SADLY, I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING S. E. HINTON!

Author's Note: Hey! Hope everyone's having a good week! I really appriciate the reviews, I thank all of you! Some people were concerned that the story wouldn't be sad enough. No worries! This story will be plenty sad, just not the whole thing. Like, it's going to be a bittersweet story, it's just going to focus a little more on friendship and stuff. It's going to be very sad and realistic, though! But happy, too! Kay, hope you like it!

At The End Of The Road, Chapter 3: The Plan

PONY'S POV

Leukemia. Leukemia. God help me, leukemia. This is not happening. S***. I'm going to turn into a f****** pity party! I hate sympathy. I'm just gonna be some scrawny, sickly kid! I could die! Oh, my God...

I finally calmed down a little and looked around the office. Dr. Mitchells looked almost as upset as I felt. It must be tough to give kids news like that. Soda had his head in his hands, his breathing shallow and shaky. But Darry let out a big breath.

"Okay," he said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together, as if he was preparing for a big football game. "Okay." He seemed the calmest out of everyone. I knew I looked calm, but a huge tornado was whirling inside my brain, millions of questions spinning out of control. What are the treatments? What are the risks? How long will I have to stay at the hospital? How will the gang handle this? How will I handle this? What about school? What about money? Will I die? Oh, my God.

I shook my head a little to clear it. I felt calmer. I can handle this, I can beat this. Soda was geting himself together, too. He looked stunned. Dr. Mitchells cleared his throat.

"Are you all right, Ponyboy?"

"Yeah, I- I'm fine. Just a lot to deal with." He clapped my shoulder.

"I know it's a lot to process, but it'll get better over time. I promise."

"Everyone alright?" he asked. We all nodded. "Okay, here's the plan."

"There are several treatments and procedures. Chemotherapy, a hematopoietic stem cell transplant, antiobiotics, bone marrow transplant, red blood cell transfusions, transfusions of platelets. Now, acute myeloid leukemia is very rare in young people, you usually see it occur in people around 60. It also worsens very quickly, and becomes worse without instant and aggressive treatment. At the stage Ponyboy is in now, I would highly recommend chemotherapy, it would probably be most effective."

Soda had finally found his voice. "What exactly is chemotherapy?"

Dr. Mitchells smiled a little. " Excellent question, Sodapop. Chemotherapy is kind of like a poison that kills of cancer cells, however, it kills of regular cells, too, and that's why it makes you so sick. Chemo for Acute Myeloid leukemia had two different stages: Induction and Consulidation. The goal of Induction is to rid the blood of all leukemia cells, and reduce the number of immature cells in the bone marrow. This involves about a week of chemo, and then several weeks' stay in the hospital. This process will be repeated several times, but with breaks in between to allow some time at home. Now the second stage, Consulidation, is more aggressive, but crucial. You see, Induction usually doesn't kill all of the leukemia cells, which is why we have Consulidation. If Consulidation is not put into effect, than the leukemia will almost certainly return in a few months. If progress is not shown between these two stages, then in some cases a transplant is necessary. But this is all up to you three, you can make the decisions for what you want. Would you like some time alone to discuss?"

We all three nodded. "Holler when you're done," he said, and stepped out into the hall. I let out a sigh "So..."

Darry sighed, too. "Pony," he asked. "Are you all right?"

I nodded shakily. "Yes. I mean, kind of. I mean, not now, but I will be. I can beat this." Soda started sniffling. I didn't realize just how big this was, how this was going to affect us.

"Pony!" he cried, his voice cracking, "We can't lose you!" My eyes got moist. I was scared and sad and guilty.

I whimpered. "I'm scared," I whispered. "I don't want to die." I started trembling. I was starting to panic again, remembering stories I had read about people with cancer, and all it can do to you. My eyes were threatening to spill over. Soda's already had. He was bawling. I slid into his arms, trembling harder than ever. He started stroking my hair, and that set me off.

"Guys," said Darry, coming around from the other side of the desk. "Guys, don't cry, everything's gonna be all right, we're gonna be fine..." he hugged us both, and we sat there silently, getting out our worries.

A cough from outside brought us back to reality. "Well, we gotta decide what treatment we're going to do." Darry said.

"No." Soda said. "I think that should be Pony's decision, he's the one who will have to go through it."

"Agreed." said Darry. They both looked at me. Well, it wasn't a hard decision to make. I wanted to use whatever was most effective. According to Dr. Mitchell, chemo would be effective. So that was what I wanted.

"I want to do chemo." I told a surprised Darry and Soda.

"Are you sure? It's gonna make you really sick and tired." Darry warned. Soda nodded in agreement.

"I'm sure." I said quietly. "It'll give me a better chance."

DARRY'S POV

I'm still shocked. I can't believe this, it's so unreal. This kind of stuff only happens to other people. That's what I said when my parents died. But we've turned into one of those people. The people who have newspaper articles talking about courage and how hard it is to fight. God. I'm so scared, we can't lose Ponyboy, too. I wish I could go back and take away all the bad things I've said to him. I regret our fights so much now.

"Darry." A voice broke into my thoughts. "Are we going to call Dr. Mitchell back in now?"

"Course," I said, and called him back in.

"So, have you made your decision?"

"I want to do chemo." Pony spoke up.

"Excellent. This is how it's going to work. We'll start chemo on Friday, that way Darry and Soda can stay for the next couple days without missing work. You're going to have a private room for chemo. Let me warn you, chemo is not pleasant. It'll make you really sick to your stomach and tired and pretty weak. You'll lose your hair," Pony made a weird noise between a squeak and a groan. He was proud of his hair. "You will continue chemo for a couple more days, recover in a private room for a couple more days, and have another week of recovery in a room with a roommate, who will also have AML. You will then probably go home for a couple days, no longer than a week, just to be at home for a little. Then you'll come back and repeat the chemo cycle. Well do this several times. At that point, if necessary, we will preform a transplant, of either red blood cells or bone marrow. The we'll start Consulidation, which will be the same as chemo, but more aggressive. After several rounds of that, we'll be done. Then you'll probably never have to come back again, except to of course visit your favorite Dr.s, preferably one named Dr. Mitchell." He winked at Pony, who grinned. "Now, I know you have questions, so ask away."

"Will I be able to go to school? Or run track?" Leave it to Ponyboy to ask something like that at a time like this.

"Unfourtunatly, no. Your immune system will be weakened and the germs at school would make you sick again. As for track, I think you know the answer."

Pony nodded. Poor kid. He loved track. We spent a couple more hours in there, discussing everything. I was completely loaded down with papers and pamphlets, all with grim headings and horrible diagrams.

"Well, any more questions?" Dr. Mitchell asked. We all shook our heads. We had talked ourselves hoarse. "All right, you can go. Chemo will start Friday morning. No school, Pony, and get lots of rest."

Pony just nodded. In the haste and shock of everything, I had forgotten that he still was sick and running a fever. Poor kid must be exhausted.

"Soda, Pony, can you guys wait in the hall for a minute? I need to talk to Dr. Mitchell, alone." They left, and I was finally able to ask the question that had been worrying me something fierce.

"Dr. Mitchell, what am I going to do about money? I can't afford this. As you know, our parents died two months ago. I work two jobs, and Soda dropped out to work, but this is huge. There is no way we can afford this."

Dr. Mitchell looked sympathetic. "Darry, I don't want you worrying abut that right now. You have a family that needs you. Just pay what you can, there are many organizations that I'm sure would be more than happy to help. Just take care of him, this is going to be tough."

"Alright. And Dr. Mitchell?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." I meant it. He smiled, genuinely.

"You're welcome, son. Now get going."

I walked out of the office, now realizing how much time had passed. It was getting dark out. Soda and Pony were sitting on the floor. Well, Soda was sitting on the floor. Pony was stretched out, half asleep, head in Soda's lap. Soda was fiddling absently with Pony's reddish-brown hair. He looked really shaken.

"Hey," I whispered, so I wouldn't wake Pony. "You okay?" Soda nodded. "I guess. It's just a lot to handle, you know? First Mom and Dad, now this..." he sighed deeply, his voice trailing off.

"I know it, Little Buddy." I said. "But life just ain't fair. Plus, we got to be strong for Pony."

Soda gave a half-smile. "Funny," he said. "Seems it should be the other way around. And not just health-wise, either."

"C'mon," I said. "We need to get home. Tell the gang." Oh, Lord, I was dreading it. I shook Pony's arm gently. "Hey, Pone, let's get home now."

He moaned weakly, his eyes focusing on me. "I don't feel good, Dar." he said, his voice exhausted.

"I know kiddo." I said softly. "Come on, let's get home and you can lie down." he stumbled to his feet. Soda put his arm around him and guided him down the hall. Most of doors were closed, but one was open, and I could hear soft voices coming out of it. I didn't mean to look in, exactly, but I got a glimpse and saw Mrs. Dunthers sitting next to a bed, talking softly. She happened to glance up as we walked past.

"Darry," she called out softly, for the sake of the kid in the bed. "Everything all right?" I shook my head mutely. I wasn't feeling very talkative right then. "AML," I said gesturing to Pony. She looked shocked. It really must be rare in kids.

"Oh, my God." she said. "I'm sorry."

Pony attempted a grin, but coughed. "It's all right." Mrs. Dunthers nodded at the boy in the bed next to her.

"This here is Daniel, my son." The kid sat up. He looked sick, all right, but had a smile so big that I thought his face would crack. It was like looking at a younger Sodapop. "Hey!" Daniel exclaimed.

Pony smiled weakly. "Hey." Pony was fading fast. I think Mrs. Dunthers noticed, too, because she said, "Oh, don't let us keep you, you three must be pretty tired." Then she looked surprised. "I thought there was just two of you."

Oh, she hadn't met Soda yet. "Oh, this is our brother, Sodapop."

"Most people call me Soda, though." he interjected. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. You too, Daniel."

Everyone exchanged goodbyes and we left. "They seem nice." said Soda.

"Yeah, I met Mrs. Dunthers in thre waiting room. She actually seemed to get it, you dig?"

"Yeah, they seem pretty tuff." Pony practically whispered. We got out to the parking lot. Soda had borrowed Steve's car to get here, but he wanted to ride with Pony in the back, so we just figured Steve could get it tomorrow. Pony stretched out in the backseat, Soda next to him. I slid into the drivers seat, and we started home.

PONY'S POV

We were about halfway home when I started feeling nauseous. I knew that I should probably tell Darry or Soda, but I didn't want to worry them even more. So I just breathed deeply, slowly, in and out, in and out, willing myself not to puke in the car. No such luck. My stomach lurched.

"Soda," I said urgently, lifting my head off his shoulder. "I'm really nauseous."

"S***. Darry, pull over." Darry swerved over jerkily, which didn't help matters. "What's wrong?"

"Pony's really nauseous." Darry quickly forked over a bag and passed it back to Soda, who opened it under me. Just in time. I gagged and Soda held my head over the bag as I threw up. Ugh. I just kept heaving, but there was nothing left in my stomach. I stopped heaving, my breathing returned to normal, and I leaned back in the seat, covered in sweat.

"You all right now, Pone?" Darry asked gently from up front.

"Yeah, I'm okay now," I said. I wasn't really, but I didn't really want to dwell on it. "Was that normal?"

"Yeah," said Soda. I remember he said that until chemo, it's just gonna be like you have the flu." I nodded.

Darry started driving again. "You feel like your gonna get sick again, just holler and I'll pull over." I just nodded and leaned back against Soda. He rubbed my back comfortingly, and I slept the rest of the way home.

Soda shook me awake when we got home. I walked in the house in a daze. I was so out of it, I didn't even notice that the whole gang was in the living room. I just trudged down the hall to my room, pulled off my t-shirt and jeans, and crawled into bed. I distantly heard Soda and Darry telling the gang, their shocked voices, someone talking on the phone. I remember Soda coming in with a glass of water and moving the trashcannot closer to my bed. Before I fell into a deep sleep, I remember thinking: Ponyboy, you got a long road ahead of you. But you gotta fight till the end.

Author's Note: I struggled immensely with that chapter. I'm not sure why, but it was extremely difficult to write. Was it obvious? Let me know how it was! REVIEW! Also, happy birthday to Two-Bit, it was on the 20th! Happy birthday, you crazy greaser ;) Also, I changed some information, like I'm not sure chemo would be most effective, and with AML, they don't repeat chemo, but I wanted to add that to my story. The rest is real, though! I'm excited to introduce new charecters in the next chapter! Thanks, Stay Gold! -Emily ;) :)

I GOT INFO FROM THIS WEBSITE: Acute Myeloid Leukemia: Syptoms, Diagnosis, treatment... (there was more but it got cut off and I couldn't copy/paste ;)