*I don't own the Outsiders.

(PPOV)

This chapter starts off with a flashback, it takes place 2-3 months after Mr. and Mrs. Curtis passed away. Please excuse incorrect grammar.

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I watched from my spot on the couch as Soda danced around the kitchen. Darry was watching from the table, surrounded by bills, shaking his head at what was suppose to be dinner.

"Hey Pone, I know what you should get me.." I broke Soda off right there.

"Why should I get you anything?" I tried not to laugh, man if Two-Bit saw me now, I'd end up spending two hours in Two-Bit's poker face training school. It'd happened before, me and Johnny, I shuddered at the memory and didn't even finish the thought.

Soda grinned at me, "Well if you let me finish, you should get me one of those tall white chef hats all those guys wear, I make you dinner after all." He glanced out of the corner of his dark dancing brown eye.

"Darry makes me dinner too, I make dinner..."

"Yeah but you burn it sometimes and Darry isn't as creative as me."

"At least me and Darry's dinners are always edible." I argued. Darry was laughing at us, clearly amused by our banter.

"Yeah well....um..in order to get something great I got to try a lot of things. You of all people should know that, like that guy who paints you were telling me about. I bet his first painting wasn't the one he's famous for."

I rolled my eyes at him and walked into the kitchen, wearily looking at what he wanted us to eat, "Your comparing that green, cheesy glob to a Picasso painting I was telling you about? Soda, a word of advice, never make a cheesy substance green, it's a turn off." I sniffed and recoiled.

"Darry, he's trying to kill us! What in the world is this?" Darry came up to my side and stared at it for a good minute.

"Soda, me and Pone aren't eating that, actually you ain't either, I don't need to deal with you getting food poisoning. Pony, why don't you order some Chinese or pizza, I don't care which. Soda, just clean this toxic waste up."

Soda scoffed, though I could see the humor in his eyes, "I worked hard making that." I watched as I dialed the number for some pizza, two large, one cheese, one with sausage, pepper, and onions.

"Smell it." I told him.

He rolled his eyes at me, grabbed the bowl and sniffed. His eyes widened, he grabbed a spoon and dumped it into the garbage, it made a plopping sound, yuck, what did he put in that?

"Failed experiment number 11." Soda sighed. Darry started in on Soda about not wasting food, and that Soda needed to keep edible food edible. Only in this family do you need to be lectured on keeping food safe to eat.

Soda playfully insulted, tackled Darry. I laughed as the two of them growled at each other, trying to pin one another but laughing too hard to get anywhere.

Next thing I knew I was being tickled to death.

I smiled at the memory. It's one of my favorite memories from after my parents dying. One of the first times I'd felt it was okay to be just me and my brothers. The memory might be boring or stupid to someone else, but it represented a lot for me.

Please, God, let me get that back. I need some normalcy in my life.

I glanced at the clock, it was the first time I was alone in the hospital while I was conscious. At least I wasn't on that heart monitor anymore, if I was the nurses would think something was wrong with me, my heart was pounding hard. I felt nauseous, but I wasn't sure if that was from being worried or the medications, probably both.

I hated not being at that rumble. I knew there was no way I could be there, I was still in a lot of pain, not as bad as it had been, but enough that I couldn't even stand up yet. At least, every time I breath there isn't a ball of fire in my rib cage. I looked at my arm, finger marks curled there way around my biceps. I shivered as the memory washed over me once again.

Fear, cold, gasping for air but getting nothing but water, cold steel....

I swallowed bile down. I was scared being here alone. I was scared someone was going to get hurt, despite all the reassurances, despite the fact they can all take care of themselves, despite the fact it was only skin on skin. At the same time, I was pissed. I hated Bob Sheldon and Randy Adderson with everything I have, but I was still terrified of them.

Did they regret what they put my brothers through, Johnny, the gang? Did they even regret what they did to me?

I don't know the answer to that.

I watched the clock and waited for the gang to return, hopefully everyone in one piece.

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(Third Person POV)

The Shepards, Brumly Boys, the gang, and a few other greasers waited for the Socs to arrive. Everyone was tensed slightly and ready for anything. Excitement sparked through the air, humming, everyone's thoughts focused on beating the Socs' faces in bare handed.

They stood strong, proud, and powerful.

The cat like JD on the other side of the lot motioned for one of the largest, Darrel Curtis to come over. They discussed who would start, Darry being the obvious choice, due to size and intimidation factor, the icy blue eyes were a storm tonight, hate, anger, pain, and worry for the youngest greaser all caused by the Socs, made them colder than usual.

"How's Ponyboy doing?" Tim asked only to make some conversation, or maybe to tell everyone about later, the gang hadn't been around for questioning and gossip was running wild.

"He's going to be fine, he almost died." Darry swallowed. "He's in some pain right now, but hasn't complained about anything, he's tougher than I ever gave him credit for and that's saying something."

A cool chuckle slid from Tim Shepard's lips, tauntingly he sang, "Never underestimate a Curtis, they may beat ya all into dirt if ya mess with their gang." He wasn't exactly a poet, his eyes traveled to Darry's then Dally's.

"I heard you all went after the Socs who hurt him and Johnny?"

"Yeah, beat they're asses, I doubt most of them would be able to come tonight even if they wanted to." Dallas smiled a cruel, bitter smile.

Tim mirrored the gesture, mustangs rolled up, "Let this rumble begin."

Chaos broke out the moment the first punch was thrown at Darry. Fists flew and the air was charged with rage, hate, and enjoyment. The sounds of knuckles breaking against faces, the ripping of clothes, and swears and insults from everyone, filled the air.

Sodapop and Steve doubled up, taking on three Socs, they made it look effortless, each swing for Soda and Steve represented every second those guys held the youngest greaser under the water, every time Johnny got scared from nothing because of what they did to him, for those hours they didn't know if Pony was going to live or not, and every heartache they'd been put through.

Dallas Winston fought without a pause, moving on to the next one, while keeping an eye out for Johnny Cade. The two ended up pairing up and taking out Soc after Soc. Johnny was scared before, but now he fought as well as anyone his size could, he felt proud as he broke the idiot's nose.

Two-Bit and Darrel both fought aggressively, never hesitating, always following through. Both found a small amount of joy was brought with each swing, a feeling of victory as they advanced to the next Soc.

"They're running!"

Some greasers may have been beaten, broken, and bleeding, but it was worth it to see the West side rich kids run. They have a lot of things, but they couldn't win the rumble and no amount of money would change that, and they couldn't steal the greasers' pride.

Tonight the greasers would celebrate who they are.