(Ponyboy's POV)

"Family of Darrel and Sodapop Curtis?"

I froze in place, dreading what the doctor had to tell us. He was average height, shorter than Darry by at least a couple inches, he had dark grey hair, and a calm, but serious, demeanor. He looked like he was an older guy, and I hoped that meant he had a lot of experience in the medical field so he'd know exactly how to save my brothers.

"Yeah," Two-Bit finally replied. "You got an update for us?"

Two-Bit's voice sounded as tense as his body looked, and I reached out to grab his hand that rested on my hospital bed; it was partially for him, but mostly for me because I felt like I needed something to hold on to as I waited for the doctor to answer. Two-Bit silently gripped onto my hand and gave it a squeeze, but he kept his eyes trained on the doctor standing in front of the doorway.

Steve had pushed himself off of the wall, but that was as far as he moved before he froze again, staring at the doctor with his arms crossed. Johnny seemed to instinctively move towards me while he kept sitting in the chair, and Dally stayed exactly where he was.

Besides grabbing Two-Bit's hand, I couldn't move a muscle, or even breathe for that matter. This is it. He's going to tell me that my brothers are gone, and I have to go live in a boy's home all alone.

I'm going to be all alone.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, I have an update on both Darrel and Sodapop."

"Well what is it?" Dally asked impatiently with venom in his voice. He sounded mean, but I knew he was almost as scared and as worried as I was. Almost.

The doctor glanced at Dally with what almost looked like boredom, and I wondered how many scared and nervous family members he had to deal with on a daily basis. He's never had to deal with the gang before, though, and Dally isn't someone to be ignored. After a quick look at Dally, the doctor looked back towards me and Two-Bit. "They're both in surgery right now."

They're in surgery. So… they're alive?

"How are they?" Two-Bit asked on behalf of all of us.

The doctor took a breath before answering. "As you know, Sodapop was stabbed in the abdomen with a knife. The blade pierced through his abdominal cavity and perforated his intestines and liver. The surgeons are working on repairing those organs, and he's receiving fluids to help replace the blood he's lost."

I heard the guys swear under their breaths, and Steve was the first one who managed to speak after hearing the news. "He's gonna be okay though, right?" Steve sounded like if they guy said anything but yes, he would beat the tar out of the doctor.

The doctor turned to look at him, and I could see some wrinkles on his face from the different angle. He's definitely been a doctor for a while; he knows what he's doing. "It's still too early to know for sure, but since he's made it this far, I'm optimistic about his chances."

Steve didn't seem happy about that answer, but he gave the doctor a slight nod before leaning back against the wall and looking down at his shoes, the scowl not leaving his face.

Soda's hurt real bad, but the doctor thinks he'll make it. Soda's tough… he'll be okay… right?

"What about Darry?" Two-Bit's voice immediately brought me out of my thoughts, but it also brought the feeling of dread. What was even worse, the doctor's previously-neutral expression changed to a slight frown.

"He's in rough shape, and he still isn't quite stabilized," he said. "I think the big guy upstairs is trying to call him home, but Darrel is fighting back. He's coded three times since he's arrived, but he's still hanging in there."

What does that mean? Did Darry technically… died… three times?

"Why can't you just patch him up like Soda?" Dally asked angrily, his arms flailing at his sides. "Just stitch him up and give him fluids like his brother!"

The doctor replied calmly, but it didn't do anything to ease my nerves. "We are doing everything we can, but he has sustained significant injuries. The bullet in his leg caused significant bleeding, and among other things, the other bullet pierced his lung, causing Darrel's oxygen levels to plummet. His body is working overtime trying to compensate for having less blood and oxygen flowing while the surgeons are trying to repair the damage and save his life."

The room fell silent as the doctor's words sank in.

"We are doing everything we can, but I suggest preparing yourselves for the worst," the doctor said gently, but firmly. "There is a very good chance Darrel won't make it out of surgery."

It felt like I sprinted straight into a brick wall.

Darry might not make it out of surgery. He might die. The doctor thinks he's going to die.

All I could hear was the pounding of my heart in my ears.

Darry's going to die. My big brother, my protector, my guardian, is going to die.

I suddenly forgot how to breathe.

He's going to die because of me. Soda and I are going to be alone, and that's if Soda makes it.

I was gasping for air.

Darry's going to die. I can't breathe.

(Two-Bit's POV)

"We are doing everything we can, but I suggest preparing yourselves for the worst. There is a very good chance Darrel won't make it out of surgery."

A room full of greasers was never supposed to be that quiet.

We all knew Darry and Soda didn't look good when we brought them to the hospital, and sure, it made sense that they had life-threatening injuries since a Soc literally tried to kill them, but we weren't doctors, so what the hell did we know? Having a bad feeling about someone's condition was one thing, but for a doctor to tell you that it's unlikely that they'll survive is totally different.

Darry can't die. He just can't. I felt nauseous at the thought of losing Darry, and my stomach dropped even more when I remembered Soda wasn't out of the woods yet either. Lordy, this can't be happening.

After the news of Darry's condition set in, Dally looked real angry, and I hoped he didn't deck the doctor just for delivering the bad news. I wouldn't get him out of jail if he landed there; I had to take care of the Curtis brothers and other things at the hospital, so Dally would be on his own if he did something reckless.

Steve, on the other hand, looked distant and stone-faced. Then I glanced at Johnny, but instead of focusing on the doctor like everyone else, he was looking at Ponyboy with a worried look on his face. "Pony?"

One look at Ponyboy told me that he wasn't taking the update on his brothers too well. Of course not, Keith. His brothers are his whole world, even if he and Darry fight sometimes. Ponyboy was breathing way too fast to be considered normal, and he was shaking like a leaf.

"Take a breath, Ponyboy," I said to our injured friend.

Ponyboy didn't even look at me, or anyone for that matter. His eyes were looking towards the doctor in the room, but I had the feeling he wasn't actually looking at the man. His breaths got real ragged and it sounded like he was wheezing.

"What's wrong with the kid?" Steve asked, pushing away from the wall. His voice didn't sound annoyed or bored; he actually sounded concerned for our young friend. Steve can pretend to be tough and hate the kid all he wants, but I know he's just acting. Just like when he was trying to convince himself that Pony didn't technically get shot; it's his defensive against having feelings or caring about someone other than himself and Soda.

"What do you think is goin' on?" Dally shot back at Steve. "He's freaking out because this guy," he said, pointing to the doctor, "told him brothers are gonna die."

At Dally's words, Pony started to sound like he was choking or like he was about to throw up, and I wondered if he felt as nauseous as I did when I heard about Darry and Soda's conditions. I grabbed the garbage bin that was on the floor next to me and set it on Pony's lap in case he needed it.

As Pony kept choking and gagging on air, Johnny whispered comforting words as I shot Dally a look. "Shut up, Dal, or get outta here. Sayin' things like that ain't helping."

Dally looked like he was going to jump across Pony's bed and fight me, but Johnny spoke before he had the chance. "Lay off, Dal. Don't start anything. Pony just needs a minute."

I never understood how Johnny Cade was the only person Dally would listen to, but I was thankful for it, because Dally went from looking like a raging bull to his normal, angry self.

The doctor, who was apparently still in the room, cleared his throat before speaking. "I didn't say anything is definite, but both Sodapop and Darrel will need to keep fighting to have any chance of recovering."

Between choked-out sobs, Pony started gasping out words as he shook in the hospital bed. "Can't… Darry… fault… Soda… alone." Words stopped escaping the kid's mouth, and he was barely able to get air into his lungs.

I had no idea what Ponyboy was trying to say, but anyone with eyes could see he was having some type of panic attack or something. I put my hand on his back and tried to rub circles like Soda always did for him. "Calm down, Ponykid. You gotta breathe, man."

My words had no effect on him. Pony was practically trembling and wheezing as he sobbed, and finally the doctor yelled something into the hallway that I didn't hear over the noises Pony was making. He's gonna suffocate if he doesn't start breathing normal. Then the doctor moved to stand next to me on the side of Pony's bed, and he put a hand on Pony's shoulder. "Mr. Curtis, I asure you, we're doing everything we can to help your brothers."

Suddenly, a nurse came rushing in with a syringe of something. Before I could ask, she shot the fluid into the line that connected to Pony's right elbow.

"What the hell did you just give him?" Dally asked harshly before any of us had a chance to ask the same thing.

"It's medication to help calm him down," the doctor explained while the nurse backed away, looking at all of us with a worried glance. I didn't miss the fact that her wide eyes stayed on Dally the longest.

Ponyboy was still in some type of panic, so I kept rubbing circles on his back and talked to him. "You need to relax, Pony. Your brothers are tough," I said, hoping that the two oldest Curtis brothers had it in them to keep fighting, if not for themselves, for their kid brother.

"C'mon Pony, breathe man. Your brothers will be okay," Johnny said quietly. I really hope he's right.

Gradually, Ponyboy calmed down and his breathing wasn't as chaotic as before. After a minute or so, he even stopped crying and shaking. He didn't seem like he was going to throw up, so I took the garbage bin from his lap and put it back on the floor, using the other hand to keep rubbing circles on his back. I thought Pony would just be relaxed and breathe normal, but whatever he was given quickly made him fall asleep. His head got heavy and it tilted to the side, and once Pony's eyes closed and his breathing evened out completely, I retracted my hand at the same time Steve shot the doctor an angry look.

"You didn't say you were knocking him out!" Steve yelled. I knew Steve cared about Ponyboy. "What if something happens with his brothers while he's asleep? Do you really expect us to wake him up to tell him? Or what if the kid doesn't wake up again?"

Steve's comment made me stiffen in the chair. Could that really happen?

"The sedative will wear off in a couple of hours," the doctor said calmly, but sternly. He used the thing that had been draped around his neck to listen to Pony's breathing or heart or something, but everything was apparently normal since the doctor straightened up after a few seconds. "I don't want him aggravating his injuries, so that was the best way to keep him safe while calming him down. He's going to wake up fine, just maybe a little groggy."

Dally and Steve were fuming, and it was only a matter of time before one of them did something bad. I stood up and addressed the doctor. "Mind if we chat out in the hall, doc?"

The doctor seemed surprised by my request, but after a second or two, he almost seemed relieved. "Yes, let's have a word. I'm sure Ponyboy here will be in good hands," he said without looking at the guys at all.

I followed the doctor out of the room and into the hallway. We took a few steps down the hall to get some space from the guys, and I hoped they weren't planning on following me, just in case there was more serious stuff going on that the doctor didn't tell us yet.

As soon as we stopped, the doctor spoke sternly. "Mr. Mathews, your friends need to watch their attitudes. I understand tensions are high and everyone is stressed, but other doctors and nurses aren't as forgiving as I am, and they won't hesitate to kick them out of the hospital."

Despite the seriousness of everything going on, I gave him a grin. "I dig, I'll get them to calm down and lay off a bit. But good luck to anyone who tries to kick any of us outta here, because we ain't goin' without a fight."

I was pretty sure I saw the smallest grin on his face before it returned to his normal expression. "What did you want to discuss?"

Right to the point, I guess. "How long do you think Pony will have to stay? He ain't exactly the biggest fan of hospitals, especially if his brothers ain't with him."

The man thought for a moment before answering. "I'll need to reassess him when he wakes up from the sedation. Physically, he's probably fine to be discharged, but I'm worried about his mental state. We might need to keep him for a short time, giving him low doses of sedatives until he can deal with his brothers' conditions."

"So he's gonna be drugged up the whole time?" I asked, my voice not hiding my irritation.

"A light sedative will just keep him calmer and a little sleepy, nothing else," the doctor said confidently. I wasn't so sure about it, but I didn't have a choice other than to listen to the guy. At least until Pony wakes up, then I'll talk with him about this whole "sedative" thing. "Was there something else on your mind, Mr. Mathews?"

I took a breath to steady myself before forcing the words out. "Give it to me straight, doc. What are Darry and Soda's chances? I gotta know, and since I'm in charge of Soda and Pony with Darry out of commission, I really need to know."

He looked at me carefully, like he was thinking real hard about something. Finally, after two or ten minutes, he answered in a soft voice. "Your friends have significant injuries, and it could go either way. I want you and your friends to be prepared for anything. I understand that you've assumed temporary custody of Sodapop and Ponyboy?" I nodded, not knowing how much of the Curtises' situation the doctor was aware of. "I hope you're prepared for that to become permanent."

It felt like a weight dropped in my stomach. How could this really be happening? A couple of hours ago, we were getting jazzed up for the rumble, and now a doctor is telling me to prepare for taking custody of at least one of the Curtis brothers.

"With that being said," the doctor started, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Darrel and Sodapop are obviously fighters. If anyone has a chance to survive this ordeal, it's them. And if any of you believe in a higher power, I suggest talking with them and asking for some favors. We could use all the divine help we can get."

I nodded silently. For once, I couldn't find any words that were worth speaking.

Suddenly, the doctor put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a small smile. "You and your friends are obviously close. I know it's a lot to process, but you're doing a good job, son."

I nodded again. "Thanks."

The doctor took his hand away and looked at me with an unreadable expression. "I'm going to go check on Darrel and Sodapop. I'll find you in Ponyboy's room as soon as I have any news."

Once again, I nodded my head before turning to return to Pony's room.