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He doesn’t remember what he said to Darry. What he does remember is Sodapop’s gasp, still ringing in his ears. He remembers the way Johnny’s face had gone from intensely uncomfortable to horrified. He remembers the silence that had trailed behind him when he spun around and burst out the door, fleeing like a bat outta hell. Ponyboy doesn’t know how long he's been running, or where he is, but he does know that if he stops everything will come crashing down again. Because he said the wrong thing again. The mean thing. He snapped at Darry worse than he usually does, and he doesn’t think he could ever forget the way Darry’s face faltered with hurt.
Suddenly, Ponyboy’s foot slips out from under him on an icy patch, and for a breath-holding moment, everything feels light. Until he crashes to the ground, and feels snow seep into his bones and freeze there, causing them to expand and become so heavy he can’t get up. His fingers twitch, but he quickly stops feeling them at all as he slowly, achingly, turns himself onto his back so he can look at the darkened sky. Snow drifts down in lazy, merciful patterns that land on his skin, mix with the tears streaming down the side of his face, and aid in clumping his eyelashes together. If he looked down, Ponyboy would see his chest moving up and down rapidly. Or maybe it wouldn’t be moving at all. It’s one of the coldest winters Ponyboy has ever seen, and his fingers have already stopped twitching, along with the feeling in his feet fading quickly.
But whether or not Ponyboy is dead, he has stopped moving, and like he had predicted, everything comes crashing down. Darry had been yelling at him again because Pony had missed school, instead sitting in front of the TV, letting the world pass by until it was suddenly nighttime and Darry was home and Johnny was looking down at him worriedly and Sodapop was trying to calm Darry down. Not that it worked. How could Soda - kind, earnest Soda - come up with a reasonable explanation for Ponyboy’s state when Soda himself didn’t understand. And so Darry had yelled, and Ponyboy sat up for the first time that day and argued back. And then yelled back.
‘Not like there's a point in me going anyway! You’re the best thing this family will ever produce, and look at ya!’ Glory, what a mean thing to say to his big brother. If Darry hadn’t hated him before, he hates him now. That’s okay, Pony decides. I don’t need him. Pony is a good liar, when he tries, but he’s never been good at lying to himself.
His head hurts. He probably hit it when he fell. But it doesn’t hurt too bad, and he doesn’t think it’s bleeding. The snow and ice have drained most of the feeling in his body anyway. Pony tries wiggling his toes and- oh. He forgot to put on shoes. He’d look down to make sure, but it’s so cold, and his body is heavy, so he’ll rest for a little longer. If he’s lucky, Darry, Soda, and Johnny have already come looking and will find him soon. Maybe they’ll have thought to bring him socks. And a jacket. Distantly, Pony wonders how long he’d been running, and how long he’s been laying here. It doesn’t feel like it’s been that long, but what would Ponyboy know? He sat on that couch all day today and didn’t notice time had passed until Darry had started screaming.
He’ll apologize to his big brother when they find him. Normally he’d be too prideful to do so, but it’s cold, and the falling snow is making him dizzy, and Pony doesn’t remember when he realized that the sky is full of dark clouds. Or maybe the only cloud is the one produced from his slow, hollow breaths. But the snow is making him dizzy and weighing down his eyelashes, so he closes his eyes for a moment. Maybe when he’s found, they’ll carry him back home, and Darry will apologize and promise to understand, and Pony will apologize and tell Darry how much he loves him. Then he and Darry and Soda and Johnny will curl up on the couch and things will be warm again and his eyelids won’t feel so heavy.
If Darry and the others even decide to chase him anyways. The idea that they wouldn’t makes his slow breath falter, but he wouldn’t fault them if they don’t. He’s mean. He’s so fucking mean. He and Steve never get along, and Two-Bit is always joking about how mouthy he is, and Dally calls him a brat, and the other day Pony snapped at Johnny. He apologized a lot, but he still snapped at Johnny. That’s basically a crime. And with what he said to Darry- he’d flinch in guilt at the memory but Pony can’t feel much of anything anymore.
Opening his eyes, he wonders absently when he closed them, and how long he’s been laying there. He’s not cold anymore. He thinks his back is wet, but it's probably just the melted snow, and the ice that was hiding underneath it. Eventually, he stops feeling that too. Exhaling one last time, Ponyboy looks up at the sky, wondering why its stars have all run off. Ponyboy wishes the stars were out. As his eyes flutter shut, he decides that he’ll…