Darry set his fork and knife down with a sigh. "We need to talk."

It was Saturday evening, and we were trying to eat dinner. Most of us just pushed our food around the plate. No one was hungry anymore; the food tasted ashen.

Heather still hadn't woken up. Every day her burns seemed darker, her breath shallower, her heartbeat slower. I watched her slowly die, and no matter how much I wanted to, couldn't turn away. The exact opposite of my dream…

I pulled myself out of my thoughts to look at Darry. His eyes were cloudy, his face a stone mask, but I'd known it would be bad news before he'd said anything. I told myself never to get my hopes up, because then they're harder to bring down.

"We all know Heather's not doing well." he said. The boys stared at their plates somberly. "I talked to the doctor the other day… he said he had expected her to wake up long before now. He's afraid… maybe we were too late. You know, to save her."

I clenched my fists, willing myself to keep the tears back. You knew this was coming, I told myself, but it didn't help any.

"I got the bill." he threw it like it was poison onto the center of the table, face up so we all could see.

I wished I could think like doctors. How else would I see how poor bums like us could possibly pay that kind of money?

I wasn't the only one stunned. Steve sighed angrily, Two-Bit's eyes popped out of his head, and Soda actually flinched.

"I know this isn't what any of you want to hear," Darry continued solemnly, "But… well, you all know what kind of state we're in already. We're making just enough to make ends meet. But this… this is way too much."

I felt my stomach plummet through the floor, like I'd gone through a loop in some sick coaster ride that never ended.

I glanced at Soda. His face was white. "You mean…"

"I'm sorry. But we can't afford it. We have to take her off the machines."

I was too stunned to feel my own reaction yet, but I knew it was coming soon. So I numbly watched the other's reactions.

Soda inhaled sharply, his once bright, dancing eyes were now completely flat, devoid of any life. Steve slammed his fists into the table, jaw taught. Two-Bit's eyes closed slowly and his face fell into his hands. Darry looked like he was made of stone.

Tiny cold pricks swept down my arms and legs, like they'd somehow fallen asleep and now the blood came rushing back through them. I stood up suddenly, the clatter of my chair painfully loud in the stunned silence.

"What?!" I managed to say.

"I know it's hard, Pony, but there's no way--"

"I'll work." My eyes searched their faces wildly, but saw the same look hopeless on each of them. "I'll get a job at the DX until she wakes up. We can make it work, we can --"

"Pony," It was Soda who stopped me this time, looking grave. "It's over."

I was shaking. My lips trembled and my heart thudded nervously in my chest. "No!" I said, "No, there has to be a way. We can't give up!"

"I'm sorry." Darry, again. "I've thought of as many options as I could and nothing's going to work."

"Then think harder!" I was pacing now, everything inside me boiling. I was gonna blow. "There's gotta be something--"

"Look, kid, don't you get it?" Steve was on his feet now, glaring at me with those dark eyes, eyes filled with hate and rage and sadness. "She's gone. She's gone and there's nothing we can do about it now. Stop wasting your breath."

I wheeled on him, every cell in my body trembling with fury. "She's not gone. She's still breathing, still thinking. You expect me to stand back and let you kill her?"

"You don't have a choice." he hissed. "We don't have a choice."

"NO!" I couldn't take much more of this. "There's gotta be some other way!"

"There's nothing we can do, Pony, so just forget it." Steve started to sit back down. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not." I breathed, but I'm not sure if he heard me.

"Please calm down, Pone. You know you're not the only one who cared about her." Darry said softly, "Besides, I think we all know she wouldn't want us to use all our money on her. She'd want us to use it for other things, things like getting you through school and finding a good job or a better house or--"

I threw my fists into the wall. "Dammit, Darry!" I suddenly reminded myself of Dally, just after Johnny died. I turned on him, unable to keep my voice from breaking. "She was everything to me."

The whole table stared at me, trying to control myself. My body shook and my breath was shaky. I was gonna bawl. "You don't understand. You'll never understand."

I turned and ran down the hall, unable to stand there anymore. I threw myself onto the bed and laid there for what seemed like forever, biting back the tears.

-0-0-0-

I woke up the next morning from a fitful sleep. I rolled off the bed, noting Soda's absence with slight confusion, and made my way down the hall.

No one was here. I thought it was a little too quiet. Today was Sunday, right? Everyone should be here…

I shuffled into the kitchen for some chocolate milk. Boy, I was thirsty. I noticed a note on the refrigerator door: Went to church. Be back around noon. Love you, Soda.

Went to church?! Since when does the whole gang go to church? And without me? Then I realized they probably wanted to pray for Heather. Ask for a safe trip to heaven or something. And they probably didn't want to wake me up because they'd assumed (correctly) I'd want some time to myself.

I sighed. What was I going to do? I'd practically gone nuts the two days I didn't know where she was. I'd really lose it, knowing she was… dead. Golly, just thinking about it made me go cold.

I set my now-empty glass on the counter. There had to be anther way. There had to. But… what could I do? Darry -- no, the whole gang -- had already decided she was gone. I'd never find a way to save her and convince them of it before they pulled the plug.

It's hopeless.

I could feel myself starting to shake. I hurried into the bathroom and splashed some water on my face, trying to calm myself down. It didn't work well.

When I shut off the water and looked up, I paused. I hadn't really gotten a good look at myself for a long time. And now, the boy staring back at me was a stranger. His skin was etched with scars and burn marks glistening beneath the water dripping off his face. His hair was plastered to his forehead in semi-greasy curls. But it was his eyes that were the most unfamiliar. His eyes were a sort of jade-gray color, looking sad and scared and angry all at the same time.

He couldn't me be, I thought. He couldn't be. The last time I'd looked in a mirror, really looked, I saw someone who was strong and brave without being hard. Someone who's eyes had seen a lot of things, both good and bad. I knew that boy could've made it through all of this. He would have found a way to save Heather.

This boy wasn't any of those things. This boy had been beaten down by the world, had everything good taken away until he was just a shell. A scared, broken shell of who he used to be. This was the boy who'd let Heather get hurt in the first place.

And I hated him for it.

I pulled my fist back and slammed it into the glass. It cracked, distorting the boy's image. "Why couldn't you save her?!" I screamed at him, throwing another punch. The glass buckled and fell from the wall, like a deadly rain that bloodied my hands. The pain was sharp, intense, but I ignored it. I couldn't bare to look at him anymore. Again and again I punched the mirror until there was a giant hole in the center.

Breathing hard, I looked around. Bloody glass littered the floor. I gritted my teeth against the searing pain in my knuckles.

I stumbled back and leaned against the wall. Tears I hadn't noticed before streamed down my face. I let them fall. I didn't care. I didn't care about anything anymore.

I'd lost my parents long before they were meant to go. I'd lost Dally, a friend who risked everything just to keep me and Johnny safe. I'd lost Johnny, too -- my best friend, the one person I could tell anything to, who understood my clouds and sunsets. And now I was losing Heather, the only girl I ever loved, the girl who stuck with me through the bad times.

I realized then why that dream scared me so much. It was because it was really happening, and even in reality, there wasn't anything I could do to save them.

I fell to my knees, sobs racking through my whole body. The shards of glass reflected a thousand miserable, bloodshot eyes.

-0-0-0-

"Ponyboy?"

I turned my head slowly, looking up at Two-Bit. He stood still, but his muscles were tense and his eyes darted from my face to my hands to the glass on the floor. "Pony?"

Oh. He wanted me to say something. "Hi." my voice was thick with tears.

He knelt down next to me and gently brushed the damp hair from my face. "You wanna talk about it?"

I sighed.

He waited for me while I gathered my thoughts. I was so sad and confused it was hard to actually think. "I can't…" I sighed again, pressing the heel of my hand into my forehead, "I can't do this again. After Johnny… I just can't." I gulped and forced the tears back. I didn't want to cry anymore.

Two-Bit sighed, carefully fingering one of the larger shards. "It'll be hard, I know. For all of us, but you especially. She was… special."

"Yeah." I stared at the blood slowly dripping off my hands.

"She was talking to me once, while you were at school. Said she'd never met anyone like you. Said she'd never felt so loved, never loved anyone so much. And I know she meant it."

I kept staring.

"Pony, she loves you more than anything. She doesn't blame you for what happened, she never could. So don't you blame yourself."

I bit my lip. Don't cry. "How'd you know?"

The glass glinted red when he turned it over again. "I did the same thing the night of the rumble."

I looked up at him then. He looked… washed out. Like he'd cried away the color in his face. "What do you mean?"

He sighed again. "When I went home that night, I started thinking. I figured I could have stopped that whole mess if I hadn't been so careless. If I'd told Darry you was sick, maybe you wouldn't have gone to the hospital. If I didn't give Dally my blade, maybe he would've stayed out of that fight. If I hadn't left you and Johnny all by yourself that night and gone to get drunk, maybe you wouldn't have run away in the first place. I couldn't look in the mirror without getting mad at myself… so I broke it.

"But I see now there's nothing I could've done. How would I have known what all could happen, anyway? And it doesn't help to think about it. You shouldn't, either. It's done now. Move on."

I'd never had a serious conversation with Two-Bit before. It was weird. But at the same time, I felt like I really needed it. "Thanks." I muttered.

He nodded.

"D'you think…?"

"She might wake up. I always thought she would. But you guys really can't afford to keep her on those machines much longer, and if she doesn't wake up soon…"

"Yeah." I sniffed.

"C'mon." he stood up, "Let's get this mess cleaned up before the boys come home."

"I thought you went with them?"

"Nah. They're still in the service. I never was one for church. No action. I don't even understand half of what that old guy's saying."

I smiled. Same old Two-Bit.

Sorry about the long wait, but I gave you a long chapter, so I hope that makes up for it. Oh, and to avoid some confusion, I had Heather go to the hospital twice because I thought it'd be very traumatic for Pony and the boys if she got hurt really bad just as she started to get better from the first accident. (yes, I'm very cruel that way.)

I'll try to update again soon… don't know how soon though… :(