A/N: Well, that was obnoxious of me, to tell you to skip ahead if you didn't want to read the last chapter and then not post this one. Sorry about that.

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I woke up half naked under my covers. It was still dark, and silent. I felt pain, everywhere. I remembered what had happened, and I rolled over in bed, retching violently into the wastebasket Ben had left for me. I tried to sit up but hardly could. I felt dirty, bloody. I couldn't stay in that bed, where Steve had tried to… oh, God. Steve. Soda's best friend. Soda had lost Sandy, and Dally and Johnny…Mom and Dad… I knew my brothers would kill Steve if they knew about this. If I told I would take away yet another person my brother loved. Steve had been so drunk… maybe he wouldn't even remember? Did he know what he did? Why had this even happened? I sobbed silently. What the hell was I going to do? I breathed in deep against the pain, reached down for my t-shirt, and pulled it on against the throbbing in my back and arms. Nobody can know the truth about this, I decided, as I fell across the gap between my bed and the spare. I crawled up onto the other bed, lay my head down on the pillow, breathed in against the pain, and cried myself back to sleep.

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"Scout?" Someone was calling me in my dream. But in my dream I couldn't open my mouth to answer.

"Scout?" Louder now. It was Ben talking to me in the dream, but he sounded more like Soda.

I heard the squeak of a hinge and then silence.

"What the hell? Scout?"

It wasn't a dream. It really was Soda, suddenly with his hands on me, shaking me awake. Instinctively I pushed him away and shrunk toward the wall.

Our eyes met. His were wide with disbelief.

"Oh my God, Scout. What happened to you? Who did this to you?"

Darry appeared behind him in the doorway and in a split second I saw his expression change from curiosity to pure horror.

"What the hell?" He ran to my bed and knelt next to Soda.

I could only imagine what I looked like.

"Soda, get some ice." I wondered which of my pains that was supposed to help. Darry reached out and tried to take my hand but I had tucked myself into a ball under the sheet at the corner of the bed and the wall. I remembered, then, Darry and Pony had come home. If they hadn't come home right then… I shuddered. Thank God they came home.

Darry was frantically looking around the room and back at me. The sheets on my usual bed were bloody, my body was bruised and bloody, and there was a wastebasket full of vomit on the floor. I couldn't imagine what he was thinking.

Darry looked at me with sheer violence in his eyes. "Who?" he demanded. "Who, Scout? What son of a bitch did this to you?"

I closed my eyes and buried my head, shaking my head no. Tears soaked the front of my shirt. Make this all go away, I begged. Please. Please just make this be a nightmare.

Darry put his hand on my chin and raised my head. I flinched at the touch, opened my eyes, and I saw sadness in his eyes. I was rocking back and forth, trying to will away the fear and pain. I closed my eyes again. This was easier in the dark.

"Who in the hell did this to you, Scout?" This was one of those times when he was yelling, but I knew he wasn't angry with me.

Pony appeared in the doorway just as Soda came in with just about every medical supply we had in the house.

"Holy shit." Pony's jaw dropped.

"Scout! Answer me!" Again, I knew Darry wasn't yelling because he was mad at me but I just couldn't seem to open my mouth to answer. My lips were swollen and cut, and my whole face felt bruised.

"I…don't know," I finally managed between tears.

"You don't know? For Christ's sake, Samantha, tell me! Who?"

It was shocking to hear him call me by my given name. Nobody in my family had called me Samantha since Mom died. Both Soda and Pony noticeably reacted. Then they both looked at me, which only made me cry harder.

"I don't know, Darry. I swear. I couldn't see him. It was dark. I don't know." I sobbed while trying to convince myself it was true. Every time I closed my eyes all I saw was Steve's face, felt his hands on me… I just rocked back and forth and pulled the covers tighter. Meanwhile Soda was setting up a veritable hospital on the other bed.

Darry was losing it. He stood up and slammed his fist into my wall, then sat down on the bed and reached out as though he wanted to comfort me. Remembering how I had flinched the last time he tried to touch me, he stood back up again and turned to my brothers, then to me.

"When? When, Scout?"

"Last night," I said, barely managing a whisper. "I went to bed and then… someone was in here."

"This happened here? In the house?" Darry frantically looked around and glared at the open window. I realized then that he had no idea yet about the extent of what had happened to me. He had been thinking that I just got jumped somewhere and came home hurt.

"Someone came in the window to beat you up? Jesus, Scout!" He spun around and stared at Soda.

"Soda, how the hell did this happen? You were supposed to be in charge here. I left you in charge! Where the hell were you? You didn't hear anything?" Darry was beside himself with anger now.

Soda looked like he had just been sentenced to death. His guilty conscience showed on his face.

"I … I went out with Steve and Two-Bit." Immediately he started bawling. "It's my fault. Darry, it's my fault. I left. I left her. I didn't even check on her when I got home. It's my fault!" Soda was inconsolable. "I'm sorry Scout. I'm so sorry."

"No!" I said. "No, Soda, you had nothing to do with this. It isn't your fault. Please don't cry, please, stop crying. You're scaring me even more." I turned to Darry. "Darry, I told Soda to go out for his birthday. I went over to Ben's and I was home before Soda got home. I was fine when he got home. I heard him come in. Darry, please, it wasn't Soda's fault. Soda, come here." Soda came over to my bed, looking at me like he had actually been the one to hurt me.

"No, Soda," I said. "Stop. It's not your fault." I tried to hug him but as he tried to put his arms around me he touched the spot on my back where I had been thrown against the lightswitch. I yelped in pain.

Soda jumped back up. "What? Scout, I'm sorry!"

"Nothing, just, my back."

Darry lifted up the back of my shirt. "Jesus." Now he looked sick. It must have looked pretty bad.

"Who was it, Scout? Tell us." Ponyboy suddenly spoke up and I felt like if I had named a name he would have personally torn him to pieces. Pony was actually the calmest of all of us at the moment. I have to give him credit, he can be a rock sometimes in a stressful situation.

I looked up at him. "I swear, Pony, I don't know. I don't know. He came in the dark. Maybe he was already here when I came in. Maybe he was waiting." I hated lying to them. I hated all of this. I hated this situation even more than I hated Steve himself. And I really hated him.

"So help me, Scout, if you are covering for someone…" That was Darry.

"I'm not." I tried not to look him in the face as I lied outright. "Why would I, Darry? I'm not." The more I thought about it, I really wasn't protecting Steve at all, I was actually protecting Soda from being hurt again. I would have thrown Steve to the wolves in a second if Soda hadn't been involved. I didn't want the be the one costing Soda his best friend. I remembered his drunken voice last night saying that Steve was all he had left. I didn't want to be the one to take that away. I shook my head to get the thought of Steve out of it.

Darry was looking at my bandaged shin. This was not an unfamiliar injury to anyone in our family, we all had scratches from that damned fence. Darry's gaze shifted to Ben's jacket on the floor and I actually watched him jump to a conclusion that was too terrible to allow.

"Scout, did Ben do this to you?" He was still staring at the jacket as he asked the question. His voice was calm but there was anger beneath, threatening to take over at any time.

"No. No, Darry. No!" I was horrified with him thinking it had been Ben. Darry turned to me and I continued.

"I was at his house earlier but I came home. He gave me his jacket because I was cold, and I cut myself on the fence. Ben wouldn't hurt me. Please Darry, don't even think it. Please. It wasn't Ben. I swear it. No."

My brothers looked at each other. Apparently they felt the evidence told otherwise. How can they even think that? I wondered. They know Ben. But, then I remembered, they all know Steve, too.

"Ponyboy, go get Ben and bring him here."

"He didn't lay a hand on me Darry," I said, immediately remembering that we actually had laid our hands on each other. It felt like that had been a different person, just last night, with Ben. His hand on my waist… I realized that Steve had changed things for me, that now the thought of anyone's hands on me or lips on my own made me feel sick. "He didn't do it."

Darry had begun gingerly touching my injuries and trying to clean up what he could with the supplies Soda had gathered. I was shocked by the amount of blood he was wiping off my face and neck. I winced again and again as he touched new cuts and bruises.

"Soda, could you get me some water?" I was thirsty. I realized that, on top of everything else, I was hung over.

He jumped up right away. "I'll get it," he said. Darry asked him to boil some water too. "We gotta clean these cuts out," he said. "Or they're gonna get infected." I thought back to my infected leg and wished that thought away immediately.

"OK, Dar," he said as he left.

"Darry was looking at the cut the knife had made in my neck. I could tell that it had bled a lot, I could feel the blood dried up all the way down to my collar.

"He had a blade?" Darry asked, though he already knew.

I nodded.

"Jesus, Scout… what the hell did he want?" he asked. I was right. He thought this was just someone trying to scare us by beating me up, sending the Greasers a message. Getting back at one of our gang or one of the neighborhood gangs for something they did. Just payback. He hadn't made that reach yet. I considered playing along but I knew as soon as he saw the bruises on my thighs, he would figure it out. Nobody causes bruises on a girl there unless they are after something in particular.

I looked at him, tears still coming. "Me." I whispered.

"What?" he looked confused. I was crying and I reached out my hand to pull him in to me. I had no idea how he would react towards me after this news.

"He wanted me," I whispered in his ear. "He…"

"What, Scout?" he still didn't get it.

"He was trying to…make me… Darry." I couldn't say it, but I saw him notice the bite on my neck and he got it.

His reaction was immediate. He jumped up so fast that I fell backward and yelled out again with the pain of my back injury. It was excruciating to make any sudden movement.

"No!" Darry was crazed. "No, Scout. No. Please tell me you're kidding me. Please."

"He didn't , Darry," I said, crying softly. "He didn't. You came home and I tried to yell for you and he hit me. Then he must have left. But he didn't… do it."

Soda came sprinting back into the room, assuming I had revealed a name. "Who, Darry? Who was it?"

Darry was now sitting on my bed, looking at me on the spare. He looked like he was about to start crying and just kept shaking his head. "No."

"Darry, stop. It's not your fault. None of it is your fault. Darry!" I was yelling at him through tears. "Please, you guys have to stop acting like this! I'm already scared to death. Please stop."

"Jesus Christ," Darry looked a hundred years old. I wished more than anything in the world that this hadn't happened, but even more I wished Darry didn't have to know about it.

Soda was completely confused. "What, Darry? Who was it? Was it someone we know?"

If only you knew, I thought.

Soda looked at me questioningly. I figured I might as well fess up. Everyone would know eventually. I guess I preferred to tell them one at a time.

I hung my head. "I don't know who, I swear. But they were trying… it was…"

"He tried to rape her, Soda," Darry said. I hung my head. "He would have, if I hadn't o'come home."

Soda's expression of confusion crumbled before my eyes and turned to a combination of extreme concern and pure rage. I could see him weighing the two and deciding that at the moment extreme concern took precedence, at least until he had a target for his pure rage. He ran to the bed, sat down, and, remembering how he had accidentally hurt me last time, tenderly placed his hands on my shoulders. He looked at me and I saw him notice what he'd know had to be bite marks on my neck. He touched them carefully.

"Oh God, Scout." He pulled me to him. I wanted to pull away, but I reminded myself - This is Soda. You love him and he would never, ever hurt you. I realized that it was difficult to trust even my own brothers to touch me now – and felt that I might never be comfortable with anyone else's hands on me again. "I'm so sorry, baby. Oh God, Scout." I swallowed my fears and let Soda pull me close. "I'm so sorry. Scout, I'm so sorry. I should have been here."

I pushed him back so I could look at him. "Stop it, Soda. It wasn't your fault."

"It was. I went out and got so damned drunk I couldn't even hear what was happening to you. Did you call me? Did you? Did you yell for me?"

I was already lying so much I figured it wouldn't hurt to say no. But he had already figured my hesitation for a yes.

"Oh, God." Soda looked like he was in as much pain as I was.

"You came home trashed?" This was new information for Darry. He looked lividly toward Soda.

"Darry, this is not Soda's fault," I intervened. "Soda couldn't have done anything anyway. The guy was way stronger than him." It was true, Steve was stronger than Soda, but that comment unintentionally seemed to make Soda feel bad for not being stronger, and Darry, the strongest, feel bad for not being home.

I couldn't believe what a mess this was, and somehow I just seemed to be making it worse. For Christ's sake, I was the one who got hurt, I was scared as hell and hurting all over, and now my brothers were fighting over it, to boot. All of a sudden I remembered the second part of what Two-Bit had told me about drinking, after the rodeo. "It just make things seem easier," he had said, "except when shit like last night happens."

I guess I had hit on the exception on my first try.

Not even a minute later, things got even worse. Pony appeared with a very concerned looking Ben in the doorway.

"Scout!" he cried when he saw me, and started toward the bed. "Oh my God!" Darry headed him off and unnecessarily roughly pinned him against the wall. I clenched my eyes shut as I remembered Steve doing the same to me the night before.

"Let him go Darry!" I yelled, trying to get off the bed to help but underestimating the pain it would cause to my back and instead nearly falling to the floor had it not been for Soda catching me. He placed me back up on the bed. "Scout, relax, you're making it worse" Soda said, as he tried to settle me down.

"What happened to her?" Ben yelled as Darry had him pinned. "Scout?" What happened? What happened to you?"

"Somebody attacked her and tried to rape her, and if it was you I swear to God I'll kill you!" Darry said in a surprisingly calm but thoroughly threatening voice.

Pony and Ben reacted simultaneously. "What?" they both yelled, as their color faded and their expressions turned to disgust.

"Darry!" I begged. "Let him go!"

Everyone was looking at me.

"Let him go, Darry. It wasn't Ben. Please, Darry. Please. He had nothing to do with it." Darry released his grip on him and he ran to the bed and grabbed my hand, taking stock of my injuries. "Oh my God", he said. "I should never have left you." He covered his mouth. "Oh God Scout, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I couldn't take it anymore. "Stop it, all of you!" I yelled. "Just Stop. Right Now. Stop telling me how fucking sorry you all are! I can't take it."

Everyone looked at me. I wasn't sure whether it was because I had yelled or because of my language- that was a curse word I didn't normally throw around in the company of my brothers.

"What are you talking about?" Soda asked.

"Stop blaming yourselves. This is my fault. Mine. I'm a mess enough, I can't keep reassuring all of you. Please stop trying to blame yourselves. I don't need you all feeling sorry for yourselves for thinking you did something wrong, You didn't do anything. This was my fault."

"No, Scout," Darry said. "This was absolutely not your fault."

"Yes, it was. I was drinking last night, too, Darry. I was drunk."

"What?" Darry spoke the words, but Soda looked at me and I could tell he was just as shocked. Pony just looked like he was completely fascinated by all the drama going on, and seemed pretty pleased that none of it had to do with him. I remember thinking the night before that I didn't care if I got in trouble… never in a million years could I have imagined just how much trouble my drinking could have caused.

"I chose it. I chose it Darry. I wanted to try it, so I told Soda to go out with Two-Bit, and I went over and drank with Ben on his porch." Nobody seemed to notice that I had avoided mentioning Steve.

Darry and Soda both glared at Ben. "I'm so sorry." Ben hung his head. He continued… "She was determined to try it and I just didn't want her to go off and drink somewhere else. I figured if she was with me at least I could look out for her."

I was sickened to hear Ben having to defend himself against what I had wanted to do.

"Darry, stop looking at Ben like he did anything wrong. He did look out for me. And Ben, you have nothing to be sorry for. It was my idea and my fault. I drank too much and got sick and Ben brought me home and helped me to bed. He fixed up my leg that I cut on the fence and helped me brush my teeth and left that bucket there for me that I got sick in." I motioned.

"Gross." Pony said.

"Shut it, Pony," Darry said. " Take it out and don't come back in here."

"Why?" Pony asked.

"Do it. Because I said so." Darry meant business. Pony shrugged, unenthusiastically picked up the bucket and left the room. Minutes later I heard the toilet flush and the tub start running.

"Ben, I'm going to be very honest with you and give you every chance to come clean with me right now. I find it very peculiar that you are the only one who knew my sister was drunk in bed on the same night she claims that she was almost raped by a stranger." Darry's voice was stone cold, unwavering. "I promise you if you did this, and you lie to me right now I'll fucking kill you."

"Stop it Darry," I interrupted him. "Stop it right now. I am telling you, Ben did not do this. He even offered to stay with me and I told him to go. This is not your fault or Pony's fault for being gone. It isn't Soda's fault for going out when I told him to, especially since I already had a plan to drink at Ben's house. And it isn't Ben's fault, because I was the one who wanted to drink and he made sure to stay with me and make sure I was okay. This is my fault and nobody else's." I was sobbing at this point. "I was drunk and someone came in to hurt me and I couldn't even fight back because of it. I practically deserved it for being so stupid."

Everyone looked at me, speechless.

Ben exploded. "There is no way in hell that you deserved this Scout. I should have stayed here with you." He was pacing with what appeared to be rage.

Darry was more methodical in convincing me. He was staring down at me. "Scout, " he said, "Look at your wrists."

I looked at them. They were bruised, all the way around, from the base of my thumbs to the middle of my forearm.

"He held you down, didn't he?"

I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands, remembering. I felt Soda and Ben's hands on my shoulders. I nodded.

"Scout, you are tough enough for a girl, but there is no way you could fight off a strong guy, whether you had been drinking or not. You didn't deserve this. Whoever did this to you is sick. He had no business hurting you. You did nothing wrong."

Look at me, Scout," Darry insisted.

I looked up but was still crying so hard I could hardly even see him.

"This wasn't your fault. You hear me?"

"Yeah," I whispered. Ben had sat down on the bed and was wiping my tears with the sheet. Even that hurt a little, and I wondered what my face looked like. Finally, I said, quietly,

"I'm really sorry Darry. About the drinking."

He sighed. "We'll talk about that another time. For now, we need to take care of you, you're hurt. How did he hurt your back?" Darry barely touched it and I tensed in agony. He lifted my shirt again and I heard Ben. "Oh my God."

I turned and lay facedown on the bed. "The wall. He threw me up against the light switch. I heard it break."

"In here?"

"I think." I lied. I knew it had been the living room light switch. I figured I could make something else up. Soda walked over to the door.

"It's not broken," he said.

"Maybe it's the living room? He pushed me around a little."

Soda checked. "Nope."

With horror I realized it must have been my own ribs that I had heard cracking. I groaned.

"What?" Darry asked.

"It must have been my ribs cracking that I heard. That explains it. It hurt so much I couldn't even breathe when it happened. It still hurts like hell."

"Jesus…" Darry said.

"Do you want me to get my Mom?" Ben asked. It had been pretty handy at times to have an Emergency Room nurse in the neighborhood. "She'll know what to do."

I could see Darry hesitating. He hated to get outsiders involved in our family problems. But I was hurt, and if we could avoid another trip to the hospital, it would help financially and hopefully keep Social Services out of it, too. And we all trusted Ben's Mom.

"Would you mind?" Darry swallowed his pride.

"I'll be right back," Ben gave me a concerned look as he turned and went out the door.

Oh, how I cared for that boy, but I feared I might never want to kiss anyone again.

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A/N: It's just not easy to know what the right thing to do is when you're twelve.