Pre-story author ramble: I'm reposting this story because when I tried to post it earlier it said that it didn't exist. I think that this is story is one of the best works that I have ever written. I was sitting in class when it suddenly hit me that I wanted to write a sweet little ficlet that demonstrates that even though Johnny is dead, he will always be in Ponyboy's heart. I know it sounds cheesy, but it really isn't.

Disclaimer: I do not own ­The Outsiders.

Tulsa was unnaturally cold for the time of year. Temperatures dropped to an all time low and stayed there as cold front after cold front swept in. Many businesses had closed indefinitely as usually warm Oklahoma was not prepared to deal with icy roads and snowy sidewalks. Practically every street was deserted in favor of heated homes.

One lone figure briskly walked down 8th Street, wishing that he would have worn a warmer jacket than the one he had on. He was relieved when he arrived within a block of his house. The boy, Ponyboy Curtis, would have enjoyed the beautiful night sky if not for the fog of his own breath blocking his view.

Pony heard the distant cracks of ice and slowed his pace to turn around. He turned around and began walking backward in order to pinpoint the one noise that interrupted the silent night. It was a gray pickup truck careening down the road adjacent to 8th Street. It had to be going 45 miles at least, in a residential neighborhood. Without warning, the pickup turned a sharp left onto 8th street. It hadn't even bothered to slow down even a little for the stop sign.

Pony could only gape in horror as this gray monster barreled down on him. He attempted to dash toward the sidewalk, but after he had taken one step the truck hit him hard. It was a surreal feeling for Pony to feel his body flying through the air up and over the truck. He hardly felt his torso hit the hood or his head hit the windshield. He wouldn't have even noticed how hard his leg struck the icy ground if it wasn't for the sickening cracks that went with it. All Pony could do was lie on the freezing cement in disbelief and horror as the demon gray sped away and out of sight.

Nothing hurt at first, so for one sweet moment Pony thought that he was all right and could just get up and walk it off. That though lasted for only a moment though. After that one moment, the blinding pain hit him full force. He couldn't breathe… couldn't think… couldn't see clearly.

In the corner of his bleary vision Pony noticed the still silhouette of someone sitting next to him on the street curb. Pony's brain felt foggy. He couldn't for the life of him produce a single lucid thought.

Slowly, so slowly, he turned his head to stare at this mysterious figure straight on. In an effort to reduce his double vision, Pony squinted his weary eyes. The person didn't move as Pony focused on the stranger's face. If Pony had been completely alert he would have been shocked at whom he saw; it was Johnny. For one sweet moment it was just like old times. They were just two buddies hanging out together on the street.

"Too bad one of us is dead and one is dying," thought Pony tiredly.

"You're not dead yet Ponyboy," Johnny said urgently, as if reading his thoughts. "You've got to get up right now before the shock kills you."

Pony knew that what Johnny said was true, but he was too tired to move. He could no more lift his limbs than beat Darry in a wrestling match. He was so tired. With finality Pony's eyes drooped shut.

"Ponyboy! You need to wake up right now." Johnny's voice was urgent with desperation. "Don't go to sleep, you'll die! Get up. Don't go to sleep. C'mon! Get up!"

Deep in the recesses of his mind Pony knew that he couldn't deny his friend of something he sounded so desperate for. He also knew that if he didn't do it quickly he wouldn't have the nerve to do it at all.

In a couple of seconds time Pony threw himself up off the street and lurched onto the sidewalk. Pony groaned at the new pain that ferociously attacked him. He fell to his knees and grabbed onto an icy chain-link fence for balance. Johnny was crouching next to him in an instant.

Insistently he encouraged Pony to get home quickly.

"Good Ponyboy, the hardest part is over. Now you only have to walk less than a block. You've go to get warm."

Sluggishly, Pony lurched toward his house. Every single step was pure agony. Every small movement shot furious pains throughout his brain and body. Throughout it all though, Johnny stayed right beside him: encouraging him, prodding him, but never physically touching him. A look of desperation and urgency never deserted Johnny's face as he pushed Pony to go further.

Finally, after what felt like days of one agonizing step after another, Ponyboy Curtis reached his front door.

Bleeding profusely from his head, torso and leg, Pony staggered to his room and collapsed onto the bed. Johnny hovered over him anxiously. Johnny hovered until he cajoled Pony to turn onto his back, nagged Pony to put a pillow under his feet and coaxed him to cover up with a blanket. Only after Pony did all this did Johnny finally seem to relax.

Pony on the other hand had never been so tired in his life. His breath was ragged and his chest was on fire. He looked fondly at Johnny through heavy eyes. He wanted to tell Johnny how he felt, but when he tried to speak all that came out was a gargled squeak.

Johnny smiled understandingly. His hand reached out and hovered over Pony's forehead without actually touching it.

"You're welcome," Johnny whispered softly. "I'll always be with you Ponyboy."

Pony struggled to open his eyes one last time to gaze upon the best friend he had ever had. Green eyes slowly opened to slits, but Johnny was gone. As he fell asleep though, it felt to Pony as if Johnny were still there with him.