Soda POV- My Choice
Songs for this chapter: Hear Me Now by Framing Hanley, and (my favorite song EVER) Ugly- the Exies
We are dirt, we are alone
You know we're far from sober!
We are fake, we are afraid
You know it's far from over
We are dirt we are alone
You know we're far from sober!
Look closer, are you like me?
Are you ugly?
I don't care, you don't care
I'm bitter, you're angry.
You don't care, I don't care
You love you, just like me
I blame you, you blame me
I'm bitter, you're angry.
You don't care, I don't care
I don't own any of S.E Hinton's fantabulous characters, or the book….*pouts*
(AN: This is it, guys! *hops up and down in excitement* Drum roll, please!)
I walked down the street, my boys flanking me. As the wind blew in my hair, shoving it back with invisible fingers from my bare forehead, I reveled in the feeling of being in control of my own destiny once more, steering my life back on the course I wanted, not controlled by hospital visits or Socs or nuthin' but me and my gang. I almost smiled as I thought of the horrid past few weeks finally being over, my life slowly picking itself up from the terrible things that had happened. I would cry with happiness if my life would just go back to normal, with the occasional rumble, but besides that, nothing special.
I had enough crazy now to last me a lifetime.
We kept walking, not really talking as we silently made our way down the rapidly darkening streets, turning down blocks, the golden light from the streetlights bouncing off the pavement, giving the world an otherworldly glow, almost. The streets were rapidly emptying of cars and people as the sun slipped behind the gathering thunderheads that signaled for a storm. The air was thickening, an almost tangible excitement and electricity filling the air, the thrill of the unknown. I didn't know how anything was going to turn out tonight, save for the fact it was going to rain buckets.
Good,I thought detachedly. The rain will wash away the blood. I shuddered at how cold-blooded that thought had been, shrugging off the chills that were running down my back.
I had become a different person in the last few weeks. I had been through more heartbreak and pure, undiluted hatred than any person should have to take on. I had to plunge into it headfirst. Sandy was gone, Dally was gone, and so was Johnny. I was a colder person because of it.
I knew that.
With a pang, I realized that Dally and Johnny had been dead almost a whole week. I would never see Johnny's shy smile again, come and go like a rainbow. I wouldn't see Dally smile when he thought we weren't looking.
I thought back to the happy days, when the gang was still young and carefree, unburdened with the troubles of a decaying world.
It was a bright summer's day, and the gang was hanging out at the DX, waiting for me an' Steve's shift to end so we could get the hell out of there to go pick up our girls and take them to a movie.
Johnny was there, along with Ponyboy, both standing slightly off to the side, talking quietly while keeping an eye on us, making sure they wouldn't be hit by any wayward punches or flailing limbs. Sometimes, even though all the guys were older, I think that Pony and Johnny knew much more about the world than we did then and probably ever would. I guess I'll never know, not now.
Two-Bit was just finishing up a story about what had gone down between him and some unlucky blonde the night before.
"And-," he hooted, nearly crying with laughter, "-And-and then, she tried to stick her finger in my-"
"Two-Bit!" I snapped, cutting him off with a look as I jerked my head at Pony. Pony looked up, then down again, the tips of his ears turning red as he went back to his book. I could tell he had been getting more and more uncomfortable as Two-Bit's stories continued, but I hadn't intervened until now and he had been too embarrassed to say anything.
"Soda, I can stand up for myself, thanks," he told me coolly, cocking his eyebrow in Two-Bit's move. I folded my arms, and stared back evenly. Steve slung his arm around my shoulder, and looked at Pony, studying him for a moment.
"Ponyboy, I don't think you need to hear about how much Two-Bit did or didn't get last night," Steve said, his eyes spitting sparks as he thought he stood up for me. I turned away, shrugging his hand off my shoulder under the cover of turning to fill up a Corvair that had just pulled up.
Pony had been getting older. It had seemed, since mom and dad- since it had happened, he had aged double, acting twenty-eight instead of his new age of 14. I needed to treat him like the young man he was slowly becoming, the teenager he was now.
Get a grip, Soda. I told myself fiercely as I looked at my baby brother. His red-brown hair was combed back with care, a lock curling on his forehead. He kept brushing it away absentmindedly, his bright green eyes scanning the pages of the tattered book he held in his hands, his chapped lips pursed in concentration and his nose, dotted with freckles from the relentless summer sun, wrinkled. Johnny was peeking over his shoulder, a weed dangling from his lips as he picked out words carefully from the yellowed pages.
I groaned teasingly as I realized what book he was holding. It was called Dead Cert, and was a murder mystery I had seen Pony read at least one-hundred times.
"Really, Pony? That ol' manuscript again? Haven't you memorized that by now?" I poked at him laughingly as I snagged it from his protesting hands and tossed it to Two-Bit, who disinterestedly tossed it into the street, more occupied with the pretty girls coming and going than anything else.
"Hey!" Pony yelped, scrambling to reach his book before it got run over. Picking it up with care, he dusted it off and tucked in under his arm, turning away slightly from me to shield the book from harm's way. Johnny snickered behind his hand but besides that remained quiet, watching us all with dark, clear eyes as he took in the scene.
"Where's the party at?" Dallas drawled; sidling up from around the building. I jumped slightly, sloshing car fluid all over my good jeans. Aw, great. I angrily thrust the jug at Steve, and then furiously tried to scrub out the slick black oil that was staining the dark denim.
Two-Bit just grinned, lighting up as he eyes a curvy blonde that had just walked out of the DX. Abandoning us to talk to her, he slicked his hair back and popped the collar on his leather jacket, never mind the fact it was almost eighty degrees out.
"Watch and learn, boys," He muttered under his breath, sliding a smooth glance and a wink at us before going to try to pick up the broad.
"A little early to be fishing for girls, ain't it?" Dally murmured, but didn't disturb Two-Bit. Good idea, I thought. Two-Bit could get a bit territorial when it came to him and his blonde Barbie dolls.
Walking over to Pony and Johnny, he stole Pony's cigarette and coolly puffed on it, ruffling Johnny's hair in hello. Pony let out a mewl in protest, and tried to steal his weed back but Dal calmly sidestepped him and looked at him, puffing away like a freight train or somethin'.
"Why the hell you sitting around here, when you could be robbin' a bank or something worthwhile?" Dally asked, one side of his mouth turning up at the thought of causing general mayhem and chaos.
"Because," Steve said crankily, popping up from behind the hood of a car, his hair sticking to his head and a smudge of grease streaking his cheek as he tinkered on an unruly engine. "Dal, some of us actually earn our money, not take it by pure brute force," Steve snipped, ducking back under the hood again, a string of foul language issuing up as one part of the engine started giving him trouble. I hid my smile behind a window as I watched for Dally's reaction.
Dal merely shrugged, tossing away the butt of his smoke and grinding it under his heel. He slid on his shades, and smiled, hooking his arm around Pony's neck. He looked like Dallas Winston. He was untouchable, the epitome of cool. I saw a few girls give Dally once-overs as they stepped into the DX, but he didn't see. Girl's didn't pick Dallas, Dallas picked the girls. And they came, and he used them, then dumped them without a second thought. He was a true greaser. Dal was also a bit strange sometimes. Almost anything could get him frosted, from kids to adults. It was a miracle he put up with Ponyboy, seeing as he was just a kid himself.
"You do it your way, I'll do it mine," He said, rubbing Pony's head with his knuckles. Pony squirmed out form his grasping hand and scampered over to stand by Johnny, rubbing his head tenderly.
"Ouch," Pony complained, looking at Dally with rueful eyes.
"Jesus, Pony," Dallas said, eyeing the book that was sliding from Pony's grasp and snatching it up, "You're reading AGAIN?" He said curiously, looking over the faded yellow cover. "Christ, I thought that was just a phase, but no, you're one of a kind…" He finished, shaking his head in awe. Then he scanned the back of the book, his smile turning into a look of thought.
"A murder mystery? Why, I do believe our little Cowboy is growing up!" Dal said sarcastically, tossing the book back to Pony. Cowboy was something he had taken to calling Ponyboy as of late, just to rattle his cage. He knew Pony hated pretty much anything to do with horses. How ironic it was that his name practially was a horse on its own.
Pony and Johnny looked at each other, and burst out laughing. Johnny held out his hand and Pony slid five dollars into it, still giggling. Dally looked as confused as I and Steve did. Dal wedged himself between Pony and Johnny, looking at them.
"There's a bet going' on and you didn't cut me a share?" Dally pretended to be wounded. He placed a hand over his heart and looked at them fake-sadly. "Jesus, and I thought you guys were my buddies…"
Johnny pretended to be offended. "Are you calling us Socs? Put 'em up!" He pretended to duke Dal in the chin. Dal just laughed, batting Johnny's hand away.
Pony laughed too, joining in on the fake fight. I watched them for a moment, chuckling to myself. Two-Bit looked over in spite of the hot blonde and had to laugh, too. Steve only watched them, his eyes showing nothing. I wish he would lighten up to Pony, I thought wistfully.
"Dal! I'll tell you! Lemme go!" Pony shouted, his face flushed, his eyes twinkling as Dally pinned him while Johnny tickled him mercilessly.
"Not until you tell me…" Dally threatened, dangling Pony's book over the icebox.
"Fine! We were betting on whether or not you were literate….whether or not you could read!" Pony gasped out, his lack of proper air making his words slur slightly. I motioned with my head for Dal to let him up and he did, looking wounded, for real. Pony's book fell unnoticed by any but me, to the floor.
"You guys honestly thought I was dumb, eh? Jesus, I ain't stupid!" Dal commented, glowering at Pony and Johnny as he straightened up, all pretenses of playing gone. Johnny shrank back but Pony stood firm, looking Dallas in the eye. My jaw dropped. Nobody, no mortal person ever looked a mad Dallas Winston in the eye and lived. Pony seemed to be faring quite well for a soon-to be corpse.
"Dal, it wasn't that, it's just…we know nothing about your past. It was an honest question, swear! Neither of us meant nuthin' by it, I promise!" Pony said, panicking slightly. Dally relented a little, looking Pony square in the eyes. Steve's jaw tightened, but he made no move to interfere. I was a tense as a live wire, waiting for Dally to start swinging on my baby brother.
"Next time you have a question about me, you come to me, you hear? None of this dumbass bettin' stuff. It's stupid." Dally didn't sound mad, just…tired. As if he'd seen too much, and didn't want to think about the past no more. He rubbed a palm over his face, pushing back his dark mop of hair.
Johnny stepped forward tensely, a question in his eyes. I sprung to attention once more, afraid Johnny would trip a nerve in Dal, and then it would all be lost.
"Dal, how d'you want to die?" Johnny asked almost casually, as if he was asking what Dallas had for dinner. Dal looked at Johnny for a moment, as if he was really seeing him for the first time. He rubbed another weary hand over his eyes, and then began speaking. I even stopped working to listen, leaning against a car frame.
"Johnny, you have to understand…Damn, I ain't good at this," Dallas sighed, looking first at Pony, then Johnny, then finally me.
'I grew up in New York. Those were bad times, real bad times. My mom died when I was seven, and dad started drinking and hitting me. I realized he didn't give a hang about his life, or mine. So I left, and joined my first gang, the Hell Burners. They taught me what was true in life: trust no one. We were just a bunch of kids, trying to survive, trusting nobody. We weren't a family. We were a cult of young boys living on the streets.
The first time I got in major trouble was when I was ten. Actually, it happened on my birthday. Ironic, isn't it? Double digits lands me in a police station. I had gone in to steal some smokes for my best friend and I. His name was Johnny, like you, Johnnycake." Here he paused from his intent story and gave a faint smile to Johnny. Johnny, eyes wide, merely nodded in response, urging him silently to continue. So Dally kept talking.
"The clerk caught me on my way out, and Johnny ran. We were buddies, yeah, but on the streets you always, always put yourself first, even before family. The fuzz dragged me in, and when I refused to talk, they gave me over to a boy's home, out in rural New York. I stayed there for two months, until they gave me back to my ol' man. Two days later I ran away, back to the gang. They welcomed me with open arms. Nobody noticed little kids back in those days. We were just pieces of furniture, wallflowers.
So I was the thief, the kid pickpocket. I did the dirty work for the guys higher up the food chain, took the beating when the shit hit the fan, that kind of stuff. I was in and out of detention centers almost monthly.
My life changed when I met Rocket. That wasn't his real name, but that's what all the younger kids called him, 'because he could run like the fuzz were lighting rockets on his heels. He dug us, watched out for the little kids. He was one of us, although he was sixteen. No matter how tough he was with the older guys, he was cool with us. I think his real name was Seth. I didn't know that until he died, when the Police pulled out his wallet, when i went back to the park to find him lying there, long gone cold as he lay in a pool of his own blood. I think i truly became a greaser that day.
It happened after I was about twelve, and had known him about a year. We were jacking off in the park, being kids, something we didn't get to do much of. It was just me an' him, something that didn't happen much either. There was always one or two young 'uns hanging around Rocket, as if hoping to soak in some of his cool, collected façade. The park was quiet, and dark. The trees rustled and swayed, the shapes crawling across the blacktop as the single overhead light from above beamed down, flickering once a minute or so.
I think we were playing basketball, goofing around. I hadn't felt so happy in a long time, since before my mom died…" Here Dally broke off, staring into the distance as a muscle in his jaw jumped. He shifted, jamming one hand into his pocket. I picked up the oil can and stared intently into the car, concentrating on pouring the exact amount of needed oil into the engine. The glug-glug-glug of the flowing oil was the only thing that broke the silence, but I kept staring into the complicated machinery. Steve would be all over me like peanut butter on bread if I messed up something this easy.
"Go on..." Johnny murmured, his eyes wide, like a startled colt's. Dal shot him a quick smile before patting down his pockets, in search of a light. His had just gone out and he tossed it away disinterestedly, in need of another.
"Hey, Pone," He called to my brother, who was standing there as if he was in a trance. The sound of his name seemed to snap him out of it.
"Yeah, Dallas?" He said, blinking. Dal smiled briefly, and then nodded at the box of weed sticking out of Ponyboy's pocket.
"Mind if I snatch a cancer stick, Kiddo?" Dally said jokingly, holding his hand out. It was a rhetorical question. No one said no to Dal, about anything. Pony nodded an affirmative, and tossed the box to Dallas. Dal caught it one-handed and pulled out a slim white tube in the same moment. Holding it gingerly between his teeth, he dug a light out of his pocket and lit up, breathing in deeply as he threw the cigarettes back to Pony. I could see his shoulders relax as the nicotine hit his bloodstream. He tugged the cigarette from his lips and started speaking again, breathing out a stream of smoke.
"We were in the park, about to head back to the abandoned church we slept in. As I turned halfway to pass him the dying basketball we brought with us, I caught a shape out of the corner of my eye. I whirled around as my hand grabbed his arm, tugging sharply. His head snapped up, his eyes scanning the surrounding area. If you weren't able to fight in zero to sixty out here, you stood no chance of survival. You'd be killed before you could think. It was purely instinct when you were on the streets.
'Rocket, there's someone else here,' I said in an undertone as my body tensed to run. Fight or Flight. That was all I had known in my days in the gang. You run to survive; you fight if you have no other option. The figure shifted, my eyes followed. I recognized the boy as soon as my eyes touched on the red fray of hair that crowned his head, the freckled cheeks, and the jade-green eyes that poked out from his translucent face. Thomas Mulligan, a hot headed Irish immigrant boy from another gang who had it in for Rocket, for some unknown reason.
"Rocket! Run!" I cried, throwing the basketball down as the figure lunged, hitting Rocket head-on. Rocket went down hard, falling like a stone, a surprised look on his face. The teenager began punching Rocket everywhere he could, showing no mercy. Rocket took no time to recover before he began bucking and fighting like a wildcat, trying to get up to fight.
"NO!" I felt myself cry as I threw myself into the two-man rumble. I couldn't lose Rocket. He was all I cared about out here. He was my air on a dead planet. A hand pushed me away and I bit hard, feeling blood coat my teeth as I shook my head viciously, ripping skin from sinew. A strangled cry split the air as Thomas tore his hand away, slapping me so hard I saw stars. I staggered back, my head reeling.
"Ouch," I heard myself whimper as my hand rose to the heated, agitated flesh. Shaking my head twice to get rid of the buzzing I ran at Thomas as fast as I could, pounding my fists into the softer, more vulnerable flesh of his stomach. He bent double, groaning as he momentarily stopped punching Rocket. Rocket sprang up, a dark cut slowly winding down his tanned cheek. He touched it slowly, wincing as his hand came away bloodied.
"Why you little…"Rocket growled, murder in his dark eyes for the boy who had spilled his blood. Thomas tensed but didn't move, his glassy eyes flickering between me an' Rocket. His chest rose and fell rapidly, along with his pulse that jumped on his neck. He scanned over me, then Rocket as they slowly circled each other. I stood tensely to the side, my fingernails biting into my palms. Surveying the scene, I looked for something, anything I could pick up to hit Thomas with.
That was when a pair of contracting hands closed around my neck. Thomas had obviously picked me as the weaker target, I thought furiously, struggling madly as I lashed out backwards with my feet, yelling and writhing.
"Let…go!" I managed to choke out, my hands flying to the much stronger pair wrapped around my vocal chords. Rocket stopped, his eyes wide. Panic infused his voice as he threw his hands out pleadingly.
"Please, Thomas…don't hurt Dallas. He's just a kid. Leave him alone. Beat me up, but let him run." He said quickly, his words running together in an emotion-filled jumble. I stopped struggling for a moment, hanging there like a ragdoll between Thomas's huge hands.
"No…" I choked out, but fell silent when the hands tightened. Rocket took an uneasy step forward, skirting away like a deer in the headlights.
"Go…" I managed to whisper with my rapidly depleting air source. Rocket's eyes were frightened saucers, the brown depths simmering with deep hatred.
"No." He said stubbornly, stalking around Thomas like a hunting dog, looking for an opening to reach in and grab me, I suppose.
I reached back, elbowing Thomas in the gut with all the force I could muster. Even at age twelve, I wasn't too little. I could take down almost anybody that got in my way, except Rocket. He could flip me off of him in about six seconds on a bad day. All the other times, I was toast.
Thomas released his breath in a gushing whoosh, but tightened his grip stubbornly. I retched in pain but feebly fought back. The panic flooded Rocket's eyes as he realized I couldn't win and he was helpless.
"Thomas…let him go. I'll fight you; just…he's only a kid."
Was Rocket pleading? I shook my head in adamant refusal. Rocket was strong, confident, and cool. No, Rocket couldn't be pleading. Could he?
I could hear Thomas's panicked breathing ease as he thought about this. His grip loosened slightly, but just enough that I could siphon air to my burning lungs.
"Rocket…go." I croaked once more hopelessly. WHAM! Thomas's hand tightened once more as he whirled and slammed me into the blacktop. I heard a sickening crack as my head hit the ground, but no pain.
The pain didn't come until later.
Rasping, I wriggled and kicked, watching Rocket with eyes that swam with black spots. He walked closer, his hands up, like a criminal showing the fuzz he wasn't armed.
But he wasn't the bad guy here.
"STOP!" Rocket shouted, his voice breaking with panic. "You're gonna kill him! You want that kind of blood on your hands?" He yelled, his eyes flashing like a lion's in rage. Thomas looked up at him. I could image his eyes slitting as it made it to his thick brain that I wasn't the one he wanted. He spoke for the first time, his voice low and gravelly.
"The kid walks, and I get you." It was a question.
"Yes."
Hands released me and I choked, trying to rub feeling back into my numbed throat. I gasped, scrambling to my feet.
Ouch.
I swayed back and forth blindly, and opened my eyes just enough to see Rocket grab me by the shoulders, hard.
"Kid, you gotta jet. I don't know how this is gonna go down. Get out of here, get backup, some of the older kids. Don't. Stop. Running." He said urgently, locking eyes with me.
Hazel met brown.
I ran, looking back. It had started to sprinkle, and the thunderheads overhead crackled ominously, lightening splitting the sky in white-hot streaks. Rocket was squaring off against Thomas, both boys' hair matted to their head. He looked back, his freckles standing out dark out his nose against his stark white skin. He gave me a genuine smile, one filled with promise and caring.
Then he turned to fight for his life.
That was the last time I saw my friend Rocket alive. Then I decided I wanted to die after saving someone I love. I want to die nobly, repay my eternal debt and all that shit. I want to die at the end."
Dallas looked up, and cleared his throat. The silence echoed dumbly as the three other boys tried to absorb what they had just heard. Johnny was the first to speak.
"I want to die for the greater good, y'know? I'll feel good if I do something for others," Johnny said evenly, meeting eyes with us one by one. I nodded slowly, walking over to Pony and draping my arm over his shoulder. Pony didn't acknowledge this, didn't even move. I shook his shoulder slowly, trying to bring him back to the world.
"Pone?" I asked, still trying to read Dal's expression. He cast his eyes downward, suddenly interesting in the glowing cherry-red ash of his weed.
Pony looked up slowly, his expression still dazed as he pulled out of his dream world, the one he retreated to.
I hated when he went places I couldn't follow.
I was even more taken aback when I saw that tears glistened in his expressive story grey eyes.
"Something bad's brewing Soda," He said with a troubled expression. Puzzled, I glanced up at the sky. It was just approaching twilight, the sky darkening slightly as the bright blue faded to a dusky lilac-blue.
I shrugged, turning my attention to a couple of broads pulling up in a rusty truck. I gave them a bright smile, stepping down the curb to fill up their tank.
I thought no more of what Dal or Pony said.
I should of. But I know better now.
I was shaken back to the present by Two-Bit. He was looking at me quizzically, his head cocked like an inquisitive squirrel.
"Where'd you zone to, buddy? You've been walking for like ten minutes with a blank look on your face. Anything wrong?" He asked; a look of slight caution on his face. I had been known to lash out when asked touchy questions, usually with heavy objects or my fists. Once, after I had a bad fight with Sandy, I had thrown or toaster though the wall. Darry hadn't been too happy about that one. But now I merely shrugged, setting my jaw. We were almost at the park, rounding the last corner.
It ends now.
In the faraway distance, I saw Eddie Holden, tossing something up in the air, and then catching it neatly in what looked like a baseball glove. Adrenaline jolted through my body, setting my nerves on fire. I gripped my socket wrench tighter, feeling the reassuring bite of metal into flesh before stowing it safely into my jacket. I wanted to have a little chat with Eddie before I messed him up.
The grass crunched frostily under my feet as we stomped toward Eddie. Only a few months till school was out, I realized numbly. Ponyboy would be frantic when he woke up. Ifhe woke up. I shook this thought violently out of my head. This was for Ponyboy. I'd think of him later.
I looked over at my best friends, my brothers. Steve was shivering slightly in his thin t-shirt but otherwise looked determined, single-minded. I knew he didn't give much thought to Ponyboy, but he wanted to protect me from myself. He knew me inside and out, knew that if I killed Eddie I would never forgive myself.
Two-Bit was nearly vibrating with anticipation, but under that I could see a layer of grimly suppressed agony. Two-Bit hated when his friends were unhappy. He was like a mother hen, messing up anybody who messed with our heads or bodies. I knew he was taking Pony's case especially hard, since he felt like it was kinda his fault.
I set my shoulders as we came within hearing distance of Eddie. I shrugged on a casual walk, putting my hands in my pockets. The air crackled with energy, the puffy grey clouds casting menacing shadows. The sun was gone from the sky, either have already set or just hiding, I didn't know. The wind swirled around us like an ally, tossing our hair and rustling the grass, flattening it out then nudging it gently back up, the tiny green stalks waving tentatively in the breeze.
They, like us, were helpless against the harsh wind, just like we were powerless against fate.
Well, here goes everything, I thought with a heavy internal sigh. Then I stepped forward and did something I never thought I'd do: I tapped a Soc on the shoulder.
The baseball dropped to the dirt with a thud, where it would stay until it was picked up by some little kid days and days later.
Eddie whirled around a look of complete surprise on his face. He clearly had thought he would be left alone at 6 PM, when all the small kids had headed home for dinner and the older kids to bars or to pick up broads.
He hadn't counted on us.
Steve's fist smashed into his face lightning-fast and quicker than even I could blink Two-Bit had him in a tight headlock. I stepped forward as Eddie struggled helplessly, his eyes wide and panicky. Blood dripped slowly from his nose.
"Hello, Eddie." I said pleasantly, looking down at him. My heart was beating a million miles a minute and my palms were clammy.
"Wha-?" He muttered, still reeling from the slugging Steve had given him. I looked at him blankly, hoping I wouldn't lose my head and start whaling on him. It couldn't go that way.
I had to teach him a lesson: nobody ever picks on my little brother.
I looked at him with cold eyes; the eyes of Dallas Winston. Looking up at me, he paled; everybody knew this look.
"You messed up Ponyboy so bad he's in the hospital. Eddie Holden, I swear to god, if you've fucked up my little brother more than he already is, you won't live to see tomorrow," I snarled, spitting harshly in his face. Spit dripped down his cheek in a slow arch, curving down his gaunt cheek.
Then he spoke.
"I-I didn't know he was your little brother," He stated, shaking his head violently. Blood flew out from his face in a long arch, landing in the grass, where the crimsion gleamed starkly against the brilliant green.
I laughed once, the sound ringing out loudly in the otherwise empty field. On the playground a swing swung back and forth, creaking loudly in the wind.
"You didn't know he was my brother? What kind of lame-ass excuse is that? So you'd beat up some other greaser's brother, but not mine, 'cause you knew we'd come and mess you up?" I asked harshly, practically yelling as I bit off the words one by one and spit them out.
Two-Bit's eyes met mine, and they showed no mercy for the boy that hung limply between him and Steve. Steve turned and pummeled him once in the stomach, then growled lowly, "That was for Ponyboy, you good-for-nothing Soc," Steve said, his eyes sparking with deep hate.
"You won't walk away from this unscarred, you little shit," Two-Bit growled, hefting him up so he was face-to-face with me. I met his eyes. My eyes showed no mercy for this teenager who hurt my brother. His eyes glinted in fear and anticipation of what was to come.
"You won't know the meaning of pain until we get down with you," I said softly, letting my soft words carry on the wind until they reached his ears.
We locked eyes.
Then he began yelling.
"PAUL!" He screamed, his voice cracking in panic as his blue eyes, so like Paul's, darted around frantically.
"He won't come." I said softly, my gaze still on his face. "If he does. It'll be too late. I'm not cruel, though. I'll give you more of a chance than you gave Ponyboy. I'll let you go before you slip into a coma!" I spat out, slapping him across the face. "LOOK AT ME!" I screamed wildly, my temper shooting through the roof when he refused to look me in the eyes. So he was okay with beating my little brother black and blue, but he didn't want to own up to it?
At that moment, my hatred for Socs deepened into straight-out revulsion.
"Scream all you want. I just don't care anymore," I said quietly, drawing back my fist to knock him out.
Then I heard a panic-filled yell behind me, hoarse with fear.
"NO! Leave him ALONE! He's just a KID!"
I turned around as soon as the pounding footsteps stopped.
Two-Bit's eyes widened the tiniest bit but he kept his hold firm on Eddie.
"Just leave, Paul." I said evenly, looking at Eddie's older brother square in the eyes. "I won't hurt him as bad as he hurt my brother, promise. Some of us actually have an inkling of a heart." I said, pacing forward to stroke my hand across Eddie's jaw. He whimpered softly through a clenched jaw, his eyes darting back and forth between his brother and me.
Paul looked at his little brother, taking a hesitant step forward, his hands searching unconsciously for a way to help his little brother.
"Beat me up instead, let him go." Paul whispered hopelessly. I didn't blame him. Three against one in any situation wasn't good odds to beat. Eddie's head snapped up.
I had heard words, very similar to those, moths ago.
"Thomas…let him go. I'll fight you; just…he's only a kid."
"What? NO, Paul! I-I'll be fine," Eddie said, straining as hard as he could against Steve and Two-Bit.
Two-Bit laughed without any humor. "No, you won't," He chuckled mirthlessly, his eyes cold steel. "You'll be lucky if you can walk home after we finish with you. " Steve said nothing but planted his feet, strengthening his grip on Eddie's arm. Eddie winced in obvious pain but said nothing, maybe hoping if he made no noise Paul would leave.
I drew back my fist once more, intent on making my message clear. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut tight.
"NO!" Paul grabbed my arm and threw it to my side.
"He's just a kid! Why are you doing this to him? What has he ever done to you?!?"
That was the wrong question.
I punched Paul so hard his head snapped back.
Blood spurted from his nose, which was already swelling. Eddie yelled so loudly my ears throbbed, and he threw himself against his restrainers. Steve and Two-Bit had been watching with tense eyes, but now Two-Bit roared in frustration and smacked Eddie's head down, holding it there so he couldn't look up.
"Jesus, Soda!" He roared. "Let's do this and leave!" Two-Bit screeched, struggling mightily with Eddie, who was currently trying to bite his leg. Steve had let go to help me pin down Paul.
At that moment the sky decided it was high time to pour. Rain pelted down from the sky, soaking the five of us to the bone. The ground quickly turned to mush, making us slip like we were on a mudslide.
In that second, my world narrowed down to one thing as everything else faded away. I had to find Ponyboy.
I yelled in frustration, looking up at the heavens in disbelief. This can't, isn't happening, I said to myself in complete disbelief, slightly hysterically. It was like the rumble all over again.
I was reliving the worst day of my life, even worse than when the police came to tell me mum and dad were gone for good.
Then my cheekbone exploded in pain.
I staggered away, cupping my throbbing cheek. I looked to my left to see Steve full-out wrestling with Paul. Paul's arm was still drawn back from the punch he had delivered to me, his face contorted in lines of anger.
"Nobody messes with my little brother!" Holden yelled, looking like he wanted to punch my face in. I threw my hands up in complete and total annoyment.
I couldn't see my little brother, and that scared me something awful. What if he was hurt?
"Why the HELL do you think I'm slugging Paul? I'm teaching him a lesson for putting MY little brother IN THE HOSPITAL!" I yelled as loudly as I could, staring him down, daring him to look away first. His face scrunched up in lines of confusion.
"Pony? Answer me, goddamnit! Ponyboy, are you okay?"
We stared at each other, the rain plastering our hair to our skulls. I blinked hard, forcing a trickle of water out of my eye. His blue eyes glinted icily, and his body was tensed like a livewire, as was mine.
In that moment I saw myself in Paul.
We both loved our brothers; and would fight to the death to protect them.
We both didn't know where we belonged.
We both wanted to please our families.
Maybe Socs and Greasers weren't as different as people seemed to think.
My world rocked violently as I realized that I chould choose tonight whether or not Paul Holden went home with a little brother or not.
It was my choice.
I stepped away, blinking hard to keep from letting tears loose.
Steve currently had Paul in a deathgrip, even though Paul was a good three inches taller than Steve. Two-Bit was wrestling with Eddie madly, trying not to step on his as he hopped around. Eddie's hands snaked around his ankles and tugged powerfully, and Two-Bit hit the ground with a thud.
The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
Dally, his body twisting like a broken rag doll under the streetlights, on the rain-slicked streets, our screams echoing in the air as gunfire rang out, blasting through our ears and etching into our memories.
That was when I made my choice.
Shaking his hair out of his eyes, Two-Bit let out a warcry of outrage and pinned Eddie down, lining up his fist with Eddie's nose, which was still bleeding freely.
"Two-Bit," I said quietly, still staring at Paul. Two-Bit continued sitting on Eddie, pressing harder on his throat. Eddie made a choking noise, and started to turn blue.
"STOP!" Rocket shouted, his voice breaking with panic. "You're gonna kill him! You want that kind of blood on your hands?"
"I ran over to Two-Bit, wrenching his hand off of Eddie's neck. Eddie shuddered once than breathed deeply, struggling to stand. Steve had back off when he saw me let go of Holden, but he still kept a wary eyes on his hands. Two-Bit looked up at my in complete surprise, looking like a drowned rat in the pouring rain.
"Soda, wha-?" He said puzzledly, cocking his eyebrow.
"We're done here" I said quietly, looking at Paul help up his little brother and check his neck, not caring that blood was streaming down his own face and staining his t-shirt.
"I- let's gone home." I said again, suddenly bone-tired and just done with this all. I knew Eddie wouldn't mess with Pony again, and that was all that mattered. I rubbed my hand over my face, swiping away the rain.
I started walking.
Two-Bit and Steve, though utterly confused, obediently started following, shooting each other confused looks.
I looked back, just once as I headed out of the park and down the street.
Paul was helping Eddie the other way, toward the rich side of town. He looked back as well.
Green met blue.
He mouthed I guess we're even! And I let a tiny smile slip, and nodded slightly. I would consider us even if Pony woke up. And maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't hate Socs so much anymore.
But that would have to wait for another day.
Just then, the rain stopped. I looked up in amazement, shaking my head. Jesus God, you have really bad timing, I thought, waiting up for Two-Bit and Steve and slinging my arms around their shoulders.
We walked to my house in the dark, just happy to be together.
I reached into the eaves of the sagging porch and groped around for a key, smiling in triumph when my hand hit metal. I dragged it down and unlocked the door quietly.
Then I remembered there was no Ponyboy sleeping on the couch, draped over his unfinished homework as the TV blared in the background. I had no clue where Darry was.
My house was cold and unwelcoming.
I shivered and rubbed my arms. The house was cold and dark. I stepped into the living room, and flicked on the lights.
Nothing had changed since the night we brought Pony to the hospital. My DX shirt was still draped over the couch, and Pony's homework lay completed on the table.
Steve and Two-Bit were right on my heels, and for once they didn't slam the door. Steve stopped before he ran into me, and Two-Bit slammed into him, hard. Steve absentmindedly turned around and steadied him. They were chest to chest.
Two-Bit gave Steve an odd look before pushing off his hands.
"Lay off man, I don't swing that way. You know I like my girls big and blonde, not rat-faced and male," Two-Bit joked, half-serious.
Steve merely rolled his eyes and flipped Two-Bit the bird.
I snorted with laughter before tiredly kicking off my shoes and slumping on the couch.
I hope we get to bring Ponyboy home soon, I thought drowsily, my thoughts running together in a sleep-hazed blur.
I dimly realized that Two-Bit and Steve had also sat down, and had become silent.
I curled up in the corner, resting my head on the scratchy armrest and tucking my arms into the warmth of my body.
I miss you, Ponyboy, was my last conscious thought. But it was hours before the tears stopped running down my cheeks.
(A/N ) I hope you guys like this! I think *sniff sniff* this story is nearing a close….mayyybe three or four more chapters? Anyway, if you like what you read, puh-lease R&R!!!
Love, Kait (p.s. - this chapter was the hardest to write – I was crying as I wrote the fight…but this is what I think is my best chapter... I hope you like my little bit of crazy. Xxx Kait)