Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or the song "Nothing Left to Lose".

Late night sex, smokin' cigarettes. I try real hard but I can't forget. Now in a heartbeat, I would do it all again. Now I see that you and me were never meant. Never meant to be now. Now I'm lost somewhere. Lost between Elvis and suicide. Ever since the day we died, well. I've got nothing left to lose.

"We have made all the arrangements for next Wednesday at eight."

Soda's hands are folded together and his legs crossed and he has out a note pad. He scribes down every word the doctor says, whether it's important or not. "Is he going to eat before?"

I'd imagine this wasn't what Soda was like in school or maybe he wouldn't have dropped out when he did. This is something that matters to him and school just didn't. It's understandable that he'd do extreme measures. He's learned from the best.

"I just read that they fast the patients before surgery. I was just wondering because, you see, my brother, he eats a lot. Even now. You should have seen him before. Guy was like a truck."

The doctor is a nice guy. He likes Soda a lot. His name is Jim and he's fifty and he has nice brown hair and a beard. "Your point, Sodapop?"

Soda's been doing all kinds of research at the library. I'm not sure he's ever been in one before. He brings home more books now that Pony ever did. I don't see how he finds time to read, but then again, Soda has never slept much.

"I just don't want him to get too hungry."

Jim flashes his perfectly white teeth and sneers. "He'll be fine, Soda. We'll make sure Darrel isn't hungry."

Jennie is with us. She asked off on Wednesday and today. She's more of an observer.

Kathy clears her throat and leans forward. "What are the risks exactly, Doctor? Can you go over those again?"

"There are risks with every surgery," he says. "A friend of mine is doing the operation and I have full confidence in him. Darry is a strong patient but I do want to warn you that there is a chance."

There's a chance. He doesn't have to say of what. I don't think doctors say that word unless it's at the end of the line.

"What about his leg?" This is Ponyboy.

Jim scratches his beard and sighs a little. "A large portion of the leg is coming out. There isn't any possibility he will ever use that leg again or even walk. He'll have to do a lot of work once the surgery is over to help build some muscle back but he'll be in a wheelchair for most of his life."

It's funny to hear that. Darry's never had a problem with lack of muscles. When he was a baby, he had the same size arms and a hard chest. Well, that may be exaggerating a little but can you even picture Darry as a little boy?

"What is your theory?" Soda asks. "Honestly, do you think Darry's going to be ok on Wednesday?"

We all look up and watch the pause and the head shake. "We're just not sure. Just like any surgery, there are risks. I don't want to tell you he'll be fine but I don't want you to worry too much."

Some social workers came by yesterday. The talked to Soda alone though Pony and I could hear every word:

"They're turning seventeen in two weeks. I'm nineteen. That's how old Darry was."

"Seventeen is not legal. They are still under state control. We granted Darry Curtis custody. Not Sodapop Curtis. Now you can apply for legal guardianship but I'm just going to be blunt, the court is not going to give two teenagers to another teenager who works at a gas station."

"I make good money. Since they're seventeen they should be treated more like adults. Wouldn't it be easier for me to get custody?"

"Not in this state."

"They're not going into some home. I won't let that happen."

"Then we'll see you in court."

It's funny to me how there was no "if" in that conversation. What if Darry lives and is fine and this is just a pointless conversation? What if Darry lives to be one-hundred and marries Kathy and we all live happily ever after?

They know as well as the rest of us though, there is never a happily ever after.

Soda has worried himself physically sick. He's averaging four hours a night. He won't tell us all the details of what the doctors have told him. Like the fact of how Darry is going to fix roofs when he's in a wheelchair or who is going to hire a man with no college education and can't walk.

Kathy gets up and gets coffee and I follow her and we sit on the bench outside.

"You know Darry keeps asking questions." Her voice is soft; like half of her wants me to hear her and the other half is still fighting for her to keep quiet. "'What do you think it is? How come you're not fat?'"

I switch sides so I face her. She stares mindlessly at the ceiling like she's searching for something. "What are you gonna say when the time comes to confess?"

She shrugs. "I'm telling him after the surgery. I don't want him to be angry beforehand." I'm sure she's thought of that moment a million times. She just can't bring herself to think the best. "I want a family with him."

"He does too," I tell her. "Once he gets over the shock of this and all."

"Yeah, sure," she says. "I've pictured my life with Darry. I've already named our kids." She laughs as she sips on the edge of her coffee cup. "I can see myself having kids with him."

"Yeah, I recall thinking the same thing about Dally too."

She doesn't know quite what to say. It's like I've insulted her. It says: I pictured the same thing too and look where it got me. And she's quiet and I just leave without saying anything else.

It doesn't stop. It's every day now. There's a thought every day and I fight it so hard but it never works. I could pick up the phone and ask everything I want to know but I can't bring myself to call so that's how I ended up here. Maybe here I can't stop with the questions and thoughts and breathe a little.

But I know better than to numb my thoughts so the questions return.

What about Peter? I don't want to know the answer. Dally lies, I've gotten used to that.

There's more going on and I know now. I could ask Dale. I can smell him sitting in the next room but my stomach twists just with the thought. One of his goons may tell me. I'm sure they're not hard to crack.

There's one right now beside me with a joint and he's offering it to me.

"I'm Doogie."

"We've met."

I take the joint and watch his eyes shrink into tiny little dots. "You're Peter's girl."

"Sure."

He has a scar running up his right thumb. I notice it as he plays with the beer bottle in his hand. It's deep like a cut from a big blade and I swear I've seen that type of scar from one familiar blade.

I let the smoke roll off my tongue and onto his rough race. "What can you tell me about Dallas Winston?"

He processes the question. He arches an eyebrow and asks slowly, "You dated him."

I take another hit. "What do you know that I don't? Don't try to fool me because you look like a pretty smart guy, Doogie. And I'm a pretty smart girl so why don't we go outside and talk some?"

He has the type of smile that goes to the side and the gold teeth of a gang banger. It doesn't faze me though and waves for me to follow.

Outside there's a patio and a couple of lawn chairs. Doogie sits first and throws a baggie on the table. He gets out some paper and rolls another joint. He tells me to keep the one I have.

"So, what do you want to know?"

I cross my legs. The house is in the middle of the woods. There are trees for miles in front of us. "What's your real name?"

He chuckles a little, blowing the ash off the end of his stick. "You gotta earn that, sweets."

There's something about him that reminds me of Dally. I couldn't pinpoint just what it was. He wasn't as mean and dirty as Dale but not as nasty and dumb like the other one. He was the middle guy and he was strong and he was smart.

"Start from the beginning I guess," I say.

The way he smokes isn't normal. He uses his left hand and when he alternates, there's a dip in his hand that isn't normal. "I met Dally through Dale only this year. I don't know much but I'm guessing I know what you want."

"What does the name Sam mean to you?"

"The same as you."

"What about Jason Gibbs?"

This makes me laugh. He leans across the table and dumps more ash into the tray. "Same as you I suppose. Why do you ask, if you don't mind me asking?"

"So you do know who he is?"

"Yeah," he says quietly. "Yeah, Jason was a friend of mine."

"What if someone starts looking?" Randy asked, shaking beside Michael.

Sam breathed out smoke and took a deep breath. "No one will. No one even knows this guy. He just dropped off the planet. No one knows him. No one will come looking. No one. Trust me."

Doogie twists the joint around his fingers. The sleeve of his shirt falls, and the depth of the scar is reveled. "Again, why do you ask? It's rather odd you'd bring that up, Danni."

"I never told you my name."

"Everyone around here knows your name. We've met before, remember. Can't handle your smoke, Danni? Or is something else wrong? You can tell me. I'm good at keeping secrets."

"Aren't we all?"

There's a pause in the conversation. Doogie stops smoking for a second and looks out into the woods as if something's moving and he's trying to catch it with his eyes.

"Jason was murdered, ya know?"

I raise an eyebrow, dumping off the ash from my stick. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Word around is that Sam did it."

This is news. No one knew that Sam had killed anyone, especially not Jason Gibbs, the boy whom no one knew but apparently someone did. Was this how Dally knew about me? It must have been. Dale must know along with the rest of his crew.

Who else knows though? No one was ever supposed to know so how do they?

"Did you know Dally had a brother?"

He chuckles a little. "Ronnie?"

"Why did he come to Tulsa?"

Doogie pauses again and looks back out into the woods. It's darkness out there though it's quiet enough to hear all the animals move inside. If you stare hard enough, you can spot a pair of bright eyes.

"What's in it for me?" Doogie speaks up. "You just expect me to give out all this info without a little something?"

I recross my legs and look where he's looking only he's looking at me now and he's waiting. "What do you want?"

He licks his lips over and they're suddenly wet and not cracked or rough. They're sorta nice. "What did you have in mind?"

Is this really how much my soul is worth these days? Going to third-base with a guy named Doogie for a few answers. A few answers I'm not sure why I want or how they'll benefit me. Do I really stoop so low for such a useless cause?

Or is it so useless? Does it have more to do with me than I think?

"What are you doing?"

His shadow casts on the glass table. Just by the outline, I don't have to look up. "Go away."

"Hey, Doogie."

Doogie lifts his head up and nods a little. Unlike the other one, he's not scared of Dally and unlike Dale, he's not threatened. He's still causally sitting here, right by my side so my bare leg touches his.

Dally's eyes go to what's in my hand. "What's that?"

"What does it look like?"

His eyes switch back over to Doogie who just shrugs and passes Dally his. "Want a hit?"

Dally rolls his eyes. His glare comes down hard on me. "Go home."

"Why?"

"You don't belong here."

"You can't make me do anything."

"Wanna bet?"

"Try it."

Doogie sits back in silence but he's obviously entertained and he's not hiding it. He and Dally both watch as I lean back in the cheap white lawn chair and blow smoke up into the night sky.

The door is cracked now and we can hear yelling inside but no one jumps. This is the second party I've been to that Dale has hosted. I'm more used to it than I thought. Where is Dale anyway?

"What were you doing with my brother last night?"

"Ask him."

"I did. He won't tell me."

"Good."

Dally doesn't sit down though he looks tired. He has a beer in his hand but I can tell by the way he sweats and his words that it's not his first. He leans against the brick wall and just stares at me like he can move me with his mind.

"I'm not leaving," I say. "We're having a conversation so why don't you leave? Plenty of pretty girls inside just waiting for the latest Dally lie and flattery."

He smirks. "Why? So you and Doogie can have a romantic evening under the stars? Oh how romantic. Excuse me from ruining it. I know just how you like the mood to be right before you, you know."

I scowl but Doogie laughs and he finishes off his beer.

"Leave. It's after midnight. You don't belong here."

There are more screams inside and that tells me I should move but I don't. There are animals moving near us in the woods but I only watch Dally. I stare at his smooth face and muscle tone and the way he stands with so much confidence and something inside me burns but it feels good. Soft almost.

I shake my head and the thought away.

"I'll drag you. You know I will."

I take another hit before I stand up, just to enjoy the way his face twists in a knot when I do.

I brush myself off, passing Dally but saying before I leave, "Darry's fine, thanks for asking." I turn my head. "Thanks, Doogie."

"Hey, Danni," he calls.

"Yeah?"

"William," he says. "It's William."

Soda doesn't say anything as he pulls up in the truck and I climb in. We drive down the road and he turns the radio on and lets me pick any station I want. There's no one on the roads at this hour. It's just the two of us.

After a little while, he pulls into a McDonald's and gets two milkshakes. He still doesn't say anything as he gives me mine. He got chocolate and I got strawberry and it tastes like the best thing I've ever consumed.

He takes the long way home. I finish my milkshake before we pull into the driveway.

"Are you ok?" He turns to me to ask. He makes eye contact for the first time but I know he didn't need to to know what was going on with me. He knew when I called.

I swirl the straw around in the bottom layer of the melted ice-cream. "Yeah. Can you...can we keep this between us?"

He nods a little and I get out of the car. The crisp spring air takes me by surprise. I take in the smell of freshness and flowers. Spring came without a word and I missed it. Summer's coming...and that scares me. Prom is coming and that horrifies me.

"Thanks for getting me," I say as I wait for him to open the door. No one's home inside. I don't ask where Pony is because he's supposed to be home, but I should have.

Soda turns to me again once we get inside. "I want the truth. How do you feel?"

"Right now?" I ask. "I feel lost. I guess. I feel like something's missing. I just don't know what. Sort of empty."

"Empty how?"

I shrug. "Just empty. Like there's something not there."

"Like what?"

"If I say it, then it's true, and frankly, I don't want it to be."

After Jesus and Rock N Roll. Couldn't save my immoral soul, well. I've got nothing left. I've got nothing left to lose. Callin' out sins just to pass the time. My life goes by in the blink of an eye. I know you want me. I was only lookin' for a friend.

A/N: Please excuse any mistakes. This wasn't finalized until a few moments ago.

I'm sorry I made you wait for such a slower chapter but I PROMISE there is tons of action in the rest of these chapters.

Thank you for reading and please review!