Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own "The Outsiders" or any of the Curtis' Gang. Sigh. The real owner of "The Outsiders" is my favorite author, the fabulous S.E. Hinton. I also do not make a profit from the stories that I write here on this site.

A/N: Epilogue

Steve's POV

What did I do, what did I do, I chanted to myself. How could I have been so stupid?

My father was out at some bar, so I decided that I needed something to help drown out the pain. I went into the bare cabinets and pulled out a bottle of my fathers's whiskey. I wanted to forget my stupid choices. Soda would never forgive me.

Even after I drank the whole bottle I wasn't finished. I grabbed a beer and starting drinking that, all judgement thrown out the window. I suddenly heard my dad's booming voice even through my drunken state.

"Steve Allen Randle?! What are you doing with my beer?!" He bellowed. He screamed profanities at me that would make Dallas Winston blush.

I didn't even see the blows coming.

Without warning, he needed me in the stomach. I felt like puking, but I tried to stand. He kicked me with his work boots on and I went sprawling. He threw the empty whiskey bottle at me. I ducked just in time, but the glass shattered and rained down on me. I tried to pull the glass out of me, but my father wasn't done and I was unable to block the punches and kicks.

Bloodied and bruised, I tried to lump out the door.

"Get out of here!" He screamed at me. Like a puppy I ran out the door.

I collapsed on the sidewalk and vomited. I sobbed in pain and realizing I had nowhere to go. I was a lost and homeless puppy, the Curtis's were my only refuge and I couldn't dare show my face there again.

I think I broke my nose and possibly sprained my ankle, along with cuts in my head, neck, and back from the glass and I know that I bruised my ribs. Sure enough, I lifted my shirt and they were already black and an ugly, dark bluish-purple color.

"Steve?" I heard a make voice call in sup rise and curiosity. I turned my head and saw Two-Bit in his old car. Without needing an explanation he signaled for me to get in his car.

I closed my eyes and felt the car twist and turn until it stopped. When I opened my eyes I saw that we were right in front of the Curtis's house.

A/N: I so almost ended it there, but I won't…

I tensed up immediately. Two-Bit helped me out of the car and into the Curtis' house.

"Steve. You know you can come here anytime, right?" Darry asked in a gentle voice while pulling out the first aid kit. Out of the corner of my vision I saw Pony on the couch with Soda who was nodding. Pony just sat on the couch tense and looking away.

Darry cleaned my cuts and my nose, which he set back into place. My ankle wasn't sprained, but it was pretty swollen so Darry told me to put it up and I could lay on the couch. Pony got up and got me blankets.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to Ponyboy after everyone else left.

"Yeah, Soda told me you apologized. Look, I'm not sure what to think right now. I'm sorry I annoyed you that bad, but I'm sorry too. I forgive you."

"It was jealousy. Me and Soda, we are never gonna be brothers. I guess I was just scared," I told him. He laughed.

"Get the word out, a hood just admitted he was scared." He stuck his tongue out at me.

I threw my pillow at him.

"Night kid," I said after he graciously gave me back the pillow.

"Night, Steve-o," he responded, using my most hated nickname.

X

That morning I was sore and totally hungover. I felt sick to my stomach and I thought my head was going to explode. And to top it all off, Soda told me that he wanted to talk.

"Pony and I talked last night, I don't want to lose you Steve," he told me.

"I don't want to lose your friendship either. I'm so sorry, Soda," I told him.

"I forgive you," he told me. I wrapped him in a hug.

"Thank you, Sodapop."

A/N: This is the ending! Thanks for reading. I will thank all the reviews tomorrow, I want to give people a chance to review so I can thank them too.