And Again

The nurses didn't want them to go in and see Johnny, but for the first time since he'd realized he was somehow doing all of this for the second time, Ponyboy felt alive…like he wasn't just reciting words or something. It probably helped that those Aspirin were finally kicking in. He begged right along with Two-Bit, who wasn't about to take no for an answer, until a doctor came by, giving them both a pitying look.

"Let them go in," he told the nurse. "He's been asking for them. It can't hurt now."

It did though…it hurt like nothing else and somehow the fact that he was doing all this for a second time didn't make it any better. Two-Bit didn't seem to notice his words, though…instead he headed straight for Johnny's room, the two of them tiptoeing inside like they were afraid of waking him.

Once more, Johnny was laying real still in his hospital bed, eyes closed. A tube went from under his nose, around his head, and up to the machine beside him, and more wires went from his chest to another machine. Pony didn't know what any of it was, but one of them was beeping. The nurse that followed them inside and opened the shade didn't seem worried about it, so he figured it must be okay. Besides, Johnny had a few more hours, didn't he? That rumble wouldn't be over until around 7:30 or 8, and it had taken a while to drive to the hospital…Johnny had died just a few minutes after they'd gotten there. So Pony figured they had at least until 11 or so.

"Hey, Johnnykid," Two greeted, grinning at their friend like nothing in the world could ever go wrong…like he wasn't going to die soon. But he was. Pony knew it. The doctors knew it. Surely Two-Bit had to know it too.

"Hey guys."

"They treating you okay, kid?"

"Won't let me put enough grease in my hair."

Pony stared out the window for a minute while Two-Bit told him not to talk, watching clouds drift by as he tried not to remember his best friend dying in this same bed the night before…tried not to remember it was going to happen again. It didn't make sense! None of this made sense! Sure, he'd asked to fix what he'd done, but he couldn't fix it after Johnny got hurt! He wasn't a doctor…he didn't know how to help his friend! And nobody would believe him if he told them what was going on! Two would think he was joking. Steve would think he was nuts. Dally…hell, he didn't even want to think about how Dally would act. He remembered how he'd been after Johnny had died the night before. This sure wasn't the time to make Dally think he was messing around.

"Pony?"

Pulled abruptly from his thoughts, Ponyboy turned to Two-Bit and Johnny who were both staring at him.

"The book," Johnny said like he was repeating himself, voice so weak and barely there it was hard to hear. "Can you get another one?"

It didn't matter. They wouldn't have any time to read it. Still, he nodded. At least this would get Two-Bit out of the room so they could talk. "He wants a copy of Gone with the Wind," he told Two-Bit. "Could you get one? From the drug store?"

"Sure. Don't y'all run off."

Pony couldn't even bring himself to smile as Two-Bit hurried off…couldn't do anything but stare at his best friend, eyes hot…his best friend who had already died in front of him once, and who was going to do it again real soon.

"Pony?" Johnny asked, and he hated that he was worrying his friend at a time like this…but he had to know.

"Do you remember what happened yesterday?" Pony finally made himself ask, voice faltering a little. Johnny just stared at him for a second, looking confused. He only had a few minutes before Johnny's mother showed up…they needed to have this talk fast.

"Sure. Most of it." When Ponyboy was quiet, he went on in that weak, faltering voice like he couldn't breathe right. "Dal took us out and we got Dairy Queen. Then we got back to the church and it was on fire."

The weight of what was happening seemed to crash down on him then, pinning him to his seat as his eyes heated up. No one else remembered, not even Johnny. It was just him. But how? How could this be happening? Was it even real? His head felt a little better but it was still pounding and he just wanted to find a free bed somewhere close and crawl into it and sleep until this was over.

What if he was crazy? Did crazy people hallucinate stuff like this? Or maybe…maybe he'd been right before. Maybe he was in the hospital himself, asleep or unconscious after what had happened to Dally. But how did he make it stop?

And what if it was still happening when he woke up?

Pony shook that thought off, not even willing to think about it. It wouldn't happen again. Things like this didn't happen in real life. He'd go to sleep that night, or collapse in the street again, and then he'd wake up and it would be the next day, and things would go back to normal, even if the whole gang, or what was left of it, and his brothers hated him for what he'd done, and even if he could never forgive himself for any of it.

When Ponyboy looked up at his friend again, he was real pale, eyes closed, and he had to close his own eyes to keep the tears from falling. It wasn't fair! Johnny didn't deserve to die! He'd been Pony's best friend and he'd gotten hurt saving those kids! And that was Pony's fault! He shouldn't have to die because something Pony had done! He'd never even left their neighborhood before they'd gone to that church! He was just a kid! Just a kid that hadn't even started living yet!

"Johnny," he whispered, trying real hard not to cry so he didn't scare his friend. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it just hurts sometimes. It usually don't…I can't feel anything below the middle of my back."

"I'm sorry."

Johnny shook his head, looking like he was trying to smile. "You ain't gotta look like that, Pone. It wasn't your…"

"Yeah it was. It was my fault. All of this." A tear fell then and he hurried to dash it away. "I fought with Darry and…and I was the one that wanted to go to the park. I ran back into that church. It's my fault, Johnny. And you…you can't…" Another tear fell and wiped roughly at his face, hoping Johnny didn't notice even though his friend was looking right at him, sad and scared just like Pony was. "We can't get along without you, Johnny. We just can't!" DId any of it matter, he wondered then. Did his words make any difference?

"I'm scared stiff, you know that?" Johnny asked then, voice going tight. "I used to talk about killing myself, but I don't want to die now! It ain't long enough…sixteen years ain't long enough. I wouldn't mind it so much if there wasn't so much stuff I ain't done yet and so many things I ain't seen. It's not fair."

Pony grabbed his hand, squeezing hard and hoping he wasn't hurting him. "I know. It ain't. It ain't fair." He wanted to tell Johnny he wasn't going to die, like before, but he couldn't…he couldn't make himself lie to his best friend. Not now. Still, he didn't want to have to leave just yet. "You've gotta calm down…they'll kick us out if you get all worked up."

He was going to get kicked out anyway, he knew. Johnny's mom was about to show up before Two-Bit could even come back with the book and that last look Two had thrown over his shoulder would be the last time he ever saw Johnny Cade. Darry and Soda wouldn't even see him that day…Steve neither. He'd die before they could even visit and it was all his fault. He stared at his friend who lay with his eyes closed, breathing steadily like everything was okay when it wasn't…when he was going to die again and there didn't seem to be anything Ponyboy could do to stop it.

Then the nurse appeared in the doorway and Pony wanted to tackle her…to shove her out of the room and beg her not to tell Johnny that his mother was there because that was the thing that would set him of and that was the reason Pony would have to leave and he didn't want to leave…he wanted to stay right here, gripping his friend's hand, until the stupid rumble was over…until he died again.

Only he didn't know if he could stand to see him die again.

"Johnny, your mother's here to see you."

His friend opened his eyes with that same mix of surprise and anger. "I don't want to see her."

"Make her go away," Pony put in, making himself speak, wishing he could help just a little…keep Johnny from getting so worked up that he passed out. It didn't work though…the nurse went on, same as before.

"She's your mother."

"I said I don't want to see her. She's probably come to tell me about all the trouble I'm causing her and how glad her and the old man'll be when I'm dead. Well, tell her to leave me alone! For once…for once just to leave me alone!" He tried to sit up and there was nothing Pony could do…no way to stop him from passing out cold just like he couldn't stop him from dying later that day.

He didn't pay attention to the nurse's words as she ushered him out the door…barely noticed when Two-Bit showed up and handed the book to the nurse. But he did hear Two's next words. "I wish it was any one of us except Johnny. We could get along with anyone but Johnny."

Pony wished suddenly that it was him in that bed and not Johnny. The thought took hold then, gripping him tight and not letting go. It would be okay if it were him! Two had just said so! They could all get along without Pony! He'd known that for a long time. So why couldn't he go back a little further? Just a day? Why couldn't it be him that had gotten crushed under that beam and not Johnny!

"It was your fault!"

Hearing his own thoughts parroted back to him made Pony jump in surprise, but that familiar look of hatred from Johnny's mother didn't take him aback this time…heck, he hated himself too. Still, he couldn't help wincing. "Always running around in the middle of the night, getting jailed and who knows what else!"

Fighting with his brother. Getting jumped by socs. She was right…he'd started all of it.

And now that he'd been given a chance to fix it, he couldn't even figure out how to do it.

He hadn't even really considered the fact that Dallas might also be reliving the same day, so although it crossed his mind the second before they walked into his hospital room, his hopes were dashed as soon as they appeared. Dally would never be able to keep his mouth shut about something like that, and when he looked up at Pony and Two-Bit, his expression was the same as it had been the day before.

"Man, am I glad to see you! These hospital people won't let me smoke and I want out!"

Pony sighed as he sat beside Two-Bit, feeling his friend's eyes on him when he just stared at the ground. Dally told them what he already knew…that Tim Shephard had stopped by to see him, then turned to Pony who could barely make himself meet Dally's eyes.

"Kid, you scared the devil out of me the other day. I thought I'd killed you."

Ponyboy couldn't help but wonder, if Dally hadn't stopped to help him, would he have gotten to Johnny in time? "Yeah?" he asked lamely, knowing that wasn't what he'd said before, but he couldn't really remember what he'd said before anyway…maybe he'd just asked why. Either way, Dally went on.

"I was just trying to hit you hard enough to knock you down and put that fire out. I thought I aimed too high and broke your neck." Once more, he thought for a second. "I'm glad I didn't though."

He nodded. It didn't matter. Dally would be dead shortly after Johnny. Was this the last conversation they ever had? The last real one? Dally had been ranting and raving later that night when he'd driven him to the hospital and Pony had been feeling even worse than before, barely able to understand any of it. So yeah, he realized…this was it. The last conversation he'd ever have with Dallas Winston. He'd always been scared of Dally before…hadn't really liked him much. He'd certainly never considered him a friend. All of a sudden, though, he wished they were friends. He wished he could tell Dally that just because Johnny was going to die didn't mean he had to…that he could keep living and be okay. That he didn't have to get himself gunned down in the middle of the street. But Dally would think he was nuts. Two-Bit too.

"Hey!"

Pony blinked, looking up at Dally with wide eyes.

"The hell's the matter with you?" Dally demanded, looking almost concerned. When Ponyboy couldn't think of an answer fast enough, he turned to Two-Bit.

"We just saw Johnny," Two told him, like that was some kind of explanation.

Dallas sat back, trying and failing to look indifferent. "Yeah? How's the kid?"

Hesitating a moment, Two-Bit shook his head. "I don't know about stuff like this but…well…he seemed pretty bad to me. He passed out cold before we left him."

Pony watched Dally's eyes turn wild, glittering with fury. He couldn't live without Johnny. Hadn't he already seen proof of that? He watched as Two-Bit handed over his precious black handled switch and wondered if he'd ever get it back. Dally insisted they'd win that rumble for Johnny, but what the hell did Johnny care about a rumble after he was dead?

He was grateful that Two-Bit wanted to take a bus home. He didn't think he could walk all the way back, and once more, Two-Bit left him on the bench while he went to get cigarettes. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head into his hands, glad for Dally's jacket as the wind blew and the clouds covered the sun. He wanted to go home. He wanted to lay down and close his eyes and wait for it to be over. He had no idea why he'd had to do all of this twice, but surely that was it, right? He couldn't save Johnny and he couldn't save Dally and he didn't know why this was happening! He'd wanted to fix his mistake but he couldn't do that when Johnny was already hurt!

"One more day," he whispered, wishing whoever had done this to him could hear. "Just one more day…" If he could go back one more day, somehow, he could save Johnny and Dally! He could make sure neither of them dropped a cigarette before they went to eat with Dally! Then Johnny would turn himself in and that would suck but maybe they'd let him off for self defense but either way, Pony would be home with Darry and Soda and no one would be dead because of him!

Pony didn't even know Two-Bit was back until a cool hand pressed to his forehead and he practically jumped out of his skin. "You okay? You're awfully hot."

No. He wasn't okay. He wasn't even close to okay! But there was nothing Two-Bit could do about it and besides, he wouldn't believe him even if he explained. "Yeah. I'm fine," he muttered, closing his eyes again. "I'll take some Aspirin when I get home. Be a pal and don't tell Darry or Soda?" It was only after he said the words that he realized he didn't actually care that much if Two-Bit told them…Pony already knew what happened in the rumble. He got his ass kicked, then watched his best friend die. Then he watched Dally die. It wasn't exactly something he was itching to repeat. Still, he hated to worry Darry or Soda, and besides, some tiny part of him still hoped that things might go differently. He'd done a few things different…would that be enough to change anything?

"All right," Two-Bit agreed as the bus pulled to a stop in front of them, handing Pony some money for the bus. "But Darry'll kill me if you're sick and you go ahead and fight anyway."

He didn't argue…just climbed the steps to the bus, dropping the coin into the machine, then headed to the back to sit down. The day before, he'd felt a growing dread as they'd ridden the bus back to their side of town, sure that something awful was going to happen. Now he knew it was…knew exactly what was going to happen, but he couldn't think of a single way to stop it. Even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't explain this to anyone…they'd all think he'd lost it.

Maybe he had.

Unlike last time, Two-Bit was real quiet as they rode the bus across town. He knew his friend was worried and figured it was 50/50 on him telling Darry. There was nothing he could do about that…no really. He just wanted this day to be over, and he guessed that if Darry ordered him to bed, at least it would be over faster. But he wouldn't get to see Johnny again…Dally either. That afternoon at the hospital would be the last time he ever got to see them again.

Unless he had to do it all again.

Just the thought made him shudder.

Cherry Valence was parked in the lot once more, but Pony couldn't even make himself look at her as Two-Bit slowed down. She wouldn't go see Johnny, even though her boyfriend had been the one to start all this. Sure she was spying for them, and yeah, she was real pretty, but he couldn't help feeling stupid for even thinking he had any kind of chance with her. Her car was still real tuff, though.

"Hi, Ponyboy. Hey, Two-Bit."

Pony nodded his hello, hoping neither of them noticed he wasn't looking at her.

"What's up with the big times?" Two-Bit asked, and Pony decided he could just keep walking. He'd done all this already, and he wasn't really interested in having this conversation again.

"They play your way. No weapons, fair deal. Your rules." She hesitated, but by then, Pony was almost past the lot. "Ponyboy!" she called, but he didn't stop.

"I gotta head home. See you around."

He'd been late for dinner the day before, just like he usually was. He had a habit of losing track of time…of wandering around town or opening a book and then remembering with a start that he needed to get home before Darry got mad, but by the time he usually remembered that, it was too late more often than not. This time, he was home just before six, and he could smell the chicken baking. Just the thought of food turned his stomach, but he doubted he'd be able to get out of eating without Darry noticing, so he dropped onto the sofa next to Sodapop, leaning his head against the back of the couch. The TV wasn't real loud, but it still made his head pound, and he closed his eyes, wondering if maybe he could sleep through the rest.

He didn't need to see it…not again. Not ever. It was already burned into his brain.

Beside him, Soda was quiet for a minute, but Pony felt him sit up, and figured he was pulling his hat up off his face to look at him. Pony didn't want him to ask what was wrong…if he was okay. He wasn't. That headache was getting worse and he knew he needed to get up and take more Aspirin but he couldn't make himself actually do it.

"Pony?"

"Yeah?" he muttered, wishing he could go to bed…wishing this godawful nightmare would finally end.

"How's Johnny?"

Pony had to fight hard not to let his eyes heat up too much…not to start bawling right there. He didn't want Soda to freak out and he didn't want the guys walking in on him crying…or find out he was losing his mind. But he also couldn't make himself lie. "Bad," he told Soda, not opening his eyes, glad when his voice didn't break. "He's real bad, Soda."

Sodapop was quiet again, and when Pony opened his eyes, his brother was staring down at his own hands as they sat in his lap, a shade paler than before. Pony wished he could comfort him, but what could he say? Don't worry, it's already happened? He's going to die tonight, right after the rumble, and there's nothing we can do to stop it.

"Come on and eat, you two," Darry ordered from the kitchen, and Pony figured he must have heard him come in. Glad that things were okay between the two of them at least, Pony did as he was told, joining his brothers at the dinner table and forcing enough food down that they wouldn't worry too much. Soda was distracted anyway…quieter than usual and not eating much either. Pony remembered what Steve had told him about Sandy then and dropped his eyes to his own plate, feeling bad about making him worry even more. They'd never really gotten a chance to talk about it, but he sure didn't know how to bring it up now.

Darry watched the two of them in puzzled silence, but he thankfully didn't ask about Johnny or how Soda was feeling. Usually they'd talk more during supper, especially before a rumble. Before, Soda had talked about how him and Steve wanted to have a party, but now the three of them ate in nearly silence…the atmosphere was different now. Nothing like how they usually were before a rumble…usually they were all tensed up and full of energy, ready to fight. Now they were quiet. Almost somber.

After dinner, Pony grabbed the bottle of Aspirin and swallowed four, then went to take a shower. He didn't care about getting spruced up for the rumble…didn't care what the socs thought of him. All he could think about was Johnny…about seeing his best friend die again. He didn't want to, he realized all of a sudden. He didn't want to see Johnny die again. Did that make him a bad friend? Dally would be there. Would that be enough? Was it selfish to try and spare himself this time?

Darry watched him when he came out of his room, dressed in fresh clothes that would soon be covered in mud and blood, and Ponyboy could practically feel the concern rolling off him in waves. He didn't know what he could say, though…didn't know how to talk to Darry anymore, so he just kept quiet. Steve had showed up while he was in the shower and him and Soda were playing cards. His brother had seemed to cheer up some, thankfully, and Pony was glad. He hated it when Soda was upset. He'd already lathered on the hair grease, and him and Steve argued and traded wisecracks like usual, but Pony just fixed his hair and sat in the armchair to wait for Two-Bit. He didn't ask about shaving…couldn't have cared less. Not when Johnny was about to die. He didn't ask why his brothers liked fighting…he already knew.

Then again, Darry never had answered…never had told him why he liked fighting. Soda had said he just liked showing off his muscles, but he remembered then how his brother had looked at his old friend Paul, and how he could have been a soc if he'd wanted…if it hadn't been for Pony and Soda. How Darry was going to get out of this town because he was better…because he was smart and good and not like the guys who were young hoods that would grow into old hoods, if they even survived that long. He thought about how he was going to get out too, just like Darry, and thought that maybe Darry didn't like fighting as much as Pony thought he did.

"I don't know if you ought to be in this rumble, Pony," Darry told him, leaning in the doorway and looking worried.

Before, fighting in this rumble had been the most important thing in the world to him, and the thought of Darry making him stay home had been the worst thing he could imagine. But now…now he didn't even want to go. That Aspirin hadn't kicked in yet and the headache hadn't gone away. All he could think about was Johnny dying and Dally running out into the street and getting shot by those cops. What the hell did a rumble matter compared to that?

Still, he played his part, just wanting it all to be over. He didn't even know how to tell his brothers he didn't want to fight, and for some reason, he cared that Steve might call him a coward, or worse, think it and talk to Two-Bit about it but never say it to his face. "I'll be fine. Besides, we need the people since Curly got locked up." His tone was as lackluster as he felt and he realized at the last second that he wasn't supposed to know that…that before, Darry had been the one to tell him about Curly.

Well, he thought, he sure didn't have a future as an actor with this performance.

Darry took a step towards him, mouth open to speak, but before he could, Two-Bit burst in through the front door. Pony watched them all like an outsider…watched Steve and Soda laughing and joking and mock-wrestling with Two-Bit and watched the cards they'd been playing with scatter on the floor. Then he realized Darry was just watching too…watching him, mostly.

Maybe, he thought…maybe him and Darry were more alike than he'd thought.

The words were on the tip of Pony's tongue…I don't want to do this. I don't want to fight or hurt anyone. I just want Johnny to be okay. If Johnny's okay then Dally's okay, then we'll all be okay.

But the moment passed and then they were all heading out, Pony trailing behind. Out in the street Darry crouched down again and Pony was glad to climb on his back and get a ride for a little bit. He'd been laughing before…laughing and joking around and asking why they all liked fighting…but he hadn't known that Johnny was really dying. He hadn't thought his best friend would die so soon. Now he was quiet, listening to the rest of them joke around and trying to smile…or, failing that, at least trying to look less sick than he actually felt.

Pony jumped down from Darry's back after about a block, letting his brother loop an arm around his shoulders and pull him close into a half hug as they walked. "Soda, Pony, If the fuzz shows up, you two get out of there. The rest of us can just get locked up. They can send you two to a boys home," he ordered, pointing a finger at the two of them.

"Nobody in this neighborhood's gonna call the fuzz…they know what'd happen if they did," Steve put in, voice grim.

It didn't matter, Pony thought. The fuzz wouldn't be showing up…not yet.

The lot was just as dark as before, and Pony missed the warmth of his brother when they joined Tim's guys and the Brumly gang. Once more, Pony couldn't help thinking that they didn't belong there…not with all those hoods and future convicts. That wasn't what they were…not him or his brothers or even Steve and Two-Bit. Sure, they messed around and got in trouble and greased their hair, but that didn't make them hoods. Not really.

He did his best to play his part though, accepting Tim Shephard's praise for taking out a soc even when it made him sick and saw once more that he was the youngest kid there. He remembered thinking that Darry was proud that he was a good fighter despite his age and wanted to scream…wanted to start running and not stop until he got to the hospital. Or to go home and crawl under the bed like he had when he was a kid. Pony didn't want his brother to be proud of him for fighting. He didn't didn't want this…any of it. Still, he gave a cigarette to the Brumly guy and listened to him say that Darry would probably start the rumble and then watched his brother square up with Paul.

The fight went the same…sure, he might have managed to dodge a few more blows, and he knew that Dallas was coming so he wasn't surprised to see him, but by the end all he could feel was sad and numb when the socs took off running and some greaser he didn't know called them every dirty word he could think of. Everyone was talking then, all of them too loud, and Pony thought seriously about dropping back into the mud and going to sleep until it was over. He turned and found Sodapop kneeling by Steve who was curled up and holding his ribs, then saw Two-Bit covered in blood, his hand busted open once more.

Dally grabbed him then, pulling him to his feet just like before, but this time Pony shook his head, pulling away and stumbling back a few steps. He couldn't do it…not again.

"Come on, kid. We're going to see Johnny!"

Pony shook his head again, glad it was too dark to see the tears in his eyes. He wanted to tell Dally it didn't matter…that Johnny was going to die, but that he didn't have to. But he didn't. Mostly because he knew better. Dally would have knocked him out for that.

Then again, if he was knocked out, all of this would be over sooner.

Dallas just stared at him, letting his hand drop, and for a second, Pony thought Dal might actually take a swing at him anyway, but then he turned around and left, heading for Buck's car.

"Where's he going?" Two-Bit asked, gripping Ponyboy's shoulder with his good hand as he came out of nowhere.

"To see Johnny." Pony didn't have to say how pointless that was…he was too sick and dizzy to even try anyway. Two kept a hold of his shoulder, and he realized his buddy was looking at him kind of close.

"That asshole got you good, kid," he told him, and Pony wondered which asshole he meant, and if Two-Bit had any idea how bad his own face looked. "Come on. Let's get out of here before the fuzz show." Two-Bit patted him on the back and Ponyboy made himself focus as Soda and Darry helped Steve up.

Back at the house, everyone was focused on Steve and cleaning themselves up, so no one seemed to notice that he couldn't hardly keep his eyes open. This wasn't right…he knew that. He was supposed to be with Dally. He just couldn't do it…not again. He couldn't make himself watch Johnny die again! So, feeling like a coward, he cleaned his face, then decided to just jump in the shower real quick, figuring the others would want it next. When he got out, he went to his room and threw on a change of clothes, then sat on his bed, staring at the wall and wondering if he could go to bed without anyone noticing.

In the other room, Steve swore, and Pony wondered if he could have convinced them not to fight…that none of this meant anything and that fighting wasn't going to get them anywhere and that they were better than this…all of them. Even Steve. The thought made a sad smile tug at his lips. No. Of course that wouldn't have worked. At best, they would have thought he was kidding around. At worst, they'd have called him a coward. Assumed he had a screw loose.

Then again, he was doing a whole day all over again, so he probably did have a screw loose, to be fair.

It was Two-Bit who came into his room, which was kind of surprising until Pony remembered that Soda was probably real worried about Steve. He didn't blame him…broken ribs were no joke, and even if he didn't like Steve much, he didn't want him hurt. Two-Bit hesitated in the doorway, bandages wrapped around his hand and a piece of gauze taped haphazardly to his temple, letting Pony know he'd done it himself instead of letting Darry help.

"Hey, kid. You alright?" He was as serious as Pony had ever seen him, and the urge to tell the truth hit him all of a sudden, but he knew better. Of all the people he could talk to about serious stuff about, Two-Bit was at the bottom of the list. It wasn't that he was a bad guy or nothing…he was probably Pony's favorite person, apart from Sodapop and Johnny, but he wasn't good at being serious. Like before, when Pony had tried to tell him that something bad was going to happen, Two-Bit hadn't wanted to talk about it. He hadn't wanted to face the idea that anything really bad could happen.

"Sure," he told him, nodding and staring at the floor.

"That soc kicked you awful hard, Ponykid." Two-Bit sat beside him on the bed, putting a hand on his back and leaning forward. "You feel okay?"

"Yeah." That was a lie, but a harmless one. As long as this day ended, he'd be alright. "Johnny's gonna die," he whispered then, the words escaping despite his best efforts, and beside him, his friend went still. Pony waited for him to argue. To dismiss his words. To insist that nothing bad was going to happen.

But Two-Bit surprised him.

When he looked up at his friend, Two's face had dropped, eyes closed, jaw tight like he, too, was holding back words. He remembered what Two-Bit had said…that it would have been better if it had been anyone else. That they couldn't be the gang without Johnny. Ponyboy leaned against him for a moment, and Two-Bit put an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him hard.

"I don't want Johnny to die," he whispered, sounding and feeling like a little kid.

Two-Bit nodded, giving Pony a sad, pained smile that made him look too old…like a kid that had seen too much. "Yeah. I know. Me either." He patted Pony on the shoulder one more time, then stood, resting his hand there for a minute. "You ought to tell your brothers if you're feeling bad. You hear?"

Pony just nodded, watching him go.

He didn't want to join the others in the living room, but he figured he'd better or Darry or Soda might come looking, and he didn't want them to worry. Not about him. Not now. It was almost over…just one more awful, shitty thing had to happen, and then it would be over and he could…

What? Move on? Would he ever be able to move on from this? From starting it? From causing his best friend to die? When would they realize that it was his fault? Did they all already know? Surely Steve did. What about his brothers?

Trying not to think about it and wondering if they'd catch him if he tried to swallow a few more Aspirin, Pony stood in the doorway to the living room, watching the others. Darry was dabbing at his busted knuckles with a cloth that probably had alcohol on it, judging by the way he winced. Sodapop was sitting on the couch beside Steve, wrapping his own knuckles while Steve slowly sipped at a glass of water, a hand pressed to his side. Two-Bit had dropped onto the floor by the coffee table and was absently picking up the cards Soda and Steve had dropped earlier.

Pony checked the clock…half past eight. In the background, the TV droned on softly, some show he didn't recognize playing. He didn't care enough to tune in and try to figure it out. Instead, he went to sit on Soda's other side, wanting to be close to his brother.

How much time did he have? It had taken less than an hour to get to the hospital, even including the police stopping them. Then it had probably taken him the better part of two hours to get home. So Johnny was going to die sometime in the next hour, then, a couple of hours later, Dallas. And there was nothing he could do but wait. So, leaning his head back against the sofa, he closed his eyes to do just that, praying it was all over soon.

Darry had the newspaper in his lap, but he wasn't reading it. Instead, Pony could practically feel his eyes on him. But he didn't know what to say…he hadn't been here before. Didn't know his lines.

"Pony?" Sodapop asked softly, and he forced his eyes open, wishing they'd let him sleep.

"Hm?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"You're bleeding."

They were all bleeding. They'd just been in a rumble. That was kind of the point. He didn't say that, though…just let Soda grab a damp cloth and press it against his temple.

"That soc kicked you awful hard."

"Yeah, then you just about killed him, the poor bastard," Steve put in with a snort, wincing when that must have hurt.

"I should have done worse," Soda grumbled, looking grim as he cleaned the blood Pony knew must be in his hair. "He was acting like he was trying to kick his head in." Soda turned back to him. "You feel sick or anything?"

Pony shook his head, lying. "I'm fine."

After the blood was cleaned up, Soda pressed some gauze to his head and taped it in place, then grabbed one of Pony's hands to press an alcohol soaked cloth to his knuckles. Just like before, Soda's lip was busted open, but otherwise, he didn't look too bad. Soda always had been a good fighter…Pony just wished he didn't have to be. Soda was too good for this place…too good for those rich assholes to call him a greaser like it was a dirty word, and to look down on him because he worked at a DX and didn't have money for those nice cars he loved.

"Ponyboy?"

Realizing he'd closed his eyes again, he forced them open. "Huh?"

Soda's eyes darted over to Darry, and Pony realized he was nervous.

"I'm alright. Just tired."

"Yeah? Don't sleep just yet, okay. It's too early. Besides, we've still gotta have that party." Soda was trying real hard to smile, but Pony wanted to ask him why the hell he wanted to have a party when Johnny was probably already dead and Steve's ribs were busted up and Dallas was going to die soon…when their parents were dead and Darry'd had to give up his ticket out of this place where all they could be proud of was their greasy hair and their ability to beat the shit out of someone before that someone beat them up first. Instead, he tried to smile back.

"Party? Where's the cake?"

"I'll have to make one."

"And the balloons?"

"Hear that, Steve? Go find us some balloons."

Steve lifted his middle finger with a snort, eyes closed as he lay back against the sofa.

"Fire up the grill, Dar. This is supposed to be a party!"

Darry grinned, shaking his head fondly at Soda. "How about we save the party for tomorrow, huh?"

Tomorrow. Tomorrow Johnny and Dally would be dead and Pony…well, he didn't know where he'd be.

But he tried to smile. Tried to act normal. He read over Soda's shoulder at the car magazine and listened to his brother's running commentary until his head was resting on Soda and his eyes wouldn't stay open anymore.

And right before he drifted off, the phone rang.

He closed his eyes again, not wanting to hear. Not wanting to do it all over. Not this. But Darry jumped up and barked out his orders…Dally had robbed a convenience store. The cops were after him. They had to hide him. And they all jumped up, even Pony, but as the others ran out the door, he backed up instead, staring at the door, heart pounding, like one of them might come back for him and make him come along. He didn't know how he'd explain this to his brothers after it was all over…didn't know how he could make any of this make sense. All he knew was that his feet were taking him to Darry's room…to what had been his parents' room, and then he was backing himself into the far corner, dropping down and huddling there like it might keep him safe. He couldn't do it again...couldn't watch Dally commit suicide out in the street.

His head was pounding so loudly he couldn't hear himself think, and he couldn't even manage to keep his head up as the world started to spin.

And then he heard it…the gunshots. One after the other.

And then there was nothing.

Thanks for reading!