Hello everyone! This is an idea that has been with me for a very long time, and I kept trying to make it perfect. That never happened, and so I did my best to make it passable lol. I hope you enjoy 3
Again
It was near pitch black out, not a star in the sky, and the only lights came from the occasional porch light as what was left of their gang raced down the street. Darry was first, arms pumping, with Soda right behind him. Then Two-Bit, his hand still bleeding through the bandages they'd applied sometime while Ponyboy had been at the hospital with Dal, and then Steve, moving fast for someone with broken ribs.
And then, in the back, Ponyboy.
His head swam as he moved his legs as fast as he could make them go, wondering why he couldn't move any faster when he was the fastest guy in their neighborhood, and how the hell he was supposed to do any of this without Johnny.
Johnny was dead.
Johnny Cade was dead!
It didn't seem any more possible now than it had when he'd watched his friend die in that hospital bed. How could Johnny be dead? Johnny was…Johnny was his best friend and he'd never even left the city where he'd grown up except when they'd stayed out in that church and they hadn't finished Gone with the Wind…he couldn't be dead! It wasn't possible!
And it was his fault. It was all Ponyboy's fault. He'd been the one to start all of this! And now…now Johnny was dead and Dally had held up a store and…and he was running around the corner, sirens in the distance as he came into view…
Ponyboy couldn't focus…couldn't think, as the gunshots rang out and Dallas crumpled under the street lights beside the park where he'd almost drowned. Dally had wanted to die, he realized with a start. And Dallas Winston always got what he wanted. The night air was cold, he realized suddenly, head throbbing, hands shaking. It was cold and Dally seemed to look up at them…to look up at him . Pony couldn't read his expression from so far away…couldn't hear the words he was trying to say…but it didn't matter because Dally was dead.
Johnny was dead and Dally was dead and they couldn't be the gang without Johnny and it was his fault…all of it. His brothers were screaming and he knew they were crying, and he felt like he should be too…none of this was right. It wasn't fair! Johnny shouldn't be dead and neither should Dally, even if he didn't like Dally all that much, and his head shouldn't be hurting this bad, the world spinning too fast around him.
His fault. He'd done this. He'd started it. Now they were both dead…
He should be dead. He should have drowned in that fountain…should have died in the fire…anything…anything but this. Anything would have been better! He wasn't even in the gang, hardly! He was just the kid…the tagalong kid! They needed Dally and Johnny! They couldn't be the gang without them! How…how could they be dead? How could the rest of them survive this? First his parents and now them…how was he supposed to do this?
How had he messed up this bad? How could one stupid mistake lead to all this? They'd hate him forever now…the thought made his eyes grow hot as the world swayed around him…or maybe he was the one swaying. Steve was yelling and Soda was crying and he couldn't see Darry or Two's faces but he knew they were real upset too and he knew it was his fault…he'd done all this and if they didn't hate him they should. He would. He would hate himself forever for this.
"I just want to fix it," he whispered, feeling a hot tear run down his face. "Just…please…let me fix it…" He didn't know who he was talking to, but he doubted anyone was listening.
"Look at the kid!"
Pony didn't know who was yelling…maybe Two-Bit. Two-Bit always looked out for him. He'd been looking out for him earlier when he'd noticed he had a fever…when Pony had asked him not to tell Darry or Soda. As far as he knew, Two had kept his mouth shut. He was a good friend, Pony thought, a tear running down his cheek, and he deserved better than him. They all did. If he could just go back, he thought desperately, the world turning dark all around him, then maybe he could fix it! It didn't matter that it wasn't possible…it was all he wanted in the whole world.
To go back. To fix it.
Time seemed to speed up then, and he thought maybe he should have told Darry he wasn't feeling good after all because his legs gave out, the world suddenly going pitch dark, and…and then…
…and then…
And then he was jerking awake, sitting bolt upright in bed, gasping for air as he stared at the familiar wall in front of his face. His bedroom…he was in his bedroom. Trying to catch his breath and failing, he looked around the room for some kind of clue, but it was just his room…there were dirty clothes in the corner, and the family photos and the posters of cars Soda had given him were on the wall. His desk was exactly the same, folders piled up and his math textbook shoved off in the corner, papers sticking out of its pages.
Beside him, Soda grumbled in his sleep for a second before his eyes opened, and he blinked up at Ponyboy in confusion before it morphed into concern. "Hey, kiddo. You okay?" he asked, voice thick with sleep.
"Soda? What…what happened?" he demanded, looking around the room again and coming up empty. Johnny was dead. Dallas had gotten himself gunned down in the street. And then he'd...collapsed? If he'd collapsed in the street…would he just be in bed? He still felt bad like he was sick or something but…but something didn't feel right.
Soda sat up, reaching out and putting a hand on Ponyboy's shoulder. "What do you mean?" he asked, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
"Johnny…him and Dally…they…" he met Soda's gaze, shaking his head, unable to say it, and Soda blinked at him.
"They're in the hospital, kiddo," Soda reminded him gently, looking more worried by the minute. "Remember? They got hurt in the fire."
No…no that wasn't…that wasn't right. "No…Soda…he…Johnny, he…he's dead!"
Soda blinked at him, suddenly looking wide awake as he shook his head. "Pony, Johnny's not dead. He's in the hospital."
He kept shaking his head, not able to get the image out of his head. They were dead…Johnny in a hospital bed, Dally gunned down in the street. "No! He's dead, and Dally too!"
Soda gripped both of his shoulders then, leaning in and trying to smile. "Hey, easy honey. I think you had a nightmare…"
"No! It wasn't a nightmare! It was…Soda they died!" His brother was staring at him, looking beyond concerned, but Ponyboy had to make him understand. "Yesterday! At the hospital…Johnny…he died! After the rumble! And…" Pony's heart was racing and he grabbed Soda's arms. "Dally robbed that store. He wanted to die…he doesn't want to live without Johnny!"
"Ponyboy, you just got back yesterday," Soda told him, his voice too gentle and too patient, like he thought Pony might break any second. "You were hiding out in that church, and there was a fire."
He nodded. That was right. There was a fire! His fault…the fire and Johnny and Dally…the fight with Darry…all his fault!
"The ambulance brought you to the hospital yesterday, and we brought you home last night. You fell asleep in the truck. You must have had a nightmare."
Pony shook his head. It hadn't been a nightmare!
Right?
But…if it hadn't been a nightmare…then what was this? It didn't make any sense.
"Johnny…Johnny's not dead?" he asked, scarcely daring to hope.
"No…Pone, he's not dead. You can go see him today."
He was quiet for a long second, and when he managed to speak, his voice trailed off before he could finish his sentence. "I…I thought…"
Soda smiled a little, relaxing when Pony started to. "It's okay. You don't usually remember them, huh?"
"Soda… are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," Soda murmured, squeezing his shoulders again. "How are you feeling?"
How was he feeling? Tired…tired with a growing headache that made him want to crawl back under the covers. But he didn't want to tell Soda that. "I'm okay," he told him slowly, not sure how to explain the feeling of deja vous…or the headache.
"Yeah?" Soda grinned, patting him on the shoulder before dropping his arms. "It sure is good to have you home, kiddo."
Pony nodded. Home. He was back home and…and he'd just gotten home yesterday? "Yeah…" He looked at his brother, trying to smile. "I missed you."
Soda ruffled his ungreased, blond hair, still grinning. "I missed you too. Don't do that again, huh? The next time you skip town, take me with you."
"Sure."
Soda punched him in the arm, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. "You sure you feel okay?" he wanted to know as he grabbed a pair of jeans, hesitating before he left the room.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
His brother gave him an appraising look, then nodded. "Alright," he said slowly, not looking convinced as he started to head for the bathroom. "You ready for the rumble tonight?"
"Yeah…sure"
The rumble…that…there's no way he'd dreamed that. That had already happened!
He looked back up at the doorway, but Soda was gone.
Feeling like he was in a play and following stage directions, he retraced his own footsteps into the kitchen, remembering the morning he could have sworn he'd had the day before. He grabbed the eggs and began cooking them, deciding to make Darry a sandwich first. Just like before…his dream. But the longer he was awake, the more he was sure it hadn't been a dream. It couldn't have been. He couldn't have dreamed all of this…it was impossible. He'd woken up and…and he'd gone with Two-Bit to see Johnny. They'd rumbled. And then Johnny had died and Dally had lost it and he'd…he'd…collapsed? Right?
His own words rang in his ears then. "Let me fix it." That's what he'd said…
Had someone been listening?
But that was impossible too.
Their front door slamming jerked him out of his thoughts and he managed to drop the skillet and let go of his spoon right as Two-Bit grabbed him from behind, pulling him into his arms and spinning him around, shouting his name just as gleefully as before.
Pony choked out a disbelieving laugh. It hadn't been a dream. No way. He couldn't have dreamed all this.
"Hey Ponyboy!" Steve grinned, digging in their refrigerator and pulling out a chocolate cake that he immediately helped himself to a slice too.
Pony looked between the two of them, incredulous.
This was happening. It was the same day…he was…doing the same day over?
"Look at baldy here!" Two-Bit cried, running his knuckles roughly over his head, but Pony was too stunned to react other than to squirm a little.
"Hey, how does it feel to be a hero, kid?" Steve asked, holding up the newspaper.
No way he could have dreamed up that headline…no way he could have dreamed about himself in the papers. They didn't put greasers in the paper…not for anything good.
When he didn't answer, Steve narrowed his eyes, dropping the newspaper onto the counter and Two-Bit let him go, backing off a little. "You alright?" Two asked, trying to look him in the eye.
"I…" He blinked a few times, headache getting worse by the second. "It's gonna burn," he muttered, pushing past Two Bit and flipping the egg before it could get too crisp. His buddies watched him silently, and Pony could practically feel their concern as he put the egg onto the bread and started frying the bacon.
"Ponyboy? You okay?" Two-Bit asked softly, a fist bumping against his shoulder, and Pony made himself nod.
"Yeah…I'm…yeah. I'm fine."
"You sure? 'Cause you don't look too hot."
"Thanks," he mumbled absently, then jumped a little when a hand was pressed to his forehead.
"Hey, where are Soda and Superman, huh?" Steve asked, but not in the same way he'd asked before…in Pony's dream…or…not dream. Yesterday. It had just been yesterday…which was the same as today, apparently. But that was impossible. This time, Steve wasn't eating chocolate cake and asking him how it felt to be a big shot…assuring him that they wouldn't let anyone take him away from his family.
This time, Steve looked worried.
The shower shut off then, and they all turned to watch Soda wrap a towel around his waist, lifting an eyebrow and grinning at his friend as Darry came out of his room.
'You gotta wear clothes to work buddy,' Pony thought dully. 'There's a law or something.'
"You gotta wear clothes to work buddy," Steve joked. "There's a law or something."
Not a dream. Ponyboy almost laughed, feeling hysterical. Sure, he'd wanted to fix what he'd done. But this was impossible!
"Yeah, Darry, you seen that blue shirt I washed yesterday?"
"I ironed it. It's hanging up in my closet."
Numbly, Pony held out the plate with Darry's sandwich and his brother took it.
"Thanks, kiddo."
Pony just nodded, too aware of Steve and Two-Bit watching him. And Darry too, he realized. Had Sodapop said anything to him about his 'dream'? Had he even had time to?
"Pony? I think I ought to stay home today. I don't like leaving you here by yourself."
Ponyboy didn't look at him as he said his lines. "I've stayed by myself plenty of times. Besides, we can't afford it." He spoke dully, closing his eyes as his head pounded, and the room went quiet. Aspirin, he thought. He needed Aspirin. And maybe a straight jacket because he was obviously losing it.
"Ponyboy?"
"Don't worry, Darry. I'll babysit him."
Pony didn't have the energy to tackle him, and when he didn't answer, the room somehow got even more quiet, like all the air had been sucked out of it.. When he opened his eyes, he found Darry right in front of him, a hand outstretched to press against his forehead.
"You're kind of warm, Pone. You feel alright?"
"Yeah…I'll just take some Aspirin."
The room was still too quiet…why were they all being so quiet? Their house was never this quiet.
"Okay…take it easy today."
"Sure."
"See you later, kiddo," Soda called, kind of hesitant.
"See you," Pony told him, giving a half wave as he and Steve headed out. Darry didn't move though, and Pony saw the worry in his eyes. Worry that he used to mistake for anger. But Darry wasn't mad. He was scared.
Why was he scared?
What was going on?
"Kiddo, look at me a second." Pony did, and Darry squeezed his shoulder. "You're not looking too good."
"I'm fine, Darry," he tried to assure him. He needed to figure out what was happening…and why it was happening, and he doubted he'd be able to do that from the house, which was where he would be stuck if Darry stayed home with him.
Darry nodded slowly, then gave Two-Bit a look that plainly translated to 'please look after him' and then he patted him on the shoulder. "Alright. You guys do up these dishes. I'll see you tonight. Y'all say hi to Johnny for me?"
Two-Bit handed him the bottle of Aspirin almost before his brother was out the door. He swallowed four, figuring that would do it. He had to figure out what was going on, and there was no way he'd be able to figure anything out with the way his head was pounding.
"Pony?" Two asked, dropping a hand on his shoulder.
"Yeah?"
"You think you ought to go to a doctor or something? Maybe you inhaled some smoke or…"
"I saw a doctor…yesterday," Pony told him, pushing himself to his feet. He was pretty sure that was true. There had been doctors at the hospital, and probably in that ambulance too. They'd looked him over. "Are we going to see Johnny?"
Two-Bit looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Yeah…eat something first, and we'll go."
Pony did, doing his best to act like everything was normal. He cleaned the dishes, ignoring Two-Bit when he didn't help, just stood around and watched. The day before, he'd cleaned up the house too, but he couldn't bring himself to just then. He just wanted to see Johnny…see him alive.
But what did it matter if he was alive now, part of him wondered…he'd be dead by midnight anyway.
Still, maybe he'd know what was going on.
Pony pulled Dally's burned jacket on, following Two-Bit out the door as they started the long walk toward 10th…he tried not to think about how far of a walk it was because if he did, he thought he might just sit down on the sidewalk and not get up. If he didn't want to see Johnny so bad, he might have turned around and gone back to bed…tried to sleep through this day and try again the next. Maybe this was the dream, he thought as he tuned out Two-Bit's stories, and he was still in the street where he'd fallen. Or maybe he was in the hospital or something…in a coma.
His mind sure wasn't on his buddy's stories…hell, his mind was barely on the sidewalk under his feet, which became obvious the second time he stumbled. Two didn't say anything about it, but he could feel his friend's sharp eye on him. They'd stopped by the Tasty Freeze to get cokes the day before, and Two-Bit led him into the same shop, ordering the two of them cokes as they sat down at the counter, paying before Pony could root around in his pocket for spare change.
Still, his mind was on that night. The rumble. He'd wanted to fix this…he'd wanted to fix all of it. The fight with Darry and that fire and Johnny dying, but he couldn't do any of that today. Johnny was going to die that night after the rumble and so was Dally and then…
Then what?
Would he have to do it all again?
He'd almost forgotten the next part, what with everything else that had happened. But when the Mustang that had been trailing them pulled in. Once more, he thought about running, but Two-But handed him a cigarette that he lit with shaking hands, wishing as he inhaled that smoking would cure his awful headache. Instead, it just made him feel worse.
Two-Bit leaned an elbow on his shoulder, watching as Randy and the tall one whose name Pony hadn't ever learned approached. He didn't want to have this conversation…not again. He didn't want to climb into Randy's tuff car and listen to him talk about how he didn't want to rumble. Pony didn't want to rumble either…he just wanted to see Johnny and figure out what was going on. Maybe Johnny was living the same day over too!
Glory, he thought with a grimace, what a shitty day to relive…even shittier than Pony's.
"No jazz before the rumble. You know the rules," Two told them simply, as unbothered as he'd been the day before.
"We know," Randy told him, eyes locking on Pony's. "Come here. I want to talk to you."
There wasn't really any way to tell Randy he didn't want to talk to him, so with a sigh, Pony followed, climbing into the car without really taking it in.
Randy said all the same things, and Pony followed the script as best he remembered. Him being a greaser didn't have anything to do with him and Johnny saving those kids. Anyone could have. Randy wasn't going to show at the rumble…Pony didn't care. He didn't care if Bob himself somehow came to life and showed up instead. All he cared about was seeing Johnny. Still, he did his best to hold a conversation with a pounding headache and a complete inability to focus until it was over and he could get out of the car.
"Thanks, grease."
Pony took that as his cue, turning to open the door, when Randy called him back.
"Wait…I didn't mean that. I meant, thanks, kid."
"My name's Ponyboy," he told him, although surely Randy had read it in the papers, then nodded, climbing out of the car at long last and trying to remember if they had any more stops to make before they got to the hospital.
He sure hoped not. But more than anything, he hoped that Johnny might somehow have some answers for him.
Thanks for reading!
