I awoke to Darry shaking me, and cursed myself for falling asleep. I wasn't supposed to, I was going to stay awake 'til I heard about Pony. Groggily, I opened my eyes.
"Come on, Soda, they're gunna let us see Pony," Darry was saying. All of a sudden, I was wide awake. The nurse that Darry was standing next to started walking towards the elevators, and I followed as fast as I could. Darry was close behind.
The pediatric ward was on the third floor, and I swear it took ten minutes to get up there. It stopped once on the second floor so more people could file in, and that took forever. I tapped my foot impatiently.
Finally, the door opened once more, and I resumed my fast pace behind the nurse. We stopped outside Room 315.
"He's still sleeping, and I don't know how coherent he'll be if he wakes up. The doctor will be in shortly, but come get me or another nurse if he does wake up." She left us standing outside the door.
I gripped the handle, and opened the door quietly as I could. I knew Pony was probably still in a deep sleep, but for some reason I felt like I'd wake him if I made too much noise. More than anything, I wanted him to open his eyes and tell us he was okay, but I also wanted him to get better. I knew sleeping would help.
Pony lay in his bed, on his side, facing us. Blankets that had once been tucked underneath him, lay strewn every which way.
His bleached hair was dark against his white pillow, and sweat ran down his face. A bag filled with clear liquid hung from a pole, attached to an IV, stuck in Pony's arm. He made no movement.
I knelt down so that I was level with his face, pushing the hair out of his eyes. It was damp. I held onto his hand, whispering to him. Darry knelt down by me, too.
I to stay calm, but my heart was breaking. First Johnny, then Dallas, and now Ponyboy. A sob caught in my throat, and it hurt to swallow. I turned to Darry, and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. Letting go of Pony's hand, I hugged him back.
Feeling the sobs racking through Darry as well, I hugged him even tighter. Even Darry's breaking.. I thought. Was there really no hope?
I took Pony's hand once more and squeezed it, not breaking away from Darry. We would be okay. We had to be.
XxX
Steve and I arrived at the hospital early, early on Sunday morning. Like, before six in the morning. Shit, I'd only seen this ungodly hour a few times, and it was always after a night of drinking, and having to walk home drunk.
This time, it was serious though, and I wasn't going to complain. I helped Steve to the elevator, it was a struggle for him to walk because of the ribs, and we rode up to the third floor.
"Steve," I said.
"What?" He asked, sounding tired and irritated.
"What room is Pony in?"
"I dunno, I just know it's on the third floor."
Soda had called to tell us the room number, but in my haste to get out the door, and due to lack of sleep, I'd forgotten it; if I'd ever heard it in the first place. I knew the third floor was the kid's foor, though.
Deciding it'd be better to ask someone than amble around like idiots, I asked a nurse where Ponyboy Curtis's room was. 315. I knew that. Steve was waiting in a plastic chair by the elevator. I helped him up once more, and we slowly shuffled to the other end of the hall.
The door was shut, and I hesitated before opening it.
"What the hell you waitin' for?" Steve asked impatiently.
"Nothin'," I said. I turned the knob and quietly opened the door. It was mostly dark in the room, a small light came from around the corner, but that was it. Apart from a light beeping, it was also quiet. Slowly, Steve and I walked inside.
Darry wasn't there, but Soda sat in a chair beside the bed. He stood up and walked over to us. While he and Steve spoke quietly, I made my way over to Soda's vacated seat. I sat down. Pony lay on his side, blankets tucked close under his chin, asleep. A blue bruise covered his left eye. A thick strip of gauze wrapped around his head, dried blood on his temple.
I reached out, and gently pushed his damp hair back. Heat radiated at my fingertips, and tears welled in my eyes. My heart started to tear again, and I felt the same awful feeling in my stomach that had been there a few hours ago. Oh god, I thought. I can't think about them right now..
I tucked the blanket closer to Ponyboy. His forehead creased for a minute.
"Soda.." he mumbled wearily. "Soda? Darry?"
Behind me, I heard Steve and Soda stop talking. Soda walked over.
"Shhh.." he whispered to his little brother. Pony's mumbling stopped, and he eased back into sleep.
"What's wrong?" I asked, a bit startled.
"It's the fever," Soda said softly. "He's delirious."
Tears welled in my eyes again, and guilt overcame me. I didn't understand it. I had stolen almost everything I owned, and didn't once look back on it and feel bad. Lying was hardly beneath me, but Pony had been sick, and I knew it. And I'd lied for him. But now I felt so guilty. It worsened when Darry walked in the room carrying a cup of coffee, his eyes blood-shot, and basically looking like a disheveled mess.
I couldn't stand it anymore.
"It's my fault," I blurted out. Everyone turned and looked at me, and I looked at the ground. A painful silence ensued, and I rushed to fill it.
"Pony.. he.. He was sick, earlier today, or yesterday or whatever. He was burnin' up, an' he made me promise not to tell anyone, an' he'd take aspirins, but now.. now.. He's really bad sick an' it's my fuckin' fault.." It was getting hard to talk. I was suddenly feeling really hot, I almost couldn't breathe. Tears fell down my cheeks. Damn, I couldn't even remember the last time I'd cried.
"Two-Bit, it's okay," Darry finally said. "This whole thing is my faul; I shouldn't of let him fight in the rumble." I looked up at Darry, he was talking to me, but looking at Ponyboy. I wiped the tears from my face, and stood.
"I'm so sorry, though, Darry. I still should of told you."