Gallant

Pony was moving as soon as his eyes opened.

The day before had been a waste, although he tried to tell himself that it didn't matter…that there was nothing he could have done about it. When his brothers had gotten home, Darry had tried to get him to eat dinner, but Pony had just buried himself deeper in the blankets, finally eating a couple of crackers and drinking some water before downing the pills he gave him. Darry had sat on the bed beside him for a while, surprising him when he put a hand on the back of his head and leaned in to get a good look at him.

"I'm going to take off tomorrow and take you to the doctor, alright?"

Pony had just nodded, his mind on his plan for the next day. It had seemed doomed to fail, but he didn't know what else to do.

"I should have taken you today."

He hadn't had the energy to argue. Instead, he'd just leaned his head against his brother's shoulder, surprising even himself. After a minute, Darry had wrapped an arm around him, rubbing slow circles on his back until he'd gone back to sleep, not even waking when Steve showed up, or when they got back from the rumble. He did wake up when they went to help Dally, though, and no matter how hard he'd pressed his hands to his ears, he'd still heard the gunshots.

Now he grabbed the change from his desk, pulled on a pair of pants and a shirt, and, after scribbling a note to Darry, he headed out. He had a checklist, and he had to tick every box. Don't wake up his brothers: done. Make sure to grab money: done. Get something to eat on the way: done. He stopped at a diner and made himself eat some eggs and toast and down some orange juice. Then, all he had left to do was go see Dally.

Despite all the time he'd had to plan the day before, he still had no idea how he was going to convince Dally to live. He couldn't exactly tell him the truth. Besides, trying to convince Dally to do something he didn't want to could be dangerous on the best of days, and he remembered all too well how Dal looked after finding out that Johnny wasn't in good shape. Then again, he thought, it wasn't like he didn't have plenty of chances to try and figure it out.

Just that thought made his chest hurt.

No…he wasn't going to think about that. He was going to go to the hospital and talk to Dally and then maybe everything would be okay.

He caught the bus, staring out the window as he crossed town and wondered if anyone else in the town had noticed that they were living the same day over and over. No one he saw out the window or on the bus seemed confused or upset…and none of the guys had noticed. Hell, his own brothers hadn't even noticed. It seemed impossible that Soda, who knew him better than anyone, and Darry, who seemed to know just about everything, could somehow be unaware of this.

Dally wasn't in intensive care, so Ponyboy was able to go straight up to his room, hesitating for a long time outside the partially ajar door before pushing it open. A quick glance at the clock by Dally's bed told him that it was only about half past seven. Walking a little further into the room, he sat down on the unoccupied bed beside his sleeping friend and winced when Dallas jerked awake at the noice. He wondered why there wasn't somebody in this bed…were the nurses too scared to give him a roommate? The thought made him smile a little.

Dallas Winston, the toughest hood he knew. Then again, what did he really know about Dal? His dad was an asshole that Dal avoided at all costs. He looked out for Johnny…and Pony too, he knew. He had a girlfriend that always cheated on him but he kept going back to her anyway. He had a rap sheet a mile long, and had just gotten out of juvie less than two weeks ago.

And in less than 24 hours, he'd be dead. Because Dally always got what he wanted.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dal asked, rubbing irritably at his eyes as he blinked at him from the hospital bed. "Jesus, kid, it's seven in the damn morning."

"Hey, Dal," he muttered, trying not to think about Johnny in the other room…about watching his friend die. About reading him a book and how it hadn't fixed anything. About an entire day spent in bed where Johnny hadn't seen him or Two-Bit before dying on his own in a hospital room without only Dally for company at the end.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Dallas asked then, and Pony wished it were anyone else he had to try and convince. This was insane, but if it were Soda or Darry, he might be able to get them to listen. Two-Bit too…even Steve. But Dally didn't really listen to anyone. Especially not him. "Kid?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, clenching his hands in his lap. He didn't know what to say. A full day of planning and he hadn't come up with much of anything. Dally wasn't like Sodapop. Hell, he wasn't much like any of their gang. He was rougher. Meaner. He didn't listen to nobody unless he wanted to. But Pony figured apologizing was a start.

"What?"

"For…for all of this. You and…and Johnny." His voice died a little on his friend's name.
"It's my fault."

Dally shook his head, rubbing a hand over his eyes and looking tired. "What? What's your fault?"

"You and Johnny being here. Getting hurt."

He huffed out a breath and dropped his head back on his pillow. "Shut up, kid. This ain't your fault."

"It is. I'm the one that got into it with Darry and ran off…"

"Ponyboy…"

"Johnny's gonna die."

He went still, breath catching, and when Ponyboy looked up at him, he was just staring, wide-eyed and angry. He didn't even care that he was just about crying in front of Dallas Winston. This probably wasn't even real! If it didn't work, then Dally wouldn't remember.

"It's my fault. He's gonna die and I don't know how to stop it."

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Johnny ain't gonna die!"

Pony almost laughed, lips twisted in a grimace. He'd already seen it! "Dal…" He stopped then, staring at him for a second as his head spun, grasping at the first idea that came to mind. "You should go see him."

Dally's eyes glittered, narrowing as Pony stood up, suddenly frantic, going with the only idea he had. Reading that book hadn't worked! Maybe this would! He just needed to make Dally understand! Would seeing Johnny help? Would seeing how bad off he was help Dally accept it?

"Dally, let's go see him! I know where his room is." He couldn't explain how he knew, but Dally didn't ask…didn't even move. "Dal…"

"What are you even doing here?" he snapped, sitting up and glaring.

"I…" That was impossible to explain. How did he get Dally to believe that Johnny had already died five times now…that he just wanted this to stop. "I wanted to see you guys."

"Does your brother know you're here?"

"I left a note."

"You…you left a note? Jesus, kid, are you trying to give Darry a heart attack or what? Him and Soda both…they're going to wake up to you gone again!"

"That don't matter! I just…I want you to go see Johnny, okay? Please?" He didn't think he'd ever said the word 'please' to Dallas Winstone…didn't think he'd ever begged him for anything. But he'd beg now. "Please, Dally. Just come downstairs with me. He doesn't have a lot of time."

Dally just stared at him, looking angrier by the second. Usually it was a real bad idea to make Dally angry, but at the moment, it didn't matter. Dally could get as mad as he wanted…he could even hit him. But he wasn't going to listen. Of course Dal wouldn't listen…he didn't listen to anyone. Why had Ponyboy thought he could make him? Ponyboy shook his head, feeling his heart drop.

"None of this matters," he muttered, running a hand over his face. "It ain't even real. I'm just going to have to do it again tomorrow."

"What the hell does that mean?"

He left the room, ignoring Dally's shout for him to come back…for him to explain what the hell he was talking about. Instead, he headed downstairs to where he knew Johnny's room was. He'd found out that all he had to do was look like he knew what he was doing and nobody really questioned him, especially since he hadn't greased his hair. Waiting for a nurse to pass, he slipped into Johnny's room and shut the door behind him, then took a seat at his friend's side, hiding his face in his hands and feeling the tears that had filled his eyes in Dally's room run down his cheeks now that he was in Johnny's.

How many times was he going to have to do this?

How many times would he have to watch his friend die without being able to stop it.

"Pone?"

He blinked back the tears and tried to smile. "Sorry…didn't mean to wake you up."

"I wasn't sleeping. What's wrong?" he rasped. "You and Darry get into it again?"

"No…no, we're fine." That may not be true for long considering he'd snuck out of the house, but who cared? It would all start over the next day anyway. He stared at his friend…really looked at him. Johnny looked awful. Pale and sick, all burned with wires attached to him. "How do you feel, Johnny?"

"I'm alright, man. What time is it?"

That was obviously a lie. Still, Pony answered him. "Almost 8."

"You by yourself?" he asked, somehow having the presence of mind to be worried about that.

"Yeah…took the bus." He smiled mirthlessly. "You know…Johnny…they wrote about us in the papers. Called us heroes."

"Man, we ain't heroes," Johnny laughed, then coughed, and for a second, Pony was afraid he was going to pass out. His face screwed up in pain, and Pony reached out without thinking, grabbing his hand.

"You know…you remember that book we were reading?" he asked, voice hoarse and scratchy as he tried to fight back the tears that wanted to keep falling. "Gone with the Wind?"

"Yeah, man," he muttered, looking confused, but Pony went on.

"The gallant gentlemen riding off…you said Dally was gallant. But you are too. You're gallant, Johnny…you're the best person I know. My best friend in the whole world."

He didn't scoff or brush him off or even make a joke…he just stared, wide-eyed, as Pony lost the battle to keep the tears from falling.

"I'm sorry I got you in this mess, Johnny," he whispered, squeezing his hand hard. "I'm so damn sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, Pony…"

"Yeah it was." He wiped at his face, feeling like a baby for crying when he wasn't even the one hurt. If he could just go back further, he thought desperately. If he could just go back two days instead of one, he could fix this! Hell, just a little bit less than two days…the fire. He'd never leave Johnny in the church. He'd ignore Dally shouting for him. He'd get Johnny out first!

But what was going back one day supposed to do? How was that ever going to help?

"I don't want you to die, Johnny" he whispered, choking on his words. "It ain't fair…" He dropped his head to the bed, not able to stop crying. He was so tired…so absolutely exhausted, and he didn't know how to fix this…didn't know how to make it stop! He couldn't save Johnny. He couldn't get Dallas to listen to him without making him think he was crazy…hell, he didn't care if Dally thought he was crazy! He just needed him to listen! But Dally wasn't going to.

Dallas Winston always got what he wanted.

When the door opened not too much later, Pony glanced up, hoping it wasn't a nurse or a doctor there to kick him out. He didn't know how to save Johnny, but the least he could do was spend some time with him before he died, especially since he hadn't even seen him the day before. But it wasn't a doctor or a nurse…it was Dallas.

"What the hell, kid? What are you doing?" he hissed, eyes glittering with the dangerous kind of fury. He was dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt he must have stolen from someone…either that or a buddy must have brought them to him at some point. Had Tim Shephard already been by? He couldn't remember. Dally's arm was still bandaged, and he had a bruise on his face, but otherwise, he looked just like he always did…like they could be anywhere and not right beside Johnny's death bed.

Pony looked up at Johnny then, wondering if the two of them could maybe talk…if Johnny could say something that might fix all this. But Johnny's eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling steadily under the sheet. "I was talking to Johnny," he whispered, not wanting to wake him. Maybe he could sleep more…sleep through the nurse trying to tell him that his horrible mother was here and sleep through the rumble and Dally telling him how they'd won and begging him not to die…sleep until this awful day was over.

That's all Pony wanted to do, after all.

When he looked back at Dally, he could see he wasn't just angry…he was afraid. Pony didn't think he'd ever seen Dallas Winston so scared. He honestly hadn't thought he even could be scared. He was Dallas Winston! Just his name was enough to make other people scared. But now, all of a sudden, he looked almost young. Like a scared, lost kid who'd gone through too much and who would be dead soon because he couldn't take one more thing.

"He ain't gonna die, you hear me?" Dally snapped, squeezing his shoulder hard and shaking him a little. "Johnny ain't gonna die."

Pony just shook his head, feeling so sad it hurt. "Just because you keep saying it doesn't make it true, Dal," he muttered. Johnny was going to die…soon. He didn't even have a full day left. And Pony couldn't stop it. He didn't even think he could save Dally…not now, anyway. Not when he refused to listen.

But, he realized all of a sudden, this wasn't the only time he saw Dally today.

Dallas grabbed his arm then, half dragging him out of the room, then shoved him against the wall. Pony barely felt it, mind racing. He would see Dally later…at the rumble and then…

"What's your problem? Huh?"

Pony just stared at him for a second, pulled rudely out of his planning, then shook his head, deciding to try this approach one last time. "He only has a few hours left," he told him, speaking softly and hoping no nurses or doctors or big guys ready to drag them out of the hospital came along. "You ought to sit with him."

Dally had that look on his face and he knew he ought to stop talking but he couldn't.

"Talk to him, Dal…he's gonna die after the rumble tonight."

Pony barely felt the fist that smashed into the side of his head, knees buckling as he dropped, head suddenly hurting so much worse.

"What the hell's the matter with you? Huh?" Dally all but shouted, hands clenched into fists.

Swearing under his breath, Pony jerked back when Dal went to grab him again, but he stopped at the last second, giving Ponyboy one last disgusted look before he stormed off. Closing his eyes, Pony dropped his head against the wall, head spinning.

Maybe it wasn't too late.

Maybe this idea would be the one…

A nurse found him there on the floor outside of Johnny's room. One minute he was trying to work out the logistics in his head, the next a woman was touching his arm and asking him quietly and urgently if he was alright. Eyes flying open, he realized that he must have been sitting there for a long time. "Honey?" she asked, tone making him realize that she must have asked before. "Are you alright? Do you need me to call someone?"

"I'm fine," he assured her, not sure how true that was, but knowing there was nothing she could do about it. "Sorry…I was visiting my friend…"

She glanced at the door he was sitting across from, frowning. "Johnny Cade?"

"Yeah…I came in with him. We were both in that fire."

She nodded slowly. "I see."

He didn't tell her who'd hit him, even though she must have been wondering. She had to know that he'd been punched in the face pretty recently. After all, Dal's fist had certainly left a mark, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was figuring out how to be at the right place at the right time. So he pulled himself to his feet, assuring her that he was fine, then headed out to catch a bus back to his neighborhood.

He'd almost forgotten about the punch in the face by the time he got to the DX. He didn't need to see Soda…he was pretty sure visiting his brother wasn't going to change anything. But he wanted to see his brother. So he walked into the store, not sure if Soda would be in there or out back, only to find himself face to face with Steve who hurried out from behind the counter as soon as he saw him.

"What the hell, kid?" he demanded, and for a second he thought his brother's friend was going to chew him out for leaving and freaking his brothers out, but he was looking at him with something like concern as he hurried over, and Pony abruptly remembered his face.

Right.

"Hey, where's Soda?"

"Out back. What happened to you? Who did that?"

If Pony didn't know better, he'd have thought that Steve was getting ready to go avenge him. "Dally."

"Dally?" he repeated, shaking his head like he might have misheard. "What the hell did you do to piss off Dally?"

"I told him Johnny was going to die."

Steve just stared at him, wide-eyed, then shook his head, swearing under his breath. "Yeah, that'll do it. Come on. Soda's worried sick about you. Two-Bit told Darry he'd go find you…he's probably halfway to the hospital now. Jesus, kid, you can't just wander off on your own. Don't you know that by now?"

Pony didn't bother explaining himself. He just followed Steve to the back of the store where the garage was, grinning a little when he spotted Soda who dropped the tool he was holding the moment their eyes met.

"He's fine. Just pissed Dally off," Steve put in, pushing Pony towards his brother who hurried over, trying to get a good look at his face.

"Damn it, Pony…why'd you leave like that?" he demanded, gripping his shoulders hard. "You scared us to death, you know that? Darry about skipped work to go get you!"

"Sorry…I wanted to see Johnny."

He deflated a little at that, nodding and pulling him into a half hug. "You okay?"

"Sure," he told him, which was the biggest lie he'd told in a while.

"Darry's gonna be pissed at Dal. He ought to know better than to go after you like that." Soda shook his head. "What did you say to him?"

"It don't matter," Steve hurried to put in. "The kid's fine. Now you can stop screwing up cars left and right."

Soda left Pony's side to shove his friend and the two of them started wrestling. Pony found himself smiling a little, wishing that things could be okay. Part of him wanted to stay…to watch Soda work and spend the day with him and not thinking about all the awful stuff that was about to happen that he had to try and stop. But he couldn't just hang around the DX all day, and not just because he was sure Steve would only put up with him for so long. Soda was busy. And if Pony acted like something was wrong, it would just distract him more. So Pony headed home not too much later, telling Soda he'd see him when he got home.

Someone must have gotten a hold of Two-Bit and told him that Pony was fine because he showed up at their house around lunch time, eyebrow raised as he took in Pony on the sofa. "You know, I've been chasing you all over God's green earth and here you are, sitting on your living room couch."

"Sorry, Two." Pony tried to grin. He'd flipped the TV on but wasn't watching it, and in his lap was a book he wasn't reading. He couldn't focus…he'd started feeling bad again and wondered if it was just inevitable that he would feel bad today or if he needed to eat something.

"You alright, kid?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He'd held a bag of frozen peas to his face as instructed by Soda and when he'd looked in the mirror a few minutes ago, the bruise on the side of his face didn't look too bad.

Two-Bit didn't look like he believed him, but he didn't argue. "Alright. Your brother told me to feed you, so come on. Let's go get something to eat."

So Pony spent the rest of the afternoon with Two-Bit, eating lunch and then heading back to his house to watch TV together, but he wasn't focusing on any of it…instead, he was trying to come up with a plan. He didn't know which convenience store Dally robbed…and there was no way he could follow him on foot. It wasn't like Dally was going to give him a ride after he blew up at the hospital. He could guess that it would be on their side of town, and that it was close to their house, but Pony didn't know any of that for sure. He'd spent that time wandering around the streets. Honestly it was a wonder no one had hit him with their car. But he knew where Dally would be at the end of it.

So he knew where he needed to be when the time came.

When it was about time for his brothers to get home, he absentmindedly started on dinner, making spaghetti and heating up the frozen peas he'd been using for his face. They'd had chicken every other night, and he was almost as sick of that as he was of bologna. When Darry got home, he didn't yell at him for leaving the house without telling anyone that morning, but he did look mad when Pony told him that Dally had been the one to hit him. Instead of scolding him though, Darry just patted him on the back and thanked him for making dinner. The three of them were about halfway through their meal when Pony finally spoke up right as Soda finished telling them a story about a car he'd been working on.

"I ain't going to the rumble."

Both of his brothers just stared at him, wide-eyed. It hadn't been hard to say, which kind of surprised him. Before, he would have been too terrified to even consider saying something like that, even if he hadn't wanted to fight. But now the words just came out and he took another bite of pasta.

"What do you mean, Pone?" Soda asked after a minute.

He looked up at his brother, feeling oddly tired and older than he should. "I ain't fighting."

"Why not?"

Darry was surprisingly quiet as he, too, waited for an answer.

"Because it's stupid and I'm not doing it anymore."

Neither of them seemed to have an answer for that.

It wasn't like they'd ever forced him to fight. He was pretty sure that if Darry had things his way, none of them would ever have to fight in rumbles…they would live somewhere better, where stuff like this didn't matter so much. But Pony was sick of fighting that same fight over and over. Even when he wasn't reliving the same day, he realized with a flash of clarity, it was the same fight. Rich kids doing something to piss them off, or vise versa, and they fought, and nothing ever changed.

He wasn't doing it anymore. Especially not this rumble. He'd fought this fight enough.

"Are you feeling okay?" Soda asked after a minute, voice hesitant.

Pony thought about it. It didn't matter if he lied, but he guessed there was no point. "My head hurts. I think I'm getting sick."

Darry reached over then, pressing his hand to Pony's forehead. "Yeah…you feel pretty warm, kiddo. Why don't you take some Aspirin after dinner and go lay down for a while? We'll clean up."

That sounded perfect to him.

Afraid of falling asleep, Pony kept his eyes wide open, staring out into his dark bedroom and listening to the guys as they came inside and talked to his brothers. He heard his own name a few times, but surprisingly, neither Steve nor Two-Bit called him a coward for not wanting to fight. Instead, they asked if he was alright and then got right back to hyping themselves up for the big rumble.

He got up when they left, waiting until he heard their retreating voices down the street, then opened a drawer in his desk, hunting until he found an old watch that thankfully still worked. Strapping it onto his wrist, he paced back and forth in his room, sick and full of a nervous energy he couldn't explain. He didn't want to believe this could work…didn't want to get his hopes up. But he couldn't help it.

When he figured the rumble was about over, he crawled back into bed, still fully dressed. It wasn't too long before their front door opened and closed softly behind his brothers and the guys, and he pulled the blankets over his head, making his breathing even and slow. He couldn't mess this up…he had to try and do everything right if he wanted it to work. So when one of his brothers came into his room and pulled the blankets back, a cool hand resting on his forehead, he just focused on pretending to be asleep until then tucked the blankets around him and squeezed his shoulder, shutting the door behind them.

Pony waited until he had about ten minutes before Dally called. He had to have enough time to sneak over to the lot, but not so much time that one of his brothers might check on him again. Heart racing, he sat up, opening his window as quiet as he could and checking the bedroom door, straining to hear footsteps in case someone had heard and was coming to check on him. Hearing nothing, he pulled the blankets back over the pillow, then climbed through the window, landing easily on the grass.

This would work. It had to.

He shut the window behind him, sneaking across the lawn and out the front gate, not stopping until he made it to the street. From there, he could see his brothers and what was left of their gang sitting together in the living room, nursing bruised knuckles and broken ribs.

Johnny was already dead.

But maybe Dally didn't have to die tonight.

He was going to grab his friend. Push him down and stop the cops from killing him. Dally would probably still get arrested, but if this worked, that time in juvie would give him time to think…time to cool off. Their best friend would still be dead but maybe, given some time, Dally might be alright! Maybe he'd get out of juvie and he'd still pal around with them and be okay, and Pony could finally move on with his life.

Or maybe he'd hate Ponyboy forever. Either way, he'd be alive.

So he ran to the lot, pressing his back to the brick building on one side and trying to calm his breathing, praying that no one could see him just yet. He would save Dally. He'd grab him and push him into the lot and try to hide him or let him get arrested…anything to stop those cops from shooting him. And then maybe this day would finally be over!

He didn't have too long to wait there in the quiet darkness of the lot where all of his problems had started. As soon as he heard the sirens and the sound of someone approaching fast, he raced to the edge of the lot, quickly spotting Dally. As soon as Dallas got close, Pony grabbed him, spinning him around and trying to push him into the lot. This was his chance! All he had to do was get Dally to stop running and turn himself in! Throw away the unloaded gun and give all this up! Staring into Dally's wide, stunned eyes, he tried to explain as quickly as he could. "Dally, stop! You don't…"

The gunshots rang out then, and Dally stared at him, eyes too big as Pony's hands on his arms went from restraining to grasping, his knees giving out before he could figure out what was happening. His first thought was that he hadn't been fast enough…that they'd shot Dally anyway, and he'd have to try again the next day. He could plan better…come out faster! Find the convenience store Dally robbed and…he realized that Dally didn't look hurt, and when Pony looked down at him, there wasn't blood on his clothes.

So…so what had happened?

Why were they kneeling?

"Dal?" he asked after a moment when the world was suddenly too silent, a coppery liquid filling his mouth and running down his chin.

Dally shook his head, pulling his arms away and dropping the bag and the gun he'd been holding, grabbing Pony's shoulders instead, shaking him a little. "No…no, no, no…kid, don't…Ponyboy don't you fucking dare!"

"Pony?" Soda's shout seemed to come from far away as a group of people sprinted towards them, and Pony knew it was his brothers and the gang. Dally had called them…he'd wanted them to hide him. Pony had tried to get there first…what had he done wrong?

"What the fuck is wrong with you? He's just a kid!" If Pony hadn't been so stunned, he might have been surprised to see Dally crying again as he screamed at the cops. But as he held him up, he was more gentle than Pony had ever seen him, a hand going to the back of his head as he met Ponyboy's eyes with his own red-rimmed ones. Hadn't Dally punched him in the face this morning?

"Kid, you stay with me, you hear? You fucking stay with me." He all but pleaded, voice shaking in a way he hadn't heard since the two of them had been in that car on their way to see Johnny the first time he'd done all this.

Pony went to nod, but his head just fell forward when he couldn't hold it up anymore, his forehead knocking against Dally's.

Someone was grabbing him then, pulling him into their arms, and Pony didn't even have to open his eyes to know it was Darry, one hand pressing hard against his back. "Pony? Hey…come on, kiddo. Open your eyes, okay? Please, baby…" he begged, and Pony didn't think he'd ever heard his big brother beg for anything. He made himself open his eyes, the blood that kept filling his mouth dripping down his chin and probably onto his shirt.

"Call an ambulance you assholes!" Steve screamed from somewhere a few feet away, and Pony blinked slowly, trying to stay focused on his brother. Was this right? Was this what he was supposed to do? Was this how he was going to save Dally?

If he died, would he get to see Johnny again? Would he get to see his parents?

"Come on, little brother. Talk to me," Darry urged with a smile that did nothing to hide how terrified he was. He was crying, and that sight alone…the sight of his brother doing his best to comfort him while his own world was ripped apart, felt like it might break him.

Then Soda was there too, kneeling on his other side, a hand touching his cheek, his whole face crumbling as he sobbed. "Pony? Honey, you're going to be okay. Just hold on." Soda's other hand gripped his, and Pony tried to squeeze it back…but he was so tired. He was always so tired. "Please…please, hold on for just a minute…please…honey…"

"Sorry, Darry…Soda…sorry…" he choked out, managing to curl his fingers weakly over Sodapop's. He needed to explain…he hadn't meant to get shot…hadn't meant to put them through this, even if it wasn't real. Slowly, his eyes started to close, and this time he didn't fight it.

"No…no, honey, it's okay. You're okay," Soda told him, tripping over his own words as Darry rocked him, obviously knowing what Pony did. "You gotta stay with us, okay? They called an ambulance. They…they called for help, Pony. It's okay." He spoke desperately, smoothing Ponyboy's hair back.

Darry gathered him up then, strong arms holding him against his chest, whispered feverishly like a prayer, his voice barely audible over the sound of someone screaming. "No…no…please…please not him too, please!"

Pony wondered if whoever had heard him would hear Darry too.

He managed to open his eyes again and saw Steve watching them with wide-eyed horror, tears running down his cheeks as he shook his head. He saw Two-Bit on his knees, crumpled with one hand pressed to his mouth, the other a fist slamming against the wet pavement again and again, his face still bleeding from the rumble.

And then Dally…Dally was bent double, ranting and screaming at the cops who were all just standing there, his hands fisted in his hair. Pony wanted to apologize to him too, but he had to sleep…he had to sleep and wake up and do it all again. Right? Wasn't that what he did now?

Or had he saved Dally? Had he finally ended it?

"Pony? Ponyboy!" Soda called, and Darry lowered him back down into his lap, their eyes meeting for just a moment.

"Sorry…love you," he whispered to his brothers who just stared down at him, tears pouring down their cheeks as the sound of a siren came closer. It wasn't fair…it wasn't fair that they had to go through this! Not on top of everything else. But for some reason he didn't think it actually mattered…none of it. "Don't worry…it's not real."

Soda closed his eyes, sobbing as he bent double over him, and Pony managed to grip Darry's hand one last time before the whole world went dark.

Thank you for reading!