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It's been a long time since Ponyboy felt okay.
He hasn't been okay since before his parents died. Not really.
Sure, there were days when he was more okay than others and he could fake it well enough most of the time. But there hadn't been a complete day when he actually felt alright since the night his parents died.
It got a little better after a while, but most of his emotional stability was faked. When Pony began to notice the way that his brothers and his friends looked at him when he said that he wasn't hungry, he began to pretend that he was okay, even when he wasn't. He pretended that he wanted to eat. He pretended that he could actually taste the food in front of him, like it wasn't all plain and bland now.
But he got better.
But then it got worse again, after Dally and Johnny died. Ponyboy didn't know what to do or how to feel.
He felt sad of course because his friends had died.
But he also felt an immense sense of guilt. He felt like the things that happened to Dally and Johnny were his fault. After all, if Pony hadn't been dumb enough to run away after Darry hit him, if he'd have just gone to bed pissed instead of running away, then none of this would have happened!
Pony was pretty sure that the rest of the gang didn't blame him, but every fiber of his being believed that they should.
Pony felt so much worse now than he ever had before with the guilt on top of his sadness. But the rest of the gang was so tough. Ponyboy wanted to make sure that they thought he was tough too, so he didn't tell anyone how bad it was. He didn't tell anyone how heavy the weight of his guilt was. Not even Sodapop.
Pony didn't know how to deal with the pain. He had thought about self-harming before, but he hadn't tried it yet. He was too scared of what his brothers and their friends would do if they found out.
But, on this one specific day, the blame and self-hatred just got so loud in his mind. Pony didn't know what to do, but part of him thought that the pain that would come from cutting would make life easier to deal with, maybe even quiet the pain in his head.
So, Ponyboy went into the bathroom with his switchblade. He closed and locked the door. No one else was in the house, and Darry wasn't coming back for another half hour, Soda coming home even later, because he was out with Steve. There should be enough time for him to do what he had to do.
He'd heard about kids at school who self-harmed by cutting their arms, not deep enough to bleed out, but deep enough to bleed. He figured that was probably the way to do it.
He placed the blade of his switch against the flesh of his arm and pressed down, making a cut. The physical pain washed away his mental pain. He didn't know why, but it did. And he liked it, so he pressed down harder and cut deeper.
He took the blade away from his skin and saw the line of bright red blood trickling from the wound. As the knife was pulled away, the trickle of blood became larger. Pony tilted his head in interest. For some reason, the sight of his red blood on his pale, white skin intrigued him.
He placed the blade on his other arm and cut there too. This cut was deeper and bled more. After making the second cut, Pony put the blade down on the sink. He didn't need it anymore right now. He looked in interest at the blood seeping from the two cuts that he had made, comparing and contrasting the wounds for quite a while, until he heard the door open.
Ponyboy hadn't realized that it had been so long. He wasn't ready for Darry to be home yet. He was even more shocked when he heard other people enter the house after his oldest brother. Pony recognized the voices of Soda, Steve, and Two-Bit. They weren't supposed to be there yet! None of them were!
Pony tried to reach for some toilet paper to try to stop what was left of the blood so that he could clean himself up.
"Pony, we're home," Darry said to his youngest brother.
That's when what Pony had done to himself fully processed in his mind. He became fully aware that he had cut himself, caused himself physical harm, to avoid the mental pain. Tears ran down his face. He shouldn't have done that! Now everyone is going to hate him!
Pony didn't respond to Darry's call.
"Ponyboy, where are you?" Darry asked, concern building in him.
"In here," Ponyboy answered this time.
"Pony, are you okay?"
Ponyboy almost made a smart aleck comment about how he was just using the bathroom, like humans have to, but his voice betrayed him.
"I'm scared," Pony said. The moment the words came out of his mouth, he knew that they were true. Pony was terrified. If his guilt and sadness could push him to do this, what else could they push him to do. He was scared at the very thought.
"Pony, let me in," Darry said as gently as he could manage.
The gang, noticing that something was going on, came to stand in the hallway, just steps behind Darry.
There was a moment of silence where everyone fully expected Pony to stay locked in the bathroom, without giving anyone access. Then, they heard the lock come undone.
Darry opened the door to find his kid brother sitting on the toilet crying, his arms covered in dried blood.
"Ponyboy, what happened?" Darry asked, concerned. But, as usual his concern expressed itself as anger. He raised his voice when he had asked the question. This made Pony fear that he had been right, that if he did this, everyone would hate him. Pony's tears came down harder and faster. He couldn't breathe. Darry was really scaring him.
Seeing what was happening, Steve gently grabbed Darry's arm and tried to move forward. Darry got the message and, to everyone's surprise, moved aside to let Steve talk to the kid. Steve took a moment to get his bearings, glancing around the bathroom for any evidence of what might have happened. He saw Pony's switchblade covered in blood and knew instinctively that it was Pony's own. Steve picked it up gently and held it in front of Pony, far enough away from Pony that he wouldn't be afraid of Steve wielding it, but close enough that Pony would know what he was talking about.
"Did you use this," he said gesturing towards the blade, "to do this?" he asked, gesturing towards the cuts.
The fear in Ponyboy's eyes didn't dissipate, but he managed a small nod.
Ponyboy looked up at his brothers, who were standing in the doorway and said, "Please don't hate me."
Darry and Soda looked at Ponyboy with sadness in their eyes. They had no idea that Ponyboy was doing that badly. He gave no real indication. But they had to answer Ponyboy.
Soda looked at him and smiled sadly. "We could never hate you," he said quietly.
"Never in a million years," Darry confirmed.
Tears started running down his face again. His feelings were getting really overwhelming. He almost wanted to grab the knife from Steve's hand and make another cut. But he didn't.
How could Darry and Soda possibly still love him, despite everything. It just didn't make sense to Pony. After all, not only had he made their lives hell for the past couple of years since their mom and dad died, but he had killed two of their closest friends.
"Why do you still love me? I don't deserve it. I haven't deserved it for a long time." It was then that Pony realized he was about to spill everything.
Everyone was stunned into silence, except for Steve. "You're our brother and we love you no matter what. It doesn't matter what you've done, Pony. We're gonna care about you until the end of the world." Steve was washing off Pony's switchblade as he spoke. Then he closed it up and handed it to Two-Bit, who got the message and put the blade in his pocket.
"Yeah, Pony," Soda said, picking up the conversation. "You don't need to earn our love."
"But I killed Dally and Johnny!"
So that was what this was about. Ponyboy really thought that he killed their two friends. The boys looked at their youngest member sadly. The weight of that must have been crushing. In fact, it obviously was.
Again, it was surprisingly Steve who gave comfort. "You didn't kill them, Ponyboy," Steve said. He was having a hard time maintaining his 'tough guy' exterior. There was nothing that Steve wanted more in that moment than to hug Pony. But he didn't. Not yet.
"But I did. If I hadn't run into that burning church, Johnny wouldn't have gotten hurt and he wouldn't have died. And if Johnny hadn't died then Dally wouldn't have died either. Or if I hadn't run away Bob wouldn't have died either. They'd all still be alive if it wasn't for me."
"Ponyboy, it's not your fault," Two-Bit said. "We always knew that Dally would die like that. And Johnny probably would have gone into that church even if you didn't. He was a good kid. Just like you."
"It feels like it's my fault."
"But it's not," comes Soda's voice.
Ponyboy felt lighter after just having this conversation. He said what he needed to say and the others told them their honest opinions, but he still felt guilty.
Then, Pony sighed, realizing something. "I'm not getting my switch back, am I?"
No one gave him a direct answer. They all knew that they would be doing their best to keep Pony away from cutting himself and they thought that maybe it would be best to keep the knife. At least for a little while. They didn't know for sure that it was the right move, but it felt right in the moment.
Darry came into the bathroom to properly clean the wounds. The rest of the gang left the two brothers alone, even Soda. He knew that he would have the opportunity to talk to his brother later.
As Darry cleaned and bandaged the cuts on Ponyboy's arms, silence reigned. Neither one of them knew what to say.
As Darry finished up, he realized what he had to say. "Why didn't you tell us that you were feeling so bad?"
Pony paused as he tried to word his answer in a way that would make sense outside of his head. "It's just that everyone else is moving on from everything so quickly compared to me and I don't know what that means or how to deal with it. I thought that the fact that I was still mourning to the extent that I am was a weakness," Pony said. He paused a moment before he added, "I still kinda do think that, Darry."
"All of us are mourning in our own ways," Darry told Ponyboy. Pony gave his brother a disbelieving look. "It's true. Haven't you noticed that Steve and Two-Bit are spending even more time here than they used to?" Darry said. Pony realized that was true. The boys had always spent a lot of time at the Curtis house, but now, it seemed as if they spent every waking moment there. "And your changing dynamic with Steve." Pony looked surprised when his brother mentioned that. He'd noticed the change in how Steve was treating him, but figured it had been Soda telling him to lay off. But now he noticed that it was almost as if Steve had been made aware of everyone’s mortality. If Johnny could die, then why couldn’t any of the rest of them. It was as if Steve had decided that some little grudge wasn’t worth it anymore.
“What about you, Darry?” Pony asked.
“I threw myself into work, trying to avoid having to feel things. Clearly, it’s not working very well.”
Pony laughed tightly “Yeah. It’s not working well.”
Darry gently combed a strand of Pony’s hair out of his face. “I guess not.” There is an affectionate lilt to Darry’s voice.
“Thanks, Darry.” Ponyboy didn’t know what else to say.
“Of course, Pony. I love you.”
Ponyboy smiled weakly. “I love you too.”
They went to sit in the living room with the others. The boys were trying to talk and joke around with each other, but there was a dark overtone. No one was quite able to forget about what Ponyboy had done to himself.
After a while, Ponyboy gets tired of being quiet. “Darry?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do we all ignore the bad feelings? Why do we try to push them away? It doesn’t help!”
Darry sighed. “I don’t know, Pony.”
“Is it because it’s not tuff to show emotions?” Pony asked.
“I think so,” Two-Bit answered him.
“But… That’s dumb,” Pony said. “We should be able to feel and talk about our emotions too.”
“Yeah… It is,” Soda said.
“Isn’t there any way to make it go away?” There is a deep pain in Ponyboy’s eyes.
Darry wrapped his arms around Ponyboy and said, “I don’t know, Ponyboy. All I know is that we’ll be here for you no matter what.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“I love you guys,” Pony said, hugging Darry back.
“We love you too,” Two-Bit said comfortingly. He placed a hand on Pony’s back.
Ponyboy closed his eyes. He would never say it out loud out of fear of being seen as not tuff, but Pony loved being hugged. It made him feel safe and loved in a way that nothing else did.
Ponyboy leaned into the physical affection that was being offered to him. Darry smiled.
After a while, the gang falls asleep in a pile on the floor, all of them pressed next to each other, offering Pony the affection and comfort that he so desperately needed.
Ponyboy was the last one awake. He looked over at Two-Bit and saw the bulge in Two-Bit’s pocket, where he had put Pony’s switchblade. He thought momentarily about taking it back while Two-Bit was asleep, but he didn’t feel like he needed to do it. He felt comfortable and safe, curled on the floor with his friends- no, his family- wrapped up around him.
He could take the knife back and cut himself again but he didn’t feel like he needed to do it. He decided to remain in place, feeling the love and comfort that his family was offering him.
For tonight, it was enough. It might not always be, but right then, it was.
Even if he didn’t deserve it.