A/N: Hey there! Sorry about the wait I kind of hit a brick wall with this chapter. I wasn't really sure were to go with it and I wasn't really sure what to do about it. So I had to take a step away from it and come back later, but here's the chapter.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Outsiders.
"Ponyboy, the brakes," Jacquelyn said as her boyfriend's youngest brother turned on to the street without so much as touching the breaks. He touched on the breaks in the middle of the turn. "Not now." She ran her fingers through her dark hair as she attempted to relax into the seat. She hadn't expected teaching Ponyboy to drive to be so stressful and terrifying. "You're not in you lane, Pony," the brunette voiced as she watched the centerline in the rearview mirror. The boy in the driver's seat adjusted accordingly. "That was a good adjustment," she praised through a sigh. "Uh, ready to go home?" she questioned, hoping that he was. He nodded, unable to talk and drive. "Let's go."
When he turned on to a street that was more familiar to him, he looked into the rearview and met her gaze. Her hazel eyes were wide, but she arched her eyebrow in acknowledgement. "Any better?" he asked her.
"Yeah," the brunette nodded. He had gotten better in the past couple of weeks. "I don't know why you don't like the brakes. They will be your best friend," she told him. "Lane," she exhaled as she felt the car start to drift towards the center of the road. Ponyboy over adjusted, yanking the car towards the residential mailboxes on the side of the road. Jacquelyn flinched, as gripped the side of the seat, expecting the truck to graze against the mailboxes, but it never happened.
Ponyboy turned into the driveway, without using the breaks, next to her car, closer that she would have liked, and parked the truck. Her took the keys from the ignition and handed them to her. She took them and pushed them into her pocket.
"How was school this week?" she questioned as she pushed the door open, carefully so not to scratch her car door.
Ponyboy looked at her as he got out of the cab. He closed the door and leaned against it. Apparently, that was the way that the Curtis men alerted her that they wanted to talk to her. The brunette pushed her hair over her shoulder and looked over at him as she leaned on the truck next to him.
"Alright, what's up?" she questioned as she looked up at the sky.
Ponyboy's eyes flicked upwards as well. His grey eyes watched as the setting sun turned the sky a bright pink, purple, and orange color. "You asked about school," he started slowly. The school year had started last week and she hadn't gotten the chance to ask him about it.
"I did," she replied equally as slow.
"I guess it's been kinda rough. People are still talking about Johnny and Dal, and now they are getting tired of the rumors that people were spreading and they really wanna know the truth. So now they keep asking me or Two-Bit or Steve." Ponyboy shrugged. "I just want it to blow over, I guess."
"You want them to know the truth about what happened?" she questioned.
Ponyboy shrugged and then looked over at her. "Would you like people to know what happened between you and you father?"
She was quiet for a moment. "I guess that I wouldn't."
Ponyboy shrugged. "I guess it's not the same, but you get it. I just want them to forget about it."
"The more you don't talk about it, the more they are gonna wanna know," she told him honestly. "The more I hid that my dad was hitting me, the more people asked what happened and where the bruises came from and who and how. It's just hard to open up about it, but it's hard to listen to the rumors too." She shrugged. "It's rough either way. You just have to pick what you are able to deal with."
Before Ponyboy could say anything, Steve's Chevy skidded to a stop in front of them. Inside the car, Soda and Steve were laughing at the face that she was making. Her hazel eyes were wide and she flicked a rather unladylike gesture at the two boys.
Soda rolled down his window, "Don't be like that, Jac." He rolled up the window and then opened the door. His jeans were covered in oil and grim. "I just thought the look of terror on your face was priceless." He attempted to mock the look on her face, but only found himself bursting into another fit of laughter. Jacquelyn crossed her arms over her chest and put on her best 'it's-not-funny' face, however after a moment, she found herself laughing.
"Whatever, Soda," the brunette told him as she pushed herself off the car and started towards the house. Ponyboy tailed her and she looked over her shoulder at him as he pushed his hands into his pockets and kicked a rock with his shoe. "It's up to you," she told him quietly. "Personally, I wouldn't say anything. They don't need to know." He looked at her, as if he were trying to decide if he wanted to believe her or not. Before he could say anything, Soda tossed his arm around his shoulder and then hers.
"How's the driving going?" Soda laughed.
Jacquelyn ducked from under his arm and opened the door. "Just fine," she told him as she kicked her shoes off and started down the hall. She stopped briefly to greet Two-Bit, who was lying on the sofa watching Mickey Mouse.
"Poker, Ross?" Steve asked her as Two-Bit handed him a deck of cards.
"Later, yeah?" she called back to him as she continued down the hall. The brunette pushed the door open with her foot as she ran her fingers through her brown hair. She closed her hazel eyes for a moment as she collapsed on to the bed and buried her face in the pillow.
"Jacquelyn," a voice called to her. A soft push on her side followed. The brunette shifted in her sleep, turning her head towards the wall. "Jacquelyn," the voice said again.
In her sleepy state she somehow managed to place the voice as Darry's. The brunette shifted again, burying her face into the pillow. "Hmm?"
"You wanna join the world of the living?" he questioned to her as he pushed her dark hair from her shoulders. The brunette rolled over on to her back and looked up at the ceiling. "Feeling okay?" he asked her. Before she could respond, he pressed his hand to her forehead. "You're warm." The brunette swatted his hand away from her forehead. He then placed his hand on the side of her throat. She swatted his hand away from her neck.
"Go 'way," she moaned as she rolled over to bury her face in to the pillow.
Darry shifted on the bed, pressing his back to the pillows behind him. "How long have you been sick?" he questioned. He sound of the paper opening greeted her ears. She mumbled something about not being sick into the pillow as Darry turned the page of the paper. "Okay, how long have you not been feeling well?" She mumbled something about her being fine and for him to stop worrying. "You gonna tell me or not?" he questioned.
"It's nothing," she said as she rolled over. "It's a migraine," she told him.
"Aspirin?" he asked.
"Pass," she muttered as she lay her face back down in the pillow. Her head was pounding and she felt sick to her stomach.
"What do you need?" he asked.
"Ice," she muttered back into the pillow.
She felt Darry's weight leave the bed and his footsteps leaving the bedroom and going down the hall. She exhaled slowly as she sat back up and ran her shaky fingers through her dark hair. Her vision was swimming as her dark eyes struggled to focus on anything in the room. She turned towards the doorway as she heard footsteps in the hallway. Through her blurry vision, she could see Darry's muscular form walking into the room with an ice pack.
"What are you doing?" he questioned as he sat down on the bed. He pressed his hang against her chest, gently pressing her down towards the bed, but she tried her hardest to fight him. In the long run, he won and she lay back on the pillow. When his hand moved from her chest, she shot back up.
Bad choice of action.
Her vision swam and her head pounded. Darry saw what was coming before she did. When she leaded over the side of the bed, he pulled her thick hair over she shoulders and rubbed her back. However, the action of vomiting, that he'd expected, didn't happen. She just hung over the side of the bed panting. When she has up, slowly this time, he handed her the bag of ice and let her flop back on the bed.
"Say nothing," she growled.
"Jacquelyn."
The brunette rolled over and sighed heavily. This time she was being shaken awake, rather roughly. Her head was still pounding and when she opened her eyes, she noticed that her vision was still swimming. She also noticed that the sun had set. It took a long moment for her dark eyes to focus in on the form at that was shaking her.
"Hmmm?"
"You got a phone call," Soda's voice said to her. The brunette groaned as she rolled back over on to her stomach and buried her face in the pillow. Soda reached out and shook her again. More roughly. "Get up. It's important."
The brunette rolled over once again and sat up. She brushed her disheveled dark hair from her eyes. It wasn't what Soda had said, but the tone of his voice that had gotten her to move. She pushed the sheets off her body and placed her feet on the cool hardwood. After running her fingers through her hair, trying to pull the knots out, she started down the hall.
"Hello," she stated as she picked the receiver up from the table.
"Is this Jacquelyn Ross?" the voice on the other end asked. Jacquelyn confirmed that it was. "I'm calling from the Northside Hospital in regards to a Mr. Mickey Ross."
"Is everything okay?" she questioned, her heart in her throat.
"There was an accident," the woman on the other end replied.
Before anything else was said, the brunette had her keys in her hand and was out the door. She could hear Darry calling after her, but honestly she wasn't listening. She was in the car and out of the driveway within seconds, her tires skidding as she pulled out of reverse and into drive a little too quickly.
The hospital wasn't all that far from the house. However, it seemed that she hit almost every red light on the way there. She clenched the steering wheel in her hands until her knuckles turned white and she was unable to hold her grip that tightly anymore. She relaxed her fingers for a spilt moment before zooming through another yellow light. She then pulled her car into the parking lot of the hospital and into the first parking spot she could find.
The brunette darted through the doors and up to the front desk. The woman sitting there looked up at her and into her frantic hazel eyes. The woman's brown eyes stayed perfectly calm as she looked over Jacquelyn's disheveled form. "Ma'am?"
"Mickey Ross," the brunette uttered.
"Can I see some id?" the woman asked lazily. Jacquelyn pulled her id from her wallet and showed it to the woman. "Room," she paused as looked down at a list. "203."
The brunette took off down the hall, dodging nurses and doctors as she did. When she rounded the corner she ran into a taller man in a white coat. She stumbled back as she tried to regain her balance.
"I'm sorry," she said as she started around him.
"What room are you looking for?" he asked.
"2, 203," she told him.
The doctor placed a hand on her shoulder and the brunette turned her light eyes to him. His eyes were green and held an unspoken apology. Jacquelyn tore away from his grasp and down the hall. 200. 201. 202. 203. She skidded to a stop as a nurse walked out of the room. The nurses blue eyes also held the unspoken apology. The brunette looked over the nurse's shoulder and into the small room. There was a figure on the bed, covered in a white sheet. Jacquelyn's heart started racing. She ducked around the nurse and into the room, despite the nurse calling out to her.
When she got to the side of the bed, she stopped and reached her hand out. However, she stopped before she pulled the sheet back. Her hand shaking over the white sheet. Slowly, she dropped her hand to the sheet and pulled it back just enough to reveal the face.
The brunette dropped to the floor. Her hands over her mouth, biting her bottom lip. She felt like everything was in slow motion.
The body covered in white belonged to her father.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her vision blurred. Her head pounded. She was dizzy and felt sick to her stomach.
Her father was dead.
As the realization hit her, she felt her body fall to the ground. However, she didn't feel her body hit the ground. The feelings of sickness for her migraine kicked back up. Her vision swam and her hazel eyes could focus on nothing. Her head and heart pounded, but they were out of sync with one another. Her lungs burned, because she realized that she was holding her breath, and when she tried to breathe her body rejected the air. The more she tried to breath the more it hurt and the more she just didn't want to. Her fingers and toes started to tingle due to the lack of oxygen in her system. Her body felt like it was shutting down. The last thing that she remembered was hearing a nurse calling out to her and heavy footsteps that couldn't have belonged to the nurse. Neither were the arms that wrapped around her waist as she succumbed to the darkness that was slowly closing in on her.