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

PAuthor's Note: Sorry for the slightly long wait! I've been too bored to write, now that I'm done with camp, I have nothing to do until I go to Tennessee, everyone's on vacation or doing something! Just been hanging out and painting my room. Can't wait to get my schedule! I really don't know exactly where I'm going with this chapter, I have a TON of stuff planned for this story, but I can't make it start happening yet, so I'm trying to find a way to fill up some space until we get there. I'm basically just winging it this chapter. Please give me some advice on it, let me know what you think! And thanks sooo much for the wonderful reviews, I really appriciate them!

Also, thanks to A. E. Zurtia for being my 100th reviewer! I can't believe I broke 100! Thanks, guys ;) And thanks to Classy Muse for the great information about Medicaid!

Guest: Thanks for the review! Sorry, I'm always going to star out the cuss words. I just don't like cussing. I know, I'm a tough greaser (sarcasm;) Haha.

Chapter 9: I Should Have Stayed Home

DARRY'S POV

"Please!"

"No."

"Darry, c'mon..."

I bit my lip, staring down my 13-year old brother. His arms were folded across his skinny chest, a stubborn expression on his face. He was unnaturally skinny and pale. Bruises decorated his skin. Was I actually about to give into him?

"Absolutely not. For God's sake Ponyboy, you just got home 10 minutes ago. Give it a rest."

"You're so unfair!"

"So sue me. Go get some rest."

Ponyboy stalked off to his room, slamming his door behind him. I sighed, running my fingers through my hair, and turned to Sodapop.

"Thanks for the help."

"Well, geez Darry, I couldn't take sides this time, you both had a point."

"Whatever. Just go talk to him, would you?"

Soda nodded and walked down the hall. I felt bad already for arguing with Pony, but I had just been running out of patience. It was Friday, we had just gotten home from the hospital, and Pony was already begging to go see a movie with Johnny later, when he got off from school. I had refused to let him, claiming that he needed to rest, but that wasn't really the real reason.

I was scared to let him go, filled with a desperate fear that he wouldn't come back. The same fear that I felt when we left the hospital for the night, afraid that he wouldn't be there in the morning or afternoon, when we dropped by to see him.

I knew that a lot of other people felt like this. Soda and I had anotherSuppoert group meeting, and we had talked about dealing with guilt and taking care of ourselves. Rveryone was saying that they were afraid to leave them, that when they talked it would be the last time. But all the other patients had parents who could spend the night and even the day at the hospital, instead of having to get up at the crack of dawn and work till night. And that wasn't really a comforting fact.

It had been a stressful past couple days. Ponyboy had refrained from complaining, but he had been close to cracking, and I honestly couldn't blame the kid. He had been stuck in a hospital bed for a week, not able to get out of it except to go to the bathroom and shower. He couldn't smoke, and couldn't do much except do schoolwork and talk. But he was too exhausted to do much, though he wouldn't admit it. I didn't blame him for wanting to get out a bit. But that didn't change the fact that he had cancer. Cancer. And oblivious as he was, I wasn't about to let him wander around aimlessly with Socs roaming the streets and all that. Also, Dr. Mitchell had pulled me aside when I was signing the release papers. He had strongly suggested that I keep Pony's amount of activity very lenient, due to the risk of infection. Infections were most common after the first chemo session, and they could be life-threatening, it would drop his white bloid cell count. I was supposed to take his temperature daily, and be on the lookout for any other signs of infection, and take him to the E. R. imediatly if he developed one. To prevent it, he wasn't supposed to be around anyone sick, be in contact with people, and avoid large crowds of people. I didn't know how to do that without keeping him in the house. So I was keeping him inside. Still, I felt weird, as if I was trying too hard to protect him.

Soda came into the living room and flopped on the couch. "He's resting now. Happy?"

"Soda," I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "It's for his own good. Remember what Dr. Mitchell said? He's most likely to develop an infection after his first treatment. I know I can't keep him trapped inside, but I can't just let him go out. It's too much of a risk."

Soda nodded thoughtfully, heading towards the kitchen to make himself a sandwhich. "I know, Dar. But h***, we can't keep him trapped inside this whole time. He hasn't been out of bed in a week, and he's not one to sit still. A couple of hours won't kill him."

I gave in. "You're right. I'm think gonna send either Dal or Two-Bit with him and Johnny, just to be safe. And I don't want him out for more than two hours."

Soda grinned. "I knew you'd crack, Dar. You're easy to convince."

He ducked my swing at him as I headed to Pony's room. I knocked.

"What?"

I came in. "Pony, I know you think I'm being unreasonable, but I just don't want you getting sicker. You dig?"

"Yeah, I dig, but it's still not fair. I'm bored to death. Please, Darry, plea-"

"Before you can beg any longer, I'll just tell you, you can go. But only for a couple hours."

He grinned. "Thanks, Darry!" He headed off towards the kitchen. I saw him slip Sodapop a dollar under the table.

"Told you he'd crack," Soda said, grinning cockily.

"Shut up."

I headed to my room and flopped down on my bed. I was completly sleep-deprived, between work, checking on Pony, taking care of Soda, trying to pay bills, trying to assess the money situation with the hospital if we were accepted into Medicaid, doing paperwork for Pony's school, setting up a system where he could get his work completed, and working out a schedule with work, I didn't have a ton of time for , I would be able to catch up on sleep this weekend-I wasn't working, and Pony didn't have his next chemo session until Sunday ( it was Monday, but we adjusted it with our bosses so that we could take today off, but go in on Monday.) And a ten minute nap couldn't hurt now. I shut my eyes and was instantly out.

I woke up to loud voices. I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes. Weak winter sunlight filtered through the window, glimmering and reflecting off the light dusting of snow on the ground. I pushed the blankets off me and stumbled to the living room. Pony was stretched out on the couch, and Soda was on the floor next to him. They were deeply involved in an enthuseastic (and very loud) game of poker.

"I raise it to two bucks," Soda said, carelessly tossing a couple of dollar bills into the pile. Pony gave his money a painful look before setting down his two dollars. The gang jokes him when we play poker, he almost always folds cause he can't bear to risk his money.

Soda laughed. "Ready to surrender, Pone?"

"No way. For once, I'm not gonna fold."

"Good luck with that."

"Hey, you're awake, Darry!"

"Yeah," I mumbled. I was still half-asleep. "What time is it?"

"Almost noon."

I nodded, and sat down in the armchair to watch the rest of the game.

"All right, let's see you're cards." Pony triumphantly revealed his cards. Two sixes, three tens. "Full house."

Soda slapped down his cards. "You're good, little bro. Just not good enough." He grinned wickedly. "A ten, jack, queen, king, and ace. A royal flush, straight in spades. Pay up."

"D*** it!" said Pony, pushing the pile of money towards Soda. "Go on. Gloat."

"Ponyboy, language."

"Sorry, Darry... Hey, how come you never slam Soda for language?"

"Can't be done," Soda answered, not looking up from counting his money. "I'm too old to change my terrible ways."

"Sure."

I just shook my head. "You guys want lunch?"

"Yeah." Soda said, jumping up, but Pony stayed put.

"Nah, I'm not hungry."

"You sure? You barely got any breakfast, either. You feel like you're gonna get sick?"

"Darry, it ain't a big deal. I'm just not hungry. Can I sleep now?"

"Yeah, sure. Just let me know when you're ready to eat."

He nodded and curled up, closing his eyes. I headed for the kitchen, feeling worried. He hadn't been eating much lately, and he was getting pretty skinny. Shouldn't he be hungry now?

Soda came in behind me and nudged me. "Hey, stop worrying. He's fine."

I sighed. "I know. That's what scares me."

"It scares you that he's fine?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, he'll seem fine one minute, but it's just the medicine tricking us and he'll be really sick the next minute. It can happen so fast, ya know?"

Soda looked confused. "I guess."

He didn't really know, I could tell. I had the feeling thatother people wouldn't, either. It was just that he would be okay one minute, and I would stop worrying, thinking that he's getting better. But he wasn't getting better, and his condition would change so fast that it scares me. I didn't have control over the situation, and that scared me, too. I was always been in control, when Mom and Dad died I pretty much became the unofficial leader of the house. I had the power of who stayed at our house, who didn't, when my brothers went out, when they came home, who they hung out with. I could keep them safe, for the most part. But I'm not keeping them safe, this is beyond my control. And I don't like being powerless.

TWO-BIT'S POV

I tipped my chair back on two legs and put my feet up on the empty desk in front of me. Who needs math? I was bored to death. Time for some action. I started flirting with some blonde chick in front of me, and it seemed to be working. sure, I had been going steady with Kathy for two months now, but that didn't mean that I couldn't have a little fun anyway.

"Mr. Matthew's! Can you tell me the answer to this problem?" Mr. Groyer gestured to the board. I had no idea what he was talking about.

"No. Can you tell me?"

The class started laughing. An old, wrinkled vein started pulsing in Me. Groyer's neck, a sure sign that he was angry.

"Watch yourself, Mr. Matthew's, or you'll earn yourself a detention."

He turned back to the board and started lecturing again. I just grinned. Mr. Groyer had been teaching at Will Rogers nearly 50 years, and had always threatened to give kids detentions, but he never did. Which is why you could get away with almost anything in his class. And believe me, that came in handy.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day. I grabbed my books and waited for Johnny by the door. Even though I'm two years older then him, we're both in the lower-level math class. He came out last, walking slowly, painfully. His old man got pretty stoned a couple nights ago. Took it out on Johnny. Poor kid got away with a couple bruised ribs. Ah well, I say no need to worry about it now. You can't change the past.

"Hey, Johnnycake." I said as we walked down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Nothing much," he said quietly. Johnny was always quiet. "Saw you giving Amanda the eye. I thought you were goin steady with Kathy?"

I grinned. "Shoot Johnny, just cause I'm going with her doesn't mean I can't enlighten others lives."

"That's cheating, man!"

"That ain't cheating. That's life."

I got to my locker and dumped all my books in it. I wasn't really planning on doing homework this weekend. Johnny slung his backpack over his shoulder, and we walked over to Steve's locker.

"Hey, man."

"Hey. What's up?"

"Nothing much. You guys need a lift?"

"Don't you have to pick up Casey* from school?" Johnny asked me.

"Yeah, but I can pick her up,drop her off at her friends house, and head on down to the Curtis's."

"It's cool, I have the day off work, me and Johnnycake can head on down there. We'll see you later?"

Yeah, later."

I grabbed my keys and headed out to the parking lot where my rusty Ford was parked. I jammed my foot on the accelerator, it sputtered but didn't start. "D*** it," I muttered, taking the keys out of the ignition and kneeling down. 10 minutes later, it was running, but that also meant that I was 10 minutes late picking up Casey. Simple solution: speed.

I managed to get down to the worn down, red brick building in 5 minutes: Carver Middle School. It was empty and silent except for Casey sitting on the steps. I honked the horn at her. "Hop in!"

She flung herself down in the passengers seat, sulking. "What took you so long? I'm late for the sleepover."

"Sorry Case. You know, I had stuff to do."

She still looked mad, but kept her mouth shut. She knew the score. Although she doesn't know it, my little sister is the mirror image of my father; Straight dark blonde hair with natural brown highlights, tall for her age, stormy grey eyes. I prefer for her to keep it that way, not knowing about Dad I mean. He left when she was three. We never talk about him, but at almost 13, she's naturally curious about him. I give her the basic facts, but don't go into detail.

"Two-Bit! You were supposed to take a left!"

I jerk the wheel. "Where exactly am I going again?"

She sighs dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder. I knew she was half-kidding. "I'm sleeping over at Anna's house. Her adress is 304 Montosa Drive." I manage to get into the right neighboorhoids. The houses are cleaner, bigger, the grass is greener.

"Middle class?"

"Course. I'm not about to spend the night at some Socs house."

I grin at her and pull into the driveway. "Good. Alright kid, you know you can call if you need anything, try calling the Curtis's, I'll probably be over there. You know their number?"

"667-5309"

"Good. Try not to call home unless you really need something, Mom's working a late shift tonight. If no one answers on either, try the hospital, if worse comes to worse well be there, you know, with Pony and all..."

My sister's cheeks flushed slightly; Ponyboy wasn't even two years older then her, and she had always had a thing for him. She would never admit to it, though.

"Okay. Bye, Two-Bit!" She grabbed the bag she had packed this morning and ducked out the door.

"Have fun!" I tried to mess up her hair but she shrieked and ran away. I drove away laughing and headed over to the Curtis's.

I made my way up the steps, and banged through the screen door. "I'M HOME!"

"Thanks for letting us know, Two-Bit," Soda said, from his spot on the floor. Johnny was playing poker with Steve and Soda. Dallas and Darry wern't there. Pony was sacked out on the couch.

"Hey! I didn't know the kid was coming home, you should have told me!" I said. Glory, it was good to have him back, eBen if it only was for a couple of days.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Darry told you twice this morning."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Did he? Must've slipped my mind, I'm awfully busy."

Soda snorted. "It's a wonder how you manage your schedule. Between Mickey Mouse, eating our chocolate cake, flirting, and disrupting class, you don't have much time to spare."

I faked offense. "I'm offended you think so little of my schedule. I lead a very productive life."

Darry came down the hallway. "You call that a productive life? Then God help us, Two-Bit, cause I'm scared to see your future."

I grinned. "Soeaking of productive, I thought you had work, Darry."

"No, our bosses gave Soda and I the day off,of we come in on Monday. We had to switch Pony's next chemo session to Sunday."

"Oh. How is he, anyway?"

"He's doing pretty good. I want to keep him inside and stuff, because he has high risk for an infection, but he's somehow convinced me to let him and Johnny go see a movie soon. You wouldn't mind going with them, would you?"

"Nope." I said. I don't really like movies, butit here was always some action you can find there: blondes, fights, booze. It would be a good night.

PONY'S POV

I woke up with a start, finding myself staring into a pair of grey eyes that were staring intently at me, trying to wake me up.

"Two-Bit!" I yelled, shoving him off the couch. I didn't have enough energy to wrestle him. "You scared me half to death!"

Two-Bit was doubled over laughing. "I know, that was kind of the general idea. But hey, you woke up, didnt you?"

I sat up, scowling at him. "Whatever way you want to put it."

"Hey, welcome back, kid." I felt myself flush. Did Steve Randle actually just say that to me? It's not that we hate each other, we just mostly ignored each other. Soda was beaming at the two of us like I had just given Steve a hug and told him I loved him or something.

Johnny broke the silence. "Yeah. So, you ready to go to the movie now, Pony?"

"Yeah." I got up and started digging around in the coat closet for my shoes.

"Ponyboy," Darry came out from his room. "Make sure you wear a coat, it's been snowing on and off all day."

"Kay."

"Oh, and let me check your temperature."

"Darry!" I complained as he shoved the plastic stick in my mouth.

"Hey, don't blame me. Blame Dr. Mitchell."

A minute later, it beeped. "98.8 You're free to go, kiddo. Be careful. If you start feeling sick, come home. Be home 6:30 tops. Keep him out of trouble, Two-Bit."

"Two-Bit's coming?" I groaned. Taking Two-Bit to the movies (or anywhere public, really) was a combination of danger and humiliation. I figured that at least it wouldn't be as bad as the church experience. Nothing could be as bad as the church experience.

Soda walked in. "Darry, it should be the other way around. Pony and Johnny need to be keeping Two-Bit out of trouble."

"Aw, I ain't that bad. I keep out of trouble."

"Sure, and I won the lottery." Darry mumbled under his breath.

We left the house 5 minutes later, leaving Darry some time to himself. Soda and Steve were going out with Sandy and Evie. Soda was hesitant about leaving, but I convinced him. I felt incredibly guilty because although I couldn't help it, I was a huge inconvenience. I knew everyone would disagree if I told them, but even if they don't mind it, they can't deny it. I'm just sick of people worrying about me,Spock of hospitals, and just sick of being sick.

I knew Darry was really worried about me going out, and to be honest, I was a little worried myself. I knew that I was at high risk for infection. But Icouldn't just stay inside when I actually had the opportunity for some freedom. The hospital had become sheer torture in the last couple of days. I had been feeling better, so I wanted to get out, but they wouldn't let me. Nathan had left on Wednesday, but was coming back tommorrow. Still, that made things. Worst, I had no one to talk to, soiaklahoma I could do was sleep and do schoolwork. It was really hard to focus and follow the lessons; I had missed a ton and was struggling to catch up. The only good thing that happened was Danny. Daniel (Danny) was Mrs. Dunthers son. Darry and Mrs. Dunthers had become sort of friends over the last week, but she more like a mother figure to the three of us. It felt kind of akward, because we barely knew her, but I had noticed that she was just a motherly type of person, she treated everyone like that. Anyway, aperantly Danny's roommate had just been discharged, cancer-free, and he was totally bored out of his mind. He was walking down the hallways aimlessly (he managed to sneak out of his room), saw my door opened, came into my room, sat down and started talking to me. I was pretty shocked at first, because he was a complete stranger, but I liked him. He reminded me a lot of Sodapop.

"Pony!"

I jerked out of my daze. "What?"

"We're here, let's go."

We got out of Two-Bit's car, which we had parked a couple blocks away from the drive-in. We did this so we could jump the fence and get in without pay. It worked every time. I had a harder timegetting over the fence. I was really out of shape. I sighed, wondering when I was ever going to get back to normal. We slouched down in the front row, there were only a couple of other people there, all greasers, because all the Socs who came were making out with their girls in the back of their fancy Mustangs. Johnny and I were pretty quiet for the majority of the movie, which is more than I could say for Two-Bit. Five minutes into the movie, he was up, flirting with cashier at the concessions stand, stealing a couple packs of Kools, showing his switchblade to a couple of new hoods in Tim Shepard's gang, picking fights with Socs. We didn't try to stop him, he couldn't sit still through the movie anyway.

I was awful tired, and cold, too. I kind of wished I had listened to Darry and stayed home. Don't get me wrong, it was good to actually get out and do things and catch up with people, but it was a bit much. I wish I could've just admited that I was tired and needed a little more rest, but I had convinced myself that I was fine. I shivered violently.

"You okay, Pony?" Johnny was squinting at me, through the dark.

"I'm fine. Just cold, that's all."

"Yeah, it's cold. Movies almost over though. You want to just leave now? The movie's pretty boring."

"Ain't that the truth. Looks like we might have to convince Two-But to leave. He and that cashier are really hitting it off."

"That's Kathy."

"Oh, that explains it then."

It took a bit of convincing to get Two-Bit to leave Kathy, but we managed to get him to the car. I was glad to get in, even if Two-Bit's car didn't have any heat. I was just glad to get out of the snow. We were back home 15 minutes later.

"How was the movie?" Darry called from the kitchen.

"Boring."

"I don't know, I didn't really pay attention." Two-Bit called back.

"In other words, you flirted and stole?" Darry asked, heading into the living room.

"Pretty much."

It was a pretty uneventful night after that. I sat on the back steps with Johnny and we watched the snow (there was no sunset it the winter.) We talked for about an hour, really talked. I told him about how I felt about being an inconvenience to everyone. Thank God he didn't go on about how it was no big deal, how it wasn't my fault. I hated when people did that. Darry called us on after that. He was all riled up cause Soda was late. I wasnt worried, he probably lost track of time. Dally was stretched out on our couch with a beer in his hand.

"Hey Dal, where you been?" Johnny asked.

"Rodeo. Made 50 bucks of some old western guy. He was convinced I couldn't barrel race in the snow on the buckskin. I could."

"Good one."

Dally smiled coldly. "He threw a real fit when I was done. Convinced it wasn't a fair deal. But I got the money." He then noticed me. "Hey, kid."

"Hey, Dally."

We heard loud voices outside, girls laughing, and a car door slam. A minute later, Soda and Steve came in, grinning.

"Sodapop, you were supposed to be home an hour ago! Godd*** it, you had me worried to death!"

"I know, I'm sorry Darry. I lost track of time. I'll be on time next time. I promise."

"I sure hope you will."

I took a shower and got ready for bed after that. I was dead tired and my head kind of hurt. Oh, well. Nothing a little sleep couldn't kill. When I got back to the living room, the gang was gone.

"Where is everyone?"

"Went home. Dally's got a room at Buck's, Steve's dad is out somewhere, Two-Bit is fine at his house, and Johnny's dad had work tonight, so Johnny figures he'll be too tired to do much."

I was still worried. "I hope he's okay. His dad busted his ribs a couple nights ago."

"Don't worry about it, Pone. Come on, Darry said to get to bed."

I went to our room and crawled under the covers. Soda slid in beside me. Glory, it was good to be home.

"You okay, Pony?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I just mean, are you okay with all this? With everything?"

"Soda, stop worrying. I'm perfectly fine."

"Liar."

"I ain't lying."

"Ponyboy Curtis, I've known you long enough to be able to tell when you're lying. Now out with it."

"Soda, I'm tired. Can I just talk to you aboit it later? Please?"

"Sure, little buddy. Night."

"Night."

It was partly the truth. I'm not sure why I didn't want to talk to Soda about it. I think I was afraid to talk about it, it would make it official. Even though it's been a week, I feel like this is someone else's life, not mine, and mine will go back to normal at any minute. I heard Soda breathing slowly and deeply next to me, and I knew he was asleep. I curled up next to him. I was so glad he was there, I had had a nightmare nearly every night I was at the hospital. At least I didn't wake up any other patients, I had learned to be pretty quiet about it. I rubbed my forehead again. Stupid headache. I closed my eyes, and let myself drift off.

I woke up several hours later. The first thing I noticed was the pain. My bones hurt. My headace was splitting. I coughed, feeling congested.

"Soda?" I whispered. No answer. "Soda?"

I reached across the bed and turned on the lamp. He wasn't there. I noticed a glass of water on the bedside table and reached for it. The water on the outside of the glass from the melted ice felt good against my dry, hot skin. I kicked off the blankets, a thin layer of sweat on my forehead.

"D*** it." I swore. "D*** it, d*** it, d*** it." I knew even without a doctor that I was sick. I mentally kicked myself for not telling Darry that I didn't feel good. Could've saved a lot of time, worry, and money.

I lay on my bed for about 10 minutes, my head pounding slowly. I kept almost drifting off, but I jerked myself awake. I had to tell Darry or Soda. But I was so tired...

I sat up slowly, my vision spinning, and I slowly eased myself out of bed. I inched into the hallway and made my way to Darry's room, clutching the wall. I slowly opened his door.

"Darry?" He stirred. "Darry?" He opened his eyes.

"Ponyboy? Are you okay?"

"I don't feel good, Darry."

He sat up, looked at me, and swore. "D*** it."

* I know I said Two-Bit's little sister was named Hannah, but I changed it to Casey because I think that's more original. It's also the name of my dog ;)

Author's Note: So, what did you think? I'm actually pretty pleased with this chapter, something that doesn't happen often. I was planning on having Pony not get an infection, but I was doing research and it said that most cancer patients develop an infection after chemo so I thought why not? Also, I made the Curtis's phone # 667-5309 from the song Jenny because I knew that if I used a random #, it was bound to be someone's # and I wanted it to be one that wasn't real so... Anyway, I hope you liked it! Please don't forget to review. Thanks! Stay Gold! -Emily ;)

I GOT ALL MY INFO FROM THIS WEBSITE:

Infection and Chemotherapy—Diagnosis and Prevention

Low White Blood Count and Febrile Neutropenia— Diagnosing Infection