Blowin' Smoke

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Chapter 8

Ponyboy's POV (January, 1968)

"Two-Bit, I swear, if you don't shut up I will come over there and personally beat the tar outta you."

"Try it, hop along," Two-Bit sassed.

I glared. There really wasn't much wrestling I could get into while I was still on crutches. Maybe once I got my boot on I would be able to kick his butt. The doctor told me I would get out of this stupid cast in four more weeks, but then I would be in a walking boot for three more weeks. Stupid Soc.

Actually, stupid Two-Bit. He. Would. Not. Shut. Up.

I groaned loudly. I had piles of homework to catch up on, an entire book to read for English by the end of this week, and a math test to study for. On top of all of that, my head was pounding and it felt like it was on fire. I thought I might be getting sick, but I didn't want to tell Darry; he would just worry. Plus, I needed to go back to school tomorrow as planned. I was already way too behind; it would be a miracle if I passed this quarter.

If I could ever get my homework done over Two-Bit's yapping and his stupid Mickey Mouse, maybe I could actually pass.

"Two-Bit," I begged.

"You're no fun," he complained.

"Kieth Matthews, if you let me finish my homework, I'll do something with you tonight," I promised.

"Deal!" He agreed happily. Suddenly, the pain in my head flared up and I couldn't help but grab my temples.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," I tried to stand up and get my crutches, but I started to get dizzy. My head felt like it was on fire and had a drum banging inside of it all at once. Strong hands found their way on my back.

"Sit down, Ponyboy, or you're going to pass out." Two-Bit eased me back onto the couch before fetching me a thermometer.

"I'm okay, Two-Bit, I just stood up to fast."

"No, you ain't," Two-Bit cut me off before I could defend myself anymore. "Your sick. Here," he handed me the thermometer and begrudgingly I stuck it in my mouth.

When it beeped, Two-Bit pulled it out before I had a chance to. "I'm calling Sodapop."

Soda was at work at the local grocery store. It wasn't much, but the job helped take some stress off Darry.

"Don't, Two-Bit. How high is it?" I didn't want Soda getting in trouble at work because of me.

"101.8," Two-Bit responded.

"That's not bad," I tried to reason, but he wasn't having it.

"It is when the Doc said anything over 100 is serious and you've been popping aspirin all day. Save it, kid, I'm calling Darry or Sodapop, you take your pick."

"...Soda," I grumbled finally. If I was being totally honest, a small part of me was kind of glad Two-Bit was calling Soda.

I felt terrible. My head wouldn't let up, every broken bone or bruise in my body seemed to be on fire, and I was extremely dizzy, even though I was just sitting. And I really, really wanted some water, but the kitchen was too far away.

I heard Two-Bit talking in a low voice on the phone, but I tried to tune him out. I closed my eyes, trying to drown out some of the pain. I must have fallen asleep because all of a sudden I felt someone grab my hand.

"Hey, Ponyboy, how ya feelin?" Soda drawled affectionately, worry taking over his features when I finally cracked open an eye. Just opening my eye took too much energy. Energy I didn't have.

"Soda," I groaned, unable to hide the pain anymore. "It hurts."

"I knows it does, baby. Two-Bit, we need to get him to the hospital."

"Do you think you can stand?" Two-Bit asked me, but his voice sounded far away.

"No," everything was coming out in just a groan of pain. I couldn't even move my head. All of a sudden I felt the world move from beneath me, and I felt warmth radiating off someone. I think Soda had given up and just decided to carry me to the car.

"You need to put some weight on, kid," I heard Sodapop mumble. I tried to respond, but I was too tired. I never felt anyone put me in the truck; I just fell right asleep, too exhausted to care anymore.

Sodapop's POV (January, 1968)

My leg bounced wildly. I had every nail on my hand bit down until they were almost bleeding. I had drank three Pepsi's and eaten two candy bars just for something to do, and we had only been waiting an hour. Sixty minutes of pure torture, not knowing what was wrong with my baby brother or if he was going to be okay.

If a doctor didn't come and talk to us soon, I was going to march my way into one of those rooms and find the doctor myself. It was cruel to keep us waiting so long without answers; I was going crazy with worry.

"Family of Po-... Pony-... Ponyboy Curtis?"

Darry stood up, ignoring the doctors stumbling, and shook his hand.

"How- How is he? How's my brother?" I couldn't help but blurt out.

"Ponyboy does have an infection the cut in the back of his head. It's good you got him here when you did. It could have gone into his bloodstream, but it didn't. When he came in his fever was up to 102.5, but we now have it lowered to 100.8. The thing that concerns me is his concussion is worse than we thought. There's swelling in his brain. We are going to keep him sedated and try to treat the swelling with medication."

My head swarmed. Swelling in his brain? I wasn't a doctor, but that didn't sound good.

"Can we see him, Doctor?" I heard Darry ask.

"Of course, just know he is on some pretty heavy sedatives, so he'll be asleep. He's in room 172."

"Come on, Soda," Darry encouraged, following the signs toward Ponyboy's room as I numbly followed.

Darry walked right in, but I hung back. I was so sick of seeing my little brother in a hospital. This was different than an asthma attack that landed him in a hospital, this was my fault and he could die. Before I knew it tears were slipping down my face and Darry had me engulfed in a hug.

"He'll be okay, Soda. It's okay."

"How do you know?" I asked through a sob.

"I just do. Ponyboy's strong."

He didn't look strong. He looked young and sick, laying unmoving in a hospital bed.

Oh Ponyboy, what did you get yourself into? What did I drag you into?

OoOoOoO

Silently, I stroked Ponyboy's hand, almost dozing off. To try to stay awake, I grabbed the coffee Darry had brought and took a gulp. I found straight black coffee repulsive, but I needed to stay awake.

The sight of my little brother's thin frame, cut up and attached to multiple machines (who's function I didn't even know) was heart wrenching. He looked so young. Shoot, he was young.

I had almost fallen asleep when Ponyboy's hand starting moving. My eyes shot open and when I saw what was happening, I wanted to squeeze them back shut. Ponyboy was shaking violently.

Oh my gosh he's having a seizure. Heneedshelpheneedshelp.

Before I could do anything, three panicked nurses ran into the room, one barking at me to get back. I did; not knowing what else to do. I wanted Darry, but he was on another coffee run.

The heart monitor started going crazy before it did something I never wanted to see.

Beep, beep... and then one long beep that sent my heart to the pit of my stomach.

The heart monitor flatlined for I don't know how long. Time just didn't seem real anymore. I thought I was going to pass out when I heard the nurse's next words.

"Time of death: 2:57 p.m.."

Stay Gold,

- Alee XxX