4. Nightmare

"She's here."

Darry's words took her aback, and she paused in the doorway when he put the phone back on its cradle, moving towards her.

"I'm not late!" she defended herself on autopilot, glancing at the clock to be sure, then moved to the side when Dally pushed past her. But Darry wasn't mad, and he didn't yell at her. Instead, he grabbed her shoulders and gave her a quick once-over, like he was checking to see if she was hurt. Then, stunning her into silence, wrapped her in his arms.

Held close to his chest, his hands pressed to her back, she wanted to break down and bawl like a baby. How long had it been since her big brother had hugged her? Since she'd wanted him to? Darry would keep her safe. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her, not ever, even if he didn't want her around anymore. But he couldn't know what she'd done. No one could. So she just kept her hands in the jacket pockets to hide both the scrapes and the shaking, going stiff until he let her go. "What's going on?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level.

"That her?" Soda poked his head around the doorway from the kitchen, then sighed in relief, coming over and throwing his arm around her shoulders. He looked like he'd been worried, but she wasn't sure why he would be. She really wasn't late…it was only 8:30. "Hey, Pony. You okay?"

"Yeah?" she told him slowly. "What's the matter?"

"Two-Bit called. Said some soc got stabbed at the drive in." Soda squeezed her in a hug. She kept her hands in Dally's jacket pockets, too scared to let them see her torn up hands…too scared that they'd start connecting dots. "He went looking for you but he said he didn't see you around anywhere."

"My friends wanted to leave early and I ran into Dally and Johnny," she told him with a shrug like it was the most normal thing in the world for her to hang out with Dallas Winston.

"She was gonna walk home alone but I told her to stick around so I could walk with her. We split when the fuzz showed up," Dallas put in from the kitchen, sounding as unbothered as ever.

"Ain't this your jacket, Dal?" Soda asked, plucking at the shoulder of the leather jacket she was wearing and looking puzzled. Usually guys only gave their jackets to girls they were seeing, and she wondered if that rumor would be going around, or if people were too busy thinking about Bob to think about her.

She sure hoped so.

"The kid wasn't wearing one. Didn't want her to freeze to death," Dally told him with a shrug, coming back into the kitchen with a beer he took a long drink of. Pony hated beer, but she wondered if drinking some might get her hands to stop shaking.

Pony ignored the reproving look Darry shot her, turning and heading to her room, not able to stand the thought of any more questions. She had to get out of that living room and pull herself together. She didn't worry too much about Darry, but Soda could read her better than almost anyone. They couldn't think she was acting weird…they couldn't know anything was wrong. "I'm gonna take a shower," she called over her shoulder, hurrying to grab clothes from her bedroom, then stepped into the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind her, knowing that no one would bother her for a while.

She leaned against the back of the door, closing her eyes taking deep breaths, the quiet of the room closing in around her. She didn't want to think about it. There was no point in thinking about it because it was done and she couldn't undo it. Shaking her head like that would keep the bad thoughts away, Pony turned the shower on with a hand that ached and shook, leaving a smear of blood behind.

Just the sight of that blood on the hot water knob made it all flash in front of her like she was there again. Bob's hands on her stomach as he undid her pants. His hot breath against her face. The feeling of the knife going into him, hitting resistance before going all the way to the hilt. His gasp…the noise it had made when she'd yanked the knife out, and his body had rolled off of her.

The sound of another kid dying right beside her. A kid that she'd killed.

Her stomach turned over then, bile rising in her throat, and she dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, gagging until everything she'd eaten in the last few hours came up. Her stomach muscles cramped and she gripped the toilet seat until her fingers ached, hoping she was being quiet enough…hoping her brothers couldn't hear her over the sound of the shower. When it finally stopped, she flushed the toilet, dropping back against the wall, shaking so hard her teeth chattered and staring at the toilet but not seeing it.

She'd killed him. She'd stuck a knife in someone and killed them and if anyone found out, her entire life was over.

It took a long time, but the thought of her brothers wondering what she was taking so long for got her up, and she stripped out of her clothes, climbing under the spray of the water, which had mostly cooled. She didn't care. She just grabbed the soap and a washcloth and scrubbed every inch of her skin as hard as she could until she couldn't feel Bob's hands on her anymore. Her hands ached, the torn up skin on her palms stinging from the washcloth and soap. But she didn't care…didn't care about the pain or the cool water or the way she couldn't quit shaking.

She had to pull herself together. She had to think.

No one had seen her. No one had been around. But had any of Bob's friend's known he was there? Had Bob spotted her before she'd spotted him? Had he followed her to the bathrooms? Had he told his friends that he was going to catch up with her to…whatever it was he'd been planning? Could anyone connect her to him?

She cleaned the blood off the knob, then shut the water off, shivering from cold now…or maybe it was still shock from what she'd done. She didn't know. Either way, she dried off, then, still wrapped in a towel, grabbed Soda's bloody knife and the gallon jug of bleach from under the sink. Using the washcloth she'd used to clean herself up, she soaked it in bleach and scrubbed the blade until there wasn't a speck of blood left, then scrubbed it again for good measure.

Pony stayed in the bathroom for longer than normal, but neither of her brothers knocked on the door, and, leaving Dally's jacket hung up on the back of the door and hiding the knife and washrag in her bundle of clothes, she went straight back to her bedroom, closing the door and listening to it latch with a sigh of relief. She pressed her ear to the wood, closing her eyes and holding her breath, and after a moment, she heard Soda's soft voice.

"Are you sure nothing happened to her?"

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest, but when Dally answered, he sounded totally normal…like he hadn't found her laying next to a dead body just an hour or so ago.

"Nah, man. Her friends left. I went with her to get some drinks and popcorn. Then she sat with us." She could just picture him shrugging like nothing was wrong. "She wasn't wearing a coat so I gave her my jacket. When they found him, we left."

"She's fine, Soda," she heard Darry tell him, and she sighed in relief, glad for once that her brother didn't seem to know her anymore.

She heard them talking about her sometimes when they thought she couldn't hear, him and Soda. Sodapop was usually the one worried about her, and she knew she wasn't acting the same anymore, not since their mom and dad had died, but she didn't know how they could just keep going like everything wasn't messed up. Like Darry didn't want to get rid of her.

Once, a few weeks ago, she'd sat in front of the door and had listened to Soda question Darry while she was supposed to be doing homework, both of their voices soft as Darry had been making dinner.

"There's something wrong with her," Soda had told him, not knowing she'd had her ear pressed to her bedroom door, holding her breath so she could hear better.

"What do you mean?" Darry had been distracted like always. Disinterested, after a long day at work.

"I mean…just look at her, Dar! She…she doesn't hardly talk to us anymore! She's been in her room ever since we got home. Barely said anything. She's been like this for weeks."

She'd heard Darry sigh then. "I don't know what you want me to say, little buddy. Her grades are good, she's running track…"

"Is that all you care about? Her grades? Damn it, Darry!"

She'd sat up then, not wanting to hear anymore…not wanting to hear Sodapop try to convince Darry that something was wrong with her. He hadn't tried to talk to her yet, but she knew he wanted to. She figured she was safe for a while though, since she doubted he knew how to bring it up without talking about their parents, and they never did that.

Now she listened to the front door slam shut, Dallas calling out a goodbye as he left.

"You've gotta stop worrying about her so much, little buddy," Darry said from the kitchen, and she reached up, silently turning the lock on her door just in case.

"Oh, like you weren't worried," Soda grumbled.

"Yeah, I was worried before. But she's home, and she's fine."

"She's not acting right, Darry. You've got to see that."

She sat up again, shaking her head at herself. There was no reason for her to keep listening…Darry didn't listen. And she didn't care. It didn't matter..she had a plan.

Avoid Darry. Get good grades. Run track. Get a scholarship. Go to college somewhere far away.

Pony put the blade back into her nightstand, throwing her ripped shirt and the washcloth into her trash and dropping her pants into her hamper. She'd take her trash out the next day, and no one would ever know. Easy, she told herself. All she had to do was follow the plan. Act normal and keep quiet. Unlocking her door, she switched off her light and crawled into bed, not caring that it was too early for her to go to sleep. She didn't want to risk her brothers wanting to talk…didn't want to risk questions about a movie she barely remembered or friends that didn't exist. Because if Sodapop started asking questions, she'd probably break down and tell him everything, and she couldn't do that. She had to do what Dallas had said…she had to keep her head down and keep her trap shut.

Pulling the covers over her head, she closed her eyes, taking deep breaths and trying not to think about it…none of it. She didn't want to think about Bob or his hands on her or his mouth smashed against hers…shuddering, she rolled over and buried her face in her pillow, curling up as small as she could get. She'd washed all that off, she reminded herself. And now she could just forget about it.

She had to forget about it.

Knuckles rapped against her door a little while later, but she stayed quiet even as her door opened. Praying Soda would go away, she tried to make her breathing even like she was asleep. Footsteps approached her bed, then the covers were pulled back a little off her face, and she grumbled like she was being woken up, hoping that would make him go away. But before she could tell Soda to leave her alone, the back of a hand pressed against her forehead.

"Pony? You feeling alright?"

It wasn't Soda, she realized with a start. It was Darry! Opening her eyes, she squinted up at him, surprised at how…nice he sounded. She hummed in agreement, hoping that would make him leave.

"It's awful early for you to be in bed, kiddo. You getting sick?"

"I'm fine. Sleeping," she muttered, hoping he took the hint.

She couldn't bear it if Darry started being nice. Not right now. That might just break her.

"Alright, Pone," he murmured, smoothing her hair back, and she almost told him right then. She was so close…if he'd just stayed for another few minutes, she might have spilled it. But he patted her shoulder, pulling the covers more firmly around her. "Night, kiddo."

"Night," she whispered, closing her eyes and, once the door was closed, she hid her face in her pillow again, her tears soaking the fabric the last thing she knew before she eventually fell into an uneasy sleep.

Trouble sleeping was nothing new for Pony. As a little kid, she'd climbed into bed with her parents or with Soda or Darry all the time, knowing that if she could just be close to someone she loved, she'd be safe from whatever hid in the dark. She mostly grew out of that by the time she was nine or ten, though. Then, right after her parents had died, she hadn't been able to remember the nightmares that had made her scream in her sleep, scaring her brothers half to death…hell, she hadn't wanted to remember them. But the one she had that night, she remembered. She remembered Bob's hands on her skin and his mouth pressed to hers and the way he'd reached for her zipper…she remembered the gravel under her back and the knife in her pocket, only in the dream, she couldn't get to it! She couldn't get the knife and she couldn't make him stop!

She was screaming when she woke up, Soda's hands on her shoulders shaking her awake, and before she even knew what she was doing, she was throwing herself into his arms, sobbing into his shoulder instead of her pillow, huddling against him as she tried to hide from a guy who was already dead.

Soda had always been the best at comforting her after a nightmare…had always been the first one in the room, holding her and rubbing her back and promising that she was okay…that she was safe. He'd never gotten angry, even when she'd woken him up a few hours before he had to get up for work, or when he'd just gotten home from a long night out with Steve or Sandy and wanted to go to bed. Now was no different, only this wasn't like before. This wasn't a nightmare she couldn't remember that she suspected had something to do with her parents and their car on an icy road. This was a memory…one she feared might never leave her. Still, she hid her face in Soda's shoulder, knowing that no one could hurt her while he was with her.

"Easy, honey. You're okay," he murmured, rocking her back and forth, and she clutched him tighter…so tight that she worried she was hurting him, but he didn't complain. "It's alright,"

Someone sat down on her other side and she felt Darry's hand on her back. "Pony?" he asked, voice still gentle, and her tears came even faster. Why was he being nice all of a sudden? Darry hated her! He wanted to get rid of her! If it wasn't for Soda, he probably would have sent her away to an orphanage by now. But when he talked to her like that, so nice and like he'd been before, she wanted to tell him everything and beg him to fix it for her.

They couldn't know, though…she'd never be able to live with the shame of it if they knew. She knew what people would say…that she shouldn't have been alone. That she shouldn't have let him get so close. That she'd asked for it. And Darry would be even angrier with her and if the fuzz found out…they'd take her away. And Darry would probably just let them. Write her off. He'd finally be rid of her and he'd be glad about it.

"I'm fine," she tried to tell them, forcing herself to let go of Soda after a minute, but he just looked at her, worried, his hands still on her shoulders. "Sorry I woke you up."

"That's alright," Soda murmured just like always.

She didn't look at Darry but his hand rubbed circles on her back and she wanted to scream because it wasn't fair! None of it was fair!

"Nightmares again?" Soda asked, trying to smile like it was no big deal, but this was different…even if he didn't know it, everything was different now.

Still, she nodded, only looking at Soda. "Yeah," she whispered. It had been a nightmare, technically. Just not the ones they were thinking about.

"You remember any of it?"

Pony shook her head, tears drying on her cheeks. She was a good liar, even with her brothers, and she sure as hell couldn't tell them what it had been about.

Darry squeezed her shoulder, and she forced herself to look in his direction, even if she didn't meet his eyes. "Go back to sleep, kiddo," he ordered, taking charge like he always did, and she nodded, letting Soda give her one last hug before they both got up. Soda lingered for longer than Darry, tucking the covers around her like Mom used to when she was little, and a giggle escaped when he wrapped her up so tight that she could barely move.

"Stop," she told him with a laugh. "I can't hardly breathe."

"You don't need to breathe. You're sleeping," he whispered, a grin in his voice, and she managed to free an arm, swatting at him as he left. "Night, Pone."

"Night," she called softly, closing her eyes once he'd shut the door behind him. It was fine, she told herself, shifting to find a cool part of her pillow. She was fine. She could do this, just like Dally had said. Act normal and keep her trap shut. And one day, hopefully soon, the nightmares would stop, and she could forget any of this had ever happened.

Thanks for reading!