Hello everyone! I'm sorry that this chapter is a bit late...I was sick and then busy and then sick again lol. So I hope you enjoy the chapter! A huge thank you to everyone that has been reading and reviewing!
Nightmare
"Pony!"
The anguished cry pulled Ponyboy abruptly out of sleep and he jerked awake, eyes flying open as he looked around for whoever had called for him, his brain taking a moment to catch up to the rest of him.
Sodapop.
He was awake…why was he awake? What day was it? His brother was sitting up in bed beside him, just staring down at him with wide eyes. One of his hands clutched the blanket pooled in his lap while the other was pressed to his chest, and he panted like he'd just run a marathon, tears running down his cheeks.
"What…" Pony started to ask, grateful that he was still alive despite the multiple gunshot wounds, and then Soda was holding him, pulling him upright and sobbing into his shoulder. "Soda…what's wrong?" he asked, putting his arms around his brother on instinct. This wasn't normal, he realized with a sinking feeling. It was the same morning…he knew that much. If it had been the next day, he would be dead. But this wasn't how this morning went. He was supposed to wake up, and then Soda woke up a little while after him as long as Ponyboy didn't wake him up. Then he made breakfast and Two-Bit and Steve came in and Soda took a shower…it always went the same way if Ponyboy didn't do anything to stop it.
So why was it different all of a sudden?
"God…what a fucking nightmare," Soda whispered, making Pony go stiff.
Nightmare? Soda hadn't had a nightmare before…
"What?"
Soda pulled back just enough to look at him, one hand coming up to touch his face for a second just like he had the night before…the one that hadn't happened. In the dim light of the morning, tears poured down his cheeks, and he wiped the back of his hand roughly over his eyes. "You died," he whispered. "You were trying to help Dally…but they…the cops…they shot you!"
Ponyboy felt like his blood was turning to ice and he shook his head. No…Soda wasn't supposed to remember! Soda never remembered. No one did! "I'm fine, Soda. It was just a dream. It wasn't real." He smiled a little to himself as he repeated his own dying words to try and comfort his brother, but if anything, that just seemed to make him go paler, eyes huge as he stared at him.
"What?"
"It wasn't real," Pony repeated, smiling and trying to look like he wasn't freaking out. None of this had made sense before, but it somehow made less sense now. He'd saved Dally, but not only had it not worked, now the events of the day before had somehow leaked into Sodapop's dreams.
Soda just shook his head, then pulled him back into a tight hug, and it was like Ponyboy could still taste the blood in his mouth that had dripped down his chin…like he could still see Two-Bit sobbing on the ground, or hear Dally screaming in the background, calling the cops every name under the sun with tears dripping down his face, his fists ripping at his hair.
Their door opened then, and Darry poked his head in, pausing when he saw them. "Pony? You alright?" he asked softly, stepping into the bedroom, and Ponyboy guessed Soda yelling had woken him up too.
"Yeah…I'm fine," he murmured, squeezing Soda hard.
"You have one of those nightmares?" he asked, sitting on the bed beside them, and Soda choked out a little laugh, pulling away and wiping his eyes sheepishly.
"Nah…I did," he muttered.
Darry dropped a hand on Soda's shoulder, eyes widening in surprise. "Yeah? You okay?"
"Sure. Just…glory, what a dream."
Darry was quiet for a moment, and Pony got the feeling that he hadn't slept too well either, despite being tired the night before…well, what they thought was the night before. They'd been tired when they'd gotten home from the hospital…he remembered that much. Darry had carried him inside. How long ago had that been now? Five days? Six? But despite sleeping through the night, Darry had dark circles under his eyes and he looked like he wanted to crawl into their bed and sleep for a whole day…Pony could relate.
"Go on and get ready. I'll get breakfast started," Darry told them, patting Soda's shoulder and standing. "Pony, you feeling okay?"
He nodded. A lie. He felt the same as he did every day now…like he was coming down with something, and like the weight on his shoulders was getting a little heavier with each passing day. HIs brother didn't seem to believe him, giving him another once over before reaching out and touching his forehead.
"You feel kind of warm…"
"I'll get him some Aspirin," Soda offered, then hurried to the bathroom where they kept it.
Pony took the pills his brother brought him, then went and sat on the sofa, too tired to get ready or try and pretend he was doing fine. He needed to think. Trying to save Dally hadn't worked. Dally hadn't died the day before, but he was still repeating the day! So…what? Why was this happening? He couldn't save Johnny. Saving Dally didn't matter. What did the person or thing doing this to him want? Did it just want him to suffer? Did it want him to go nuts?
Was this even real?
What if it wasn't? What if he really was in a hospital for crazy people or something? What if he was lying in a hospital bed like Johnny, with Soda and Darry freaking out, worried to death about him? Or what if he'd died in that fire? What if he'd never gotten out and this was hell and he had to do this forever?
"Pony?" He jerked his head up, wide eyes meeting Darry's as his brother stared at him like he was a puzzle he just couldn't solve. Darry looked at him like that a lot lately…ever since their parents had died. It was either that or yelling. Darry didn't know how to talk to him and he didn't know how to talk to Darry. Out of all the guys, Darry was the most likely to know that this was all his fault…to put the pieces together and come up with the right answer. Darry was smart…the smartest person Pony knew, and used to, he was proud of having a brother as smart as Darry, but now he was just afraid. Darry was the hardest to trick…he always seemed to know everything. He could look at Pony and know something was going on.
But what if he wasn't even here? What if none of this was real? He knew that the day didn't have consequences…but what if none of it did? What if his whole life was just this forever? How long before he couldn't take it anymore?
"What's wrong?" Darry asked, putting a plate down in front of Ponyboy on the coffee table. He hadn't even seen the plate full of eggs with toast and bacon on the side…just the sight made his stomach growl.
Darry was a good cook, the best of all of them. He'd learned it from their parents and then he'd gotten better so Soda and Pony had real food to eat. He worked two jobs so they could stay together. He'd cried at the hospital all those days ago or yesterday and the week Pony had been gone because he'd been so afraid of losing another person he loved. Ponyboy knew all this. He knew who his brother was but he couldn't think of a single word he could say to him to make all of this make sense to him. Darry wouldn't believe it…he'd be scared, sure, and he'd worry. He'd probably find a way to get Pony in to see a doctor. Maybe have him committed, even if it would kill him to do it. But Ponyboy couldn't imagine a world where Darry would actually believe him. And that like to killed him, because all of a sudden, all he wanted to do was throw his arms around his brother and tell him everything and ask his brother to fix it.
There had never been a thing in the world his big brother couldn't do. But he didn't think Darry could do this.
Did he already know that all of this was Ponyboy's fault? Or would it click after Johnny and Dally both died?
"Nothing. Just tired," Ponyboy told him, dropping his eyes to the plate.
Darry hesitated, and Pony knew he didn't believe him…knew he wanted to push. But he had to eat breakfast and get ready for work and on this particular morning, they didn't have enough time for Pony to try and make this make sense. "Eat," he told him instead of pushing, but Pony knew what that really meant.
'I'm worried about you. I missed you. I don't know how to talk to you. I love you.'
If he ever got out of this, Ponyboy knew that he had to find a way to fix things with Darry. Even if his brother blamed him for all of it. Even if he hated him. He'd find a way to make things right again.
But first, he had to get out.
Two-Bit showed up right on schedule, Steve in tow, and Ponyboy tolerated their teasing with a tired smile, even laughing a little when Two-Bit went to mess up his hair. He kind of missed them on the mornings when he didn't see them, which was a surprise because he hadn't thought he'd ever miss Steve. Darry told Two-Bit to ease up like always when he wrapped an arm around his neck and dug his knuckles into his head, and Two-Bit relented, dropping beside Pony on the couch after grabbing a piece of cake from the ice box. He couldn't help remembering how Two had reacted when he'd died…how he'd slammed his fist into the pavement over and over. Or how Steve had cried. Neither of them acted like they'd had nightmares. In fact, they both seemed fine. The same as always.
Why had Soda been the only one to have a nightmare about it? Then again, Darry hadn't slept good either, but that could have just been because he'd missed Pony and he had to work when his brother obviously wasn't feeling good. Or maybe he was worried about Sodapop getting nightmares now. It was hard to remember that for them, yesterday hadn't happened. Or the day before. To them, he'd just gotten back from that church.
He got up from the sofa when he was done eating, passing Steve on his way to the kitchen. Soda's buddy already had chocolate on his face and Pony snorted, ignoring him when he demanded to know what was so funny, then approached Darry by the stove.
It didn't matter if Darry thought he was acting strange. None of this was real. But he needed to know.
"Dar?"
He turned from the stove, absentmindedly stirring Soda's eggs to scramble them. "Yeah?"
"Did you have nightmares last night too?"
Darry blinked at him, taken aback, then smiled a little, turning back to the stove. "Yeah. How'd you know?"
Pony didn't answer, washing his plate instead. So Darry and Soda both remembered. Of course, he didn't know for sure what Darry's dreams had been about, but he could guess. What did it mean? Did it mean anything? Was it something that could help him change things? If so, how?
Every time he thought he had an idea, it just turned out to be a dead end, and it took everything he had to keep trying…to resist the urge to just give up.
"It's probably because we were both worried about you all week," Darry told him, voice carefully conversational. Ponyboy nodded as if he'd asked a question. "Hey…"
He glanced up from his clean plate which he'd been washing for the third time.
"Look…Pony…I know that…" he dropped his eyes, obviously uncomfortable, and Pony had the crazy urge to just stop him. To assure him that heartfelt confessions were useless at this point because none of it was real. He didn't, of course, but he wondered how much longer he had before he went totally crazy and stopped caring what they thought altogether. Darry went on before he could guess. "If something like this happens again…if you get in trouble, I want you to come to me, okay? No matter what's going on, if we're fighting or…no matter what. Alright?"
Pony nodded, knowing that if he couldn't get out of this weird trap he'd found himself in, he'd never need to make good on this promise that didn't mean anything.
Darry tried again to stay home, and once more, Pony assured him he was fine. Two-Bit promised to babysit, and Pony even managed to roll his eyes at his offer. Still, Two-Bit stayed with him and, deciding to just play along with how things were supposed to go for the day unless he figured something else out, he agreed to go see Johnny. Once again, actually eating breakfast and downing a glass of orange juice had made him feel somewhat better, but he still asked to take the bus. He didn't think he could keep up this facade for Randy, nor did he want to.
He spent the whole bus ride trying to figure out what his next step would be, but it felt like he was just banging his head against a brick wall. He couldn't save Johnny. Saving Dally didn't matter. Him dying on accident didn't fix anything either, although he hadn't intended to test that hypothesis. Maybe he should try again to save Dallas…but there was too much he didn't know! He didn't know where Dally went after he left the hospital…after Johnny died. He didn't know which store he robbed. He couldn't follow Dally on foot and Dally sure as hell wasn't going to take Pony with him. Trying to stop him from leaving the hospital would probably just result in him losing some teeth before it all went the same.
"You feeling okay?" Two-Bit asked when they were just about to the hospital, and he glanced over at his buddy, that dark look of concern so familiar by now that it was almost weird to think of Two-Bit as being happy and carefree anymore.
"Head hurts," he told him, not having the energy or the will to lie. Who cared if Two-Bit took him home? He'd just lay down and hope that he could sleep the rest of the day away, and Pony had a sinking feeling that if he started doing that, he'd never want to stop. The thought hit him for the first time then, coming seemingly out of nowhere…dying on accident hadn't helped. But what if it wasn't an accident?
"Yeah? You want to go home?"
"Nah. I'll be alright."
Two-Bit hesitated, and it wasn't until they'd gotten off the bus and were making their way toward the front door of the hospital that he spoke again with the air of someone who fully expected to be ignored. "I don't think you ought to fight tonight, kid."
He gave a humorless laugh. "Probably not." He knew how it ended anyway. They won with or without him, so it wasn't like it mattered.
His buddy stared at him, wide-eyed, then seemed to get even more worried. "You tell your brothers you were feeling bad?"
"I took some Aspirin this morning," he told him instead of answering, and Two-Bit sighed, patting him on the shoulder and smiling a little.
"You know, we sure missed you, kiddo. It ain't the same without you around."
"Even Steve?" he asked with a grin.
Two chuckled. "He'd never admit it, but yeah. He was worried sick about you. We all were."
"I missed you guys too. Even Steve." It was true. Two-Bit was a good buddy…maybe the best one he had besides Johnny. Hell, Two-Bit had been ready to go to Texas to look for them. He couldn't help remembering again how Two-Bit had looked when he'd been dying. How his friend had sobbed on the ground…how he'd slammed his fist against the pavement until blood had dripped from his knuckles.
He hoped he never hurt his friend like that again.
They had to beg a nurse to see Johnny, but once more they were allowed back. Pony wished he'd thought to grab a copy of Gone with the Wind because Johnny asked for it again, but this time, he was the first to jump up. "I'll go grab a copy. I'll bet that corner store has one."
Two-Bit hesitated, obviously not liking the idea of him going off on his own, but after a minute of staring at him real close, he just nodded. "Yeah…alright. You need some money?"
He shook his head. Thankfully he'd thought to grab that change from his desk. "I'll be right back," he promised, knowing that by the time he got back, Two-Bit would have been kicked out of his room and Johnny would be unconscious. But maybe it would be good for Two-Bit to get to talk to Johnny. Besides, it still hurt to see his best friend hurt so bad, and it was almost a relief to get out of that room.
At the corner store, he bought a Pepsi that he downed, hoping that would help his headache, and a copy of the book he was sick to death of by this point. Still, as he was walking back, he opened it to the last page, staring down at the horrible last line where Scarlett vowed to get Rhett Butler back.
"After all, tomorrow is another day." He whispered it as he walked down the street, closing the book and clutching it so tightly his hand ached. Tomorrow was another day…another chance to try and get out of this trap he was stuck in…like a carousel he couldn't get off of. But tomorrow would just be the same until he figured it out…unless he never did. Would it end on its own? How many times would he have to do this before he lost his mind or finally got out?
Somehow he didn't think the answer would be a comfort either way.
When he got back to the hospital, just as he'd expected, Two-Bit was being ushered out into the hallway, his face a shade paler than before. Pony asked the nurse to make sure Johnny got the book, not sure what his friend would do with it but knowing he'd wanted it. It was the last thing Johnny would ask of him, apart from telling him to stay gold, whatever that meant. The least he could do was make sure he got it.
When they passed Johnny's mom, Pony sped up a little, not wanting to hear about how this was his fault. He already knew that. He was sure as hell paying for it too. Two-Bit paused for a minute when she started, but in the end, he just hurried after Pony, patting him on the shoulder once they stepped in the elevator.
"She's full of shit, kid. This ain't your fault," he told him, but Pony didn't believe him and he didn't care. Thankfully, Two-Bit let it drop.
In Dally's room, their buddy looked exactly the same as he always did…except when he caught sight of them, his eyes went wide. And Pony could tell from just his expression that he'd dreamed it too…he remembered somehow. But why? They'd never remembered before…why now? And why only Dally and his brothers? Why not Two-Bit or Steve?
"What's going on, Dal?" Two-Bit asked, trying to grin as he held out a hand that Dally hesitated before taking, seeming reluctant to tear his eyes away from Ponyboy. Two followed his gaze, eyes narrowing a little. "Dally?"
"Yeah, man…they won't even let me smoke in here. It's total bullshit." He glanced at Two-Bit, then back at Ponyboy. "Hey, kid."
Pony nodded hello, sitting on the other bed, not sure what the point of him being here was. He wished he could go to the library…he'd be able to focus there. To think of a plan. He wanted to write it all down and map it out and try to make it make sense. He knew the stuff that didn't work, but since he didn't even know the point of all this, it was hard to try and figure out what he needed to change.
"You alright?"
Dally's question took him by surprise, but he nodded anyway, trying to hide it. "Sure. You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, kid."
Not sure what else to say, Pony tried to fill the silence. "You see the paper?"
He shook his head.
"They're calling us heroes. Didn't even mention your rap sheet."
"Bastards," he muttered, but his heart didn't seem to be in it.
"What's going on, Dal?"
"Nothing, man. I just want to get out of here."
Pony wondered if it mattered…if dreaming about running from the cops and seeing Pony die (working from the assumption that he had actually dreamed it and wasn't just acting weird for some other reason) would change anything. Would Dally hesitate to rob that store now? Or would he be so upset that he wouldn't care? He thought about just asking outright, but that would require telling him that Johnny was going to die and he didn't think Dally would take that any better the second time he tried.
Then again, it didn't much matter if he hit him. Sure, Darry and Soda would be mad, but he doubted they'd have time to fight Dally over it before the whole day reset.
Talk turned to Johnny which turned to him asking for Two-Bit's switchblade, but before they could go, he called Ponyboy back, a weird look on his face as he stared at him. "You ought to stay home tonight, kid," he told him, seemingly out of the blue, but Pony ignored Two-Bit's lifted eyebrow and cocked head and nodded, wondering if his buddy was remembering how it had felt to hold him up, the two of them crashing to their knees in the street…if he was thinking about the blood that had dripped down his chin, probably getting on Dally's clothes.
Was there some other world where it was true, he wondered. Some other place where Darry and Soda were planning his funeral? Where Dally had watched two kids die that night?
"Yeah?" he asked, knowing he couldn't ask any of the other stuff.
"Yeah. You look like shit anyway."
Pony had to smile at that, snorting out a laugh. "Thanks, Dal."
"I mean it," Dally called when he turned to go, sounding almost scared, which was weird because Dally was never scared. "I'll tell your brothers too. You don't need to be in that fight tonight."
Nodding, Pony turned again to go. "Yeah, alright. I hate rumbles anyway."
Two-Bit bought them both burgers after they took the bus back to their side of town, and he wasn't sure if it was that or if it was their timing being off when they'd gone to the hospital, but Cherry wasn't in the lot. So they went back to his house, Pony crawling into bed once more. He still didn't have any answers, other than knowing that apparently if he died on accident, some of them would remember. Staring at the ceiling, he puzzled it over until his brothers got home, both of them quiet and worried when they found him in bed. Darry decided to take him to the doctor the next day, and Pony had to hold in his half hysterical laughter until they left the room.
His brother was nothing if not consistent.
He didn't even ask to rumble. Instead, he stayed in bed, telling his brothers he wasn't hungry. He thought about trying to save Dally again, but just the thought of hurting Darry and Soda like that made his stomach turn. Besides, he didn't think it even mattered. Did he have to survive and save Dally for it to work? If he did, he figured he could try in a few days when the memory of his brothers sobbing as they held him had faded some. It wasn't like he was short on time.
But Johnny was.
Once again, Pony waited for his brothers to return, Soda checking on him and then leaving when he thought he was sleeping, then climbed out of bed and then out the window. He knew it was dumb…he'd see Johnny again the next day and besides, every time he saw his friend, it was like a knife turning in his chest. His best friend was going to die. No amount of seeing it happen made it any easier. But he'd barely seen him the last couple of days. Dally would be there, but Johnny shouldn't have to die alone.
Besides, it wasn't like he had anything else to do for the rest of the night.
So he climbed on what was probably the last bus to that side of town, then headed straight for Johnny's room, ignoring the pitying look the nurse gave him when he asked to go in.
His friend was dying. Over and over, Johnny was going to die while Pony ran around trying to stop it…to end this horrible trap he'd found himself in. He wished he could talk to Johnny about it. He wished he could tell his friend the whole truth and that maybe Johnny might have some kind of answer. But he knew that was probably pointless. Johnny wouldn't know how to fix this any more than Dally would. So instead, he sat at his friend's side, eyes getting hot as he took him in. He still looked awful, and Pony thought that if he lived for a thousand more years, he'd never forget the sight of Johnny Cade dying in a hospital bed at only sixteen.
"Hey, man," Johnny rasped, trying to smile, but he was so close to the end he could barely talk. Pony reached out and grabbed his hand, careful not to squeeze too hard. Hot tears ran down his cheeks and he wondered if it would ever get any easier to see his best friend like this, then realized he hoped it didn't…he hoped he never got to a place where he could sit beside his dying friend and not feel anything.
"Hey, Johnny." He didn't ask if he was okay. He didn't ask how he was feeling. Those were stupid questions. Instead, he just talked. "I didn't fight in the rumble tonight. They won, though."
"Fighting…it's no good…"
"I know," Pony told him, nodding. "It's…it's stupid, you know? Our gang…we ain't like those other guys…real hoods. I don't want to be like them. I want to get out! Darry and Soda too, and the guys. And you. I want all of us to get out of here and…and do something real!" Johnny blinked, obviously having a hard time keeping his eyes open, but Pony knew he was listening. "I'm sorry, Johnny. I'm so sorry for all this. It was all my fault, and now you're…you're hurt and I can't figure out how to make it better."
Johnny looked older all of a sudden, and he smiled a little, his hand squeezing Pony's weakly. "Not…your…fault."
Ponyboy just dropped his head, his forehead landing on the bed beside his friend's shoulder. He hated it…he didn't want to be here! He didn't want to have to keep doing this! He didn't want Johnny to die alone or with just Dally…he didn't want Johnny to die alone but he didn't want to have to keep seeing it! It was like, no matter what he did, nothing ever made a difference!
But he was afraid to stop trying.
Dally burst into the room before too long, stopping short when he saw Ponyboy crying at Johnny's bedside. His mouth was bleeding and his eyes were wild and too bright just like before, but Pony didn't much care if Dally saw him cry, so he just dropped his head back down, not caring to listen to him ramble to Johnny. It was all the same.
Johnny telling him that fighting was no good, just like he'd told Pony, but Dally wouldn't listen. Then Dally begging him not to die.
Then Johnny turned to him, and for the first time since that first night, he leaned in close, letting Johnny whisper those same words in his ear.
"Stay gold."
He didn't know what it meant anymore than he had the first time, but it didn't matter because Johnny's hand went limp in his and he seemed to sink into the bed, and Dally screamed just like before, slamming his fist into the wall before taking off, but Pony just watched him go, tears running down his face that he couldn't stop anymore than he could stop Dally from robbing that store and getting gunned down in the street.
It wasn't long before a doctor came into the room, his hand gentle on Ponyboy's shoulder.
"Son? Do you need to call someone?"
It took Pony a minute to nod, letting the doctor press a dime into his hand as he guided him toward the payphone in the waiting room. He didn't know what they'd do to Johnny…if there would be a funeral soon, or if he'd ever get to go to it.
The line only rang once before Darry picked up. "Hello?"
Ponyboy didn't actually know what to say. There was so much he wanted to tell his brother. He wanted to tell Darry that Johnny was dead and that it was his fault. He wanted to say that no matter what he did, he couldn't get out of this…this…whatever it was. Loop. Circle. Cage. He wanted to tell Darry that he was scared and that he needed help but that he was pretty sure Darry couldn't help him anyway. Instead, he closed his eyes and whispered, "Hey, Dar."
"Ponyboy?"
"Yeah."
"Where the hell are you? Did you climb out the window?" he cried, incredulous.
"I'm at the hospital."
Darry's tone changed so fast it made Ponyboy flinch, the fear in his brother's voice taking him by surprise. "What? Why?"
"I wanted to see Johnny."
For a moment, his brother was quiet, like he was waiting for him to go on, but when all Ponyboy could manage to do was stare at the wall in front of his face, feeling hot tears drip down his cheeks, he spoke up. "What's going on, Pony? Are you okay?"
"Johnny's dead." How many times, he wondered, would he have to say that? How many more times would he have to live through this? "Dally couldn't take it." He couldn't take it either, but what did that matter when he'd just have to do it all over again? "He ran off…he…he can't…"
"Jesus, are you alright?"
"Johnny's dead, Darry!" What the hell did it matter if he was okay? "He…" Voice breaking, he closed his eyes and tried to get himself together. Wasn't that what they all did so well? Push their sadness away and pretend they didn't feel anything? Why couldn't he manage it now? Why, after seeing his friend die over and over, did it still hurt so bad? Shouldn't he be used to him being gone by now?
When his brother spoke, his voice had gone impossibly soft. "Hey…listen to me, Pony. Stay there, okay? We'll come get you."
Pony nodded, as if Darry could see him, then hung up the phone. Dropping into a chair in the waiting room, he put his head in his hands, realizing suddenly that he was in the same spot he'd been in after they'd brought him back from the church. Theoretically, that had just been a day ago. It felt more like a month now. How many times had he done this? He had no idea…couldn't make himself focus for long enough to think clearly.
The next thing he knew, someone was sitting next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. His head was pounding so bad it was like he could hear it, and he didn't really care who was holding him…hell, it could have been Randy or Bob, back from the grave, and it wouldn't have mattered. But he knew it was Sodapop right off. His brother didn't say anything…he just wrapped him in his arms and held him real tight. And after a moment, Darry sat on his other side, his hand resting on Pony's back.
He didn't see Steve or Two-Bit, but he heard them sit down in the chairs beside them, and he heard their soft voices saying words he couldn't make out. No one would be at the house to take Dally's call. No one would watch him die in the street except for the cops that shot him. But, Pony realized, that didn't matter, because he'd just have to do it all again the next day. So he closed his eyes tight and gripped the back of Soda's shirt until everything went dark.
