Disclaimers: SE Hinton owns the Outsiders. Uh, probably a cliffhanger. I warned you.

Pedal to the Floor

OoO

He's buried underneath the covers when I get up the next morning. So far buried I can't tell if he's asleep or waiting for me to leave. I had gone to bed late last night after reading the letters and had found the one from Cindy Mathew's tossed on the floor.

I change, tug my DX cap on and then sit beside him. I shake his shoulder. "Kiddo, I want to talk to you."

Silence.

"I know you're mad at us," I say. "I don't blame you. But Ponyboy, we only thought we were doing the right thing. Darry and I, well, we ain't got any rules for this. I'm sorry we kept it from you. We didn't want you to find out like this."

There's a muffled, "I know," and then with a groan, Pony shows his face. I smooth his messy hair back. He bites his lip. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Hey," I say, grinning. "I've been called worse."

He cocks a brow. "Yeah. I bet."

His right cheek is still pink. I touch it. "What happened here?"

"Nothing."

I put on the tough guy act. "If you don't tell me now, you'll tell me later. Take your choice."

With a sigh he sits up, shoving the blankets into a pile. "It ain't a big deal…stop pushing, Sodapop."

My jaw tightens. "Did something happen up at the house…? Did Thomas—"

"No!"

"Ponyboy..."

"I said something I shouldn't have…Rita, she…well…you know…she was upset. We both were…" Pony trails off, his face tired. "Don't tell Darry."

Goddamn her, I think, burning inside. I shake my head. "You know I have to."

"But Soda—"

"She shouldn't have done that Ponyboy. It's no excuse." I squeeze his shoulder, worried about him. "We'll be okay, kiddo."

He just nods.

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"I want to talk to you."

Pony's back bristles. He walks past me and goes to the fridge. He's wearing his running shoes, sweat on his brow, making me think he's been at the track all day blowing off steam. He grabs a Pepsi and shuts the door.

"Well, I don't want to talk to you."

Soda stops stirring the mashed potatoes we're having for dinner. A bottle of food coloring sits next to the stove. Green or blue, we'll find out soon enough.

I take a breath, try to stay calm. He's upset. It's understandable. "Soda told me about what happened at that house with Rita and I—"

Hurt, Pony frowns, says, "Of course he did. Because you two tell each other everything and no one wants to tell me anything."

I rub my eyes. I've carried more bundles of roofing today than I can count and it's already easier than talking to my youngest brother. "Damn it, Ponyboy, would you just listen to me?" I try to grab his arm and he pulls out of my grasp.

"Don't touch me," he says, his face going white, before he storms out of the room.

OoO

I'm being stubborn, I know that. Trying to hurt my brother's like they've hurt me. But I can't do it anymore. I don't agree with them but they were just trying to help.

I crawl out of bed, ready to go find Darry and apologize.

Steve's right; I've always been a brat.

OoO

I've tried calling Thomas Mercer all night. There's no answer. Good. Good riddance.

I'm in the recliner, letting myself sip a hard drink, still spitting fire over what Rita did, when he appears. It's late and he's in pajama pants and bare feet, his hair mussed.

"I'm sorry," Ponyboy whispers. "I shouldn't have acted like that."

I straighten the chair up. "It's my fault. I should've told you." I watch as he moves to sit on the couch, as close as we can get. "It's a lot to take in. I know you're upset."

He sticks his hands between his knees. "Do you want some dinner?" I ask. Pony shakes his head. I run a hand down my jaw. "You read the letters?"

"Yeah. You?"

"I did. I'm glad, Ponyboy. I'm real glad we know."

"I know, Darry. Me too." He coughs once into his hand. "So…what's going to happen now?"

With that question I see what he wants. It's on his face; Ponyboy wearing his emotions so open, something I've never been able to do. It relieves me that my youngest brother is so readable. But it also scares me something awful.

"Pony," I tell him. "It's okay. If you want to go see him, that's okay."

He looks confused, ready to cry. "But how come—"

"Because he isn't a threat. He can't take you away. That's why kiddo."

"Oh." He stands.

"Pony…" I rub my hands on my jeans, knowing I'm going to sound so much like our father right about now. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't think so," he says, a smile on his lips. "I think I get it."

OoO

A few more days pass and there's no word. No phone calls, not even a letter. I almost laugh at the thought.

My dad is my dad. I'm grateful. Relieved

Darry was right. Life does go back to normal. Except it's still odd for me. My brothers do their usual –work, worry. I could be working too but that's at the Cowboy's.

I miss him. I admit it. For nearly six months he was in my life and now he'll always be there, a memory I can't forget. Maybe it's stupid of me, but I can't help wondering if he's having an easy time forgetting me. Because he hasn't reached out, and that kind of hurts.

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"You want to tell me what you're doing in my backyard?"

Sitting on the bank, I tug my last boot on. Stick my DX cap on top of my wet hair. Thomas Mercer looks like shit. His eyes are bright red, there's a hell of a beard on his face, and a beer in his hand.

Grabbing the towel I brought along, I stand. "Came to get Ponyboy's lighter. It fell out of his pocket. No luck though."

I hate that I have to tell my brother this. But the pond was too murky and too big. I just couldn't find it. I'll admit, it was hard to come back here, where we nearly lost Ponyboy.

"Don't worry," I say, passing him by. "I won't be back." I can't help the smirk that crosses my face.

I'm about five feet away when The Cowboy says, "Guess you're pretty happy, ain't ya, kid? Got what you wanted. What you always wanted…"

"You know what?" I stop, walk back to him. "I am pretty goddamn happy. I'm happy that we don't have to deal with your shit anymore."

"I don't blame you," he says with a gruff laugh before I realize he's probably on his way to a pretty good buzz. He reeks of alcohol.

"I don't blame you one bit." Thomas Mercer takes a swig of his beer, points it at me like he's going to make a toast. "Get the hell off my property."

OoO

"Did you find it?"

"I didn't. I'm sorry, kiddo."

It kills me when his face falls, that look of hope vanishing. He turns back to making dinner. Sandwiches and soup.

"Did he—" Pony begins, "did he say anything about me?" He turns around when I don't say anything. "Well? Did he?"

"He didn't, Pone."

Pony nods once, coughs and places both hands on top of the counter like he's steadying himself.

I can't deny the irony of the situation. We've fought so long and hard, and now that Thomas Mercer should be out of our life once and for all, all I want him to do is to call my brother. Call Ponyboy and give the poor kid some peace of mind.

I can't be happy because my brother isn't.

OoO

"Taste."

Josie holds out a spoon and I lean in.

"Mmm, it's good."

"Liar." She swats me in the stomach with a spatula as I laugh. "I'm still making dinner for everyone, Darry Curtis. I'll make it and they'll like it."

"If they eat Soda's cooking," I say, leaning in the doorway. "They'll eat yours."

She grabs an apron, gives me the finger.

OoO

The house is loud. Darry and Josie's idea to have everyone over for a BBQ. My brothers trying to take my mind off of what happened only a week ago. But I can't help it. I still think about the Cowboy. It's like losing a second father-figure. And I know I should focus on myself but I wonder how he is. If he's hurt, angry, upset; or if he's fine with it.

Relieved, even.

The house is also hot. I fan my face; go out on the porch to have a smoke. There's a loud crash from inside, Soda's laughter and then Steve's sharp swearing.

They won't miss me for half an hour. I check my pockets for change for the bus and then I take off across the lawn.

OoO

"I think your brother just left," Josie announces, coming back from the living room.

"Aw, hell," Soda says, laying his cards down. I haven't seen him play a hand of poker in the house since the whole Budweiser fiasco. Steve looks up with dark eyes.

"He tends to do that," I tell her.

"Maybe he just went for a walk and a smoke," Soda says.

I give him a doubtful glance. "You know as well as I do where he went."

"Shit," Soda swears. "We need to chain that kid to the back porch."

"That'll take some explaining if the State comes around," Steve says, eyeing his cards.

Groaning, I open the fridge. Shut it.

I know this is something Pony needs to do but I can't shake the feeling that he's pushing. Trying to take care of everyone else except himself. Hiding because he's worried about me, Soda, the Cowboy—we haven't made it easy on him.

"If he's not back for dinner we'll go and get him."

Josie checks her watch.

Steve stands, mumbles something and then disappears into the hallway. Two minutes later the screen door ricochets shut.

OoO

"Thomas?" I shout. Stick a hand out as Goosey barrels towards me. I dip, scratching her furry face, resting my own against it. "Glory, I missed you," I tell her. She lets me hold onto her as I stand.

It was when I was on my way up here that I began to feel funny. Off somehow. The cough and the headaches and the dizziness I've been having lately all swirling into something I know will only end badly. But right now I don't care.

"Thomas?" I ask again, moving into the dimly lit living room. I kick a load of beer cans out of the way, spying the Cowboy in the leather chair. I turn on another light and he winces. He's grizzled and looks like he hasn't slept in days.

I wonder how long he's been like this.

"Shut that thing off," he snaps and I do. He eyes me close, suspicious-like. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." I wipe my sweaty brow. Try to stand straight. I cough and my throat's on fire.

"What do you want?"

"I wanted to see you. I was worried about you."

"Good news is you ain't gotta worry about me. Worry about yourself. You ain't gotta care."

"I still care." I want him to shout, to scream, anything other than sitting in that chair staring blankly at me.

"Bullshit. It's all bullshit." He lifts his hand, a glass of amber colored liquid enclosed. Takes a swig.

"No, it ain't."

"Yes, it is."

He's got his cowboy hat pulled tight and low. I can't see his eyes. He sits up and throws his drink on top of Goosey's back. The Labrador lets out a surprised yelp and cowers low, near my legs.

"None of this would have happened if it weren't for this stupid dog. If you hadn't got hurt. I should drive her up to Winston and leave her in the junkyard."

"Don't say that." I squat next to Goosey, the beer soaking her fur. I feel her shake. Feel myself.

"Why not? It's true. She's good for nothin'. You both are."

I squeeze my eyes shut. "Don't."

"I do. Your mama screwed me, kid. Get over it." He nods, as if deciding something. "You need to leave, Ponyboy."

I stand. "I'm not gonna leave. I want to talk—"

"Why talk?" he yells. He removes his hat and his eyes are still so much like mine. "It doesn't matter. You're not my son. It doesn't matter anymore."

"You're drunk." My eyes begin to burn. The room spins. "I know…I know I'm not your son. My mom was wrong but I still—I thought—"

"That what? That we could be friends?" He scoffs. "Don't you understand kid? I don't want nothing to do with you."

"Thomas—"

He throws his glass across the room. It hits the wall and shatters. I jump, take a step backward. I've never seen him this mean.

"Listen! I never did and I still don't want you! Do you got that? I don't want you. You were just a waste of my time. Get out of here Ponyboy. Just get the hell out."

Shaken, I grab his car keys off the table as I fly out of the house.

OoO

I'm in the Corvette, shakily trying to stick the keys in the ignition when the passenger door opens and Steve hops in. I gawk at him.

"Oh no, you don't, you little shit."

"Screw you, Steve."

He tries to grab the keys but I shoot him a quick elbow in the ribs. I jam the keys, gun the engine and peel away from Thomas Mercer's house.

I get about a mile before I start crying.

OoO

"Darry?" Josie's holding out the phone. She looks worried. "It's some drunk guy."

I grab it up, eyeing the clock. It's nearing six. "Two-Bit, you're late. I ain't in the mood for—"

"It's Thomas," a slurred, yet harried voice says. "I did something, said something I shouldn't have. Jesus, Darry, what'd I do..."

"Whoa, whoa." Putting up with a drunken Thomas Mercer is not something I want to do right now. "What's going on? What happened?"

"I told Ponyboy something I shouldn't have. I was wrong, so's he..."

I gesture at Soda who's headed down the hallway. He stops and makes a beeline for me. "What'd you say, Thomas? What'd you tell him?"

"I told him I never wanted him," he chokes out. "That he was a waste of time and good riddance."

"You goddamn asshole."

"He took my car, Darrel. He didn't look good."

I hang up on him and grab Sodapop.

OoO

"You gotta slow down, kid." Steve bangs both hands on the dash. "You gotta slow down right now."

The dial on the speedometer nears 100. The old country back roads are curvy and twisted. I drive fast toward the horizon, toward the setting sun, an orange ball dropping. I just keep thinking – he never cared, he never cared, he never cared…

Steve leans forward. "Please, kid, Jesus Christ. I don't want to be in another car accident."

I don't know where I'm going. I just need to escape, to drive and get the hell away from Thomas Mercer and this mess that's been my life.

"I'll pull over," I tell Steve. "You can get out."

"No way in hell." He locks his door, pulls his seatbelt on.

I wipe my eyes. "What're you doing here, Steve?"

"Figured it was up to someone to bring you home," he snaps. "You want to tell me what that prick said to you so the next time I see him I can kick his teeth in?"

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have gotten attached. I shouldn't have liked him. I should have stayed away and…" I shake my head.

"Damn it, no it ain't," he says, shooting me a dark glance. "Shit Pony, that's Dally talking if I ever heard it and you know as well as I do that Dallas Winston never— Christ almighty!" he swears, "Slow it down!"

Steve shifts in his seat, scowling, as I let up on the gas.

"Dally never got anywhere by not caring. Hell, we both saw it firsthand, Ponyboy." Steve's face contorts into a pained grimace at the memory. "So listen, when I say it ain't your fault, it ain't your fault. You've been through a lot."

I give him a suspicious glare. "Why're you being nice to me?"

"I'm not. Christ, I'm just trying to be fuckin honest."

I swerve around a sharp bend and this time Steve lets out an excited shout. "Shit, Ponyboy, you took that like a pro!"

OoO

We're about 20 minutes into the drive before the world starts swaying before my eyes. "Whoa!" Steve grips the wheel as the car swerves onto the shoulder and rights it back on the road. "You okay, kid?"

"I feel sick," I say. Headlights are passing me by in white blurs. I tighten my grip on the wheel. "You think it's hot in here?"

Steve's voice turns soft as I start coughing. "Cool it, Ponyboy, slow it down."

OoO

"Darry!" I holler as the red Corvette pulls up to the curb. My older brother nearly flies through the screen door before remembering to open it. Two-Bit, who's arrived right after the phone call, and Josie follow us down the porch.

I'm already at the car. Steve's in the passenger seat, Pony in the driver's. "Hey Sodapop," Steve says. "Fancy meeting you here."

He lifts a dark brow, tilting his head ever so slightly to my brother to tell me something's wrong. My eyes move to Pony, his hands still on the wheel. "Hey Pony. Stole a car tonight, huh? I'm proud of you."

Pony's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Soda, I don't feel good."

"I know you don't kiddo."

Steve cracks his door and I'm moving around to the other side. I reach through the rolled-down window and touch my brother's flushed face. He's hot enough to fucking cook off of.

"Come on," I say. "Come on out."

Slowly, very slowly, Ponyboy does. He stands for maybe a full five seconds before collapsing completely. Josie's scream shatters the muggy summer air.

OoO

As always, pardon any typos.

Thank you for the reviews. Thank you for reading! I love them both. Keep it up.

Eeee, last chapter soon.

XO,

Feisty