"What's wrong?" Two-Bit asked.

"I stood on a damn rusty nail, that's what's wrong!"

"SODA!" I screamed.

Soda came running around the corner with Steve right behind him, he crouch down in front of me, next to Two-Bit, "What's the matter, Pony?"

"S-soda," I repeated, unable to help the whine in my voice.

"Honey, what's wrong?" He asked, sounding more concerned.

I showed him my foot, his eyes widened and he paled slightly. "Shit, ok... umm, Pony lets get you inside and out of those wet clothes."

He placed an arm around my upper back, then slid his other arm underneath my knees, lifting me up into his arms. He carried me into the lounge, placing me down on the worn in sofa, then pushed the coffee table closer towards the couch, and placed my left foot up onto the flat surface of the low table. The pain in my foot was kicking in big time, and I could feel a slight ache in my knee and wrist now. I guess the adrenaline was starting to wear off.

Soda returned, having with him the first aid kit, a couple of towels and a change of clothes. He placed one of the towels under my foot.

"Soda, we'll just be out on the porch if you need us," Steve said, as they headed for the door. I guess to give us some space.

"Ok, Steve."

Soda turned back to me, "Kiddo, take your wet top off." I did as I was told, then he handed me a towel. I dried myself off, as he passed me a dry top to put on.

As I was pulling the top over my head, Soda crouched down in front of the coffee table, and took a firm hold of my left ankle. "Baby, I need you to relax for me. I have to pull the nail out."

"No! N-no, Soda!" I could feel myself start to panic, and pulled and twisted my foot, trying to get out of his tight grasp. The pain had set in fully now, my foot was throbbing, and excruciating.

"Shhh..." he hushed, "Just settle ok, it'll only take a second," he said, trying to still me.

"S-soda... please don't. Just leave it... it hurts." I begged, still trying to break free. Soda looked across at me, and sighed; from his expression, he knew the great deal of pain I was in, and I knew he was only trying to help. He came and sat down on the cushion beside me instead - for comfort - and placed his arm around me, as I leaned into him.

"I know it hurts, kiddo... but it'll hurt more if it doesn't come out."

I gave a sulky groan.

"It's alright," Soda tried to reassure me, before calling out to his best friend. Steve opened the screen door, walking in.

"What's up, Soda?"

Soda pulled me tightly into his chest, and mouthed something to Steve. I had a fair idea what it was though. I could feel my heart slowly pumping faster, as I waited. I knew what Steve was about to do, and knew I wasn't gonna like it. It was gonna hurt.

Soda grabbed my slightly sweaty, trembling hand, and I held on tight. Then I felt his hot breath on my ear, as he whispered comforting words to me.

"S-soda?" I said quietly, my voice shaking slightly.

He hugged me tighter. "Shh..." he hushed softly, "It's ok, I'm here," he whispered.

I felt Steve's hand come firmly around my left ankle - this time I knew I wasn't going anywhere, not with the both of them holding me. I increased my tight grip I already had on Soda's hand, hoping I wasn't hurting him.

"Hold still, kid!" Steve warned.

"It's ok, baby... just relax. I'm right here." Soda's soothing voice repeated softly.

Then I felt the nail being ripped out from my foot, the pain purely like no other. I cried out, as I clutched deathly tight to his hand; with my breathing raggedly fast. I buried myself further into Soda's chest, and closed my eyes, letting the tears that'd been sitting at the corner of my eyes, slide down my cheeks.

"Shh... it's alright baby," Soda hushed again, "I'm right here, Soda's here."

Steve then proceeded to pull out his pocket knife, cleaning it with alcohol. "This might hurt a bit kid, but it's for your own good," he said, giving me a concerned glance.

He kept my ankle in a vice-like grip, then sliced a deep slit in the nail area of my heel with the knife making it bleed more - so he could flush out any leftover rust from the wound. I cried out in excruciating pain trying to get outta their hold. Soda tightened his grip on me, struggling to hold me still - let me tell you, it hurt like a son of a bitch.

Then he grabbed the bottle of alcohol pouring it over the cut. I was screaming bloody murder and now sobbing with tears running down my face; if Soda wasn't holding me, I would have jumped off the couch and been half way down the street by now.

My sobs were coming out in shaky gasps, and my whole body was trembling from the pain. Steve kept a firm hold on my foot, as the blood ran down my heel, turning the area on the white towel that lay under my foot a deep crimson.

"S-soda..." I sobbed, and swallowed hard, "S-soda..."

"I know, baby... I know it hurts," Soda soothed, running his fingers along my upper arm. "Shh, it's alright..."

I took a shuddering breath, and wiped my tears off on Soda's shirt.

Steve took a clean corner of the towel, and brought it towards my foot, pressing it firmly against the wound to try and control the bleeding. He had let it bleed for a good few minutes, to clean it out, but needed to stop the blood flow now.

My face remained buried in Soda's chest, but my sobs had died down. I had a constant sharp pain shooting through my right wrist, and worried I may have broken it. I sighed and closed my eyes, as I kept rested against him.

"Soda?" I whispered, quietly from his chest.

"Yeah, kiddo?" he asked, running his fingers through my hair.

"M-my - my wrist hurts, Soda... I think it's broken." I softly mumbled the last part.

"Give me a look, honey," Soda said. I opened my eyes to see him holding out his hand, waiting. I held out my right arm, and he took a hold of it, and gently felt around my wrist.

"Move your fingers," he instructed, and I did. I stretched them out, and wiggled them about.

"It ain't broken," Steve stated, as he watched me flex my hand. My eyes immediately shot to him, wondering how he was so sure. He noticed my skeptical glare. "For one, you wouldn't be able to move it like that. Here give me a look."

He roughly placed the towel around my foot, and came around the table over to the couch, then crouched down in front of me and Soda. He carefully took my hand from Soda, and felt around my wrist.

"Move your hand again," I did. Each time I moved it, a sharp pain stabbed my wrist, and ran down my arm.

"It ain't broken," Steve repeated, "It's just badly sprained."

"But, it hurts!"

"Yeah, it would," he said, looking at me, "but like I said, if it was broken you wouldn't be able to move it like that." He stood up, "I'm gonna get some ice," then left the room.

"You hurt anywhere else, kiddo?" Soda asked me, as we were waiting for Steve with the ice.

"Just my knee... but it's fine." Well... compared to everything else, it was fine.

"Show me?" I pulled up the leg of my jean, revealing a nice sized bruise to my left knee.

"Aww... kiddo," he winced, pulling me close to him again, and rubbed my back. Steve returned with an ice pack, wrapped in a tea towel, and placed it against my wrist.

"Steve, I'm gonna take Pony to the clinic."

"N-no Soda... I'm fine now."

"Pony, I need to take you to the doctors, you might need a tetanus shot. Steve can I borrow your car? You guys wait here incase we're not back before Darry."

"Yeah, here Soda." Steve tossed his keys to him. Soda gave him a thanks.

"I d-don't - I don't wanna shot Soda," I whined, as I watched Steve removed the towel from my foot, and rub some antibiotic cream on, then he wrapped a white cloth bandage around my foot. Soda knew how terrified I was of needles, ever since I was a little kid.

"I know baby, but you need to go. Trust me... you'll be in a lot more pain if you develop an infection, or something." Soda said, getting up from his spot on the couch, then lifted me into his arms again.

The drive wasn't a very eventful one. I didn't really feel up to talking 'cause my foot was hurting something awful, and I just didn't want to go to the doctors all together. I felt like... you know when you really don't want to do something, but your forced to do it - yep, well that's me right now. I'm scared of doctors always have been, it's the last place I wanna be, but you know... the funny thing is, I always seem to be here. I must be accident prone or something, 'cause I'm sure all the doctors at that clinic know me personally by now.

Soda constantly gave me a concerned glance. I tried ignoring his looks, but it was almost impossible. Instead I ended up just staring out the window, feeling sorry for myself.

We found a carpark, in front of the clinic building. Soda parked the car, then opened his door, he came around to my side opening my door, helping me out. I placed an arm across his shoulders, to lean on for support.

We approached the front desk, where an elderly woman in her late 60's was sorting through some paper work. She peered at us over the top of her glasses, that were perched on the end of her nose.

"Can I help you, boys?" she inquired rather flatly.

"Yes, ma'am. My brother here needs to see a doctor."

"Ok, well. I'll need you to fill in these paper work." She said, setting a clipboard with attached medical checks and a blank record for personal details. "Your welcome to take a seat while you fill them in." She stated, placing a black biro down on the first blank form in the clipboard.

"Thank you, ma'am." Soda said, taking the clipboard. We strolled to the long row of seats, sitting in a empty pair, and Soda made a start adding the required information in the blank spaces on the forms.

I was extremely nervous as we sat here waiting, to be called. My hands were clammy, and trembled at their own free will, and I felt sick to my stomach. Soda placed a gentle hand to my back, rubbing it softly, to try and calm me.

Finally, the nurse called my name. I felt glued to the seat, to scared to move; I wonder if they'd notice me sneaking the other way, out the door - I'd rather run, but I don't think my foot would allow that.

Soda noticed my hesitation.

"Come on, kiddo," he said, standing from his chair, then gave me a hand. I placed an arm over his shoulders again, leaning on him.

...

Bella Lilac