I think I dropped some subtle hints as to what Angie's sickness is, and in this chapter you find out. Here comes the drama! Enjoy, and thanks for the reviews. :)


It felt to be suitable punishment, leaving those boys down there to starve for a day. The next morning she fed them all cold spaghetti, and laughed as they struggled to lick the sauce off of their face and chins. She then remarked on how foul they smelled before she was rudely reminded by Darry that she was the cause of their stench. Angie had slapped him across the face, and he didn't mutter another word.

Ponyboy was in worse shape than he had been prior to receiving Angie's medicine, and the whole day before his two brothers had been fretting and worrying over him.

He'd grown a sickly pale, almost yellow. His legs had given out, and he had dangled from the wall for so long that dark bruises had formed around his wrists. Seeing his brother in such condition made Sodapop determined to get him out of that place, even if it meant another horrific encounter with Angie.

Angie was preparing for the doctor's appointment she'd made when her mother called.

"Hello? Angie dear, we're coming back. I'm going to try to make things right between us."

Angie had slammed the phone down and ran out of the house as quickly as she could. It was raining hard outside, and she'd neglected to bring an umbrella. By the time she'd climbed in her car she was soaked.

As she waited for her results in the waiting room, she let the whirring of health devices and the sound of soft voices flowing through the halls fade into the background. It was the second time she'd been in a waiting room, and since the first time had been etched in her memory like a scar, gruesome flashbacks ensued.

Anxious feet were tapping on the floors, her parents were mumbling to each other, offering comfort to one another, but not to their grief stricken child who sat silently and rigidly. Little Angie couldn't get the image of the expression of pure fear on her sister's face just before she'd been knocked a good twenty feet by a car that had been speeding. It'd been a hit and run. Angie had run to her sister's aid, she'd shaken her shoulders and tried to wake her up, but every effort she'd made only made more blood spill out onto the road. At last another car passed and they sent for an ambulance.

No one told Angie that it was too late for her sister. She spent hours upon hours waiting for some news on a cold metal chair, all the time trying to remain hopeful as her sister would've if the situation were reversed. She was unable. She had numbed her feelings to such an extent that by the time she'd heard the fatal words, it seemed to have made no difference. Instead of being concerned, her parents were appalled. They didn't understand their child's nature, they were so fearful of it that they did not question it.

It was a sense of déjà vu, because now she was doing the exact same thing. She was numbing herself so that she could hide her reaction to the news.

"Well Miss Angie," the doctor strode out, clipboard in hand, and a look of disappointment twisting his thick white brows together.

Angie stood up and folded her arms over her chest, her teeth chattering a little. The ends of her red hair was still wet, and it clung to her fair shoulders.

"I don't know how you are going to tell your parents this, but as far as I can tell, you're pregnant."

Angie bit down hard on her lip to stifle the oncoming gasp of horror. She'd never once thought she had been pregnant, but it did make sense.

"I was a little bit tipsy, he took advantage of me." She squeaked.

"You'll have to talk to the police about that."

Angie nodded fiercely and left without another word.

She returned home shaking, cold, and bitter. Her mind whirled at how everything had taken such a terrible turn in the past week. Now everyone despised her, her parents were coming home soon, she was pregnant, and due to all these things, she would have to let the boys go soon. She didn't consider the fact that maybe she was being punished, she only prattled on about how it was unfair in a low quivering voice.

What she did next was all on a whim. She opened her parents' safe, took all of the money out, and packed a small bag of clothing. She was reluctant to open the basement door, but she did it anyway, feeling that she had to hurry.

"I can't keep you here anymore, I have to go, I have to leave now. But I'm not going alone." She faced Sodapop, who was as bewildered as his companions. "I don't care if you hate me or if you'd rather kill yourself than even be with me. I have to have someone go with me, I can't just do everything alone anymore!"

She scurried to unchain Darry, Ponyboy, and then Sodapop.

"You guys go wherever you want, he's staying with me." She had grasped Soda's wrist tightly. "You can tell the police whatever you want. They won't be able to find me."

Darry lifted Ponyboy and ran out, saying a short goodbye to his brother. He was too afraid to stay longer. Angie had a gun tucked in her bra, and she'd use it if she had to.

Being outside was exhilarating. Soda stood in the rain for a good few minutes and let it pound all the sweat out of his skin. Angie waited with him, holding his hand tightly. She didn't scold him, she didn't rush him. She wordlessly let the rain drench her.

"Where are we going?" Sodapop asked as Angie pulled out of the driveway. Her tires screeched loudly in protest, and he noted that dark tire marks had left their print on the pavement.

"I don't know, we're just getting out of here." She was about to explain to him everything, but fear petrified her and formed a lump in her throat. He made her feel self conscious. She cared about him, and because of that, she was angry with herself for drinking the night before. She wanted to rip her hair out for ever drinking in the first place. She knew he'd be disappointed with her. If she had any chance, this news would spoil it.

But Angie swallowed boldly and decided to tell him anyway. She was never one to back down.

"I couldn't stop thinking about her…every time I looked at my hands there was blood on them, and I couldn't wash it off. I wanted release so terribly. I almost killed myself I drank so much, and I barely remember it, but I know I did something while I was drunk and I feel so stupid for it."

Once again, Angie had managed to surprise him. At the moment she looked and sounded so incredibly human that he wanted to pity her. He wanted to reach over and comfort her like he would anyone else.

Then he remembered the shape Ponyboy was in and looked away from her tear streaked face.

"I don't want this…this stupid thing. I want to rip out my insides and kill it. I don't need a baby."

The blood drained out of his face. He was staring out of the window, looking out at the dismal passing scenery of pounding rain. The moment he heard baby he forgot everything else.

"What are you going to do with it?" He asked, turning to look at the red eyed girl who was clenching the steering wheel too tightly.

"I'm not going to keep it, I'll get rid of it."

"You're not going to kill it." He said. It was not a question, it was a demand. He surmised a short moment later that telling Angie to do or not to do anything was crazy, but amazingly, she listened.

"I won't, if you want it, you can have it."

"I don't want it. I don't want you to keep it either, but don't kill it."

"I won't." her voice had turned soft.

The rain didn't cease, instead, it pounded harder against the windshield. After a silent twenty minutes, Angie pulled over and waited for the rain to quit.

"It's my fault. I should've been the one who ran out in front of that car. I was the one who threw the ball across the street. I was too little to understand that Lindsey was all I had."

She leaned her head against the steering wheel and cried for the first time in years.