I'm sorry if this was a late chapter! These chapters have been growing longer somehow and I don't know if it's going to be 12 or even 14 chapters at this point. Still, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy this chapter!! :D

I laid on Two-Bit's couch for longer than I'd wanted to. My whole body was still aching but the feeling was more of a dull pain. Even with three aspirins the pain in my head remained, throbbing at any moment I wanted to speak. Two-Bit was silent too, for the first time, he didn't even have the TV on.

I wanted to do nothing but stay on his couch. Two-Bit seemed to feel the same, with the way his head was rested on the cushions. Every time I tried to relax, my mind would go to the socs, then to my brothers. After a moment or two of doing nothing, I stood up. Instantly Two-Bit was right next to me, a careful hand on my forearm. I could tell that he didn't want to scare me but he also didn't want me to be doing anything. He gave me a worried and questioning look.

"Darry or Soda are probably home," I told him, "I gotta get back so they could give me a lecture." I tried to joke to lighten the mood. Two-Bit rolled his eyes, "Watch what ya say 'bout 'em or else." His threat was meaningless as he started to lead me out of his house. Still, I laughed a bit at it, knowing that he couldn't wrestle me in the state we were both in. I tried to ignore the tendrils of pain that came from laughing as Two-Bit stumbled out.

As I got back into Two-Bits car, I continued to watch as he stumbled, almost falling as he made it to the driver's seat. I realized that the seat had some drops of blood, some that even I knew would be hard to get out. When we finally were on the road, I continued to watch as he drove the actual speed limit. Something told me that he was doing it for himself rather than me. As we finally parked in front of my house, I breathed a sigh of relief when there was no one's car outside.

"Ya comin' in?" I asked Two-Bit as I hobbled out of the car, leaning on it for support. He thought for a moment, his eyes flickering to the road. "Naw, I oughta get back. Need some me and Mickey time," He joked. I rolled my eyes, knowing that he preferred to watch Mickey in my house. Which meant he was going to do something stupid, or just stay home, nothing of the latter.

I opened the gate, hearing it scream at the hinges. Two-Bit drove away, still going the speed limit. I stepped into the empty house, listening to the soft hum of the refrigerator. Other than that sound, the house was silent. If Sodapop were inside, he'd be making enough noise for the seven of us, I thought as I strained my ears for any noise. The silence helped my head, allowing the consistent throb to dull out. Content with my head not aching as much, I made my way to the kitchen.

Part of me wanted to go to sleep, but the other part of me wanted lunch. As if on cue, my stomach let out a small gurgle that threw me out of the thoughts of my pain. I tried to stay focused as I made a sandwich. When my sandwich was done, I hobbled over to the couch, careful not to stumble into any furniture. The sandwich in my hands reminded me that I hadn't eaten for what felt like decades.

Before I let myself eat, I got up to get some water, my parched throat dry as I walked to to cupboard. As I held a glass in my hand, all I could think was the sound of crashing glass from all the fights I had been in. My mind wandered, swirling and clouding everything that I had and hadn't been thinking. It had only felt like a moment, but before I knew it, the sound of crashing glass threw me out of my trance.

Steve was suddenly holding my wrist, pressing down hard on a bruise I had covered up. I winced, pulling my arm back and hitting that glass before cradling my wrist. His green eyes were wild as they looked into my gray ones. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" He all but yelled. The words got caught in my throat, but then it hit me.

"Getting water," I said bluntly, trying to play it off. He looked at me incredulously, obviously not believing a word I said. Still, I stayed firm on my answer. "What does getting water have to do with breaking glass on the floor?" Steve yelled. I flinched back, my hand falling to the counter where I had broken the glass once again. I felt as if some of the glass pricked me, causing me to groan a bit and pull my hand back.

My hand was bleeding a bit, the blood dripping onto the excess glass on the floor. Once again I was looking at the shards, remembering every fight that had happened again. It was involuntary, I wanted to stop thinking about it- to make a snarky remark to Steve- but I just couldn't. I was frozen in fear in my own house, the only thing kicking me out of it was Steve pushing me away to clean up the glass.

I walked to the couch, glancing at the time. I had been standing with a glass cup for two hours, just looking at the glass. Well- remembering all the times I had been jumped. I bit my lip hard, waiting for it to draw blood. My sandwich on the table was unappealing now, causing my stomach to churn at the thought of even eating it. Carefully, I picked it up and put it in the fridge.

Steve was still cleaning up the glass, sweeping it, and putting it in a plastic bag before throwing it away. The second he was finished, I watched as he looked around before his eyes landed right on my hand. I had forgotten about it, the pain of it being dulled out by the other injuries I had. Blood was still dripping from it, casing him to scrunch his eyebrows at the sight. He got up, sighing as he took my wrist.

Images of the socs holding me down flashed through my mind. He was going to hurt me, I just knew it in my heart. I panicked, flinging myself to the wall and away from his grasp. His eyes were wide as they looked at me. I could tell he was fighting with himself, to either play nice or get mad. My eyes started stinging, an obvious sign that I was close to crying. Some injuries on my back burned from the impact of me hitting the wall and my head hit it harder than what I'd wanted it to, sending a spike of pain. I bit back a groan of pain as Steve carefully put up his hands, as if to show he was harmless.

Without realizing it, my arms had gone up to protect myself, with them covering my face and torso, and my breathing started to increase rapidly. His arms were still up as if continuing to show me that he was safe. He made no effort to walk towards me, most likely waiting until I was "okay" to do anything. For a moment we looked at each other, him with his worried green eyes, and me with my teary green-grey eyes. Finally, I put my hands down and slid down the wall until my knees were up to my chest.

Steve watched every moment until I was on the floor. When I was, he slowly walked away, keeping an eye on me until he was out of my sight. I hid my face in my hands, ignoring the small bout of pain I felt from a piece of glass in my hand touching my face. I couldn't think of anything else other than the fact that I hated the weak feeling I had, and the guilt in my gut that screamed at me.

"Ight kid lift your head," A voice said, softer than I've ever heard it before. I froze, suddenly scared again. Steadily, I lifted my head up until I saw Steve. He was a safe distance away, around a meter, and he held the first-aid kit in his hands. His eyebrows were furrowed and I could tell that it was taking everything in him not to make a snarky comment.

"Can I help you with the scratch?" Steve asked. Paralyzed with fear, my mind raced while thinking of which scratch. Had he seen the scratches along my arms? Maybe the new one from the switchblade I couldn't dodge? His eyes flickered to my hand and I let out a sigh of relief. Slowly, I nodded and slowly put my hand out.

Steve looked annoyed for a bit, almost as if he was ready to make a snarky remark. For some reason, he held his tongue and gently sat down in front of me. Taking my hand, his calloused hands worked with tweezers to get some of the glass out. The pain in my hand was minor compared to everything else and Steve must've known. Every few moments he would jab harder than he needed to, then furrow his eyebrows.

"Jesus kid," Steve finally huffed out as he continued digging for glass. I bit my lip, unsure of how to answer. Part of me wanted to apologize, but, not to him. I wanted to apologize to Dally and Buck for getting them into this mess. But I wanted to apologize to Two-Bit for getting him jumped almost instantly. Not as quickly as Buck but still in that range.

My lip quivered as Steve continued to work on my hand. Tears slowly started to fall from my eyes, hitting some of the cuts and burning. Steve looked up at me, his eyes going to the scratches on my face. "What the hell happened?" He demanded. Quickly I took my other hand and started wiping at the tears, "Nothing, it doesn't matter. Why would I even tell you?"

Steve's hold tightened on my hand, "What the hell do you mean by that? You got the entire damn gang worried about you." His eyes were wild and for some reason, I didn't understand what he was talking about. Still, he continued. "I don't care how tough you think you are fucking brat. You have me trying to watch wherever the fuck you go. This morning your brothers were so damn worried that Darry was about to call the police."

My eyes widened with fear as Steve continued yelling. "So yeah Ponyboy, it kind of does fucking matter. Because with the way you are going, you're gonna die before the end of the week!" His breathing was ragged and his hold on my hand was hurting me. Yet, his eyes stayed on me, "You're gonna tell me what the fuck has been happening."

Those words sounded familiar…

Tears started to fall out of my eyes faster than they ever had before. I looked into my lap, watching as my pants were discolored with my tears. "Im sorry," I said, not to him, but to Dally. "Im sorry-" For Buck, "Im sorry-" for Two-Bit. All I could say was "sorry," and truly feel the guilt that came from it. Before I knew it, Steve was gripping me by the shoulders, shaking me out of the trance I had put myself in. Instead of angry, his eyes were calm- worried- but calmer than I was.

"It's okay kid. Calm down," he said, his voice back to the soft one I had only heard today. I settled down, my breathing back to normal. He went back to tending to my hand, this time quietly. "D-dont tell Soda," I whispered gulping in relief after I had said it. His head shot up at my words, his eyes almost glaring at me. "The fuck-" he caught his words and sighed, obviously restraining himself, "Why the hell not?"

I took an unsteady breath, "Because he's already got a lot to worry about. 'Specially with Dal in the hospital. I wouldn't want him to stop me from going to school." Steve's glare hardened on me as he looked at me. I knew that my appearance was probably horrible. My hair was a mess, and I was sure that there was some blood on the back of my head. But, I pretended to have a brave face as Steve glared at me.

"You're a really fucking stupid kid," Steve finally huffed out as he got up. I let out a sigh of relief, only watching as he extended his hand. "Get up, I think your heads bleedin'. Follow me to the bathroom." With the way he said it, I felt a shiver go down my spine. He wasn't done interrogating me… no… this was just the beginning.

3

No POV

Steve shifted uncomfortably on the recliner. Every time he thought he had gotten comfortable, a small piece of him would be sticking out of the blanket he was under. It wasn't that it was cold, but rather he would keep a blanket on. Johnny was asleep near him, not moving much. At first, Steve just thought that Johnny was waiting for him to go to sleep, but the constant rustling from Steve made it known that Johnny was just asleep.

Everyone in the gang knew that Johnny was a light-sleeper. They all didn't want to think of why he was, but, it was common knowledge that he was. Yet, the soft snores that came from him told Steve that soft rustling wasn't enough to wake him.

Steve looked at the ceiling, counting all the cracks in it. He was trying to get his mind off of what Johnny had said, or what Two-Bit had said as well. Ponyboy had been hurt and the only thing on Steve's mind was to insult Ponyboy. It isn't my fault, Steve reminded himself, kid should've just yelled or something.

The thought of Ponyboy being ganged up on while they were inside the DX made him sick to the stomach. He couldn't shake the image of Sodapop holding onto Ponyboy's stomach out of his head. Of course, he had seen blood, but never from the kid. If the kid ever bled, Soda and Darry would instantly make sure that it was all cleaned up before the drop of a hat.

But in that case, he had to call the cops and let them know that someone had been stabbed. It was a call he never thought he would have to make for the smallest in the gang. Other than Johnny.

Steve shook himself out of his thoughts, finally finding a comfortable spot on the recliner. He understood why Sodapop worried so much about Ponyboy, he was a trouble magnet after all. And Steve could even understand why Darry yelled at the brat. Ponyboy just never knew when to tell the gang about an issue.

And Steve hated that.

~

The light streamed in from a window in the kitchen. Steve opened his eyes, hearing a door slam near him. He sat up groggily, ready to see if it was Darry who had left. Instead, when his eyes focused, he noticed that Johnny was gone. It wasn't unusual for Johnny to leave without telling anyone, but something felt off.

Steve got up, looking at how Johnny had left his blanket disheveled on the couch. He inspected it more, quickly making his way to the front door. All he caught was a glimpse of Johnny jogging away. Part of him was ready to go after Johnny, but the other part thought that maybe he was going to meet with Dallas. So, Steve sat back down on the recliner, unsure what else to do.

His mind flashed back to Ponyboy in the bathroom, with his bandages all bloody. The sight made Steve worry for a moment before he realized the kid must've been moving around in his sleep. After all, his nightmares had started to get worse after the jumping. So Steve lied to Ponyboy and told him it was normal, hoping that maybe Darry was there to ask Ponyboy about it. After Darry had been there, Ponyboy figured it was fine. Steve knew that if Darry thought it was fine, then it most likely was.

After a bit of sitting down, Sodapop ran into the living room. Steve jumped up a bit, looking right at his best friend. Sodapop looked around frantically, almost as if looking for something- or someone. "Hey Soda," Steve greeted and Sodapop turned to him.

"Mornin' have ya seen Pony?" Sodapops voice was light, but Steve caught on to the bit of worry behind it. Steve shook his head, "Nope, just saw Johnny run out a bit ago." Sodapop slightly relaxed but tensed up again. Steve felt a bit of worry settle in his mind as Sodapop sat down on the couch.

"Is everythin' alright?" Steve asked softly. Sodapop sighed, shaking his head. "He looked more injured last night… somethin' happened that he ain't tellin' us 'bout," Sodapop admitted. Steve nodded, unsure of what else to say. They all knew that the kid was hiding something, and they knew that he wasn't going to tell anyone.

"I should've stayed with them… I should've stayed and made sure that Ponyboy didn't leave the house," Sodapop whispered. Steve rolled his eyes, not in annoyance, but in a way that was to show Sodapop that there was pretty much nothing he could've done. "Dally suggested to stay here with the kid. Brat probably convinced him to go somewhere," Steve stated.

Sodapop nodded, a brief smile coming onto his face. Even he knew how convincing Ponyboy could be, especially when injured. Steve settled back onto the recliner knowing that Sodapop was more at ease made it easier for him to relax.

Darry walked into the living room, confused as to why Steve and Sodapop were up. "Mornin… Where's Pony?" Darry asked, hoping that Ponyboy was sleeping. Steve shrugged and Sodapop tried to explain what he knew. Steve watched as Darrys face grew in concern.

"So you're saying we don't know where our injured brother is?" Darry asked accusatory. Sodapop nodded, "Steve said he saw Johnny go with 'im, but I dunno where Johnny could be." Darry sighed and went to the bathroom. Sodapop stayed standing and turned to Steve.

"Why can't Pony just tell us where he goes or what's happening." Sodapops statement hit Steve and he saw how concerned Sodapop was. Darry looked at the both of them, concern continuing to grow in his features. Steve knew that he was close to calling the police and having them find out where Ponyboy was. He would've, if the state wasn't always on their asses.

Steve cringed at the memory of Darry exposing what had happened to Ponyboy to the state. The social worker was concerned of course, but, seeming almost as if she wanted a reason to take Ponyboy out of Darry's custody. Still, bystanders were able to confirm that it was common for kids like Ponyboy to get jumped. And Steve hated that.

They all stayed silent for a moment before Sodapop went to get ready for work. Steve's mind was still filled with the past events, his hands clenching and unclenching. While Sodapop was getting ready for work, the phone started ringing, throwing Steve out of his "trance."

Steve took the phone, hoping that it was Johnny or Ponyboy. When he heard it was Ponyboy, he felt a small bit of relief. Until he realized that Ponyboy was at the hospital. Spilling the news to his brothers wasn't fun for Steve. He kept trying to explain that Dally was in the hospital, but both of Ponys brothers were already rushing to get into the truck and go to the hospital.

Steve followed along, unsure of what to say to the kid. He knew that if he did say anything, it was going to come out wrong. So, when he saw the kid, he kept his mouth shut. However, Steve knew that Sodapop and Darry were sure to have a talk with the kid. Especially because they were all confused as to how Ponyboy knew that Dally was in the hospital.

However, they all saw one thing…

That Buck was closer to the kid. Steve watched the two, up until Ponyboy left with Buck back to the house. He wondered about their interactions and what could've happened. But, all those thoughts were thrown out when he had to go to the DX with Sodapop.

Sodapop hardly paid attention to the girls around him. Maybe he'd give them a short complement, but that was all. He couldn't find it in him to be more flirty than what he already was with them. Steve caught on, concerned, but also knowing that it had everything to do with Ponyboy.

"Ya good Soda?" Steve asked as Sodapop came into the garage. Steve was only supposed to work half of what Sodapop was going to. Mostly because of how he was more part-time rather than full-time like Sodapop. But he had stayed because of how Sodapop was acting.

Sodapop sat on a tire near Steve, sighing and putting his elbows on his knees. Steve got out from under the car he was working on and walked over to Soda. "Steve, could ya do me a favor?" Sodapop said. Steve nodded, "Sure, what is it?"

Soda looked up at Steve, "Could ya check on Pony? I thought Two-Bit was supposed ta be with him, but he just came by here. Said Pony was alone at home." Steve's heart dropped for Sodapop. His best friend tried to hold his tongue, but Steve knew that he was unhappy with the fact that Two-Bit was there instead of with Ponyboy. Still, Steve nodded, "Yeah, I'll head there right now." And with that, Steve was on his way to the Curtis house.

Steve walked inside, being careful as he did so. He looked around, keeping an eye out for Ponyboy. When he did spot him, all he saw was Ponyboy holding a glass, an almost dazed look in his eyes. Steve ran over and grabbed Ponyboy's wrist, causing him to drop the glass. In almost a second, Ponyboy flinched back and hit his hand on the glass. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Steve yelled, his heart racing.

"Getting water," Ponyboy replied, almost delayed. Steve was close to smacking some sense into Ponyboy. But, he saw Ponyboy's eyes. They were nearly empty, almost as if he was staring right past Steve. The sight made the hairs on Steve's neck prickle up. Still, he knew he had to talk sense into the kid.

"What does getting water have to do with breaking glass on the floor?" Steve yelled. Ponyboy flinched back, his hand hitting the glass again. Shit, Steve panicked as he watched some blood drible, from Ponyboys hand, his hands bleeding, Steve thought. When Ponyboy didn't answer, Steve knew that he had to do something about the glass. Quickly, Steve pushed Ponyboy out of the way of the glass and started picking it up. "I swear kid," Steve muttered under his breath as Ponyboy walked away.

When Steve was done cleaning up the glass, Ponyboy walked near him. Steve looked at Ponyboy's hand, taking it and looking at it. However, he couldn't look at it for long before Ponyboy flinched back and his back hit the wall. Steve just looked at him, more concerned than what he wanted to admit. Two-Bit should've never left the kid alone, Steve thought as he held his arms up hoping that Ponyboy would stop looking at him as if he was a soc. It worked as Ponyboy slid down the wall, leaving a small trail of blood behind his head.

The sight made Steve feel sick to his stomach as he carefully rushed to the bathroom for the first aid kid Darry always had on hand. When he found it, he went back to Ponyboy. "Ight kid lift your head," Steve said, knowing that he couldn't just approach the kid normally. He had already seen twice what had happened when he did. He pushed away the thought that the kid was acting more and more like Johnny, especially with the way he was flinching at almost everything.

"Can I help you with the scratch?" Steve asked, hoping that his voice didn't sound too harsh. It must've worked as Ponyboy nodded and put his hand out. "Jesus kid," Steve muttered as he watched Ponyboy flinch slightly every time he had to take out a piece of glass. However, Ponyboy wasn't reacting too much to the glass. Steve could tell that Ponyboy was only flinching because he was scared.

To test a hypothesis, Steve dug in the tweezers a bit, feeling more concerned when Ponyboy didn't as much blink. Alarms ran in Steves mind, telling him that there was something else wrong with Ponyboy. But, Steve wasn't ready to try and pry information out yet. When Steve next looked up, he saw Ponyboy's watery eyes meet his. "What the hell happened?" Steve asked, annoyed and ready to start interrogating the kid. Ponyboy wiped at his tears, "Nothing."

After a small rant from Steve, Ponyboy's eyes started to unfocus from his. Steve panicked, hearing small "Im sorry,"'s from Ponyboy. "Kid?" Steve asked as Ponyboy just kept repeating "Im sorry." Steve watched as the tears fell from Ponyboy's eyes, his green-gray eyes starting to grow stormy. And, nothing could deter Ponyboy from repeating those two words.

Steve kept calling out for Ponyboy, watching as Ponyboy's breathing started to grow heavy. In a last attempt, Steve grabbed Ponyboy's shoulders and shook him. "It's okay kid, calm down," Steve said in his most soothing voice. He watched as Ponyboy's eyes finally focused on him, not on what was going on in his mind. "D-Dont tell Soda," Ponyboy said.

Steve hated when Ponyboy spoke at that moment. He hated how Ponyboy would rather go through pain silently just to not worry Darry or Soda. What Steve hated the most though was that Ponyboy wanted to go to school. Everyone in the gang knew about the State, but Steve knew that Sodapop hated that Ponyboy knew about it.

"Youre a really fucking stupid kid," Steve huffed out. Ponyboy averted his eyes and looked at the front door, obviously not wanting to hear more of what Steve had to say about him. Steve got up, and put his hand out. "Get up, I think your heads bleedin'. Follow me to the bathroom," Steve said, extending his hand out. Ponyboy grabbed it, slowly easing himself up. Steve was ready to get answers from Ponyboy, even if he had to lock himself in the bathroom with him.

Still, Steve wasn't going to tell Sodapop everything about Ponyboy, Of course, he was going to say that Ponyboy wasn't the best- physically or mentally- but he wasn't going to let that stop Ponyboy from going to school. But, if Steve was able to get more information out of Ponyboy, then he would tell the gang about it.

Ponyboy sat on the toilet, turning his head for Steve to look at where the blood was coming from. Steve checked around, finding some dried-up blood and cleaning it up. Ponyboy winced, signaling to Steve that there was an injury there. He thought about Ponyboys reaction to the glass- or- the lack of a reaction from Ponyboy. It must hurt real bad if he's flinching this time, Steve thought as he continued to check the wound.

"What got you in the back of the head?" Steve asked as he carefully started to clean up the injury. Ponyboy shrugged, obviously hiding what had happened. Steve held his tongue, unsure if he was going to say something to the kid that would make him act up again. "Im sure damn well you know kid," Steve huffed out.

"Im tellin' ya, I have no clue!" Ponyboy retorted. "Hmm, I'm sure it had something to do with the Shepard kid." Steve knew he had hit the jackpot the second Ponyboy froze and stayed quiet. Steve pried more, but, Ponyboy stayed silent. "If ya don't tell me Im tellin' Soda," Steve argued. Ponyboy groaned, "Theres nothing to tell. Curly just told me that he wanted to help me and that some socs were after me. That's all," Ponyboy lied. Steve froze, his mind going to the fact that Curly had been jumped not too long ago.

Steve hummed a bit, an inkling of doubt settling in his mind. He knew that Ponyboy wasn't telling him everything, and that was starting to get on his nerves. Especially because now he knew that Curly knew the socs that had jumped Ponyboy. "Anythin' else 'bout the Shepard kid?" Steve asked as he pressed down harder on the cloth. Ponyboy made no move and instead shook his head, showing that he was over the conversation.

Knowing that he wasn't going to get more information from Pony, Steve guided Ponyboy back to bed. He watched as Ponyboy climbed in, not bothering to change. Ponyboy peaked his head out of the covers when he saw that Steve wasn't leaving, "What?" Steve just looked at him, "Ya ain't gonna take your jeans off? Or your shirt?" Steve watched as Ponyboy's face went white at the idea.

"How's your bandages doin'?" Steve asked, feigning concern in his voice and carefully going near the bed. Ponyboy backed up, covering himself more with the blanket. "They're good" Ponyboy lied. "Im just real tired, go away Steve."

Now knowing there was even more wrong with the kid, Steve walked out of his room. Steve settled on the recliner, where he had been in the morning. He groaned as he reached over to the phone, knowing that if he left, the kid would probably try to do something stupid. He continued to look at the phone, slowly picking it up and dialing a familiar number. When he heard a voice answer, he spoke.

"Hey Soda, your brother just told me somethin' ya might wanna hear."

Ooooh another cliffhanger! I need to stop doing that lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!