(Ponyboy's POV)
Things were fuzzy when I woke up. I remembered a hospital and something about my brothers, but it wasn't until I opened my eyes and saw the guys in the room that I started to remember the more specific details. There was a rumble. My brothers are hurt. Are they…?
"Are they dead?" I asked without really meaning to say the words out loud. My words slurred together and my eyelids felt heavy, but my mind was still working just enough to speak.
All the guys looked at me immediately with varying levels of worry on their faces. Two-Bit had been slumped in the chair on my right side, but as soon as I spoke, he straightened up and leaned forward towards me. "Hey Ponykid. Have a good nap?" I could tell he was trying to keep the mood light, but his voice didn't have the typical humorous tone.
"Are they dead?" I repeated, my voice breaking at the end. I figured since I already said the words once, I could say them again easily, but I was wrong. At the mention of my brothers possibly being gone for good, I felt myself start breathing heavy. I need to know if they're gone.
"Calm down, kid. Freaking out is what made the doctor knock you out in the first place," Steve said, sounding bored. He was sitting next to Two-Bit, his arms folded in front of his chest, and his feet resting on my hospital bed. He looked annoyed with me, but something just seemed off about him, and that stressed me out as much as the lack of answer to my question.
"They're both alive. They're still in surgery," Johnny said on my left. Thank God. I turned my head to look at him, and it felt like there was some kind of disconnect between my brain and muscles, because it seemed like the small movement of my head turning was delayed. When I looked at Johnny, I immediately spotted Dally standing next to him, looking mad like always. I wanted to know what made him so angry, but I thought it was best to leave him be. Then I noticed my best friend still looked concerned, and he spoke before my brain could form a sentence to ask him about it. "You feelin' alright, Pony?"
Am I? I tried to think about how I felt, but I couldn't really tell. I'm worried about my brothers, but why do I feel so numb and tired? "Don't know."
"They gave you something to fall asleep," Two-Bit said, which forced me to slowly turn my head back to the other direction. He was calm and he even seemed a little somber: two words I never thought that would describe Two-Bit Mathews. "Doc said you might want to keep gettin' small amounts of that stuff to keep you relaxed. You okay with that?"
I felt my eyebrows furrow as I tried to understand what Two-Bit had said. Do I really want more meds? It's probably better to be relaxed than the alternative. "I guess." Suddenly, my brain remembered that I had more questions about my brothers. "So they're alive? What's goin' on?" The more words I tried to speak, the more I slurred, so I tried to take a mental note of keeping my sentences short, but with the state I was in, I wasn't confident in my ability to remember the mental note anyway.
"They're pretty roughed up," Two-Bit said sadly.
"C'mon Two-Bit, tell him the truth without sugarcoatin' it," Dally suddenly said angrily. I turned my head to look at him, and it looked like he was upset with Two-Bit, but I wasn't sure if that was true or not. "He's their brother, he deserves to know!"
"He just woke up, and I get to decide things, alright?" Two-Bit shot back viciously. Not only was I surprised by Two-Bit's tone, but what he said made no sense to me. Am I really so out of it that I can't understand words? When I looked at the jokester, he was still looking at Dally determined and stern.
"What's goin' on?" I asked everyone in the room. "Why does Two-Bit get to decide?"
Two-Bit looked at me, and I could tell he was performing a rare act: thinking before speaking. "I'm kinda in charge of you, Pony. Just until Darry wakes up and proves to us how tough he is. Got the paperwork and everything to prove it."
I felt my eyebrows pinch together in confusion. He's in charge of me? What does that mean? "Huh?"
"You really think your big brother was gonna leave anything up to chance with the state?" Steve questioned. It sounded like he thought I was stupid for never thinking about it, and to be honest, I never did. After our parents died, Soda and I were a mess and Darry took charge and kept us together. Darry always seemed invincible, so I never thought it was a possibility to lose him too, and therefore, needing a plan in case something happened to him. "Two-Bit's your guardian for the time being."
I let my head sink into the pillow as I looked up at the ceiling. My brothers are still in surgery, and I don't know if they'll make it. Two-Bit Mathews is my legal guardian, and if Darry doesn't make it, I guess Two-Bit's stuck with me. Glory, what is happening?
"Aw come on, Ponyboy. It ain't that bad," Two-Bit said, still trying to sound like himself, but falling short. I suddenly wondered if I kept talking without meaning to, and my thoughts were spoken out loud. "It's just for now. But as long as I'm in charge, I'll let you have all the chocolate cake you want."
I tried to grin at him to let him know I appreciated his attempt of keeping me calm, but I was pretty sure the frown stayed on my face. I'd give up chocolate cake forever if it meant both of my brothers would live.
"So nobody knows how they're doin'?" I asked after a beat. The same time Two-Bit let out a sigh, Steve looked away from me, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Johnny and Dally both shift uncomfortably.
"The doc said they aren't looking good, but he'll come in here when he has more to tell us," Two-Bit explained. "We're hoping since it's been a while, we're gonna get good news."
I still felt oddly numb and sleepy, but my eyes got watery just thinking about my brothers. They're both hurt real bad. The doctor said they don't look good. Then I remembered someone, probably a doctor, had told us before that Darry's chances weren't good. Darry might not make it. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and my eyes met Two-Bit's. "We're all here for ya, Ponyboy," he said softly, but confidently.
"I know, thanks," I said genuinely. I knew Two-Bit was truthful and the guys would do anything for me, but even though the guys were practically family, they weren't my brothers. If either Soda or Darry didn't make it, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to move on. And if both of them-
"Hello gentlemen, may I come in?" a voice asked from the doorway. I glanced at a doctor with dark grey hair, and I realized that he looked vaguely familiar. By the time I guessed that he was the doctor who told me I had a concussion and my brothers were in rough shape, the man was already looking right at me. "Hello Ponyboy. It looks like your sedative has worn off. How are you feeling?"
"Fine," I lied immediately. I was pretty sure every single person in the room knew I was lying, but nobody said anything. There were more important things to worry about than my wellbeing. "Anything new with Soda or Darry?"
The doctor nodded, and it felt like the world completely stopped as I held my breath and waited for him to respond. Nobody in the room moved, breathed, or probably even blinked.
"Sodapop is out of surgery, and he's recovering now," the doctor said, and all of us collectively let out big sighs of relief. Soda's alive. He made it! "His intestines were successfully repaired, and part of his liver had to be removed, but not to worry; the liver is a hearty organ that can regenerate itself, so losing part of it shouldn't be a problem." It felt like my brain was swirling. That's a lot of information all at once. I thought he was done talking, but I was wrong. "In addition, he suffered significant blood loss from the knife wound, and also two fractured ribs. We're still replenishing his blood supply, but the rib fractures should heal on their own."
I wasn't surprised by the broken ribs– a lot of guys break ribs in a rumble– and while they're usually a pretty big deal since they hurt so bad, with everything else Soda was suffering from, the ribs were the least of his concerns. He's alive and recovering; that's all that matters right now.
"When can we see him?" Steve asked immediately.
"Not for a little while," the doctor said, still speaking in a calm manner. "He's being closely monitored but our post-operation staff, but when he moves to a different room, he can have visitors." Steve didn't seem to like that answer, but he didn't say anything.
"What about Darry?" Two-Bit asked next.
I felt my heart start racing at the mention of Darry. Please don't be dead. Please.
"He's still fighting on that operating table. He's coded a total of four times so far, but he seems to be going in the right direction. A lesser man wouldn't still be here, but that guy's tough as they come," the doctor said, sounding both surprised and impressed. I knew we'd normally all agree with the doctor and maybe mention how we call him Superman or Muscles, but we remained quiet so he could keep talking. "They're trying to repair his lung right now, but it's a delicate process. He also lost a substantial amount of blood and sustained severe damage to his leg, so he's getting blood transfusions during the procedure as well. The odds aren't exactly in his favor, but he's still here, and that's more than we thought was possible when he was first put on the table."
The atmosphere in the room was tense as the doctor's words settled in. I didn't like that medical professionals thought Darry was going to be dead by now, but at least the doctor admitted that Darry was tough and fighting for his life. If Darry has any control over what happens, he's not going anywhere. He wouldn't leave me and Soda, right?
I could hear the guys talking around me, probably getting more details or just simply thanking the doctor for the update, but all I could hear was ringing in my ears, with my heartbeat providing a deeper background noise. Soda's probably going to be fine, but Darry's coded four times. He got shot twice defending me, and it might be the last thing he does. Lordy, please let him make it. Soda and I need him.
"Pony? Hey, you okay man?" Johnny's voice, along with his hand on my knee, brought me out of my own thoughts and back to the present. The doctor was gone, and all four of the guys were looking at me once again.
"Yeah, just thinkin' I guess," I muttered, hoping he'd let it go.
"Well you're gonna worry yourself sick if you keep that up," Two-Bit quipped. "Your brothers are doin' good."
He seemed to be in a better mood since the update on my brothers, and while it seemed like good news, I didn't want to get my hopes up in case life was going throw another curveball at me. Don't count your chickens before they hatch.
"When can I see Soda?" I asked. I got an uneasy feeling when the guys all shared a strange look, except Dally, who still just looked mad.
"He ain't in a room yet," Dally said, not real kindly, but not as mean as he could've been. "And your ass is still in a hospital bed, and we ain't gonna let you get up."
I felt a flicker of anger within me, along with a pang of distress, but something seemed to be smothering my emotions to the point that I couldn't express them fully. Still, I gave Dally a look to let him know I was irritated. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch," I said, motioning towards my left arm with my head, but the movement made me dizzy and I had to close my eyes for a second to regain my composure.
"It ain't a scratch, and you know it," Dally shot back.
I stared at him as I tried to come up with a response. Suddenly, I thought of something. "Just ask Steve. He'll agree with me."
All eyes moved to Steve, who just looked at me, eyebrows raised in surprise. The room was quiet for several seconds, and I wondered why Steve wasn't immediately agreeing with me. Wasn't it his voice before that said I didn't even get shot?
Finally, Steve managed to respond. "You're hurt kid, and your brothers would kill us if they found out we let you out of that bed before you were okay."
The one time I need Steve Randle to say that I don't need people worrying about me, and he doesn't cooperate.
"Steve's right, Pony," Two-Bit said, drawing my attention to my new, and hopefully temporary, guardian. "It's not just your arm we need to worry about, kid. You got a concussion too, remember?" No, I really didn't remember; I just figured my brain wasn't working great because of the medication I was given. Two-Bit must've realized that he was right, because he gave me a small grin. "See? Let's wait until the doctor gives you the all clear before you get outta that bed."
I really didn't want to be apart from Soda any longer than I had to, especially with Darry still being in bad shape, but I couldn't out-argue the four people looking at me. Plus, I was honestly too tired to put up much of a fight. I let out a sigh. "Fine."
With the understanding that I would be stuck in a hospital bed for a little while longer, I let myself drift in and out of sleep while the guys stayed with me, with them occasionally leaving to use the bathroom or smoke. After some amount of time, I was woken up by Johnny muttering my name near my head. "Wake up, Pony. Dr. Jones is back."
The same doctor as before, who was apparently named Dr. Jones, had returned to my room. I was still in the process of completely waking up, so I missed him walking into the room and the beginning of the conversation, but I paid attention to his words as soon as I could.
"-seems to be wrapping up. Darrel's almost made it over the first hurdle," Dr. Jones said.
"Wha's goin' on?" my voice slurred. Hurdles? What are they talking about?
Dr. Jones gave me a smile. "Darrel's surgery is almost done. Once he's out of the OR and starting to recover, he'll have a whole new set of challenges, but it's looking like he's continuing to defy the odds."
The guys around me all looked relieved, a couple of them even muttering words under their breaths, but all I could do was hold in the sobs that threatened to escape my mouth. Darry's still alive. He's almost out of surgery.
"If it wasn't for the quick actions done by you gentlemen, I don't think either Darrel or Sodapop would have made it to the hospital in time for us to help them," Dr. Jones said, his voice breaking into my thoughts. "Putting pressure on their wounds, the tourniquet applied to Darrel's leg, keeping them both conscious as long as possible, and getting them to the hospital quickly ultimately saved their lives."
The room was quiet once again as the doctor's words sunk in. I knew Darry and Soda's lives were obviously at stake, but it seemed crazy to think that everyone in the room played a part in saving my brothers. My brothers saved me, and these guys saved my brothers. I owe them everything.
"Also," the doctor started, once again interrupting my thoughts. "Sodapop is out of recovery and he can have visitors."