Update! I know, amazing, huh? This one has been done for a bit, but the Shaw Internet decided to be pissy. So here it is now!

Disclaimer: The usual

On with the show!

Over the next week, it became apparent to Ross that I was going to make myself at home at Buck's until I got enough money to get me to Florida for the winter. He was less than pleased with that idea, but what else could I do? I got picked up for squatting under the bridge, and his house was a death trap on top of being where his abusive, alcoholic father was waiting for me to come back. Of course he'd grumbled and growled at me for a while. In fact, every time I saw him during that week, he had nothing nice to say to me. As it turns out, finding a job in Tulsa isn't as easy as you'd think. So it was a good thing Buck finally offered to let me help out at the bar. I was glad. Buck was a nice guy. Ross didn't think much of him. He bossed him around a lot and treated all of Buck's stuff like it was his. But then Buck never said anything about it, either. I suppose they were both ok with it then.

The first weekend I was living at Buck's found me in the midst of a party. I was mainly behind the bar because I nearly dropped every drink I tried to carry. I had no balance and no head for figures, so I was better off just standing at the bar and passing off whatever was mixed. I did get delegated to going and getting the requested beer brands from the back fridge, but that was ok. I was left alone for the most part, too. Buck would glance over to see how I was doing from time to time, but that was about it until Two-Bit showed up.

He walked into the room laughing at something he'd been talking about outside and it carried into the bar room easily. The whole place seemed to gain more energy with his good humor. Even I relaxed a little. By the time he made it over to the bar, I was ready to set out and find him myself, though. He smiled at me and I smiled back.

"Hey Pass. What're you doing back there?"

"Buck and Ross agreed I could make some money at the bar tonight," I answered.

He reached across the bar and I ducked my head as he pushed my bangs out of my face. They were covering up the faded bruises and at least let me pretend I could hide in this crowd of people. He raised an eyebrow before pulling his hand back.

"They're healin' nice. No point in hidin' them."

"This way people don't openly stare," I answered. "They just give you pity looks out of the corner of their eyes. I need the tips too much to go with openly staring."

Two-Bit looked around and shrugged before hopping up so he could sit on the bar. I was about to shoo him away when he started yelling.

"Hey everybody!"

A few were brave enough to call back "Hey, Two-Bit" and there were a few "Shut the hell up"s but he pretty well had the attention of the bar room.

"Everybody having a good time?" he asked and there was applause this time. "That's what I thought! How about a hand for Buck?"

Now that got a good-natured round of boos and a few claps here and there. Buck graciously waved and there were laughs. Two-Bit was beaming at himself as I wondered what he was up to. He stood up on the bar and I backed away and craned my neck to see him.

"Well, at least Buck's a good sport. If we're clapping for him, we'd better all give a cheer to the bar staff making sure we're all good and liquored up."

Everyone cheered and I resisted the urge to hide under the bar. But Two-Bit wasn't done. It felt like he was never done.

"And one is a very good friend of mine. Miss Passin Through! So let's not leave her too big a mess to clean up, huh?"

The last part was met with good humor and Two-Bit finally hopped off the bar. He smiled at me and I hoped the glare I sent him was enough.

"What did you do that for?" I asked.

"So you'll get tips!" he answered and I sighed.

"Two-Bit…"

"Starting with me. Here's a … bottle cap," he said, pulling the only thing in his pockets out.

I smiled and held my hand out for it anyways. He breathed on it and polished it up before he handed it over.

"Now, that's a genuine Miller cap. So keep a good hold on that and it might be worth something someday."

"I will," I replied, figuring I would probably put a hole through it and string it to something so I wouldn't lose it. "Thank you."

"Hell, kid. We need to just randomly pick a birthday out for you so you don't look so awed when someone gives you something." Two-Bit shook his head.

I shrugged in return and picked up a cloth from under the bar to wipe down some of the rings left by the cold glasses.

"Want to get your good buddy Two-Bit a beer?" he asked, slinging an arm around my shoulders.

"And just what will you be paying with?" I asked.

"Bottle caps!" he replied and I laughed. "I have a tab, honest. I even pay it sometimes."

I glanced down the bar at the guy who was pouring the drinks. I thought his name was Dave for a while, but it could be Greg. Whatever his name was, he was paying attention and nodded. Two-Bit grinned like it was his lucky day and tugged me toward the kitchen where there was a fridge full of the bottled beers. We had stuff on tap up front. Buck said he had some had to get stuff in there I wasn't allowed to give away, but I had no idea which of it was hard to find. It was all beer to me.

"Let's see…Bud… Bud…Miller!" he pulled a Miller from the fridge and smiled "And it's cold."

"Of course," I answered, "It was in a fridge."

"No, it's really cold. Feel."

The next thing I knew he had that bottle pressed to my cheek and I squeaked, pushing him away.

"Two-Bit!" I groused.

"Well, now you know." He shrugged like that was common sense.

"Quit screwin' around back here!" Buck called from the door, glaring at Two-Bit. "You payin' your tab tonight?"

"Absolutely." Two-Bit nodded with a smile and Buck grunted before heading back to the party. "If I'm sober enough to remember to."

"You don't have any money," I pointed out.

"Well, there's that, but I don't plan on being sober for much longer, let alone sober enough to remember that nice little talk with Buck. Thanks for the beer, Pass. Anyone bothers you and you just point them my way with another Miller, ok?"

I nodded as he strolled out of the kitchen humming something under his breath. That was the third time someone had made that offer, minus the Miller, of course. Ross was first, then Buck and now Two-Bit. Between the three of them, I would be fine. But if I did need help, I probably wouldn't have to work my way down the list. As much as Ross and I had grown apart and become different people, he still said he'd look out for me. And with the reputation he had around here, I didn't doubt that just calling for him would put down trouble.

I looked around the door at where there were three guys leaning against the bar like they were waiting for something. Well, from the looks Dave or Greg was sending me, I figured out they were waiting on me. So I brushed my bangs out of my face, put on a small smile and hoped I didn't stutter through this one. That was the main reason why I generally didn't say anything at all to people.

As it turned out, no one bothered me all night. I think the bruises were the main reason. Someone told me once that if you were already banged up, a guy wasn't going to do any more damage since he didn't get there first. It didn't make sense to me, but I didn't figure it had to as long as it held true. By the end of the night, I had a few dollars in tips and Buck was passed out. A lot of the people who were still there were passed out. The guy working the drinks told me it was typical and that clean up was normally the next morning. It was close to two so I was more than happy to head upstairs and to bed. Ross had officially surrendered his room to me and taken the one beside it. He never said why and I never asked. I was expecting him to boot me out of there after the first night, but he hadn't really said anything. Not that he said much to me. Well, when he wasn't laying down the law. I had more rules here than I'd ever had before and that counted the year I'd lived in a state home.

But it appeared Ross had no rules. The next morning, he was already out and about while I was restricted to Buck's less than humble establishment. I didn't have anywhere to be, but being restricted was not something I enjoyed. I made the most of it by cleaning up what was left from the night before and finally moved to make myself something to eat. I was just sitting down to breakfast when the front door slammed shut and I rolled my eyes. It was about time Ross came back. I dished out another plate while his boots clunked on the worn barroom floor. I had his dish sitting on the island beside mine by the time he opened the door. I opened my mouth to greet him but the words died on my tongue. That was not Ross.

I think my mouth opened like a fish's a couple times by the time he had looked around the room and finally let his eyes land on me. His brown eyes sparked and a smile spread across his face. I bit my lip as he tipped his cowboy hat back and a lock of brown hair stuck over his forehead. I was hoping he didn't remember me.

"Why, if it isn't little Jocey."

Well, he remembered me.

"How you doin', Cuz?" he asked, sauntering over to the island.

"Fine, thanks. You?"

"Better than you. Who'd little Jocey-Angel manage to piss off?" He asked, hauling himself onto Ross' usual stool.

I bristled at him using Grandma Winston's nickname for me. No one called me that, not anymore. It sounded wrong now.

"None of your business, Del," I replied. "Go on home before you get in trouble."

"Now, is that anyway to treat a concerned family member?" He asked, picking up Ross' fork and popping a piece of egg into his mouth.

"That's Ross'," I told him and he shrugged, taking another bite.

"Me an' Dal are on good terms."

"You won't be if he comes home hungry," I pointed out, hopping of the stool and putting my plate in the sink.

"Is that how you got that shiner?" he asked and I shook my head. "No, Dal always liked you. Let you get away with calling him Ross and everything."

"How's your mom, Del?" I asked, washing up the dirty dishes from breakfast with a long glance at the dirty bar mugs from last night. I'd have to get those washed, too.

I'd always liked Aunt Jenny. She was kind and nice. How Delbert ever came from her or Uncle Frank was beyond me.

"Doin' alright. How about yours?" I stiffened as he paused, a wicked smile spreading across his face "Oh, that's right. I nearly forgot. Silly me."

"You're an asshole," I told him, leaving the dishes as they were in favor of leaving the room before I got anymore ridiculously upset.

"C'mon, Jocey. I didn't mean to dredge up anything, honest."

Yeah, he almost sounded sincere, too. This was the boy who used to beat up on all the younger cousins at family get-togethers. He'd taunt and make fun and make your heart hurt. I think it made him feel better about himself. Well, that or he liked being cruel for the power kick it gave him. And when he apologized it was because his dad had his belt ready. I didn't see Uncle Frank anywhere, which meant that every word from his mouth was a lie.

"Leave Del. You're walking on thin ice."

"What? Little Jocey-Angel has sensitive ears all of a sudden?" he asked, smirking as he followed me around the bar room where there were still tables to be cleaned. "Can't handle hearing the truth?"

"Shut up," I hissed and he smirked. "Ross –"

"Ross what?" he asked with a smile. "You ain't his favorite no more. He ain't going to stick up for you. No one wants to take up for you."

He knew he was getting to me, but I couldn't hide that his words were hitting home. I didn't ever think about it and he was just being an asshole by bringing it up.

"Poor little Jocey. All alone. It's a good thing you were your daddy's favorite."

I clutched the mug in my hand and thought about hitting him. The next thing I knew he was clutching his bloody nose and the mug was shattered on the barroom floor. I hadn't waited to see the results. I was on autopilot as I climbed the stairs and grabbed the duffle I always kept packed. I was out the back door a minute later and running for the Curtis' house where I'd left Sam. I didn't care that I was still sore from that beating or that I was numb all over. I was getting out of Tulsa with my tips and a Miller Genuine Draught cap – my first ever tip and present – in my pocket.

By the time I reached the house, I was out of breath and more determined to hit the road than ever. My hand shook as I opened the door and whistled for Sam. He came when he was called; the only problem was that everyone seemed to follow him - everyone being Two-Bit and Ponyboy, that is.

"Hey Pass! Some party last night." Two-Bit was smiling so I turned away and started down the front steps. "Where're you going?"

"Away from here!" I answered, adjusting my pack and pulling Sam along by the scruff of his neck.

"What's the hurry?" he asked, walking on one side of me while Ponyboy flanked the other.

I ignored him. My throat felt closed off and my eyes were stinging. I didn't want him there. I didn't want anything but Florida. I should have left before this.

"You're hurting the dog," Pony pointed out and I let go of Sam like he was red hot.

I kept walking until Two-Bit stepped in front of me and gave me a long look. I stopped. Things in my life never turned out right. I couldn't even run away from a place that kind of was like home. He was going to make me stay until I calmed down and once I did, I wasn't going to be able to leave again. So I gave up, shoulders slumped and duffle on the ground. He was going to ask, he was going to pry, and by the end of it, I was going to hate myself all over again.

"I'm never getting out of Tulsa, am I?"

Two-Bit threw me a pity look.

"That's what I thought."

Any comments at all are welcome and flames welcome.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens and Zickachik