Pony must've thought I wasn't looking, but I saw him take five aspirins. When he told me he'd take some, I didn't think it would be that many. That wasn't good for him, although I had done it before so I could get to sleep. I tried not to become too dependant on them, so I only did that when I really had to go to sleep. Taking them made me real drowsy.
I stayed for dinner, but I didn't actually eat much. The whole rumble thing made me worry pretty bad, considering that someone could get really hurt. Socs didn't always keep up their deals. With my fork I poked around my plate, taking small bites when I could. I was worrying myself sick and weighing down my stomach wasn't going to help much. After it was all done, I did the dishes, despite their (a. k. a Darry's) protests, and fiddled off into my own little world. I hadn't realized how worked up I could actually get until the time actually closed in. I was so caught up that when I was finished the dishes, I dried them and put them away, just to delay saying 'goodbye and good luck' to all of them.
Reminding myself to take deep breaths, I took a step out of the kitchen, spun on my heel and got a glass of chocolate milk, which they seemed to have a never ending abundance of. I sipped it slowly and when that was done, of course I had to wash the glass out! Finally, there was nothing for me to hold anything back, so I walked carefully out and this time kept putting one foot in front of the other. Two-Bit still had to arrive and that was it. With a pang I knew Dally and Johnny weren't coming, but I still half-expected them to walk through the door.
"So… everyone's all ready?" I said, in a voice I hoped sounded straight and carefree. Soda gave me his best grin and I knew it wasn't an answer to my question, but a way to reassure me everything would be fine. Steve gave a 'whoop' at the same time as Soda gave me that smile of his. Darry watched me warily and I had a feeling my reluctance to come out of the kitchen hadn't helped improve anything. My mouth felt dry and I walked over to the couch, plopping myself down a little more forcefully than I had to. I couldn't hear much in the house and it made my heart ache more.
What if something went wrong? What if someone died? Or got arrested? What would happen to them then? Deep breaths, keep yourself in check. With a wave of complete helplessness, I stood up and walked toward the front door, being careful to not look like I was in a huge hurry.
"I'm gonna head over to the hospital." Darry frowned at me, but nodded.
"Be careful."
"I will." I said this precautious, not trying to show that I was still afraid of the fact that those Socs could still jump me. They hadn't made a move yet, but I hadn't been walking by myself a lot lately, so they hadn't had a chance. The front door slammed behind me, followed by some creaky steps down the stairs, and then mostly silence as I hit the sidewalk. Heading towards the hospital, I wish I had someone with me there, just to make me feel slightly more at ease. I had to walk by the lot to get to the hospital and when I did, there were a bunch of greasers around.
"Hey!" One of them called and I stopped obediently.
"Are the Curtis gang coming?"
"Yeah!" I said, loudly enough that they could hear. They turned away, although some of them kept their eyes on me, and I walked away as quickly as I could. I didn't want to be anywhere near the rumble when it started. Thinking of how it looked, I could only shudder and keep walking along. It was silent, with only the slightest of breezes blowing gently against the leaves, creating a quiet rustling, and rolling paper and other light things along the road.
Blowing the hair out of my eyes, I arrived at the hospital, quite awhile later, and stepped up to the hospital doors. The whole while here I had jumped at any sudden unexpected sound and was happy to report nothing had attacked me in any shape or form.
The hospital was real quiet when I walked in, since it was later at night. I knew visiting hours were over, but I hoped they would let me in anyway. To my surprise, and relief, I saw the same doctor that let us see Johnny last time in the hallway and managed to catch up to him before he went any further.
"Doctor, is it okay if I stay with Johnny tonight, it must get really lonely in the hospital here." The doctor didn't speak for a moment and there was an in-explainable sadness in his eyes. I remembered seeing that same look in Ponyboy's eyes, when the doctor told us about Johnny. It was as if they knew the outcome, but couldn't conceal the truth from everyone. It made my mind go numb and blank for a moment.
"Go ahead, you can stay as long as you like. Tell the nurse I said you could go in."
"Thank you." I breathed and turned around. Before I did though, I saw him look away with a pitied expression on his face. I felt my whole body fill with dread, Johnny really was dying. The doctor knew, he wasn't hiding his emotion very well. When I walked into the room, the nurse tried to shoo me out, but I told her what the doctor had said. She pursed her lips and briskly walked out, probably to go find that doctor. Johnny had his eyes closed, but I knew he was breathing, I could see his chest gently rise and fall. I took a seat beside him and gulped.
"Johnny?" I spoke quietly and his eyes opened slowly, turning to look at me.
"Camille?"
"Yeah, how are you doing?" I mentally kicked myself. What kind of a question was that to ask someone who was dying in the hospital. I just hoped he still had time to talk to everyone before it happened.
"Fine, how's everyone?"
"Well, they're all at the rumble tonight. They all seemed pretty excited about it. I'm pretty sure those Soc's are gonna be the losers tonight." That brought a smile onto his face and he looked up at the ceiling. There was some silence and in that time I fiddled with my hands.
"Johnny… Was it worth it? To go into that church and save those kids, I mean." I said. It was a question that had been bothering me for awhile and I didn't want to ask Ponyboy, not yet. He felt guilty that Johnny was the one who had been hurt, I knew he did.
"Yes. It was." He spoke softly and his eyes matched his voice, "I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't, I would've regretted it more than I did now."
"You regret it?"
"Yeah, this isn't how I want to die. Sixteen years isn't enough." I could see his eyes glaze over. Greasers don't cry. That's what Pony had told me. Were there exceptions? Johnny was dieing, I knew he was. I didn't want to believe it, he didn't deserve to die. What had he ever done? It was self-defence when he stabbed that Soc.
"At least…" I trailed off, what could I say? My own eyes filled with tears and I choked back a sob, no way was I going to cry in front of Johnny. Who would most likely die here tonight, maybe tomorrow. He wouldn't live to see his seventeenth birthday, that I was sure of. "You knew the gang." I finished my sentence softly, unsure what way he would take it.
"There's a lot I can be happy that happened…" Johnny took a deep breath, "but there's so much more that could've happened." There was more silence, something I had become rather used to by now. There were small time amounts when time seemed to stop and all noise ceased. It was in those moments I knew that there was still massive space between us, that we weren't the best of friends we could've been. "You'll get to experience all that." I felt completely and utterly guilty now. I would, I knew it and he knew it.
"I'm sorry." I said, looking away.
"It's not… your fault." he struggled for a moment and I reflexively started to get up to move closer, but settled back in once I saw he was okay. Maybe, if I hadn't been so apprehensive about knowing so many people before and being so introverted, I might have been able to prevent this from happening.
"Is there anything I can do?" I asked, taking deep breaths to make sure I stayed calm. He shook his head subtly and I relaxed into my chair, forcing my muscles to relax. My presence in this room made it seem more stuffy and tense that it had been earlier. Did he even want me here? My eyes closed of their own accord and images flashed in my head.
The day my dad left and I saw what I knew him to be for the last time.
The day Amber gave me her best glare, for doing nothing except trying to hide her from the painful truth.
The day my own father told me he had killed my mother.
The day that same father of mine held a gun to my forehead.
Ponyboy rubbing his thumb over my bruises, the most care I had ever seen shining in his eyes.
And then Johnny, lying in the hospital bed, hurt and pain clearly evident in his eyes.
My own flashed open and I sighed loudly, so much that it made me jump at how much it echoed through the room. Johnny was staring at the ceiling. This wasn't how I wanted it to turn out.
"Do you need anything?" I heard myself asking, although I can't remember saying it.
"No." Johnny said, strong and straight spoken. I collapsed into myself and rubbed my temples. Was he mad at me? "I want you to tell Dally somethin'."
"What?" I whispered, my tone telling him to go on.
"Tell him I'm sorry I couldn't be tough like him. That I'm sorry I couldn't just tell my dad to leave me alone, that I let him treat me like that." Johnny took a deep breath and this time I saw a tear roll down his cheek. "Tell Dally that he has to always fight to live. Tell him that I don't want him to die if I do. I don't know if he'll be torn about my death or not, but tell him anyway. Tell him to enjoy the small things. Tell him that I'm sorry I couldn't be more tough like him. Tell him, I'm not sure I'll be able to."
"No, no." I said firmly, but my voice shook on a slight waver. "You'll be able to tell him yourself. You will." Even as I said it, I knew I was lying.
"You know it as much as I do that I won't be able to."
"Johnny…" I started, but he shook his head to silence me.
"Don't try to comfort me like that. I've had time to think about it, and although I do regret having to die like this, I'm still glad I saved those kids. " I saw another few tears slide down his cheeks. It was almost enough to make me want to run, but I put each hand on the others upper arm and squeezed to keep myself in check. "I don't want to die with any regrets."
"You won't die." I said, my teeth clenching in denial. "You're strong." He didn't say anything, but I hoped he believed me. I thought he was amazingly strong. Through this whole ordeal, he hadn't freaked out or gone berserk or felt sorry for only himself. He didn't stay selfish and he didn't whine and complain. He spoke what he felt and honesty was all I wanted from him right now.
"You really are, Johnny. Please believe me." I said, begging him to understand where I was coming from.
"I don't think of myself as strong." It was mostly him talking to himself I think.
"You should." I spoke. "I'm not talking about physical strong, I'm talking about mentally strong. Not cold and tough like Dallas strong. No, it's your own strong." In a way, I doubt it helped him too terribly much, but to me it meant the world to get that out.
"You're stronger than I am." I looked up and stared at him, frozen with shock.
"No, that you're wrong on." I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah, you are." I felt my frustration bubble. He wasn't listening.
"I cry too much to be strong." Johnny gave me a strange look out of the corner out of his eye. As if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"That doesn't mean you're not strong." Johnny spoke confidently.
"Explain to me." I said, my voice small. There was silence and I felt a bitter grin come onto my face. "See? You can't." There was more silence.
"Ponyboy cares for you a lot." said Johnny, not looking at me. "He couldn't stop talking about you when we were in that church." It made my heart swell, but at the same time it hit a certain pang. In a way, I felt that Ponyboy should be telling me this, but if Johnny wanted to, I wouldn't stop him. I wanted to hear it and if he wanted to tell me, so close to his death, I couldn't refuse him. "He kept talking about how sorry he was about that fight you'd had and how he wanted to say sorry. It hit too close to home for him, the thing with his parents."
"I know." I said, looking down at my hands resting in my lap, "I was out of line."
"No, you just wanted to help." I could hear Johnny, but I didn't want to look at him.
"Yeah. I did."
"Past tense?" There was something in Johnny's voice that made me look up, something smug.
"You're awful talkative for someone who's suppose to be quiet." I said, my own smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Johnny smiled, looking kinda happy since I came in, and continued to speak.
"So it is past tense." He said it with finality, I had completely forgotten about the question.
"No! I don't know if he wants me to help though." I was confiding everything in Johnny, because I knew my secrets would die with him. He didn't have a lot of time to tell anybody anything about what we were talking about. I felt wrong in telling him all this, but at the same time relieved.
"Ask him." I jumped at the thought, it was too simple an answer.
"That's a bit… forward." I spoke with another slight waver, hopefully undetectable. He laughed and then stopped, suddenly pained. I didn't jump this time, but watched him with pitying eyes. A nurse came in to check up on him and as she did so, I felt my eyes droop. Despite the uncomfortable position I was in for sleeping, my eyelids fell and I drifted off.
When I woke up, I didn't expect to find the nurse writing something that Johnny was saying. A letter, to who? I didn't know, but I had a vague idea.
