And so the plot thickens…. -ominous music-

Thanks again all you wonderful reviewers! You make my day!

I didn't sleep well. It wasn't a real dream, but it was... weird. There were voices rushing past me like the wind, blurry images floating in and out of focus. There were faces I thought I recognized but I couldn't remember their names, places I knew I'd been to before but couldn't place where...

"Ponyboy."

My eyes flew open. Soda was beside the bed, pulling a shirt over his head. "Rise and shine, kiddo, you'll be late."

I groaned, rolling over. "Five minutes."

"No, now." Suddenly he lifted me from the bed and had me slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Ack, Soda! Stop!" He kicked open the door and carried me down the hallway as I pounded half-heartily on his back with my fists. I was too tired to put up a fight.

I heard Darry laughing. "These are the extremes the prince has to go to wake up sleeping beauty?"

"Shut it."

Soda set me on my feet before pushing me into a chair. He pointed to the toast in front of me. "Eat. Get dressed. You've got 15 minutes before I throw your ass out of the house. Give you a head start to school."

I glared at him. "Fine, Darry."

His serious face broke cleanly into a huge smile as he started laughing.

I wasn't all that hungry. I picked at the toast and only ate about half of one slice before I went back into my room to change clothes. My head was still spinning from the dream and I felt a little sick, almost nervous. I hoped seeing Heather would calm me down.

-0-0-0-

But I never did calm down.

Heather wasn't there.

What was going on? Since her first day here she had never missed a day of school. Since we first started tutoring she had always come to my house right after school. What was keeping her away from me?

I couldn't sit still. My fingers would keep tapping or my knee would keep bouncing or I'd be shooting glances at the clock or I'd be flipping mindlessly through my textbooks. I couldn't help it. I couldn't even pay any attention to the lessons. Instead I was coming up with different reasons why she wasn't here. I stayed with the safest: her dad needed her to cook dinner last night, and today she wasn't feeling too hot.

I didn't convince myself. I knew something was really wrong.

I practically ran home. Don't really know why. I mean, all that's at home is more worrying. I was internally kicking myself for being so stupid. Nearly five months of knowing the girl and never once had I thought to get her number. Maybe Darry would drive me to her place when he got back. He knew where she lived...

I threw open the door and chucked my backpack down the hall. I was shaking. I reached into my pocket. I cigarette would calm me down...

Then I remembered Heather took my Kools.

"Dammit!" I shouted, throwing one of the kitchen chairs across the linoleum.

"I don't think Darry'll be too happy to find you're throwing the furniture around."

I turned around to see Two-Bit leaning coolly on the wall beside the front door. I hadn't heard him come in.

But thank God he was here.

I flicked out my lighter. "Gimme a smoke." I said.

"Now hold up, Ponyboy, you haven't had one in--"

"Just give me a goddamn smoke or so help me you will not sit right for a week!"

"Easy, easy!" he reached into his back pocket and threw me a weed. "Here."

I lit it eagerly and breathed in a long, greatly needed drag. I sighed, the smoke curling up around my face, steadying my jumpy nerves. I sunk into one of the still-standing chairs and held my head in my hand.

"Glory, Pony, I ain't never seen you like this." Two-Bit said, picking up the chair I threw and sitting next to me. "What's going on?"

I laughed bitterly, taking another long drag. "I've been asking myself that all day."

Two-Bit waited patiently, something he's hardly ever good at, let alone willing to do.

"She's gone." I muttered, "I don't even know where she was last night, let alone today. She could be sick or hurt or... I don't know. And I hate not knowing. It makes me nervous. I just... I..."

He put a big hand on my shoulder. I hadn't realized I was close to tears. "Calm down, kiddo. I'll bet she's fine."

The cigarette was almost gone. I crushed it in my hand, ignoring the pain. "But you can't tell for sure, can you?"

-0-0-0-

Of course, good ol' Two-Bit can't keep his mouth shut to Darry about anything since the rumble. Darry was all up in my space, scolding me for smoking in the house, for scaring Two-Bit so bad. (admittedly I must have looked a mess, so I didn't mind that one.) He checked my temperature ("You can't be feeling well if you lost your cool like that.") and asked if I had a headache. I lied and said I felt fine, but he didn't believe me for a second and told me to go lay down anyway.

I plopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. I had calmed down a lot, wasn't so jumpy and everything, but that didn't stop the worrying. What if she was really sick? What if her dad beat her too bad? What if... what if...?

After a while I couldn't take just sitting there, so I went down to help with dinner, despite Darry telling me to go back to bed. There wasn't much more to do anyway, so soon we were all sitting at the table eating grilled cheese. We didn't say much. I guess they all knew that talking would end up in what happened this afternoon, and since no one wanted to bring that up again, we were silent.

I still wasn't very hungry, but I ate a little before I escaped to my bedroom to do my math homework. None of it was making sense, and I soon got too angry at it to do anything. I threw it across the room and tossed and turned in bed until eleven.

-0-0-0-

I had a nightmare.

Maybe it was Heather being gone that caused it. Maybe it was having a smoke after so long without one. I don't know. But at any rate, it wasn't just a dream. It was the dream. The one I could never remember. The one that scared me more than anything else.

The reason I'm screaming.

I'm shaking all over, drenched in cold sweat. It makes my skin crawl. My eyes are wide open and I'm crying, but they won't shut so everything is real blurry. I feel like I've got cotton balls shoved in my ears, and there's a faint ringing coming from somewhere, like an alarm.

I see Soda fall out of bed beside me, startled out of sleep. He untangles himself and jumps back on the bed in front of me. His mouth is moving, but I can't hear. I've stopped screaming, but I'm hyperventilating, trying to breathe through lungs collapsed from fear.

The light flicks on as Darry comes in, eyes wild, and races over to us. Soda says something to him, then he is turning me toward him, his huge hands cuppig my face. He's saying something to me, and I think it's 'Ponyboy', but the ringing just gets louder and I can't tell.

Suddenly I freeze up and my stomach clenches. Darry scoops me up and suddenly I'm on the bathroom floor, hurling grilled cheese. When I finally stop I'm gasping, suffocating. The ringing si getting louder and louder until it's everywhere, sharp and blaring. I clap my hands over my ears, squeezing my eyes shut.

"STOP!"

It surprised me that it listened. The only sound is my rapid breathing for a long time. Then, "Ponyboy?"

I look up at Darry. His hair is messed up and he's sweating like crazy. He's got his hands on my shoulders so I don't fall. "Ponyboy, you're okay. It's just a dream."

I breathe in shakily, then fall into him, bawling. He pulls me into a tight hug, rocking me gently and whispering reassurances. After a while I can't cry anymore and I pull away.

"Glory, Pone, you about gave me a heart attack!" Soda exclaims, feeling my forehead.

"What time is it?" I whisper -- it's all I can manage.

"Around four." Darry says. He looks at me. "That was your worst yet."

"I know," I whimper, "I know..."

"Shh..." he tries to calm me, squeezing me gently. Then he asks, a little tentatively, "Did you... remember anything this time?"

I let out a little sob and curl closer to Darry. "It was so dark..."

He picks me up again and we head down the hall. Soda is turning on lights as we go. I'm not sure why, but makes me feel safer. Darry sets me gently on the couch and goes to the kitchen with Soda to get some coffee.

I'm trying to pull myself together. Just a dream, just a dream... I wonder of Heather ever has dreams like this. I really hope not. She's got it bad enough as it is.

Darry and Soda sit on either side of me and flick on the TV. I think we all know none of us are going back to bed after that. I feel really bad about it. They needed their sleep for work. But we just stayed quiet, watching the screen, trying to forget.

But we had only been watching for about half and hour when I heard the doorknob turn. Startled, I whipped my head around and watched the front door bang open and a slim, broken figure stumbled in, breathing hard. Her hair hung in limp strands around her face, wet with blood, and she held her torso with her right arm. A sickly red stain was seeping through her shirt.

I jumped up as my stomach plummeted. "Oh, no. Heather!"