I know I've been away for a long time, but after I'd updated some of my other stories and got to this one, I started to have writer's block and it finally went away last night.

This story will not be abandoned, but it will be updated in a manner. I need to ask if you'd rather have me update more frequently with shorter chapters (between 800 and 1100 words) or have me update less frequently with longer chapters (1500-2000 words or above). Please let me know in the reviews. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

WARNINGS: LANGUAGE

"It is six in the morning!" Two Bit groaned, rolling over as someone knocked on the door. "Who would be here at six in the fricking morning on a Saturday?"

"Who even knocks on the door anymore?" Steve mumbled. "Most just walk in."

Aimee laughed as she opened the door. "May I help you?"

The teen was tall with brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a blue button up shirt and smelled like cigarettes and beer and... Aimee jolted. Blood. He smelled like blood.

"Is Ponyboy here?" He asked.

Since Pony was so injured, Aimee considered telling him to go away, but his eyes were stained red from tears, and he looked like her after she'd found Marcia unconscious on the bathroom floor while having no idea what happened to her. Which, is to say, traumatized.

She nodded. "Yeah. Come on in."

She let him in and escorted him to the living room, where Ponyboy was half sitting up on the couch.

Ponyboy jumped about a foot in the air, trying to move back, but he was prevented from doing so by the couch.

"Woah!" The boy exclaimed. "I'm not here to cause trouble! Luke asked me to get you."

Ponyboy's suspicion dropped, and he sat up straighter. "Luke?" He said.

"Yeah. He wanted me to tell you that he's sorry for everything, and even though you're not ready to forgive him, he hopes that one last try would help," the boy told him. "He was kind of babbling, so that was what I could gather."

"What happened to him?" Ponyboy asked.

The boy stared at the ground. "His mom... she beat him real bad. I found him, and he's... in the hospital."

"Is he gonna be alright?" Aimee cut in.

The boy shrugged. "Right now... they don't know if he's going to make it."

Ponyboy struggled to stand.

"Oh, no, you don't," Aimee told him, pushing him back onto the couch. "I know you want to visit Luke, but you need to get a bit better first."

"How'd you know that that was what I was doing? I could've had to use the bathroom."

"Do you?"

"No..."

"Face it, Ponyboy, you and Soda are too much alike for me not to understand you by now."

Ponyboy shrugged. "Good point."

The boy nodded at the injured fourteen year old on the couch. "I'm sorry for what happened, and I'll keep you posted."

Ponyboy nodded. "Thanks."

"No. Thank you."

Before Aimee or Pony could ask what that meant, the boy waved goodbye and strolled out the door.

For a long moment, Aimee and Ponyboy sat there, listening to their friends snoring, the only noise in the otherwise silent room.

"Well," Ponyboy finally said, "that was an odd meeting."

A few hours later, Ponyboy was resting on the couch; Darry had gone into work; Two Bit, Steve, and Dally were who knows where; and Johnny was reading in the living room.

"Soda, do you have any idea how to cook?" Aimee asked.

Soda looked mildly offended. "Of course, I do! Don't my eggs look appetizing?"

Aimee giggled. "Soda, eggs aren't supposed to be green."

"Who says?"

"Every cook book in the history of the universe."

"Not necessarily. I mean, what about Green Eggs and Ham?"

"Last time I checked, Dr. Seuss wasn't a professional chef."

Soda huffed before he placed eggs on his and Aimee's plates while she got the bacon.

"Alright, Soda," Aimee sighed. "I'm trusting you not to give me food poisoning."

She took a bite.

"These actually aren't bad," she admitted.

Soda smiled. "I told you."

"Oh, by the way, someone stopped by this morning," she told him before launching into the story of the boy that had told Ponyboy about Luke.

Soda shrugged. "Well, Pony looks to be getting better. Depending on how he's feeling later, we could probably take him to see Luke."

Aimee bit her lip. "I'm worried about Ponyboy."

"Why?"

"Well... Soda, we both know that this has something to do with our relationship. Someone doesn't like us being together, and they're taking it out on Ponyboy because hurting him hurts you. And this person isn't going to be the only one unhappy with our relationship."

"Aimee... are you breaking up with me?" Soda asked.

"Of course not! It's just... how are we going to jump these hurdles, so to speak?"

"I've already talked to the gang, and we're working on how to protect Ponyboy. He won't be going anywhere alone; at least one of the gang will be with him at school whenever they can. We're really trying. Last time we accepted it, and a kid died. Johnny almost died. We're not making that mistake again."

Aimee nodded. "Soda... I love you."

Soda blinked, a little taken aback by the sudden statement. "I love you, too, Aimee."

Aimee smiled, weakly. "Thanks, Soda."

"For what?"

"For giving me something I really needed."

Soda blinked again. "What do you mean?"

Aimee rolled her eyes before leaning across the table and kissing her boyfriend, lightly, on the lips.

"I love you, Sodapop Curtis."

Soda smiled.

From the doorway, Ponyboy grinned before returning to the couch.

If Aimee could give his brother the love he so desperately needed after the loss of Sandy and their parents, he didn't see why he should resent her for any reason.

Later that day, Darry helped Ponyboy out of the car, and the three Curtis brothers, along with Aimee, walked into the hospital.

The person behind the desk looked up when they approached her, her eyes immediately zeroing in on Ponyboy, who was looking better but was still far from healed.

"We're here to see Luke McCoy," Darry said to the person behind the desk.

She nodded. "Room 107, right down that hallway. Does he need to be admitted?" She asked, pointing at Pony.

Darry shook his head. "No, he fell off his bike, got busted up, but we've got it under control."

"If you're sure," she said.

No one liked how she said that, but they brushed it off and walked down the hallway to Luke McCoy's room.

Luke looked like he'd been hit by a semi. His face was puffy and covered with purple and black marks; there were so many, the only trace of his normally pale skin was the smallest oval almost hidden by his hair. His arms were very similar, but there, bruises were joined by cigarette burns and cuts and scratches.

To put it bluntly, someone had busted the kid up bad.

"Holy shit," Darry muttered.

Ponyboy slowly walked forward.

"Just so you know, Luke, I forgive you."

As if on cue, a loud beeep sounded through the room.

The green line went flat.

And Pony felt as if it was his own heart that had stopped beating and not Luke's.

I know it's not the best chapter, but this story's about to get real interesting. Let's just say, you should remember the conversation with the lady behind the desk (Mwahaha, evil laugh, mwahaha).

Sorry, what were we talking about?

Anyway, reviews keep me updating! REVIEW!

See you next time! Bye bye!