimes he just wished that it would gnaw that part of his brain off so he could stop thinking about it once and for all.

He turned off the stove with a click.

Why didn't he remember any of it?

Shouldn't he have at least remembered the name calling and the teasing that always took place before the socs decide to bash him a good one?

Did he black out?

But if he blacked out, Steve and Two-Bit would have noticed, right? Surely, they would have noticed if he fell unconscious or something of that sort. It was hard to miss someone falling flat on their face.

Pony started to mindlessly scrape the eggs off the bottom of the pan. Some of the eggs were starting to stick. Damn old frying pan and its adhesive bottom.

Or maybe there was no mouthy soc's fanfare that time and they just went straight up to his unexpectant form and slammed his head in. Maybe they decided to pass up on molding the climatic fear this time. But that pretty much took out all of the fun, didn't it? But he wouldn't put it pass some socs, they liked to play dirty. Perhaps he did black out temporarily and by the time Steve and Two-Bit had gotten there, he was awake, but just too disoriented to get his bearing straight until he was shuffled into the bathroom.

Pony reached for some dishes on the top cabinet and slowly started to arrange them around the table.

That must be it.

It had to be.

It was the only thing that made sense.

There was nothing wrong with -

Clash.

Pony jumped back with a start while Two-Bit gave a surprised snort from the couch before promptly falling off the couch with a thud and a groan.

Before he could think about getting anything for the shattered mess, Two-Bit came running in from the living room while a shirtless Darry came pounding in from his room. The sound had effectively woken up two of the three sleeping occupants.

"What happened?" Darry blurted out as he looked Pony over. "Are you okay?"

"What the hell was that?" Two-Bit asked before he saw the shattered dishes and then he just grinned. "Oh, nevermind."

"Sorry," Pony apologized sheepishly. He had accidentally dropped three dishes all at once. "I was putting the dishes on the table. I guess I misjudged the distance or something."

Two-Bit laughed as he put an arm around Pony's shoulder and teased him. "Pony, how did you miss the table? It's like right there. No wonder why you're on track and not basketball. Your aim sucks."

Darry gave an aggravated sigh as he took in the sight of the mess. He would have to buy new dishes with their already tight budget now. He was tired enough since he had picked up extra shifts at work, hoping those extra shifts would give him more leeway for next month's bills. Now that hope was shattered, just like the dishes.

"Ponyboy, you need to start paying attention to what you're doing and get your heads out of the clouds." Darry snapped somewhat harshly.

Pony shrank into Two-Bit's hold and Two-Bit's smile somewhat fell. At that moment, Pony kind of wished that the noise had woken up Soda. Soda always knew how to calm Darry down. Pony, well, Pony just only seemed to know how to anger him.

"Sorry," Pony mumbled again, his eyes opting to stare at the shattered mess rather than Darry's frustrated face. He'd seen Darry's annoyed face enough to know it by heart now anyway.

"Then get your head on straight." Darry looked at the clock before shaking his head. "I got to get ready for work. Clean this mess up, Ponyboy."

Pony nodded as he started to sulkily get the broom from the low cabinet.

"Don't mind Darry too much. He's just stressed." Two-Bit gave Pony a reassuring pat after the bathroom door shut and the water started to run. Pony just nodded mutely. He already heard that before. "Hey, it's okay, Pone, I got a lot dishes at my house. I'll bring some over."

"You sure?"

Two-Bit gave him an easy grin. "Sure, I'm sure. Heck, I eat here more than I eat at my own home sometimes. My mama says I might as well move in here."

Pony gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Two-Bit, you're a real pal."

Two-Bit waved it off. "I better wake up Soda before Darry tries to skin him with the mood he's in."

Two-Bit walked off as Pony finished the sweeping.

As he placed the broom away, he hissed and bit back a moan as his felt a stray piece of glass embed itself into his foot. At least it was his foot and not Darry's. Darry would have had a real fit and would have complained that Pony was once again not being careful or, in this case, thorough.

"Great," Pony mumbled as he hobbled over to the trashcan. He sucked in a breath as he pulled the glass free without a second of hesitation. "Stupid glass."

Pony sighed as he chucked the glass into the trashcan.

His fingers were now stained red from the blood and his foot was throbbing and slowly painting itself red. The blood was starting to collect at the end of his foot, and drip steadily into the trashcan. He was making his own little, red ocean in that smelly trashcan.

Red.

It reminded him of Steve's bloody DX rag.

And that only reminded him of those annoying socs and his memory blank.

He didn't want to think about it.

He hated it.

Aggravated, Ponyboy shut the trashcan lid solidly.

His foot hurt.

But it was okay.

His foot was okay.

And he was okay.

He just had to be.

"That's total horse shit, Soda!" Steve flung his cards at Soda as Soda cackled madly and called Steve a sore loser.

Pony loved Soda, really, he was his brother after all, but, damn, he just wished Soda would shut up. Any other day, he would have loved to hear Soda's laugh, but the moment he woke up from his nap, he felt as if there were mini fireworks going off in his head. The loud laughing from the living room was not making it any better. He vaguely wondered if this was what a hangover felt like.

The headache had come in the form a steady, and pulsing pressure right above his temple. He tried to ignore it at first and trudge on with his day. But after an hour, it had gotten bad to the point that the words on the pages of his book were starting to blur and his brow was starting to collect a light sweat. That's when he decided to take a nap, hoping a nap would douse the thing.

Unfortunately, he had woken from his nap with something fierce, instead of a subsiding and possibly nonexistent headache. Soon after his headache had re-announced itself in an uglier form, Soda and Steve made themselves known.

"Was Soda and Steve always this loud?" Pony wondered as he massaged his forehead and silently made his way to the kitchen. He didn't even bother to check if Soda was preoccupied this time, as he shook out five aspirin and swallowed them dry. He almost choked, but he managed to get them all down the same. They needed to buy more aspirin. This bottle was almost empty.

"You're such a cheat, Soda. I ain't giving you my cigarettes."

His head was killing him.

"Stop being so soured, Steve. A game lost, is a game lost. You should learn to play better."

Pony moved quietly and stood between the junction of the corridor and the living room and just watched them with hollowed eyes.

"Cocky bastard." Steve leaned against his chair and took a swig of his beer. "I should just learn how to cheat better."

God, he wish he could mute them. Actually, he wish he could mute the whole world. His hand found its way back to his temple. Kneading, kneading, and kneading the skin between his finger and skull. There were so many fireworks in his head, and they weren't going away.

"That's the spirit." Soda laughed as he leaned down and tried to discreetly pull the card that he was hiding in his sock out.

Steve snorted. "You sound like Two-Bit.'

Pony wished they would leave for a drag race, or go hang out with some girls, just...just leave him alone to peace, and quiet.

"Speaking of Two-Bit, where is he?" Soda dropped some of his hidden cards into the pile with Steve being none the wiser. Pony would have smiled at that if his head wasn't trying to kill him.

Steve burped and scratched his leg. "He said something about meeting Dally at Bucks. Apparently, Two-Bit is - well, it seems Sleeping Beauty is finally awake."

Pony stiffened as Steve made eye contact with him, but he was quick enough to drop his hand from his forehead before Soda turned around in his chair to get a good look at him. He didn't want or need Soda coddling him right now. A hovering Soda was usually a talking Soda, even if it well intentioned. He just wanted peace and quiet.

He could actually see strings of white light skating across his vision from the headache now. Ha, it really was like seeing fireworks, just minus the sound, but plus the pain in his head.

Soda beamed at the sight of him. "Hey, Pony, did we wake you?"

"No," his voice was lower than normal, only slightly above a whisper. It hurt to hear even his own voice. He just wanted to mute the world, even himself now.

His older brother must have notice since Soda made a face."You okay, Pone?"

"Sure."

"Kid just woke up, Soda." Steve remarked as he gathered the cards around him and started to shuffle them for another round. He flipped over an ace and stuffed it in his jean pocket. "His brain isn't fully awake yet to be a smart ass."

Soda turned around and kicked Steve in the shin for that. "Shut up,"

Steve seemed amused.

"Wanna play cards with us, Pone?" Soda hooked a thumb at Steve. "Steve sucks."

"No," Pony leaned against the corridor wall, and Soda must have noticed because he beckoned him to come fully into the living room, but Pony remained rooted where he was. It was nicer here in the junction. It was darker here. Light was filtering in from living room window. He knew from past experience that sharp light only made his headaches worst.

He just wanted to curl up and sleep in a dark and muted room...or just world… or maybe outer space? The headache was making him feel kind of loopy.

He wanted to be left alone.

"It's Friday," Pony said monotonically, "Aren't you and Steve going to a drag race?"

He said a lot words. His head hurts worse now.

This wasn't a headache.

This is what people call migraines, right?

Aren't migraines supposed to a worser version of a headache? Because all those commercials on TV made migraines out to be the equivalent of being whacked by a bowling ball. His head sure felt like it was being set up to be hit. They had pills for those. Those migraine people must make a lot of money, because if Pony was experiencing migraines, then it hurt, and he wouldn't mind paying money to make it go away.

But they didn't have money. So, he had to shut his mouth and swallow the pain and hope that aspirin was enough.

"Yeah, we were wondering if you wanted to come this time."

Pony eyes trailed over to Steve, who was still shuffling and not daring to look at Pony. It must have been Steve's suggestion then. Steve was trying to be nice ever since the whole incident at Windrixville. A whole two weeks of the two youngest gang members pulling a mandatory houdini and suddenly Steve is Mr. Nice. Pony would laugh if he could. Why did Steve decide to be nice now? The irony. He was a pain even when he was trying to be nice to him.

Soda looked at him expectantly. Of course, Soda was probably the happiest at the thought of his best friend and his baby brother being buddy buddy. Pony didn't like to dash Soda's hopes like that, but he just couldn't. He could barely handle normal in door voices, much less loud, revving engines and shouting fanatics. And car exhaust. Those fumes would rattle his brain cells a good one.

"I'd rather stay home." Pony tried to smile, but it felt quite forced. It must have looked quite force, too, because the smile didn't seem to appease Soda none.

He couldn't tell if Soda was rocking in his chair, or if it was just his headache playing tricks on him. Those stupid fairy lights were still swirling around the room, too.

Soda's face fell, but before Soda could say anything, Steve spoke up, and quite awkwardly, too. "It's cool, you know, kid. If you wanna come...then come. We don't mind, and, uh, Soda said you can come...so...do you want to?"

Steve seemed to acquire a stuttering impediment whenever he tries to be nice. For a second, just for a fraction of a second, Pony's headache lessened. Suddenly, he smile came easier too.

"Thanks, but," Steve and Soda's face fell again. "I don't feel like going today."

"Why?" Soda pushed, gently.

He couldn't really say he had a terrible migraine. He didn't want to sound like a baby. He leaned more heavily against the wall. Why was this conversation so long? Maybe his head would hurt less if they all learned how to do sign language. But maybe all those dizzying hand movement would make his head hurt, too. It seemed like everything made his head hurt at the moment. Was this how a normal migraine felt like? This bad?

"Tired." and before they could ask, he added. "Track meet. Coach drilled us."

In reality, his most recent track meet was three days ago, and he definitely wasn't still feeling its effect, but they didn't need to know that. He was just glad that Soda didn't have his track schedule ironed into his brain like Darry did.

"Maybe next time then, Pony?" Soda asked hopefully.

"Sure."

"Darry will be home at seven. He's pulling an extra shift." Soda stood and clapped Pony on the back, hard. Pony internally winced as he could practically feel his brain rattle inside his skull. It was like his brain was being ping ponged around.

He wasn't sure if he had closed his eyes too long, or what, but for a second, his vision had went starkingly black. Pony blindly planted himself closer to the wall so he wouldn't topple over. His breath caught for a second, but then his sight quickly came back.

When his vision cleared, Soda was at the door and Steve was looking around for his jacket. There was just a sort of odd relief watching them getting ready to go, and leave him here in a silent house.

"See you later, Pony," Soda went out the door, tired of waiting for Steve to find his jacket.

Steve settled on one of Soda's jackets instead. Soda and Steve seemed to switch jackets all the time now, anyway. Steve paused next to him, and Pony couldn't help but internally sigh. Why were they talking so much today?

"Maybe next time then, kid?" Steve's voice was oddly soft and gruff at the same time. It was a weird mixture. Dally sometimes sounded like that when he was lecturing Johnny and him. Maybe the headache was warping up his hearing, too.

"Yeah, sure," Steve nodded, and turned to leave, and because he felt somewhat guilty for practically shitting on Steve's endeavour of being nice, he quietly added, "Thanks, Steve, for you know...that."

A ghost of smile appeared on Steve's face, and this time he added with more assurance, "Yeah, next time, kid."

Then the door slammed behind him and they were gone, and he was enveloped in silence.

As soon as the door slammed closed, his finger found its way back to his forehead. Massaging. It was as if lightning was crackling through his head and making his vision swim with bleary darkness and then blinding brightness.

It went from fireworks, to ping pongs, and now lightning. This migraine was horrible. What was wrong with his head?

He grappled back to his room and closed the door to his room behind him and pulled his curtain tightly together. He didn't want any light seeping through.

Pony collapsed back on his pillow, his vision swimming and his head still pounding. He felt oddly cold, even though he was sweating earlier.

It was just a migraine.

People get those all the time.

It was normal.

But even when he told himself that this pain, this migraine, was normal, he couldn't help but hear Steve's confident words echoing in his pained head.

Yeah, next time, kid.

Rolling onto his slide, he tried to fall asleep. But his depraved and torturous mind wouldn't let him sleep, but instead it kept on echoing a question that made his stomach churn.

Is there going to be a next time?

A/N: Hi,fellow readers! So I wrote the first half of this chapter (before the line break), over a month ago, but I didn't post it since it was too short. Yesterday, it rained. And I say, rainy weather really does good things to my muse. I just love to read and write when it rains. Thus, I wrote the rest of this chapter yesterday during the storm. The second half of the chapter was easier to crank out, but I don't know if I like it or not. I had a good feeling about it when I wrote it, but then I read it this morning, and I don't know. Sorry if there was little to no action in this chapter. I actually updated a lot faster than I usually do, because I'm terrible when it comes to updating. So, yayyy for rain!

Thank you so, so, so much for all the lovely reviews, follows, and favorites! I really love them and I always read my reviews over and over again. I know some of them verbatim, even. There is still some conflict on whether or not Pony will survive this or not. And one guest made a very brilliant deduction (It's going to be hush hush for now, though ^^)!

Pony is starting to have doubts, but he's still in denial land, too.

What do you think? You like? You hate? Want to vomit?

Anyway, please R&R. Reviews inspire me and make me happy. No flames, please. Constructive criticism is welcomed.

Reviews before this posted chapter: 24

(My goal is to have this number always go up after every posted chapter. So, help me bring it up. ^^)

8.18.17