SADLY, I DO NOT OWN THE OUTSIDERS! ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE AMAZING S. E. HINTON!
Author's Note: Well, hey there, guys! I hope everyone's having an awesome and safe summer! I am, the rest of my summer is going to be awesome! On Saturday, a bunch of my friends and I are getting together for a sleepover. On Monday, I'm leaving for Texas, and the day after I get back, I have dance camp for a month. Then, we might go on a family vacation, then I start eighth grade. Yayyy! WARNING: I might be going places without wi-fi, and I use my iPod for everything, so there might be gaps between my updates :(
Several people commented that this kind of treatment wasn't available in the 60s. Thanks for letting me know, but I'm just going to pretend that it is, cause I'm too lazy to find alternative treatments! Haha.
KMP88: I will add new charecters, but probably won't include Cherry or Bob or Randy, cause Pony doesn't know them; the book hasn't happened. I might throw in the Shepards gang a little, I might not, it depends ;)
Kay, I'll start now. Enjoy!
At The End Of The Road, Chapter 4: Needles and Nathan
PONY'S POV
When I woke up next, blinding, golden sunlight was streaming through the curtians. It was a beautiful, golden day, but I felt anything but that. For starters, I still felt pretty sick. My head was pounding and aching, I was nauseous, and I felt weak and dizzy. But that wasn't the worst of it. The way I felt was the worst: worthless and helpless. I was consumed with guilt. I knew deep down that I couldn't help getting cancer, but my conscious was telling me otherwise. I knew that this wasn't going to be cheap; the bills would pile up and I would be a burden to everyone. I was miserable.
But after a few minutes of laying there and feeling sorry for myself, I realized that this was my last free day for a long time, and I certainly wasn't going to waste it lying around in bed, so I slowly eased myself out of bed and stumbled down the hallway to the kitchen. I had a sinking feeling of gloom in my stomach, I walked slower and slower but I already knew: the gang was here. Had they already been told? I couldn't remember, everything was pretty fuzzy after the appointment. I hoped Darry and Soda had told the gang, but then again, I didn't want to be showered with sympathy and worry when I walked in. Oh well, I was going to find out soon enough anyway.
I could tell that everyone knew as soon as I walked into the kitchen. There was a kind of solemnness, heaviness to the air that had only been there once, when Mom and Dad died. Everyone was sprawled over the place as usual: Darry cooking French toast at the stove, Soda messing around with Steve while eating chocolate cake, Johnny stretched out on the couch, Two-Bit on the floor, both watching Mickey, and Dally talking in low tones to Darry. Seems normal, right? Wrong. Everyone seemed quieter, worried,scared even. And it was all my fault.
I slipped into the kitchen, hoping not to be noticed, but of course, with these guys, they noticed everything. Darry hurried on over, led me over to the armchair, and sat me down.
"Dr. Mitchell says you need to get a lot of rest today, so take it easy today, alright?" I nodded. Darry continued, "So how you feeling, Pone?"
"Sick." I managed to croak out. God, I must look so pathetic and weak. Soda came over and felt my forehead.
"You still have a fever. Listen, Pony, we told the gang last night." I had known all along. I tried to grin at them. "I know, I think I heard you guys talking last night." I didn't know what to say. There was a terrible awkward silence, a rarity in out gang. Thankfully, Two-But spoke up:
"Yeah, we were talking pretty loud. I'm real sorry this had to happen, Pony, after what you guys had to go through..." He trailed off. Johnny interjected quietly from the couch,
"Don't worry Pony, well be there for you. Plus, on the bright side, you don't have to take exams." That broke the tension. Everyone started laughing, one because Johnny rarely speaks, but he has pretty good sense of humor when he does, and two, it was nice to have an excuse to laugh at something.
After that, we went on with our usual routine, as normally as we could. Two-Bit, Johnny, and Steve went to school. Darry and Dally headed off to work. Soda had the day off, his boss, Mitch, gave him the day off when he heard the circumstances. It was great. We hung out and talked. I slept. It was just like any other normal day.
But you can only pretend for so long. We had to make the calls. School, my track coach, Darry and Soda's work, the insurance company, some friends, Mrs. Matthews, Dr. Wardley. And all these phone calls just kept screaming in my face that nothing was ever going to be the same again. I wish I could say that I did something productive, something memorable that day, but I didn't. I dozed all throughout the late morning and early afternoon. After everyone got home from school, I fell asleep again, on the couch. Darry woke me up around 7, saying he had made dinner, but I didn't think my stomach could manage. He made me sit down with everyone anyway, and made me eat a little bit, but 10 minutes later I was puking my guts out in the bathroom. And I was back to miserable again, everything was a reminder of how sick I was. We were leaving early that morning, I wouldn't be seeing the gang before we left. It was kind of rough, i didn't know if I was going to see them again. I turned to them.
"Guys," I said, my voice cracking, "I'm sorry you gotta deal with this, I know it ain't easy on ya, you guys have always been there for me. And I appriciate it. Thanks." I let out a shaky breath. Johnnycakes was practically in tears by now. We hugged each other and told each other to "Stay Gold." I'm not sure when that started, but we've always done it. And every time, without fail, the gang looks at us like we're crazy. Two-Bit was all serious for once, messing up my hair and tackling me carefully to the floor. Dally looked pained as he, too, messed up my hair (what is it with them doing that?) and saying, "Take care, kid." Steve punched my arm, but lighter then usual, which was a promising sign. Then they were gone.
I collapsed into bed the moment they left. Sleep took over me, and I slept all night, never waking once.
************************************************************** Friday dawned cold, grey, and early. I woke up feeling like it was the morning of something important, like getting up early for a track competition or vacation. You know the feeling? I desperately wished it was true. We were quiet, not talking much. I packed a bag, stuffed full with books and other necessities. I didn't eat breakfast; Dr. Mitchell had advised coming on an empty stomach. I took a long last look around the house, trying to remember every last detail. The rip in the striped wall paper in the kitchen, the scuffed surface of the wooden kitchen table, the faded blue shag carpet, the old yellow armchair that no one sat in but me, the smooth glass covered, triangular clock on the mantle, the dent in the living room wall, a result of Johnny and I's football game when we were 8 and 10. There were so many memories, so many things I never bothered to pay attention. God, I wished I paid more attention, did more things... Great, now I was getting sentimental. I blinked back tears as I got into the car. Our rusty metal gate clanged shut behind us as I left behind my house, and my childhood.
We arrived at the oncology ward of Tulsa General at exactly 8 am. Darry signed me in. Thank God there was no paperwork; he had stopped by the hospital yesterday after work to take care of that. My stomach was in knots as Dr. Mitchell came strolling on down the hallway, smiling.
"Ponyboy!" he exclaimed, an unbelievable amount of energy in his voice. "Pleasure as always. Glad you're on time. You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
He chuckled. "Like that kind of attitude! Now I'm just going to quickly introduce you to your nurse and roommate. You'll be sharing a room with him after you've been through chemo. You can leave most of your stuff there, too."
I nodded. The four of us walked on down the white hallways. Dr. Mitchell paused at a white door with the numbers 476 stenciled neatly in black on it. He opened the door gently. It was an average-sized room. There were two hospital beds, a curtain between them for privacy. I supposed that I got the bed nearest to the door because it was empty. There was a women adjusting various tubes at the other bed. She was dressed all in white, she was of avarage height with a sturdy, solid build. Her thick, wavy, chestnut brown hair was slightly streaked with grey. It hung to the small of her back. Dr. Mitchell cleared his throat.
"Ponyboy, this is Maggie, she'll be your nurse probably most of the time you're here. "Maggie, this is Ponyboy Curtis."
She turned and smiled at me. Her eyes were dark blue. She looked a couple years older then Mom was when she died. "Hello, Ponyboy. It's nice to meet you."
"You, too."
"And this is Nathan, your roommate." Dr. Mitchell said. I finally got a look at the boy in the bed. He was extremely pale, and bruises decorated his arms. He was skinny and bald, and hooked up to various machines. His eyes were what got me. They were a strange mixture of Johnny and Dally's eyes; tough and determined, but with hidden fear underneath. He merely nodded his head at me. I nodded back.
"He's usually pretty talkative," said Maggie, "But he just recently had chemo and it's pretty draining." I nodded again.
"Alright, let's get rolling!" said Dr. Mitchell. We left and walked down a maze of hallways. We stopped at a section of cubicles, seperated by curtains. He opened one of the curtains, and we stepped inside. It was a smaller version of the other room, with just one bed. There were machines with dangling tubes in the corner, waiting for me.
"You can go sit down on the bed." said Dr. Mitchell. I sat, and Darry and Soda pulled up a couple of plastic chairs by my bed.
"Okay, we're going to put in a couple of I.V.s, and we have to hook you up to a heart moniter, too." He caught my expression. "I know, you don't really need it, but it's hospital policy. Then we'll put in another I.V., which will have the chemo medicine you need. You'll always have a nurse or doctor in here, just in case. Now, again, this is going to make you really sick. There's the trash can." He gestured to beside the bed. "You'll be in here for about three days, but chemo will only last for today. The side affects will stretch over the next few days, though. That's about it. Any questions?"
We all shook our heads. "Excellent. Let's get started, then."
I leaned back against the pillows and shut my eyes as the cold metal pierced my skin. The relentless, steady beeping of the heart moniter started. I gripped Darry and Soda's hands as Dr. Mitchell slid the last needle into my arm, and the clear liquid started to drip from the bag down the tube and into my system. Chemo had begun.
Author's Note: Ughhh I'm tired. It's 3:08 in the morning. I tried to fall asleep for two hours, and even though I was really tired, I couldn't sleep. So I just wrote this whole chapter. Haha. So, what did you guys thing? Let me know in a review, please! Thanks! I'm going to sleep now. See ya! Stay Gold! -Emily ;) :)