Welcome to my one-shot series! There will be 7 chapters released every Friday until it's over. Centered around Ponyboy HC and the gang's relationships, set before the events of the book.

This is my first take on an Outsider fic. I am just having fun with S. E. Hinton's world here. I do not own it. On with the show.

When I woke in the dark quiet of the house, I knew something was up. My head felt wrong. It wasn't painful, but it wasn't pleasant either. Lying next to Sodapop, I noticed the room was spinning slowly, and I had difficulty focusing my eyes. An ache started behind my left eye, irritatingly familiar. Panic started building in my chest at the pounding in my head. The longer I lay there, the worse I got.

Glory! Isn't this a miserable start to a Friday? I thought, curling in on myself pushing my palm into my smarting left eye. It felt like I took a right hook from Darry. My head was thumping in time with my heart, and I felt my left eye start watering. The vertigo got worse, making me squeeze my eyes closed.

I squinted at the desk clock, trying to make the numbers on the display focus. It was 5:00 AM. Darry would be up in another thirty minutes, and I knew I needed to act fast if I didn't want to tip off Soda and Darry that I wasn't feeling great.

That was the last thing they needed.

Careful not to wake up Soda, I slid out of bed and padded over to the shared bathroom. Being upright was miserable, the room spinning faster than ever, and I felt lopsided and off balance. I nearly ran into my pile of books by the door. Luckily for me, I know this house backwards and upside-down. Still, I sighed in relief when I closed the bathroom door behind me. The complete darkness was soothing, and I took a moment to sit on the toilet lid and rest my head against the cold porcelain of the sink.

Glory, my head was smarting. It pulsed with my heartbeat and was starting to make me feel sick to my stomach. I knew from experience that I'd wake up the whole house if I got sick now. So, I breathed through the nausea, taking a few minutes to brace myself. The last thing I wanted to do was turn on the light, but I needed to see the medicine cabinet.

I reached out my hand in the dark, feeling for the light. As soon as I felt the switch, there was a shuffling noise in Darry's room next door, and I froze. My brother really couldn't see what I was doing. I told them the headaches were getting better. I really didn't want either one to know I was fibbing. So, I took a deep breath and turned on the light.

I winced and hissed a bit in the blinding light. I wanted to curl up on the floor, but that'd get me found out for sure. Especially since Darry would be getting up soon. Instead, I sat heavily on the toilet and buried my head in my arms. I was breathing way too hard, and I tried to slow myself down. It felt like a big soc hit me in the head with a baseball bat. And at that moment, I desperately wanted Soda and Darry.

Darry would read the bottles in the cabinet and turn off the light, and then Soda would wrap me up in his arms until I could sleep it off. But I couldn't have Soda or Darry. They didn't need to miss out on any sleep because I was a ball baby. I could take care of myself. So slowly, with one hand on the wall to keep myself upright, I stood and walked to the medicine cabinet and pulled back the mirror.

I kept my eyes screwed shut, and it took a minute of playing chicken with the light to finally be able to see anything. Squinting at the row of bottles on the little shelves carefully, I grabbed a prescription bottle from inside.

"Ergotamine. Ponyboy Curtis. Take as directed."

I opened the bottle and saw one pill staring back at me.

That ain't no good. I thought, letting the pill roll into my palm before throwing it back in my mouth, dry swallowing it. I made a face, feeling the chalky pill slide none to gently down my throat. My stomach protested, and I thought I was going to lose the pill before it could do anything. I willed myself not to throw up.

I couldn't waste this pill.

I hated these pills, but I couldn't say they didn't help my migraines. The migraine attacks really started to crank up after Mom and Dad died. Yes, I had had them occasionally before. In the months after Mom and Dad died, I got them nearly every few days, and it scared Darry and Soda something awful.

These pills the doctor had given me were helpful when the side effects weren't bad and could typically get me through the worst of an attack most of the time, but I loathe taking them. It wasn't just for the blurry vision and sick feeling I got after taking them; they were also expensive. I knew that right now, after getting the truck a new carburetor, Darry and Soda just couldn't afford it, plain and simple.

That didn't mean if Darry and Soda found out he was out, they would sell the shirts off their backs to get it for me. So, I grabbed the aspirin bottle and tipped out five pills into my palm before I let them fall into the empty prescription bottle.

They weren't going to worry about this, not right now.

At least if no one looked closely, it looked like there were pills in the bottle. I knew Darry was too sharp to not notice if it was missing or empty. If he didn't look closely at the pills that clearly read Aspirin on them, I would be in the clear. Carefully, I capped both bottles and closed the medicine cabinet with shaky hands. Closing my eyes and feeling for the light switch, I was relieved when I hit it, and the light coming through my eyelids went away.

My head still pounded like someone broke a pop bottle against it, but I had done what I could for now, and all that was left was to sleep until Soda woke me up for school. So, I closed the bathroom and shuffled to mine and Soda's bed. Crawling between the warm covers, I resisted the urge to bury my head in Soda's chest. Soda reached an arm over and slung it across my shoulders, pulling me close. I let him, and it made me feel a little less dizzy. Just like that, I dropped off.

I dreamed of a rumble. A nasty one. We weren't just fighting with knuckles this time around. There were busted pop bottles, chains, and lead pipes. The fight was brutal; Johnny and I were ganging up on a big one when the big guy grabbed me by the shoulder and threw me into the ground. I gasped, grabbing at the Madres jacket he wore. He ripped the pop bottle out of my hand and broke it over my face. It hurt. It hurt so bad I just wanted to pass out.

"Ponyboy!" I hear Johnny yell over and over again, but I was trapped I couldn't move.

I just wanted the big soc to let go of me. Every time the socs shook my shoulder, another pulse of pain streaked through my head.

Then, I woke to someone actually shaking my shoulder. I felt drained. My head was thumping, but not because of a soc. It was just a nasty headache. But I still didn't want to get up. So, I just rolled away from Soda and hoped he'd get my drift that I didn't want to go to school.

I was wrong.

"Come on, Pony! Wake up! You're gonna be late for school!" Soda said, roughing my hair too exuberantly for six in the morning.

"No, Sodapop, stop it. I don't want to go to school." I whined like a kid.

Some tough 14-year-old I am.

I immediately regretted opening my big mouth. Soda froze then and rolled me over, looking me up and down with that anxious look he gets when Darry and I get sick. I squinted up at him, ashamed I had made Soda worry. The light was stinging my eyes, and Soda's movie star looks were blurry and out of focus. The pill hadn't worked its magic like I had hoped, and my head felt fit to pop.

Soda leaned over me.

"You feeling okay, baby?" Soda asked, putting the back of his warm hand on my forehead.

"You don't feel hot." Soda said, moving his hand up to run through my hair.

It felt nice.

I wanted to confess right there about lying about the headaches and being out of medicine. I just wanted to curl up with Soda, be a ball baby, and sleep off every bit of my pounding headache. Soda's superpower is getting me to spill my guts, but I knew I couldn't.

Soda was already in his DX shirt and half-ready for work. I could hear Darry in the kitchen fixing breakfast while talking to Steve and Two-Bit. I couldn't stop the world because I was feeling bad. We couldn't afford it, plain and simple.

"I am fine. I'm just tired." I lied, rolling away from my brother to get off the bed and walking to the bathroom to brush my teeth and take a few Aspirin. I hoped I was walking in a straight enough line to convince him I was alright. But, glory, I couldn't see. The world was blurry and moving even when I wasn't.

I could feel Soda's eyes on me. He knew something was up, but he didn't push. When I returned to our room, he was gone, and I got dressed and ready for school. Moving slower than I needed to. By the time I walked into the kitchen, Darry, Soda, Steve, and Two-Bit were sitting down eating breakfast. There, between Soda and Two, was a heaping plate of eggs for me, and I felt my stomach flip. I could practically feel myself getting green.

"Looky there! It's Sleeping Beauty!" Two-Bit greeted me with a smile.

Steve just looked at me and nodded.

Darry gave me a long look over with his icy blue eyes and looked concerned.

"Ponyboy, you ain't looking too good." Darry said in his matter-of-fact voice.

Soda, Two, and even Steve nodded in agreement, looking over me again. I felt myself redden slightly. I must look lousy if Steve agrees.

Desperate to not look like a sick kid, I spat out quick, "I'm alright." Play slapping Two-Bit upside the head for drinking my chocolate milk. I hoped they all bought the act and didn't think too much of me nearly missing Two-Bit.

Golly, I hope I can see straight again soon.

At least no one seemed to notice, and Darry seemed to relax some, and he gave me a small smile. Soda leaned in and tapped his shoulder against mine. I grinned, hoping I didn't look as bad as I felt.

I tried to eat the eggs, and somehow, I got them down and what was left of my chocolate milk. The more I ate, the more Soda started to joke around and get into it with Two and Steve, but Darry noticed me eating slowly and watched me like a hawk. He caught me wincing whenever the others got loud, and he narrowed his eyes.

The jig was up. Darry knew what was wrong with me. The only thing I could hope for now was for him not to bring it up, at least not in front of the gang. He knew I didn't like people knowing about my problem, even though everyone in the gang knew. It made me feel weak, like a baby, not like the tuff greaser I wanted to be. But this was Darry, so I braced myself for whatever talk we'd have before he left.

When breakfast was over, and without a wasted second, Darry asked me to help him put the plates in the sink. Great. Just great. I thought, sliding my chair back carefully and grabbing the plates off the table. Soda and Steve ran out the door and over to Steve's car. Two-Bit moved into the living room to watch Mickey Mouse waiting to drive Johnny and me to school.

It was just Darry, my pounding head, and me in the kitchen, and I drank in the silence.

Wordlessly, I handed Darry the plates, and he took them, setting them down into the sink before turning around and putting his hand on my forehead. I would have complained, but his hand was warm and felt nice against my aching head. I leaned into it and closed my eyes, blocking out the dizziness, hoping he'd not say anything.

There was no use lying to Darry.

Darry had always been good about my headaches. He got them too, from time to time, which is why I figured he was the best at picking up on when I was hiding one. Wordlessly, he hugged me and rubbed my neck and back, just like Dad used to do. I leaned my head onto his shoulder and didn't want to move. Why couldn't this be like this all the time with Darry? Why did he have to be so hard all the time?

"Hey, Pon, is your head hurting real bad?" He asked in a soft voice I only heard when Soda and I were sick.

"It only hurts a little." I said, thinking about how it felt this morning.

Compared to that, I'm not as bad.

Darry hummed a little, not fully buying my story, running his thumb in the tight muscles between my neck and shoulder.

"Did you take something? The pills the doc gave you?" He asked.

I nodded, knowing he'd feel it. At least, that was the truth.

"Are you up for going to school?" Darry asked. Darry asked if I needed to skip school. Had hell frozen over?

I looked up at Darry, and he looked concerned and tired. Way older than his twenty years.

"I am okay." I said, trying to give him a smile. He gave me a halfhearted one back before reaching out and squeezing my shoulder.

"I better get going, kiddo. Take it easy, please." Darry said, walking with me to the living room. He walked out the front door. Leaving me with Two-Bit and Mickey Mouse.

"Pull up a seat, Pony. Johnny should be here pretty quick." Two-Bit drawled, patting the floor next to him in front of the couch.

The room was spinning, and my head was reaching pop bottle levels of pounding again. I didn't want to be upright. So, I sat beside Two-Bit, and he slung an arm over my shoulder. He laughed at the screen, and I leaned back, closing my eyes.

I guess I fell asleep again because I woke up with Two-Bit's arm under my neck when I heard the screen door. My head was on fire, pounding against my eye. My vision was full of sparkling stars and black spots, and my stomach was in knots. I was gonna be sick. I got up and ran blindly to the bathroom. I dropped to my knees and lost my stomach in the toilet. The room spun so fast I didn't know which way was up.

My head felt fit to rip apart.

"Lordy, kid!" Two-Bit said, running up behind me and carefully putting a hand on my back.

"Ponyboy? Are you alright?" Johnny asks from behind me.

I couldn't say anything, too busy heaving up my breakfast.

"Shoot, Johnny, call Darry and tell him to call Pony out sick," Two-Bit said. I flinched at the noise. Two started rubbing my back again as I dry heaved.

"Sorry, kiddo." Two whispered, hushing me like he was looking after a baby, not some 14-year-old kid. I didn't much mind, my headache cranked up with every dry heave.

I was crying. Tears running down my face with every jolt of my insides. Thankfully, Two left the lights off and closed the door as soon as Johnny left. The darkness, if nothing else, gave me cover.

I heard Johnny run to the living room phone. I wanted to tell them no. Tell them I could go to school, but I couldn't. I was just too miserable to do anything but flush the toilet and flop over on the cool tile floor. My whole body hurt. I felt more, then saw Two-Bit run a hand over my forehead.

How many people were gonna do that today? I wondered absently.

"What's the matter, Pony? You ain't feeling warm." Two-Bit asked softly.

"Migraine." I whispered, curling up and pushing my head into my hands. I wanted Soda or Darry. I still couldn't see, great sparkling dots still dancing in my already blurry vision. My stomach lurched again. I groaned.

"Shhh, Little buddy, I'm sorry. It's gonna be okay." Two-Bit said. I hear him open a cabinet and grab what I guessed was a wash rag. I winced at the sound of running water coming from the sink tap.

"Move your hands, Pon." Two-Bit whispered, laying a cold towel across my eyes when I did.

Immediately, I relaxed, the cold seeping into my left eye. Two-Bit rubbed my neck slowly. I felt it releasing the pressure in my head. Dulling the pain from a sharp spike to a dull ache. I could hear Johnny talking to Darry on the phone in a quiet voice. I heard Two-Bit grab another towel before carefully lifting my head and sliding the folded towel under me. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to make it worse, and Two-Bit realized that. He was a good buddy to have.

There was a few-minute stretch where I just lay there focusing on breathing. Johnny must have come back because there was a light tap on the door. Two-Bit shifted and stood up, walking out of the bathroom. I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want to be alone, but I didn't think I could handle any more noise either.

There were footsteps outside, and then I heard the door open carefully. Who knew Two could be careful?

"Hey, Pon, I'm going to take Johnny to school. I'm gonna come right back. Don't go chasing girls while I'm gone." Two-Bit joked, flipping the rag over to the cool side. I hummed, grateful, and nodded slightly. Then he was gone, and in the silence I fell asleep.

Glory! It was cold when I woke up again. The house was completely quiet. No TV, no radio, and no noisy guys. I was on the cool bathroom floor in the semi-darkness. The wet rag over my face was cold and still damp; I carefully pulled it off my eyes. I kept them closed, a little worried I'd restart the headache if I opened them.

I wondered if Two-Bit was back from taking Johnny to school. Then, I felt terrible. Two needed to go to school too. I lay there trying to relax, but the unease of not knowing what was happening was eating me. So slowly, I opened my eyes. Immediately grateful that Two closed the bathroom door to keep it dark. My head was still sore, but it was just that, sore.

Slowly, I sat up, looking around the bathroom with thankfully clear vision. Then I saw Two-Bit sitting on the floor, watching me. Two-Bit raised his eyebrow at me in a silent question, "Are you good?"

Carefully, I nodded and grinned over at him.

He smiled back, looking relieved, and nudged my foot with his.

"What time is it?" I softly croaked my voice rough after getting sick.

Two-Bit just raised five fingers in reply.

Five! It was seven in the morning when I got sick. I've been here ten hours. Then I looked at Two-Bit. Had he sat in this little bathroom for ten hours looking out for me? I felt terrible he'd wasted his day dealing with me. Yikes, I owe a guy a soda.

"Where is Johnny?" I asked.

"He is with Dally at the movie house. He's awfully worried about you. We all are." Two-Bit finished standing up and grabbing the bottle of Aspirin, handing me four of them and a glass of water.

"Here, kiddo, take these. Darry said they are what's best for you." Two-Bit whispered, taking the glass back after I was done.

"Thank you. You didn't spend the whole day in here, did you?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yep." He said, popping the p. "Your old pal Two-Bit isn't gonna leave a little greaser dying on the floor. That ain't the kind of guy I am." he said softly, wiggling his eyebrow.

I was touched. Good Ole Two-Bit was a real buddy. This time, I nudged his foot and tried for a grateful grin. I still felt off, but if it was five, then the others would be here any minute.

"Let's go get dinner in the oven." I said, standing, holding on to the wall for balance. The world did a lazy barrel roll around me. I was still dizzy. Two-Bit was at my side in a second, grabbing my elbow.

"Easy, Ponyboy, you were awful sick today." Two-Bit said in a worried, serious voice that didn't fit him.

"I'll make dinner for everyone. You go lay down. Johnny got your homework for this weekend, so you don't need to worry about anything. We all know how bad your migraines get. Don't go making them worse. You dig?" I nodded and turned to my room.

"You are gonna give us all grey hair, kid." Two said as I closed my door.

I rolled my eyes and laid down on my bed, feeling kind of tired of laying down. At least my head wasn't hurting as much. I could almost ignore it.

It wasn't fifteen minutes later when I heard the screen door slam. Soda and Steve called out a greeting very quickly, followed by Two-Bit saying something softly. I rolled over from where I lay, shoving my face into a pillow. Two-Bit was telling the others. Damn, if Steve didn't think I was already a ball baby, he definitely did now. Before I could get wrapped up in humiliation, Soda was there crawling in the bed next to me, laying an arm over my back.

"Hey, Baby, are you feeling alright?" Soda asked softly. "Two just told us you got awful sick today."

My ears burned with embarrassment.

"I am alright, Soda, I promise." I said, looking over at my brother, smiling.

Soda hummed and rubbed my back.

"Did you take the medicine the doctors gave you?" Soda asked, looking deep into my eyes, watching for any hint of a lie.

"Yeah, I took the medicine. I took it at five this morning. It just didn't work this time." I said, rolling to lie across Soda, wrinkling my nose. His DX shirt needed to be washed. It smelt like gear oil and sweat.

"You need to take a shower." I said, rolling back off Soda and the bed too. I roughed up his hair, thankful he didn't use as much grease as the rest of the gang.

Soda hummed. He always liked having his hair messed with.

"You should have said something if you were sick, baby." Soda said, giving me a stern look, or as much as Soda could with his hair all messed up.

I turned around so he wouldn't see me roll my eyes at him. There was nothing they could have done. Two had me well cared for; I wouldn't have wanted to cost Soda any of his paychecks. I knew he was saving for a new jacket; the old one of Darry's was falling to pieces, and Soda had caught up to all of Darry's old hand-me-downs.

"I will." I lied through my teeth.

I hate lying to Soda, but there really wasn't anything I could do to fix the problem. Soda was the only one out of the three of us who didn't get migraines. Because of that, he tore himself up whenever Darry or I had a bad one, not quite getting that the best thing anyone could do was drop us in a dark room. Darry was a better person to turn to, but the frequency of mine really freaked him out. I was just tired of the whole ordeal, tired of doctors and worried brothers and buddies. I was always fine after a little bit.

Soda gave me a hug before walking into the bathroom. I followed him out the door. My dizziness had faded, and I was feeling better. So, I walked to the living room and plopped next to Johnny on the couch. Dallas, Steve, and Johnny were watching Mickey.

Johnny gave me a worried look, watching me real close. I bumped him in the shoulder, trying to tell him I was okay. He smiled a little and leaned against me.

"Glad you're feeling better, Pony." Johnny said so softly that only Dally,

sitting on the other side of Johnny, and I could hear.

Dallas looked at me appraisingly before doing the most not-like-Dallas thing I'd ever seen him do. He ruffled my hair, not saying a word. Neither did I. I just accepted it; Dallas was a mind unto himself, and I never quite knew where we stood with one another. One day, he'd treat me like Johnny, then the next, he'd be fit to bop me like Steve.

Steve just gave me an unreadable look and walked into the kitchen. At least I'd always know where I stand with Steve Randle, and that was as his best friend's tag-a-long kid brother.

I focused on the TV screen, watching Donald Duck fly off the handle; Dally chuckled. Soda walked in wearing only his pajama pants and sat in front of me on the floor, leaning against my knees and pinning me on the couch. His wet hair dripping on the jeans I never bothered taking off.

That's how Darry found us huddled on the couch. Steve had come back and reclaimed Darry's recliner at some point.

Darry gave Steve a pointed look and spoke. "You got five minutes kiddo."

Steve didn't even wait five seconds before skittering out of Darry's chair and onto the floor with Soda.

"Hey, Darry!" Soda greeted cheerfully.

The rest of the gang and I chimed in a hello. Darry glanced over at me and Soda, giving me an appraising look before the tight, worried look on his face relaxed.

Maybe five minutes later, Two-Bit stuck his head out of the kitchen and called soups-on. Darry was in his recliner and did a double-take when Two-Bit called us in. None of us had ever seen Two-Bit cook before. It usually was Soda, Darry, or I manning the kitchen. I could only imagine Two-Bit's cooking style would make Soda's look tame.

Even though I was feeling better, I wasn't too excited about eating anything. So, Johnny and I were at the back of the pack, walking into the kitchen, expecting the worst.

The kitchen table was set for seven, and to my surprise, the food looked amazing and smelled even better. Golden fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and a heaping pile of corn were on the table. The whole gang stared at Two-Bit, mouths open.

"Glory! Two-Bit, where did you learn to cook like this?" Soda said eagerly, sitting down and loading his plate. Everyone followed, passing around the serving dishes.

"What made you think that I couldn't cook?" Two drawled, catching my eye and giving me a wink. "Who else is gonna feed Susie when my mom is at work."

"Susie." I said in a half-joking tone. Susie was a great cook. She was only a few months younger than me, and when we were kids, we were friends before I started skipping grades. I suppose cooking ability runs in their family.

"And who do you think taught her everything she knows?" Two said, puffing up like a proud peacock.

And before I could say anything, Johnny added, "Your Mom."

Then, the table erupted in surprised laughter. Dally patted Johnny on the back, and even Darry laughed. The first I'd heard in a few days. Two-Bit deflated before grinning.

"This is pretty good." Steve said through a mouth full of chicken.

The other guys hummed in agreement.

"Pon, are you gonna eat anything?" Two-Bit asked, looking at me worried.

Dally shot me a warning look before Darry said, "You bet you are."

Steve shoved the bowl of potatoes at me, taking the spoon and plopping a scoop right dead center.

"At least eat this." He said, not unkindly.

I picked up my fork and scooped up a bit of potato. Everyone was watching me. It was really awkward. My stomach wasn't thrilled about eating, but with one last glare from Dally, I put the food in my mouth. It was good, and I was relieved when my stomach settled down. Once I started eating, the rest of the guys started talking.

It was a nice night. My head wasn't hurting anymore, and all seven of us were enjoying ourselves. We ate, played poker, and fooled around, everyone staying over for the night.

Before I went to bed, Darry stopped me and grabbed my shoulder.

"Are you feeling better, little colt? You sure had Two-Bit and Johnny scared," He asked, looking at me worried.

"I'm alright." I said for the first time that day being truthful.

Darry smiled and patted me on the back.

"Goodnight, Pony." he said, turning to his room.

"Goodnight, Dar." I said, turning back to Soda and I's room.

I crawled into bed with Soda, and he slung his arm over me. Just like that, I was out like a light. Feeling happy I could count on my brothers and the gang.

FIN