AN: We're just going to pretend that setting a nose is as easy as moving it back into place, because I really don't want to have to go through the actual process, and I feel like this is more accurate to what they'd do as parentless greasers in the sixties. Also, I keep forgetting to mention this but this fic is written prior to 'the Great Johnny Jumping' so his character is a little different than you're probably used to. I'm doing my best to make him canon but we were never able to meet his character before he was jumped, since that was like a super important part of his character development, so I'm kinda making it up as I go along. As always, thank you to my editor, you've been the biggest help and your input means the world to me! Review!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders!

Ponyboy's POV

I lie on the floor of Darrel Curtis' living room. In Darrel Curtis' house. Surrounded by Darrel Curtis' snoring friends. I replayed the night in my head, desperately trying to remember how I ended up in this position. I couldn't. It was impossible. It's been years since I slept in an actual house, let alone one with people in it. I remember Sodapop mentioning that they'd like me to stay and how they'd love to get to know me better. I remember banter from the others over who gets to sleep where and Darry apologizing for the mess of their house. I remember asking Steve if their parents would be mad with me there. I remember him saying that they were dead and Darry owned the house now. I remember Darry grabbing me a blanket and pillow from the closet in the hall. I remember lying down with Two-bit on my left and Dally on the couch on my right, Steve in the spare room down the hall and Johnny on the reclining chair. But I can't for the life of me remember accepting their offer for me to stay the night.

Johnny's POV

It's dark in the Curtis house. I can't help but think about the night before, sleeping in the silent lot, the night air cool against my skin, and the streetlights keeping me up. It's not cold in their house. It never is. And the guys are loud, never silent. Talking, shouting, singing, during the day; snoring during the night. I bite back a smile. My friends are really annoying. But I love them. They're the brothers that I never had.

Today has been an odd day. I spent a lot of it with Dally, watching him work with his horse and talk business with Buck. Then we talked to Darry and Steve in Darry's driveway while they worked on his truck. Steve had bruises and marks along his arms, and his nose had a slow stream of blood coming that didn't stop until we went inside and Darry set it. I could tell from the way Steve flinched, it had hurt. I've somehow been lucky enough to avoid breaking my nose. Most of the boys on the east side—especially ones with abusive parents—aren't so fortunate. I had wanted to ask what had happened to him, but I wasn't sure how to bring it up. I shouldn't have worried though. Dally had it covered.

"What happened to your face? Did you run into a wall or something?" Dally chuckled at his own joke and I had to bite back a grin. Something serious could have happened! He could have been jumped! And he was clearly in pain! But the image that flashed through my mind of him running into a wall at the DX was awfully comical.

He had given Dally a glare, saying, "A kid was getting jumped on my walk home. The Socs would have killed him, but I stepped in." Darry gave him an odd look at that, and I wondered if he had even known why he was cleaning Steve up.

After that, Steve called Soda at the DX, asking him to bring his jacket home when he left work. Two-Bit and Soda showed up at about the same time, asking Steve what happened to him. Soda sent him a look after he had explained, his expression almost doubting, similar to the one Darry had made.

Once everyone was there, we went to The Dingo for dinner. After eating we made the decision to go back to Darry's house to play poker. We walked away from the table to find Dally and a small boy glaring at each other, both holding the other in a firm grip. Two-Bit was there, too, holding his knife off to the side. Steve stopped all of us with his gasp. He quickly explained while Darry, Dallas, and Two-Bit took the boy down.

The boy was interesting. On the way back from the diner, he stopped and watched the sunset. We all watched his reaction. It was incredible the hold the sky had on this boy. I looked too, trying to figure out what the big deal was. I stopped in my tracks at the sight before me. It was beautiful. I was so used to the sky being a boring light blue or a dead dark blue. I don't think I've ever stopped to watch a sunset or a sunrise. I'm disappointed by all the missed opportunities. The sunset itself was crazy enough, but the courage this boy showed by stopping and reacting to it in front of a gang of greasers was insane.

Now that boy lies below me, not making a sound. I don't think he's asleep. If he is, he's the quietest sleeper I've ever heard. I'm lying on the recliner, having been convinced by the entire gang to stay the night. They were all staying. I figured I might as well take advantage of that.

His name is Ponyboy. I've never heard a name like that. Sure, Soda's name was real original and everyone knew Keith by his chosen name, Two-Bit. But he was right. Sodapop and Two-Bit both meant something. Two-Bit is sort of like a description or a warning, so you know what you're in for the moment you meet him. And Sodapop… well it's a type of beverage. Besides, it suits him. Better than any other name would. I suppose Ponyboy suits this boy as well. Though I think Ponyboy is just too… serious? That's not the right word but I feel like Pony would fit him better. Just Pony. Ponyboy sounds like something someone would say when they're angry. Like when some parents add their kids' middle names when yelling at them. It's too… formal. I suppose that's a better word for it. Formal.

I don't know… I'm still amazed at how he's been acting today. Steve told us that the kid isn't from around here. He looks like a greaser though. And he kinda talks like one too. But I don't know of any greaser that would stop and watch the sunset in front of other people like that. Or one that would pick a fight with someone twice his size. Dallas Winston at that. Not to mention, he was real worried about his parents. Most of us would just call if we were worried but he didn't. And he had already said something about his father being a drunk. That's not exactly uncommon in this part of town, but generally if your parents are alcoholics, you don't worry about bothering them. Besides, I had overheard Steve and Soda talking earlier and Steve thinks that he probably doesn't have a family, or a bad one at least. Ponyboy is just a weird kid, I guess.

I finally dozed at what I guessed was about 1:30 in the morning. I don't know how long I had been sleeping when I jerked awake at the sound of a door closing.

Ponyboy's POV

I barely slept. I had a hard time getting comfortable on Darry's floor, Two-Bit lying far too close. Not to mention, Dally was just above me on the couch. I couldn't seem to rid myself of the image of him shaking me by the front of my shirt. And Darry was so tall and intimidating. He'd never been anything but nice to me but I still can't help the fear that courses through me whenever he walks into the room. And I'm in his house.

I glance at the others in the room. All of them have their eyes closed and I can hear snoring coming from down the hall. They're all asleep. If I'm going to escape, now is my chance. I sit up slowly, still looking at the others. I gather the pillow and blanket that I borrowed and slip them silently back in the closet by the kitchen. My heart is beating extra fast as I slide my shoes on. I don't know why, but I feel really guilty about leaving these boys this way. I don't really want to. They've been very kind to me. Maybe they could become my friends? No. It's just too dangerous. I told them my name. My real name. I haven't done that since I left home. There are some names you could forget but I don't think 'Ponyboy' is one of them. No one can remember me. I made a mistake in telling them my name. I need to leave now before it's too late. Snatching my bag, I open the door and step out onto the porch. I stop at what I see.

In front of me sits Darry's truck and what I was told is Steve's car. I let out a sigh. Steve. I don't want to hurt his feelings. And Darry has been so kind to me. I've never met anyone like these guys. With a roll of my eyes, I realize that trying to escape was absolutely ridiculous. Not because I'm not capable of it. But because I just don't have it in me to deny any type of kindness. I lean against the railing, thinking about how stupid this is. I can't believe I'm so lonely that I would put myself in potential danger just to maybe become friends with a bunch of strangers. I don't know how much time has passed when I look up to find the sun rising before me.

"So do you just watch these every day?"

I jump at the unexpected voice. The boy stands behind me. The dark one whose name I don't know. "Yeah, I try to," I respond quietly.

"It's beautiful," he remarks. I only nod.

"I'm Johnny, by the way. I don't think anyone introduced me." he holds out hand.

"Ponyboy," I say, taking it. "Some name, huh?" He chuckles.

"Yeah, some name. Are you planning on leaving soon? I saw that you put all of your sleeping stuff away and you kinda seemed ready to bolt last night."

"Uh, I don't know. I was planning on leaving as I packed everything up. But I don't know anymore…" he laughed again.

"I definitely know what you mean. These guys… there's just something about them. They almost draw you in. It's like once one of 'em decides he likes you, it's all over. You're just a part of the gang. It happened to me when I was eight. Soda was nine and he just saw me once. He brought me here, introduced me, gave me a little food. That's it. That's all it took. Now I sleep here half the time and they're more my family than my actual family is." He paused, a thoughtful smile playing on his lips. "Your life is never gonna be the same again."

I sigh. "I was worried about that. What am I gonna do? I can't stay here. My life is just too complicated for that."

"I thought so, too. My parents… they don't like me all that much. But I was welcomed here. And in spite of that I continue to have problems, my parents haven't changed their opinions of me, and my life is still complicated. But these guys make it a lot easier. I have somewhere to go. When I'm hungry or hurt or lonely. I can come here. I'm always welcome here. From what the others were saying yesterday, you are too. You're welcome here." I sigh again, hoping for a subject change. As if reading my mind, Johnny turns back to the sunrise, his expression one of grim curiosity. "What's it like? To be jumped? What do you think could have happened if Steve hadn't stepped in?" He asked.

"Um…" so this is what Steve had told them? That he had stopped me from getting jumped, not the other way around? Huh. I guess that's why he looked at me weird at The Dingo. "Well, it's scary. I sorta made a big mistake though. They got me on the ground really fast. Just made it easier for them to kick me. And kick they did! Geez, they really went after my sides." I touch my ribs gingerly at the memory. "But the worst was the knife. I got lucky, though. Steve showed up before they could do anything with that. Still scared the bejesus outta me." I chuckled a little and he did too.

"Ponyboy!" The shout sounded distant from inside the house. I looked at Johnny, confused. Why were they shouting for me? He just shrugged. We opened the front door, barely avoiding being plowed down by a frantic Sodapop. He tripped over his shoeless feet and looked up at us. Doing a double take at our bewildered faces, he broke into a giant grin.

"Hey, kids. Steve is going just about crazy in there. Thinks you ran off or something, Ponyboy. Man, you must have made a really good first impression. Steve doesn't usually take too well to strangers. But he seems to really care about you!" Soda jumped to his feet, completely unfazed.

"Lucky you." Johnny grinned at me.

"Lucky me," I laughed. We opened the door once again, stopping at the sight in front of us.

"NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! HE NEEDS OUR HELP! HE SHOULDN'T BE OUT ON HIS OWN! WE NEED TO GO OUT AND FIND—" Steve cut off his rampage at the sight of us. The rest of the guys stood behind him, looking very amused. "Ponyboy."

"Um… I was just watching the sunrise and talking to Johnny." I paused, scratching my neck. "We talked about how you saved me from those guys. What did you call them?" I tried to keep my face innocent as he got slightly paler. I understand that he has a reputation and I wouldn't reveal the truth, but I can't help wondering what he would have said about this had I not shown up. Besides, it's kinda funny.

He swallowed. "Socs. They were Socs."

"Right…" I wasn't sure what else there was to talk about. I was seriously considering just bolting again whenTwo-Bit spoke up.

"Glory, kid, you stink!" He waved his hand in front of his nose. I felt my face get hot with embarrassment.

"That's just 'cause I spent the night next to you," I tried to laugh it off. He laughed, too, followed by the others snorts and words of agreement. I hope I didn't offend him too much, but in my defense, he started it!

"If you'd like to get the Smell of Two-Bit off of you, you're welcome to take a shower. The bathroom is just down the hall to the left. There are towels under the sink." Darry pointed to the hallway.

"Okay… thanks," I say, hiking my bag up on my shoulder and walking down the hall to the bathroom. I can hear the others talking quietly behind me, but I can't make out anything they're saying. The bathroom was small but bright and oddly homie. It had been quite a while since I'd been in an actual bathroom. It was nice.

And so was Darry. I don't know what made him so frightening to me. He'd only ever been nice. But I still can't help being suspicious of his motives. I've certainly met my fair share of untrustworthy people. In spite of that, I feel obligated to trust these people. I can feel it in my bones, like I'm drawn to them. It surely wouldn't be the first time I've felt that way.

Golly, I hope I'm right about this one.