Chapter Text
The first thing Pony noticed was that his head was throbbing. The second thing was that he wasn’t in his bed. And the third was that he wasn't inside his house. Pony groaned. He licked his lips which were both dry and cracked. Speaking of dry; Pony felt like his throat was filled with sand.
Pony’s eyes blinked open, and was instantly blinded by the hot Tulsa sun. Pony covered his eyes with his arm. As he got himself up, he started to cough. His legs were wobbly. Pony guessed he must have been passed out for a long time. How long had he been out here? Was anyone looking for him?
Pony could bet Darry had a search party of greasers looking for him. Great, Pony internally groaned. More reason for Darry to be on his case.
Pony jogged his memory. The last thing he remembered was coming home from that Paul Newman movie, and being jumped by a group of Soc’s. Did the soc’s knock him out and drive him to a secluded area far away from home just to screw with him?
Probably.
Pony sighed and decided it was best to start moving. The sun would be down before he knew it.
As soon as he started walking, he almost tripped over his feet. Pony frowned. His shoes had no laces in them. Hmm, Pony was stumped. That was weird.
The Soc’s must have taken his laces to mess with him. It looked like he’d have to be more careful.
The further Pony walked; sweat beaded his forehead. It didn’t help that he was wearing a long sleeved flannel in the middle of June
After what felt like hours Pony finally saw the familiar road that would lead him back to the east side.
Then he heard a loud engine of a car. Honestly, he needed some luck. Maybe the person driving the car would be kind enough to drive him home.
As the car stopped next to him, Pony was surprised to see Dallas Winston. Not that he was complaining, It was better to be Dally than some stranger giving him a lift home.
But what puzzled Pony was the angry expression on Dally’s face. Dally being angry wasn’t new or shocking, what shocked Pony was that Dally looked angry at him, specifically.
Dally’s eyes were shooting daggers at Pony.
Why?
“Where the hell have you been! You know you ain’t supposed to be out wondering by yourself.”
“Dally?”
Dally gripped the sterling wheel, making his knuckles turn white. “Get your ass in the car, right now.”
“But…” Pony tried to speak.
“Get in,” Dally said through gritted teeth.
Pony did what he was told and got into the car. Dally being pissed at you was never a good thing. And when he was, you better do what he asked. Though, Pony knew Dally would never actually hurt him. Darry and Soda wouldn’t have that. At most, Dally would give him a good slap upside the head. And believe him, you don’t want to feel the force of Dally’s hand.
Pony found it odd that Dally didn’t start up the car immediately. Dally just sat there shaking his head, and cursing under his breath. Then Dally gave Pony an order that threw him for a loop.
“Alright kid, you know the drill; pull 'em up.”
“Excuse me,” Pony asked, genuinely confused.
“Don’t drag this out. Pull up your sleeves so I can see the damage,” Dally said.
Pony knitted his eyebrows together. Why in the world would Dally want him to do that? And what damage? Was it to see how badly the Soc’s hurt him? Yeah, that was probably the answer.
Pony shrugged and lifted up his sleeves and let out a tiny gasp. There was a big white bandage that was wrapped around his left arm. Pony didn’t remember hurting himself there. But that was the least of it. There were more cuts on both arms. Some old and faded. Some looked fresh.
Glory, did he get into a fight with a cat and lose. That was embarrassing.
Dally didn’t seem fazed by the scars. In fact, he looked as though he already knew about them even before Pony did.
Dally carefully inspected Pony’s arm. It was starting to make Pony uncomfortable to tell you the truth.
“Dally, can I roll down my sleeves now?” Pony asked.
Dally grunted and let go of Pony’s arms. “I don’t see any fresh ones. At least you have that going for you. But Darry is still going to go full military lock down on you.”
“Why? Because I was gone for a few hours? Since when does he care where I go?” No, really. Darry didn’t even like him. He’d probably be happy if Pony never came home, anyway.
Dally let out a sarcastic laugh. “You’re kidding me right? All Darry cares about is you. And don’t get me started on Soda.” Dally whistled. “He's been a blubbering mess since you escaped."
Pony stared at Dally like he grew another head. He was talking about his brothers? Darrel and Sodapop Curtis? Yeah, they were definitely protective of Pony, but Darry panicking, and Soda crying; all over Pony being missing for a few hours?
“Jeeze, the sun's only about to go down. Darry always lets me stay out till midnight.”
Dally’s eyes widened . He looked at Pony like he said the silliest thing in the world. “Midnight? Kid, the sun must have melted your brain. There's no way Darry would let you out for one hour, let alone midnight.”
Again, what the hell? Was he grounded? What did he do? Man, the soc’s must have knocked him out good if Pony can’t even remember why he’s grounded.
“I don't know what's wrong with me. Those’s soc’s must have hit my head real hard,” Pony said, absentmindedly.
The car came to a screeching halt. If it weren’t for Pony wearing a seat belt, he would be minced meat on the asphalt.
“What the fuck did you just say?” Dally let a low dangerous growl.
“When I was walking home from the movies, a red car started following me. It was a group of Soc’s. They cornered me in an alley,” Pony explained. “I don’t remember anything after that.”
“Names, I want names,” Dally demanded.
“Jeeze, Dally I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not fine. This is the last thing you need right now.” Dally rubbed his forehead in frustration. “Is that why you did your little disappearing act? You decided the world was more cruel than you thought, and decided to exit early?”
OK, Dally was absolutely making no sense whatsoever. What exit plan was he talking about?
“All this over a few hours,” Pony mumbled.
“It hasn’t been a few hours,” Dally stated.
That got Pony’s attention. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been gone for three days,” Dally said.
Pony’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. His heart thudded loudly in his chest. What does Dally mean three days. No, that couldn’t be possible.
“Darry’s been calling every hospital in Oklahoma to see if you’ve been admitted,” Dally said.
Hearing that made Pony feel real lousy. He might not be on best terms with Darry, but he’d never want to put him through that. Especially not Soda.
“Look, I know you want some freedom. But you’re too fragile to be left alone. You even had me scared to death,” Dally admitted.
Pony frowned. He really screwed up if Dallas Winston was worried about him. But why did everyone think he was fragile? Sure he had been depressed after Mama and Daddy’s death, but who hadn’t?
The car ride back was completely silent. Pony didn’t want to talk to Dally anymore. Every word that left his mouth ended up making Pony feel bad.
The sun was down by the time Dally pulled up to the Curtis residence. Pony sighed, time to face the music. Pony squeezed his eyes shut - mentally preparing himself to get an earful from Darry.
But that wasn’t what happened.
His brothers must have heard the sound of Dally’s engine. Both Soda and Darry were on the porch in seconds. Both looked tired. Soda eyes were red and welled with tears. Darry’s face was unreadable.
Soda ran from the porch to the driveway, and engulfed Pony into the tightest bear hug. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," Soda kept chanting, like if he stopped saying it, Pony would vanish again.
Pony didn’t hug Soda back, or push him away. Pony just stood there awkwardly. He eventually looked over Soda’s shaking shoulder and saw Dally, who was just leaning against the car, lighting a cigarette with trembling hands.
Soda wouldn’t let go. He kept rocking Pony back and forth, whispering things into his ear that a mother would say to a frightened child.
Ok this was getting too weird for Pony. This time Pony did try to pull away. “Soda, I love you too, but you gotta get off of me.”
Next thing Pony knew was, Darry was beside them “Let him go Pepsi-Cola.”
Soda reluctantly pulled away from the hug. He was still crying. It was a known fact that Soda was the most emotional of all of them. Some would even say he was the heart of the gang, but this was too much. Soda was being dramatic.
“Pony, where were you? We looked for days,” Darry said. He didn’t sound mad like Pony expected, he just sounded exhausted.
Pony shrugged. “I don’t know. I just woke up in a field, and started to walk home and that’s when Dally found me.”
“Some Soc’s beat him up,” Dally spoke up.
Soda had a horrified expression on his face. “Oh my God, are you OK, honey?”
“Yes, I’m OK.” Pony was getting irritated. Honestly he just wanted to go to bed and forget this night ever happened.
“Do you know who did it?” Darry asked.
Pony was about to open his mouth to speak but Dally beat him to the punch. “Kid, says he don’t remember.”
Darry exhaled through his nose. “Come on, Pony, let’s get you inside.”
Pony nodded. Soda wrapped his arm around his little brother's shoulder, and Darry said his thanks to Dally for finding and bringing Pony home.
When they got inside, Pony let out a big yawn. He was beat. “Well, I’m gonna hit the hay. If I’m up for one more minute, I’ll hit the floor.”
“You’re not going to bed yet, Ponyboy,” Darry said. “We need to go over a few things.”
“But I’m tired,” Pony whined.
“Oh, you’re tired?” Sarcasm was laced in Darry’s voice. “Soda and I have spent days thinking you’ve been dead. Just the thought of a funeral nearly made Soda throw up.”
Pony bowed his head. A deep shame washed over him. He never thought of it like that.
“Now get to the bathroom,” Darry ordered.
Soda rubbed Pony’s shoulder. “I’ll be waiting when you guys are done.”
When they were in the bathroom, Darry had Pony sat on the toilet seat, while he rummaged through the cabinet. While Darry was doing that, Pony noticed the changes. Firstly the bathroom was much more neat and clean then when he last saw it Not that it was ever filthy, but it wasn’t this put together.
But what especially confused Pony was the lock on the medicine cabinet. He got a quick peek inside. All the razor blades were in there. Usually they were always laid out on top of the sink. Not that it made any difference to Pony. He didn’t have facial hair to shave yet.
When Pony turned his attention back to Darry, his hands were full. Darry had bandaids, rubbing alcohol and a bottle of pills. Unlike Dally, Darry didn’t ask Pony to roll up his sleeves, he took Pony’s arms without a word looking for fresh injuries. But there wasn’t any. Sure there were still some red ones that were probably weeks old but none that needed immediate attention.
Pony still wasn’t sure where he got them. Now that he thought about it, he should probably ask Darry or Soda. Or the gang. Pony wanted to slap himself for not asking Dally about it.
Darry let out a sigh of relief. Pony thought that was the end of it. Then Darry asked him to do something that made Pony lose his breath.
Darry asked him to pull down his pants.
What the hell? Pony wasn’t doing that.
“Now, Pony,” Darry demanded.
Pony crossed his arms. “No.”
Darry was unfazed by Pony’s defiance. “You don’t have a choice now, do it.”
Pony glared. Who the hell did Darry think he is? “I ain’t taking off my pants, Darry. I’m not hurt anywhere else.”
“Pony, if you don’t do it, I’ll do it for you,” he threatened.
Pony’s face paled. He wouldn’t. Would he?
Pony backed up against the door. “Have you all lost your minds? Why are you, Soda and Dally treating me like I’m about to fall apart?”
Darry didn’t answer his question. “Pony, let’s not play this game. You aren’t going to win.”
Pony didn’t make a move. He stood there, frozen-unsure of what to do.
Darry’s face softened. “Come, baby; I just need to make sure you’re OK.”
Darry calling him Baby did something to Pony. It was rare for Darry to show that kind of vulnerability.
Pony unbuttoned his jeans. His face heated when he pulled down. Undressing in front of your brother was just embarrassing.
Pony gasped at what he saw. There were jagged scars that ran across the top of his thighs. Just like his arms, some were new-ish and some were old. Some of the scars were faded white.
How could this be? How could he not remember? Maybe there was something deeply, deeply wrong with him.
“You can pull them back up,” Darry said.
Pony pulled them up, fastly as he could. His mind was still reeling on what he supposedly had done. Did he do that to himself?
Darry filled a plastic cup with water and handed it to him, along with a tiny pill.
Pony suddenly remembered the pill bottle. As much as Pony depended on aspirin, he knew it wasn't that. Then what was it?
“Time for you to take your medicine, Ponyboy,” Darry said.