To Try and Try Again
Pony tried again to save Dally, not sure what else he could do. He did it all the same as before, making it through the day in a haze and then staying in bed until his brothers got back from the rumble, then snuck out through the window. This time, he grabbed Dally and shoved him into the lot, making sure to get out of the line of fire too, pulling Dallas towards the back alley where they could escape. The two of them ran, Pony's hand tight around Dally's wrist until they were able to jump the back fence of Pony's yard and make it into the house, turning all the lights off. Dally just stared at him in the darkness, eyes wide, and Pony wondered if he remembered.
"How the hell did you know where I'd be?" he asked, that dangerous glint in his eyes gone, a sadness that almost made him look young taking its place.
"I've been living this same day over and over," Pony told him, not caring if Dally thought he was crazy as he headed back to bed. "That's where you always end up." Then he left his friend in baffled silence to wait for the rest of the gang to come back. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, then woke up next to Soda that same morning.
He tried following Dallas from Johnny's room, wondering if he should stop him from robbing the store in the first place. Hand wrapped around Dally's wrist, he yanked him to a stop right outside of the room where their friend's body lay, not caring about his own tears as Dallas spun to face him.
"Don't…please, Dally. Don't."
"What the hell…"
"Just wait! Please!"
"Let go or so help me…" Dallas started, shaking with rage that Pony was surprised he could contain, but he cut him off, holding his wrist so tight Ponyboy wouldn't be surprised if it bruised…that is, if Dally lived long enough.
"Johnny wouldn't want you to do this! He wouldn't want you to die too!"
"Get the fuck off me!" Dally yanked the gun out of his pocket and pointed it right at him with a hand that shook so bad Pony doubted he'd be able to hit him even if it was loaded, looking desperate and angry and so many other things Pony was too tired to name. A nurse came hurrying around the corner and froze when she saw them, mouth open to scream.
"God, please, do it!" Pony cried with a hysterical laugh, wishing suddenly that the gun was loaded. "Then maybe I can quit doing this shit every day!"
His buddy stared at him, wide eyed, and Pony hoped that maybe that had snapped him out of it.
"Listen, I know what you're going to do!" he told the barrel of the gun. "I know you're going to rob a store and the cops are going to kill you and that's what you want…but…please, Dally…don't. We already lost Johnny. Don't make us lose you too."
Dally went to yank his wrist away again, that same manic light in his eyes, and when Pony just gripped him harder, he pulled the gun back, bringing it up and hitting Ponyboy hard enough in the head that he had to stumble back, stars exploding in his vision. He dropped after a second, remembering how he'd collapsed in the street before, and watched Dally run in the opposite direction before the world went dark, that nurse crying out and dropping to his side as she tried in ain to keep him awake.
And once more, he woke up beside Sodapop on the same morning, and once more, none of it mattered.
He tried visiting Johnny again, waiting until his brothers got back and sneaking out the window. It was all the same…he apologized to Johnny because it was all he could do and then he watched Dallas run out of the room, gun in hand. This time, Pony left too. Only he didn't follow Dally and he didn't head home either, even if his brothers had probably figured out he was gone by then and were worried. Instead, he ran the other direction, arms pumping, not caring where he was going as long as he didn't have to see what happened next. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to watch. He just wanted to run.
He only made it a couple of miles before he had to sit, finding an alley in a part of town he didn't recognize and dropping to the ground, head resting against the wall as he stared at the back of his eyelids. He couldn't keep doing this. He was going to go insane. He already felt insane. Every day was worse than the last, the numbness settling over him like a blanket he couldn't get out from under. Some things were always the same: the time he woke up. Dally losing it and trying to get the cops to kill him. His brothers worrying about him. The rest he could change. But it didn't matter if he changed it…it didn't matter what he changed.
Nothing mattered.
He tried starting a fight with Dally at the hospital early in the morning, figuring he had nothing to lose.
"You need to go talk to Johnny." He'd tried that before but this time, he went all in.
Dally stared up at him from the hospital bed, glancing at the clock as Pony burst into his room. "Do your brothers know you're here?"
They didn't. He hadn't even left a note for them this time. "It don't matter! Listen to me. Johnny is going to die tonight! And you know it! He ain't never going to leave this hospital and you need to talk to him before he dies!"
His eyes darkened, but Pony kept going, feeling pretty angry himself by this point.
"He's dying right now! Go talk to him! Tell him he's your best friend…that you're proud of him! That you don't want to live without him! He needs to know it before he dies, and you need to say it!"
"Johnny ain't gonna die."
"Of course he is! Jesus, Dally, are you stupid? Or do you just not care?"
He'd never spoken to Dallas Winston like that…had never dared. Even if his brothers had been around to protect him, there still would have been a fight. But he was so sick of Dally being an asshole about this, even if Dally didn't know how many times Pony had tried to get him to visit Johnny. He knew why Dally didn't want to do it…didn't want to see how bad he really was. But Pony needed him to listen if there was even a chance that this would help.
"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Dally snapped, jumping out of bed and shoving him against the wall with his good arm.
Pony knew it was stupid, but maybe making Dally mad would get him to actually go see Johnny. It wasn't like he had any other ideas. "I think you don't give a shit about Johnny," he whispered, getting up in Dally's face, hands pressed to his chest as he pushed him back. "If you did, you'd go see him."
He should have seen the fist coming…should have cared.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dally all but screamed, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him upright, but he'd already hit his head on the wall when Dally had punched him and he hadn't bothered with Aspirin or breakfast that morning, and his knees buckled as his head spun. Still, in for a penny…
"You know what I think?" he asked, praying this would work and knowing it probably wouldn't. "I think you're a fucking coward."
He didn't even feel the second blow. The next thing he knew was a hand brushing his hair back, then resting on his head, which felt…strange.
"Darry's gonna kill Dal for this," someone whispered, and it took his scrambled brain a second to identify his brother's voice. "Jesus, man…what the hell's wrong with him?"
Hadn't Dally asked him the same thing.
"Doctor say anything?" That was Two-Bit, and Pony wondered who had called his brother and why Two-Bit was here.
"Said he's got a concussion. He's dehydrated too…that's what the IV's for, I guess. The doctor said he had a fever."
"He'll be alright," Two-Bit reassured his brother. Pony thought about opening his eyes, but he felt so tired he could hardly stand it. Besides, why should he bother? Maybe he could sleep through this gawdawful day. Making Dally mad probably hadn't changed anything, but he wouldn't know until he woke up the next day…or the same day.
He was running out of ideas.
"I thought they looked at him…they let him come home last night…" Soda's voice was tight…scared. "I can't believe Dallas…what's his problem?"
Even in his concussed, exhausted state, Pony knew exactly what Dally's problem was, not that him telling Sodapop would help any. Two-Bit was quiet for a moment. Then, to Ponyboy's surprise, he spoke up.
"Dal's not taking all this real well."
"You think that means he can take it out on my kid brother? He gave him a concussion, Two-Bit!"
"I know…I ain't saying he should have hit the kid. I'm just saying…I went and saw Johnny."
Soda was quiet.
"It ain't looking good."
His brother swore, and Pony felt him rest the back of his hand on his forehead for a moment. He didn't want to listen anymore. He just wanted to sleep. So he kept his breathing as even as he could, but before he could drift off, Soda spoke again.
"Dally better not show his face for a while. Darry's gonna break his jaw if he gets a hold of him. Hell, he might do worse."
"How'd he sound on the phone?"
Soda sighed. "I just told him Pony was in the hospital. Figured I'd better wait to tell him the rest just in case he ran into Dal on his way."
It felt like Pony slept for less than a minute before he was pulled into awareness once more by his brother's booming voice.
"Soda? What's going on?" Darry demanded, and Pony heard them shift beside him, figuring Two-Bit or Soda was moving out of his way…was Two-Bit still here? He couldn't make himself open his eyes and check, and besides, he didn't want to admit to what he'd done. If it changed anything, he'd try to figure out how to explain everything. If not, it wouldn't matter anyway. "What happened to him?"
A large, warm hand rested on his head for a moment, then Soda sighed before explaining. "He's got a concussion. He'd dehydrated too. And he's got a fever."
"How the hell did he get a concussion? Didn't the doctors look at him last night?"
"He didn't get it in that fire. It was Dally."
"What?" Darry demanded, voice cold all of a sudden, and Pony wished they'd quiet down so he could go back to sleep.
"Seems like ol' Dal's not taking all this too well. The doctor said Pony went to Dally's room this morning and apparently they got into it. Dally ran off, and when a nurse checked the room, Pony was on the floor."
Pony knew that Darry being this quiet wasn't a good thing. He could practically feel how mad his brother was, even with his eyes closed.
"Where is he?"
"Don't worry about that right now, man."
"Don't worry?" Darry repeated, incredulous and angry. "Where the hell does he get off, thinking he can beat on my little brother?"
"Look…I get it. He shouldn't have hit the kid," Two-Bit told him, sounding surprisingly serious. "And you can beat the shit out of him later. But Johnny…it's not looking good, Darry. And I don't know if Dally can handle it."
They were blessedly quiet then, and Pony was allowed to drift off once more, stubbornly clinging to sleep, or the illusion of it, even when his brothers talked to him, trying to coax him awake. He couldn't do it. He couldn't watch his friends die again. So he kept his eyes closed and drifted when he could. Darry and Soda stayed with him all day…every time he came back to some kind of awareness, he could hear them talking, or feel their hands on his arm or resting on his head. He never opened his eyes, but he was pretty sure Two-Bit was there too…maybe Steve.
Finally, he must have drifted off to sleep for long enough that midnight passed, and he woke up beside Sodapop in his own bed and sobbed in the shower, pleading with whoever was doing this to him to make it stop until Soda knocked on the door and told him to hurry up.
It was his eleventh time redoing this. His twelfth time living through this day.
Sitting at the table and staring down at the eggs that Darry had made him, Pony felt the throbbing in his head as he tried to think. Trying to save Dally wasn't working. Even when he'd managed it and survived, it hadn't done anything. He couldn't get him to talk to Johnny, and even if he did, Johnny died anyway. It didn't matter if he was with either of them when they died. It didn't matter if he went to the rumble or not.
"Pony?"
He glanced up at Darry who didn't know that this was his twelfth time reliving this same day…who didn't know that he felt like he was coming apart at the seams…who had no idea that he was thinking about going into the bathroom and taking every pill in the medicine cabinet to see if maybe that would work. All Darry knew was that he'd been in a fire the day before after being gone for a week, and that he wasn't looking too good.
His brother had been making breakfast when Pony had gotten out of the shower, and he wondered if he'd woken him. It was hard to keep track of what time his brothers woke up…he'd done this day so many different ways, he couldn't quite remember the way it was supposed to go anymore.
"Ponyboy? You alright?"
Maybe, he thought then, he should try being a little more honest with Darry. It wasn't like it could make things worse.
"Dar? I don't feel good," he admitted, dropping his head into his hands, and Darry went quiet before his hand pressed against the back of his neck.
"You're kind of hot, kiddo. You feel sick?"
Pony nodded. "Can I go back to bed?"
Beside him, his brother was quiet for a long moment, then rested a hand on Ponyboy's back. "Yeah, honey. Come on. I'll get you some Aspirin," he murmured, leading him into his room while Soda took a shower and Steve and Two-Bit were quiet in the living room. He didn't know if they'd heard him, but he didn't much care. It didn't matter. Nothing did. So he took the same medicine he took just about every day and let his brother pull the blankets up over him, relaxing back onto the pillow and watching Darry sit on the bed beside him. "You think you need to see a doctor?"
Pony shrugged. On one hand, he always hated costing his brothers any more money than he had to, but on the other, none of this was real, so who cared?
"Alright…I'm gonna call my boss. I'll be right back."
Soda checked in on him after he got out of the shower, taking Darry's spot on the bed and smoothing his hair back, pulling him out of a dozing sleep. "Pony? You feeling bad?" he asked, and Pony nodded, rolling over and trying to go back to sleep. Maybe he could dream up a solution. Or maybe he'd finally sleep enough that he actually felt well rested, and his ever-present headache would finally go away. "Darry's going to stay home with you…we'll try to get you to a doctor tomorrow. You want anything?"
He shook his head, too miserable and exhausted to even try and keep his brother from worrying.
"I'll bring you back something for dinner…a milkshake or something." He squeezed Pony's shoulder and Ponyboy wished he could manage a smile or even a 'thanks' or something…but it didn't matter…and he was afraid that he was reaching the limits of how much of this he could take. "Get some rest, kiddo," Soda urged after a moment, and Pony managed to nod before drifting back into sleep.
Darry did stay home with him for the first time in those twelve days, but Ponyboy didn't hold out any hope that it would actually make any difference. His brother tried to get him to eat lunch, offering soup or chicken or even to go and get him a barbecue sandwich or something from a fast food place, but Pony just buried himself in his blankets, shaking his head and trying to get back to sleep. For once in his life, he wasn't really dreaming…he'd just drift into nothingness until he was awake again.
At one point, he woke to Darry sitting on the bed beside him in Soda's usual spot, the soft rustle of the newspaper the only sound in the room, and once more, he wondered if confiding in Darry would make any kind of difference. Darry was the smartest person Ponyboy knew…if anyone could figure this out, it was him. But there was no way he'd believe any of it. He'd just think Ponyboy was crazy or something, and although it didn't matter, it wouldn't exactly help. Darry wasn't like Sodapop…he didn't listen.
Could he tell Soda?
His brother glanced down at him, pausing when he saw that Pony was awake, then dropping his paper on his lap and resting his hand against Ponyboy's forehead. "You're still pretty hot. I called the doctor. He can see you tomorrow."
Ponyboy closed his eyes again. There wouldn't be a tomorrow…not for any of them.
Darry kept talking. "It's almost two…do you want to eat something? A sandwich?"
Tears burned his eyes and he shook his head, hoping Darry didn't notice him crying. He didn't want to eat. He didn't even want to sleep…not really. He just wanted time to go back to working the way it was supposed to.
"Come on, little buddy. Please? You have to eat something…you haven't eaten anything since yesterday."
It was the nickname that broke him…Sodapop was 'little buddy.' Not him. But Darry was pleading with him and he hated upsetting Darry…hated making him worry like this, even if he wouldn't even remember it when day thirteen rolled around. So he took a deep breath and blinked hard, hoping the fact that the only light coming into the room was from his window would hide his tears from Darry. He was only going to feel worse as the day went on, but he could at least try and act normal for the moment…
For Darry.
"Can I have some soup?"
"Yeah…sure, honey. I'll go make you some. Is tomato okay?"
Pony nodded. He could have offered him any kind of soup they had and it wouldn't have mattered. He just couldn't stand to see Darry so upset.
He managed to almost finish the soup, letting Darry take the bowl when he was done, then drifted back to sleep. Once more, he thought about talking to Darry…really talking to him. Explaining all of it. But there was no point and besides, he was so tired he couldn't hardly stand it. It wasn't just feeling sick…it was all of it, like a weight crushing him into the bed until all he could do was sleep.
So Pony slept. He closed his eyes and curled up under the blankets and when he woke, he tried to sleep again. It felt like he hadn't actually slept in days, and it wasn't until a hand landed on his shoulder that he opened his eyes, not feeling any more well rested than he had that morning.
In the dim light of the bedroom, he could see Sodapop with a bruise already blooming around his eyes. His shirt had drops of blood on it, and when he sat beside him in the bed, Pony could see that his knuckles were torn up too. "Hey, Pone. How do you feel?"
Ponyboy blinked at him. The rumble was over. What time was it? How long did Johnny have? How long had it taken for Dally to drive him to the hospital? For him to threaten the nurse? For them to say the last words they'd ever say to each other? It had taken him a long time to walk home from the hospital…almost two hours.
"You okay?" he asked instead of answering. He knew Soda was fine after the rumble, but he still hated to see him hurt, even if it wasn't bad, and even if it wasn't real.
"Yeah, kiddo. We won." Soda's smile was tired.
He remembered them talking about a party…he remembered them in the living room, tired and hurting.
"When did you get back?"
"A little over an hour ago. I'm kind of worried about you." He pressed a hand to his forehead. "We're taking you to the doctor tomorrow. You're still pretty hot."
How much longer did Johnny have?
How much longer did Dally have?
"How are you feeling?" he asked again.
"Johnny's going to die." Pony didn't know what made him say it…maybe he was just so sick of being the only one who had to know what was going to happen. Maybe he was hoping that Sodapop could help. Or maybe his fever was getting higher since he hadn't been able to swipe an unhealthy amount of Aspirin with Darry there.
"What?" Soda sat beside him, the hand moving from his forehead to grip his shoulder again.
"He's going to die. Tonight. That's where Dally went."
"What do you mean, Pony? Where did Dally go?"
"He was at the rumble."
Soda blinked at him. "How did you know that?" he asked, smiling a little in confusion.
"You've been home an hour?"
"Yeah, about."
Pony closed his eyes, feeling the familiar grief wash over him again. "He's already dead."
It had taken him almost two hours to get home…it hadn't taken a full hour to get to the hospital though. Johnny was dead. This made twelve times.
"Honey, what are you talking about?" Soda urged, sounding concerned.
Pony hadn't even gone to visit him this time. Could Johnny remember any of the other days? Did he dream about the times they'd talked? About the ending of a book he'd never really get to finish?
"Hey, I'll be right back, okay?" Soda murmured when he didn't answer.
Did Johnny know that he was his best friend? That Pony had somehow wished himself into trying to save him over and over…or that he had just about given up?
When Soda returned, it was with Darry in tow. He stayed standing while Darry sat down, reaching out and putting his hand against Pony's forehead for the third or fifth or hundredth time. "Open your mouth, kiddo," Darry ordered, sliding a thermometer under his tongue.
"He knew that Dally was at the rumble," Soda whispered, and Pony watched Darry glance back at their brother, lips pressed in a thin line before turning his focus back to Ponyboy who, wishing he could go back to sleep, closed his eyes. "How'd he know that?"
"Grab the Aspirin and a glass of water, would you?" Darry asked, waiting until their brother had returned to pull the thermometer out of his mouth and squint at it. "Your fever went up, Pone. Here, swallow these," he urged.
Pony wanted to tell him that it didn't matter. That none of it mattered. But he didn't, just swallowed the pills Darry gave him.
How long had it been?
How much longer did he have before Dally was gone too? Again.
"Hey…the kid okay?" Two-Bit asked softly from the doorway, but Pony didn't bother opening his eyes to look at him.
"His fever's kind of high. We're gonna get him to a doctor tomorrow."
There wouldn't be a tomorrow.
"Y'all see where Dal went off to? I thought he'd be here by now."
"He went to see Johnny," Pony told them, not opening his eyes.
He heard footsteps, and when Two-Bit spoke again, his voice was soft and worried. "How would you know, kid?"
"He went to see Johnny. But Johnny's dead…he died right after the rumble."
His brothers and Two-Bit went quiet, then their friend spoke in an almost whisper. "Dar, how high is that fever?"
"Dally's about to call," he told them, not caring anymore if they thought he was crazy. It was almost over anyway. And maybe he was crazy. What did it matter? "He went to see Johnny after the rumble, and Johnny died. Dally couldn't take it. So he held up a convenience store and he's going to call."
"What's he talking about?" Steve asked, appearing in his doorway and sounding genuinely concerned.
"He's going to ask you guys to hide him. You're going to go meet him by the park, but the cops are going to get to him first. He'll point his gun at them, and they'll shoot him in the street because they don't know it's not loaded."
"Ponyboy…" Soda started, voice soft and urgent, but Pony went on.
"He wants to die. He can't stand living without Johnny."
He ignored the bewildered silence, smiling as a tear ran down his cheek from his closed eyes. "And I can't stop any of it. No matter what I do, I can't fix this. And tomorrow, I'm going to have to wake up and do it all over again."
The phone rang, and he covered his face with his hands. It didn't matter if they saw him cry. It wasn't real. None of it was real.
"I'll get it," Steve murmured while Soda sat beside him on the bed, easing his arm underneath him and pulling Pony to sit upright so he could hold him.
"Honey…"
Darry put a hand on his back, the two of them apparently lost for words.
"I'm so sick of this," he whispered, crying into Soda's shoulder. "I don't know what to do…I don't know who's doing this…or what they want!"
"Did he hit his head?" Two-Bit asked softly, sounding horrified, and Pony choked on a laugh.
"God, I wish," he told them, knowing he sounded insane. At least a head injury would explain this. But what did it matter? It was almost over.
"Guys…" Steve stepped into the room, sounding scared. "That was Dal…the cops are after him. We've got to hide him…he wants us to meet him at the park."
Pony laughed into Soda's shoulder, tears soaking his brother's shirt.
"Go," Soda ordered when everyone hesitated. "I'm gonna stay with him." And as soon as they were gone, all of them sprinting away to watch Dallas Winston die, Soda pulled away, hands on Pony's shoulders. "Hey, look at me," he ordered softly, his eyes wide with concern. "Honey, I need you to tell the truth, okay? You won't be in trouble."
Pony just stared at him, still crying.
"Did you take something? Something other than Aspirin? While we were gone?"
He laughed then. Soda thought he was on drugs. Of course he did. Although Pony wasn't even sure where to get drugs…they didn't exactly keep hard stuff in the medicine cabinet. "No," he told him, shaking his head. "No, I didn't take nothing."
"Are you sure? I ain't gonna be mad. Hell, I won't tell Darry, okay? I promise. I just need to know."
He sobered a little, hating that he was doing this to Sodapop. "No. I promise. All I've had is that Aspirin."
"How do you know this stuff? How do you know that Dally was at the rumble? Or…or that he was going to hold up a convenience store?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
Soda shook his head, gripping his shoulders even tighter. "Pony, of course I'd believe you! It's me! You can talk to me about anything."
Pony smiled, feeling so tired and so sad that he couldn't stand it. "It doesn't matter. Dally's gonna die soon, and then I'll have to do it all again."
"What do you mean? Do what again?"
He dropped his head against Soda's shoulder, figuring it was almost over. "Don't worry. It's not real," he whispered. "None of this is real."
Soda stiffened, and Pony wondered if he remembered his nightmare from so many nights ago…so many days that hadn't happened. Did he remember sitting at his side as he bled out in the street, apologizing and assuring them that none of it was real? Did the days that had never happened bleed into his dreams?
The sound of gunshots echoed through the neighborhood, and Pony closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his brother who'd flinched at the sound of them.
"It's okay," he promised, holding Soda tight. "It's not real."
This time when he woke up, he woke up crying.
