The next day was Saturday. Pony got up with a headache, the therapy session still on his mind. "So would it be fair to say it was your fault," the therapist's words kept replaying in his head. He got the blade out of the drawer, but there was a knock on the door, Pony quickly put the blade back. "Pony," it was Soda's voice. Pony walked up and opened the door. He didn't say anything. Soda looked at him softly – "I made pancakes for breakfast."

"Not hungry," Pony replied as per usual.

"C'mon you got to eat something, and then we go see Johnny at the hospital." Pony frowned – "I am not going."

"What do you mean? Why?" Soda sounded baffled and even shocked.

"I am not going," Pony yelled and slammed the door into Soda's face. He saw Soda's startled face right before the door slammed. Pony plopped on the bed, hot tears streaming down his face. He heard voices in the kitchen, but couldn't make out what Darry and Soda were saying. Pony wanted to get the blade, but decided to wait until Darry and Soda left for the hospital.

In a few minutes Pony heard heavy footsteps, he knew it was Darry. He quickly wiped the tears off his face. The footsteps stopped by Pony's door and there was a knock. "Whaaat?" Pony yelled.

"Ponyboy, open the door, we need to talk." Darry's voice was steady but firm. Reluctantly, Pony opened the door. "What?" He stared Darry right in the eyes refusing to be intimidated by him. "Ponyboy, I am not going to tolerate this, you have to eat something. Now," Darry raised his voice slightly.

"Or what?" Pony yelled, his eyes blazing with anger, "you will hit me again." Darry winced, "Ponyboy, I think we were past that, you know I would never raise my hand on you. Now, you need to eat something. I can bring the pancakes to your room if you don't want to get out of the room."

"I am not hungry." Pony scowled.

Darry sighed, "Now tell me why you are not going to the hospital with us, Johnny is your best friend."

"I am not going," Pony snapped again, "and don't bug me about it."

Darry furrowed his eyebrows, "Johnny needs you, it may help his recovery." He said, shaking his head.

"No," Pony yelled bitterly, leaning against the door, "he doesn't need me. Those socs should've just drowned me in that stupid fountain, then Johnny would be ok, he is going to die and it's all because of me." Pony didn't mean to let Darry know what was bothering him, and that he thought it was his fault, but the words just slipped his tongue and he couldn't take them back. Darry's facial expression changed to deep concern – "Oh Pony, it's not like that, please don't blame yourself. If you don't eat it's ok, but I think you should go to the hospital with us." At this point Pony couldn't even talk. He just shook his head. Darry sighed and started walking back. "If you change your mind, let us know" Darry said as he was walking away.

Pony crashed on the bed face down, muffling his sobs so Darry and Soda couldn't hear him. He couldn't wait for them to leave. Finally, Soda yelled "Pony we are leaving, are you sure you are not going?" Pony didn't say anything.

"Ok, I take it as a 'no'" Soda yelled, and then Pony heard the door open and shut as they left.

Pony jumped up from the bed and got his blade. He took a seat on the chair by his desk and proceeded to make incisions on his arms. He had old scars healing and new ones forming.

Finally he put the blade down, and relaxed against the chair. He felt pain, but it was better than the pain he felt from guilt. As he moved in a chair, a book fell on his lap. It was 'Gone with the Wind'. Pony covered his eyes with his palms. He couldn't lose Johnny for the 2nd time. 'He is your best friend, he needs you, it may help his recovery' Darry's words echoed in his head. Then he remembered doctor's words 'he can still hear you, it may increase his chances of waking up.' Pony got up quickly, an idea formulating in his mind. I am going to read to him, finish this book. He got to wake up. How could I say I wasn't going to see him, that only makes things worse. Pony quickly grabbed some change, put the shoes on, grabbed the book and ran outside. It was raining, but Pony didn't care. He almost ran to the bus station. The bus arrived right away, and Pony was glad.

Pony ran from the bus station and to the hospital door. He opened the door and walked in. He didn't bother signing his name in the visitation log, and just ran past the reception area and right into room 319. Nobody had stopped him as it was very busy, and nobody noticed Pony as he ran.

He stopped by the door for a minute and held his breath. Then pulled the door open. Inside, he saw Soda by Johnny's bed holding Johnny's hand and saying something, while Darry was standing by the door - a pained look on his face. They both looked startled as Pony walked in. There was dead silence, and you could hear a pin drop. "Pony," Soda finally managed, "I am glad you changed your mind."

"I… I am going to read to him," Pony stumbled over his words. "This book we… we started it when we were in Windrixville."

"Good idea," Soda pulled up a chair next to the headboard of Johnny's bed – "take a seat." Pony took a seat and opened the book. "So," he said, his voice quivering as he spoke, "I am going to read this book to you Johnny, where we left off when we were in Windrixville. I hope you can hear me, and I… ,"he bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from breaking down "and… I hope you recover soon."

Pony started reading "Too good to be true! Too good to be true!" sang Scarlett's joyful heart as she slipped unobtrusively into the pink- and yellow-draped booth that was to have been the McLure girls'. Actually she was at a party! After a year's seclusion, after crepe and hushed voices and nearly going crazy with boredom" Soda was still holding Johnny's hand, then the expression on his face turned to shock.

"What?" Darry and Pony said in unison.

"He moved, he moved his hand," Soda whispered. Pony's eyes got huge. "Keep reading," Darry prompted. So, Pony continued, trying his best to make sure his voice wasn't shaking "She sank down on one of the little stools behind the counter of the booth and looked up and down the long hall which, until this afternoon, had been a bare and ugly drill room. How the ladies must have worked today to bring it to its present beauty" Pony looked at Johnny.

Suddenly Johnny stirred and opened his eyes. He grabbed Soda's hand and stared at Pony – "what happened?"

"You… you were in a coma," Pony more mouthed than said.

"Oh," Johnny looked surprised.

"I think we need to get the doctor, I'll go get him," Darry said, glancing at Johnny, who was still holding Soda's hand.

"Did you hear me read?" Pony said carefully, smiling and a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"Sure did," Johnny gave him a weak smile. "This book sure is funny."

"If you say so," Pony smiled as he recovered from the initial shock.

At this moment the doctor and Darry walked in. "So," the doctor smiled and looked at Johnny. It was that same young doctor that had talked to them when Johnny was first admitted to the hospital. "So, you are awake," he said, trying to sound calm, but the blush on his cheeks showed that he was nervous. "We'll check your breathing and your vitals." Johnny still had the breathing machine and the IV hooked up. The doctor turned his attention to the guys. "Thank you for letting me know, I will take it from here. You can visit him tomorrow again if you wish." Darry nodded, and Soda seemed frozen in place so Darry had to nudge him slightly to make him walk towards the door. Pony was hesitant as well. He was afraid this young inexperienced doctor would screw up, and Johnny would get worse, but of course he had no say on the matter. "We'll be back tomorrow Johnny," Pony said, turning around as he was walking towards the door.

As they were outside the room, Pony, who was holding up ok up to this moment and who made sure not to lose it in front of Johnny, now totally lost it. He covered his eyes with his palms and started to cry. Soda and Darry were emotional as well. "It's ok little buddy," Darry pulled Pony and Soda into a hug.

"I just want him to be alright," Pony sobbed.

"He will be, he will be alright," Soda stroke Pony's hair.

Pony felt happy and relieved that Johnny was out of the coma, but when they got home, gloomy thoughts started to enter his mind once again – he'll be in a wheelchair and it's all my fault Pony thought. His happiness from moments ago disappeared momentarily. He quickly got the blade out.

After Pony was done cutting, he went into the living room, where Soda and Darry were sitting on the couch talking about something. Probably about me, Pony thought. "How are you holding up?" Darry looked up at Pony.

"'m ok'" Pony managed, walking into the room and taking a seat next to Soda.

"Johnny is going to be ok," Soda said softly, "he is tough." Pony just sighed.

"What's the matter?" Darry sounded confused, "aren't you happy?"

"Of course I am happy," Pony mumbled, staring into the distance, "but still…"

"Still what?" Darry said, concern in his voice.

"he … he is going to be in a wheelchair…,"Pony trailed of, "living with those good for nothings.," he looked down, then looked right at Darry, meeting his eyes, "They are not going to take care of him." Darry ran his fingers through his hair, and Soda turned pale. "I haven't thought about that," Darry said, "Tell you what - let's take one step at a time. Let him recover fully, then we'll figure something out ok Pone?"

"I was thinking…," Pony said, his voice shaking, "maybe he can live with us. I know you work really hard, but I can get a job." Darry was thoughtful for a moment, and both Pony and Soda were looking expectantly at him. "I think that will be fine," Darry said, a stern look on his face.

"Really?" Pony smiled.

"Yeah." Darry returned the smile.

On Sunday Pony, Soda and Darry showed up at the hospital right at 10 a.m. when the visitation hours started. They went to sign in their names, but the receptionist informed them that they would have to wait, because the doctor was with Johnny at the moment. "Can we talk to the doctor when he is done?" Darry said firmly, clenching his jaw.

"Sure, I'll let him know you want to speak to him."

"Thanks," Darry said, and the three of them went into the waiting room.

In about 20 minutes the doctor walked into the room. He noticed Darry, Soda and Pony, and waved them over. Darry looked at him expectantly – "good morning doctor."

"Good morning."

"So how is Johnny doing?" Pony bit his bottom lip.

"So, his breathing is better, but not quite there yet. I think he is definitely on the way to recovery. If everything goes well, we will be able to discharge him by the end of next week."

"Oh, that'd be great" Pony said, and there was a catch in his voice. "But he still… he is still going to be in a wheelchair right?" Pony mumbled. The doctor looked down – "yes," "We are going to see him, is that ok?" Soda asked next.

"He is a little tired after I have examined him, but you can see him."

"Thank you." Darry said, and the three of them headed down the hallway and took the elevator to the 3rd floor.

They entered the room. Johnny was sitting in bed the pillows supporting his back. "Hey," he smiled. "Hey," the guys replied. It warmed Pony's heart to see his friend smiling. "So," Pony walked to Johnny's bed," "the doc said you will be discharged by the end of next week."

"Yeah, I know," Johnny smiled again, "he told me, tuff enough. I'll still be in a wheelchair, but I guess it's better than dead," Johnny looked down. There was silence - nobody knew what to say to that.

"You know," Pony said excitedly, "you can live with us once you are discharged." Johnny's face got really serious. Then he looked down and said, "I couldn't do that." Pony's face fell, "why not?"

"I couldn't," Johnny repeated, "Darry doesn't need one more mouth to feed."

"It would be no problem," Darry tried, but Johnny shook his head – "no." Pony felt blood rush to his temples, he started breathing heavily, then turned around and ran out of the room. "Sorry Johnny," Soda said quickly, and ran out after Pony. "Pony wait," Soda yelled.

Soda caught up with Pony by the elevator. "What the hell is the matter with you?" Soda yelled, his face pale, he was getting emotional as well.

"It's all… all because of me, he is in the wheelchair and now he is not even going to live with us. He is going to live with those assholes," Pony choked up on his words. Soda sighed, "Please Pony calm down. We will talk to him again once he is recovered, but it is his decision to make not ours. Please let's go back into the room, you can say a proper goodbye to Johnny. You don't want to leave him worried do you?"

"Fine," Pony pouted.

They went into the room. "Sorry Johnny," Pony mumbled. And as he said that, the thoughts just bombarded his mind. "Sorry Johnny for falling asleep at the lot, sorry Johnny for dragging you to the park in the middle of the night, sorry Johnny that the socs were drowning me, sorry Johnny for not letting you get out of the blazing church and selfishly getting out first," Pony screamed. He looked Johnny in the eyes. "It is all my fault and now you won't even go live with us."

Johnny looked startled, then a tear rolled down his cheek. "Ok, I will stay with you, just don't cry and," he stumbled over his words, a little "don't blame yourself… please."

The ride home was in silence. Pony felt a little better now that Johnny agreed to stay with them, but he still felt guilty that Johnny was in a wheelchair. Once home, Pony ran into his room, and got the blade. All the thoughts were mixing up in his head.

The week was mundane. Pony was just sitting through his classes, not following what was going on. A few times he got called on in English, which usually was his favorite subject, but this time he really didn't know what was going on and what question the teacher had asked. So he was just sitting there like a bump on a log not saying anything. So now he could add to his gloomy thoughts the words of his English teacher "I am disappointed in you, Ponyboy." Every day, as he got home, he right away got his blade.

On Friday he had his 2nd therapy session. Darry dropped him off at 7 p.m. Pony dreaded it. Even though he'd seen Mr. Ronalds only once, he already hated him. "Hello Ponyboy," Mr. Ronalds greeted and took a sip of his coffee. "So let's talk about Dallas. Do you think that after what he did, he deserved to die?" "No I don't," Pony managed, avoiding the therapist's eyes.

"It says here," the therapist said, "Dallas pointed the gun at the policemen."

"It wasn't loaded," Pony snapped. Mr. Ronalds perked up, as if he was just waiting for that answer. "How do you know that?"

"He told me earlier." Pony glared at Mr. Ronalds.

"So you knew that Dallas had a gun." Pony felt trapped, but there was no way he could take his words back. "Yes, I knew." He said sharply, jamming his fists.

"And you didn't report him."

"No I didn't." Pony scowled.

"You know, you can get in serious trouble for that." Mr. Ronalds said.

"I am not hiding," Pony snapped.

"Alright, easy, easy," Mr. Ronalds said coldly, "I see you don't want to talk about this."

"No, I don't" Pony said, not keeping the anger out of his voice.

"What would you like to talk about?"

"Nothing." Pony swallowed hard.

Mr. Ronalds frowned, "if you think of something, let me know," He picked up his cup with coffee and turned the volume on the radio up.

So for the rest of the session Pony sat in silence. When it was time to go, he got up and started walking away. The therapist didn't seem concerned, but as Pony was leaving, Mr. Ronalds called after him, "I will let your social worker Ms. Nelson, know that you are being difficult and refusing to talk." Pony's heart sank, should've known, he thought. He wanted the blade there and then, which he got out as soon as he got home.