Chapter Text
Ever since Ponyboy was so young that he could barely walk which made him look like a baby giraffe learning how to use its legs for the first time, he was called sensitive.
Not only was he sensitive, but it seemed like he felt all of his emotions on a bigger scale than a lot of people did. It was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it meant he loved so dearly, but a curse because it affected him in every aspect of life.
Sodapop was known as a crybaby when they were younger. He'd cry to movies, books his mom read to him at night, and even the people on the side of the street who couldn't afford a home. He was known as the crybaby of the family but he was nowhere near as sensitive as Ponyboy was.
Ponyboy would cry anytime his parents would raise their voices, (which was extremely limited), and would get offended anytime Soda and Darrel wanted to do something without 'the baby' tagging along. He would easily get angry when called such a name and would complain loudly to his parents for what felt like hours, which they would huff and laugh at before attempting to calm him down.
Everyone knew Pony was a sensitive child, but the person who knew it most was his mom.
Mrs. Curtis was sent through a whirlwind with raising children. Darrel was tough and easily hid how he felt, much like Mr. Curtis. Sodapop cried easily at each thing but would be laughing the very next moment. Ponyboy, however, was different. He couldn't hide his emotions or switch how he was feeling in a matter of seconds unlike both of his brothers could. He'd always run to his mom when something was wrong, even after the other Greasers started hanging out around the house. Ponyboy always wanted to be tough, especially in front of Dallas Winston, (someone Mrs. Curtis truly adored even if she refused to say it aloud in case of embarrassing the boy), but when Ponyboy felt the need to cry he always came to her.
He'd wrap his tiny fingers around just a few of hers when he was anxious. It's like he always needed some comforting presence beside him to keep him calm. When she wasn't there, he'd grab onto Darrel or Sodapop as well. Both of his brothers quickly became use to a tiny hand grabbing theirs or a small tug on the hem of their t-shirts. While Darrel pretended to be annoyed by it, he really wasn't. Sodapop made it very well known that he didn't mind at all- even being the one to seek out Ponyboy when someone made a rude comment to check on the younger.
Darry and Soda were always two people Ponyboy could rely on like that. When the other guys in the gang became too much they'd quickly shift their eyes towards the younger just to double check if he was okay. They'd tell off anyone, Greaser or Soc, for saying something that might make Ponyboy cry. He both loved and hated it. Hated that he was seen as weak but loved that two people cared about him that much.
When their parents passed Ponyboy didn't take it well. At all.None of them did, of course. But Ponyboy was so sensitive and so young.
Even though in the few years leading up to the accident he had become more tough and rugged just like every greaser did, he still went crying to his mom every once in a while. But now he couldn't.
So he learned how to hide his emotions. He learned how to hide the twinge of pain he felt deep in his heart with basically anything. He needed to be tough. Not only because he didn't have a mother anymore, but because there were expectations. He was already known as the boy who painted and drew, he didn't need to also be known as such a sensitive person. Greasers aren't sensitive. They can tell when someone's joking and when the person needs to be punched in the jaw for a certain comment. Greasers are tough and Ponyboy needed to learn how to be as well.
But recently, it feels like he can't get out of his own head. Being sensitive and feeling everything so much deeper often leads to him feeling like things are his own fault. After the fire that almost killed Johnny, and in turn almost killed Dallas, Ponyboy couldn't stop thinking about it.
If he had picked up that frosting or if he hadn't got distracted with Cherry at the drive-in…. None of this would have happened.
The other Greasers quickly shake their heads and tell him it's not true when he says he feels like it's all his fault, but he knows on some level they believe it is. He saw the way they looked at him in the hospital as the doctor read off everything that was medically wrong with Johnny Cade.
No matter what he does he can't get it out of his head. He wakes up every night with a scream stuck in his throat and tears streaming down his face as he relives the memory of the fire over and over again. He's had so many nightmares recently but luckily most of them don't wake Soda up. He usually ends up staring up at the ceiling while trying to quiet his sobs as Sodapop sleeps peacefully beside him.
It's wrong, but in a way Pony just wishes this was all over with. He wishes he drowned in the water that fateful night or wishes the fire had killed him or at least injured him gravely. He's so, so tired of being a Greaser. Tired of the Socs constantly out to get him even though Bob was still alive and fully recovered. Tired of having to pretend he's okay. Tired of simply waking up every morning.
Ponyboy knows it's wrong to want to be dead. And it's not like he's going to do anything about it- it's just a thought. An extremely enticing thought.
"Pony, why don't you come watch a movie with us or something? Please?" Soda chews on his bottom lip as he all but begs his brother to come do something. Ponyboy has barely moved over the past few days. Ever since Johnny and Dallas finally came home from the hospital it seemed like everything was relatively back to normal. Johnny was still recovering, but since he was spending more time at the Curtis home or at Bucks than staying at his 'home' he's been doing better. However, Ponyboy is clearly still affected by the fire and almost killing that Soc. Sodapop just wishes he knew exactly what to do but he doesn't. He doesn't understand the nightmares or everything Ponyboy went through. All he can do is basically beg for him to leave his room for once and hope that helps.
Ponyboy sits up and squints against the brightness seeping in from the hallway. He almost tells Soda to just watch a movie without him, but he hates worrying both of his older brothers. So, reluctantly, he shoves himself out of bed and attempts a small smile at Sodapop.
Even though Soda knows the smile is fake since it doesn't quite reach the younger's eyes like it normally would, his face still lights up and he grabs Pony's hand, dragging him down the hallway.
The bright light continues through the house and Pony's eyes are basically shut from how harsh he's squinting to try and keep as much of it away as he can. His legs don't move as fast as they normally would and he feels like his feet are sliding against the floor as Sodapop guides him to the living room.
When they sit Ponyboy just stares off into space. He's so tired and wishes more than anything that he could just be back in his bed and doze off, but he owes this to Soda. And Darry, even though he's pretty sure the older doesn't care.
The relationship between Darrel and Ponyboy was still strained- no matter how much they try and fix it. It's another reason that Pony feels so tired. He constantly has to walk on egg shells all around his own home. He wants to make them both proud but he also just wants everything to be easier.
Maybe if he could run away just like him and Johnny always talked about. But would he still want to do that after the incident?And would he want to spend his whole life with Ponyboy? Out of everyone Johnny would probably rather be with Dallas. Ponyboy's the whole cause for this anyw-
"Pony!" A voice shouts from beside him. His head shoots over to the side and he makes eye contact with an extremely worried Sodapop. His eyes shift across the rest of the room and he realizes that Darrel is there now, too. Standing off in the corner with an equally as worried expression across his face.
"What?"
Darry huffs before sitting down in his chair, "I asked if you were hungry. But apparently you couldn't hear me."
Soda shoots him a harsh look as Ponyboy has a frown pull at his face. Both Sodapop and Darrel hold eye contact for a long moment, a silent conversation happening between them.
To be truthful, they've been really worried about Pony. They've had multiple whispered conversations at night as they anxiously watch the joint bedroom door to make sure Ponyboy can't hear them. It's not like it would really matter, though. He barely moves all day.
Not only that but his eating habits are even worse, too. He's barely eaten anything at all the past few week and since he was already so thin to begin with it's unbearable to watch. Each day he keeps getting skinnier and skinnier and Sodapop and Darrel have no idea how to force food down his throat.
They both turn back to Ponyboy waiting for his answer as he stares off at a wall.
"Bathroom," Is all Ponyboy says after a long moment before he shoots up and briskly walks away in attempts to get away from the awkwardness of the living room. He slams the door shut and stares into his reflection. He hates it. Hates how long his hair has gotten ever since Johnny cut it and hates how grown out it is. He looks just like he did on that fateful night, expect now there is blonde at the tips of his hair.
Reaching into his pocket for his switch he considers how stupid this it. Maybe it's stupid, maybe it's not. But all Ponyboy can do is slice away chunks of his hair. The clumps fall into the sink but he doesn't stop; he just keeps cutting over and over again.
When he's finally done and the anger has subsided he sees how awful his reflection looks. His hair is a choppy mess and he looks utterly insane. A wave of nauseous comes over him just like it has almost everyday the past few weeks but he pushes it down before anything can come out.
He needs a smoke. He needs something.
He stares for a long time before pushing himself away from the sink. After flicking the light off he speed walks back towards his room. Looking around he pats his pockets for cigarettes and a light until he remembers they wouldn't be there. Goddamn it, Darry.
"Ponyboy?" He hears shout down the hallway- most likely Sodapop. He must've been gone for a concerning amount of time even though it's only felt like seconds.
He considers rushing over to Soda and begging for help for a long moment. To beg him to make the pain go away and to make everything better just like he would've done when he was a child with his mother. Instead, he pushes the window open and feels the cold air blast against his face. He swings one leg over and then the other, using the window sill to balance as he basically falls towards the ground.
Once both his legs hit the ground he takes off running, as fast as his legs will carry him.
The moment he's out of the front lawn is the same moment Sodapop has opened his bedroom door and gasped at the sight of the window ajar. Ponyboy doesn't even have the chance to hear Soda scream for Darry before he's all the way down the street.
He just wants everything to be over with. For the world to stop spinning and for something to take his mind off where he'll be tomorrow. He just wants everything to be done. Ponyboy needs something to get him to forget everything just for a little while.
And he knows exactly who he needs to go to.
When Curly wakes up to rocks being thrown at his window he's rightfully pissed. It's midnight on a weekday, who in their right mind is coming anywhere near the Shepard's house at this time? While he is obviously awake, (because who really cares about school that much?), he just wants peace and quiet for the night. For a long moment he thinks it's Angela locked out once again, which is the main reason he takes a while to actually go check. If it is Angela he should just leave her locked out as karma for pissing him off that morning.
But the rocks just won't stop. So he groans and slides out of bed, throwing his window open and peeking his head out.
"Who the hel- Ponyboy?" Curly exclaims in confusion. He's not usually one to judge, but the other boy looks like shit. His hair is twice as short as it was last time Curly saw him and his eyes are red and puffy, but he looks completely sober. Meaning that he's been crying and isn't high. What a shame.
"Come walk with me. Bring your weed, 'kay?" Ponyboy shifts back and forth on his two feet. He resists the urge to wring his hands together since he knows it'll only show how nervous he feels. Why does he feel nervous?
"Baby Curtis-" Curly starts, trying to get Pony to talk before the other boy cuts him off with a sharp shake of his head and a hand motion of shooing him away.
Curly groans, hating to be told what to do and rolls his eyes. Instead of telling Pony to fuck off he ducks back into his room to put on a shirt and shoes and grabs his cigarettes. He decides against bringing any pot since he knows Ponyboy doesn't actually like it and just wants to use it to get out of whatever shit he's gotten himself into. Ponyboy almost always has a cigarette between his lips nowadays so Curly's even more confused on why he doesn't have one now.
Realistically, Curly could go out the front door and no one would really care. Tim might give him some shit for making a lot of noise, but it wouldn't be a big deal. Instead he once again plays into Ponyboy's game and slips out the window, falling onto the ground and looking up at the other boy with a wide smirk.
"Lead the way, Baby Curtis."
Ponyboy sighs, but reaches for one of Curly's arms and takes off basically jogging away from the house.
Physical touch isn't normal for them. They really aren't that close, anyways. They talked a bit before Curly was thrown into the cooler but ever since he's gotten out and stuff happened they haven't had the chance to talk. But instead of brushing him off or saying something rude like he would with anyone else Curly just allows himself to be dragged wherever Ponyboy wishes.
Maybe he's going soft. Maybe he just doesn't mind. Curly smirks and attempts to keep his feet up with Ponyboy and how fast the other boy is walking.
When they finally make it to some random park Ponyboy dramatically falls onto a bench. Curly continues standing, staring down as Ponyboy with a smug smile. When Ponyboy gets sick of being stared at like that he tugs on Curly's hand and forces him to sit his ass down.
Once they're both sat Ponyboy holds out his hand expectantly. Curly's smirk never falters as he reaches into his jean pocket to grab his smokes and the other pocket to grab a lighter. He places one in his mouth and lights it before handing it off and doing the motion again.
"Jesus, no one's taking it from you. Where are yours, anyways?" Curly chuckles. The way Ponyboy is inhaling the cigarette is as if it's the last one on earth.
"Darrel took 'em. Said I was smoking too recklessly or whatever." Ponyboy shrugs before taking another hit. Usually he would try and savor them but he finds that he just wants it more and more. After not smoking for days it feels so nice for the smoke to fill his mouth.
"I can see what he's sayin'" The other boy mumbles, taking a hit of his own. Ponyboy throws him a hard glare before looking away into the night.
It's silent for a long time in an almost eerie way. Every time they hang out one of them is cracking a joke or Ponyboy is over explaining everything Curly missed in school, which he always rolls his eyes to because since when did he care about school? He always lets Pony tell him everything anyways since he knows it brings him joy or whatever.
"Why didn't you bring the weed?"
"You don't even like it."
"Yeah, but I could use it," He groans.
Curly rolls his eyes, "If you got something you want to talk about baby Curtis then spit it out."
Ponyboy purses his lips before holding his hand out for another cigarette. While Curly knows he logically shouldn't give Pony another one he also knows he's having a hard night. He begrudgingly hands over another smoke in the hopes that he'll start talking. It works just like he knew it would.
"I just feel like there's no point, you know?" Ponyboy cuts himself off, holding the rest of what he's thinking to himself. This wasn't apart of the plan. All he was going to do was bother Curly until the boy helped him get high and then sneak back into the house. Talking was not apart of any plan.
"Point of what?" Curly asks.
Pony should've known better. Curly is always curious and is rarely able to bite his tongue. If there's something he wants to know, he'll ask. No matter who he's asking. Ponyboy is no exception to this. That's why they have the relationship- whatever you would call it- that they do.
"Just life. Being a Greaser."
This makes Curly freeze up, the cigarette he was smoking held right in front of his lips. He can't bring himself to take another drag as he looks towards him. He's heard similar words coming from other Greasers but from Ponyboy it feels a lot more real. Like he'd do something about it. The dark look in his eyes makes Curly believe it even more.
"The hell? You suicidal or some shit, Curtis?"
This pisses Ponyboy off more than he can describe. He likes to think he can usually keep himself cool and calm but for some reason Curly's words piss him off. He doesn't say anything, just stands abruptly and rolls his eyes, quickly speeding away from the other boy. He feels anger all throughout him. Suicidal? That's bullshit.
Suicide is talked about all the time in their school. The counselors always warn them about the 'signs' and whatever. But that's not Ponyboy. He's fine. He just needs to get high and forget about today. And preferably tomorrow, too.
He hears footsteps quickly speed up behind him and maybe he hears his name called a few times too, but he doesn't care. He just keeps walking as fast as his legs will take him. The tears that pool in his eyes are blinked away with only a few falling, which are quickly swiped from his face before Curly is able to see. But Ponyboy knows that he sees them anyways.
"Holy- Baby Curtis just-" Curly's out of breath as he speeds up and grabs Ponyboy's shoulder. He pulls the other boy backwards so they become face to face. They stare at each other for a long moment, both of them heavily breathing after their 'chase'.
When Ponyboy reaches up the take another drag of his smoke Curly plucks it out of his hand and lets it fall onto the ground before stepping on it and putting the flame out. Ponyboy is still angry and can still feel silent tears fall from his face, but he doesn't say anything or try to wipe the tears off. He just stares blankly at Curly.
"You can't just say stuff like that." Curly says after another long moment and swallows right afterwards. Hr rarely gets nervous, but after everything that's happened in the past year his plan was to keep an eye on Ponyboy- just in case. It's clear he's been doing a horrible job at that, apparently.
"It's the truth."
"The truth? So what you want to kill yourself? Is that the reason for your hair and the reason you wanted to smoke so bad?"
Ponyboy hates that he's right and hates that he knows. Maybe he should've just done it instead of coming to find Curly. It's not like he cares about him, anyways. He looks away and stares far into the night as he lets his mind wander. It'd be so easy. He constantly has access to a blade and he's sure if he took a handful of pills from the bathroom cabinet he'd be able to die fast. It'd be so, so easy…
When Ponyboy doesn't say anything else and doesn't seem like he'll bolt the moment he's able to, Curly slowly releases his shoulders. He's not good at this kind of thing- comforting or whatever. The other Curtis brothers would be much better then he seems to be.
"Who else knows?" Curly asks, which makes Ponyboy shrug his shoulders. So no one. Probably not even Cade, he thinks.
After what seems like their hundredth long moment of silence Curly lets out a long sigh and rubs his eyes.
"Look- I'm not good at this shit, okay?" This causes Ponyboy to snort and a small smile to appear on his face which Curly takes as a win.
"Let me walk you home. And tomorrow come back to my window and we'll do this again, okay?" Ponyboy furrows his eyebrows and lets the smile fall off of his face. It's not like they're not friends, but they don't exactly talk everyday either. Why would Curly be offering to hang out with him again after it's clear he was annoyed earlier?
Sensing his confusion Curly continues to ramble, "Gives you a reason to live to tomorrow or whatever. You better show or I'll kill you myself, I swear. Savvy?"
Ponyboy smiles once again, "Savvy."
The two begin the long walk to the Curtis home in silence but the air is a little bit lighter this time. Curly's nervous and Ponyboy can tell by the way he doesn't reach for another smoke and instead shoves his hands into his pockets. The bugs flutter around them creating a soft buzz which soothes most of Pony's thoughts away.
Maybe it's nice to know someone cares like that and cares to see him tomorrow. Instead of everything that's happened plaguing his mind the main thing that he thinks is what excuse he'll use on Sodapop and Darrel. He doesn't say it, but he gets the urge to thank Curly all of a sudden even though he isn't really sure what for.
When he walks through the front door it's eerie how quiet it is. For a second he considered sneaking back in through his bedroom window but ultimately decided against it. He'd have to have this conversation at some point so it's best to just have it now.
He attempts to open the front door quietly and shuts it as silently as he can behind him. However, his efforts are proved useless when he turns around and makes direct eye contact with Darrel and sees Sodapop peeking over his shoulder.
He lets out a long sigh before mumbling a small, "I'm sorry."
Darrel sucks in a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. He does that a lot recently because he promised Soda that he'd yell less so he tries to calm himself down before talking to Ponyboy.
"Where were you?" He asks slowly.
"With a friend."
"At- at one in the morning? Ponyboy, be serious."
Soda quickly places a hand on Darrel's shoulder and waves Ponyboy over to the couch to make both of them sit down. He has an anxious look across his face and it makes Ponyboy feel a lot worse than he thought it would. Sodapop is supposed to be happy and making jokes like he always does, not worrying about his younger brother.
The three of them sit in tense silence, the only noise being cicadas from outside of the house. Ponyboy refuses to meet either of his brother's eyes, looking at the floor and then the ceiling. He wishes he had a sketchbook or a cigarette in his hands just so he had something to do with them.
"Pony- we're real worried about you, okay?" Sodapop finally speaks up, looking Ponyboy directly in the eyes. He looks just as anxious as he did when he Ponyboy ran up to him in the hospital a few weeks ago. Soda also looks like he's holding back from saying the full truth, which he is. Sodapop wants to tell him about everything they've noticed but refrains just incase he freaks him out.
His face must've had the same amount of confusion as he felt written across of it since Darry speaks up next before Ponyboy even utters a word.
"You've been so off recently, Pony. I mean sneaking out in the middle of the night? And your hair- my god you scared both of us shitless when we found your window open and chunks of hair in the sink. It looks fine but why didn't you ask one of us to cut it? Or ask us to leave the house?" There's slight irritation in his voice, but he mostly sounds worried.
Ponyboy resits the urge to roll his eyes. Why didn't he ask them to leave the house? Probably because they barely have let him leave ever since the fire. He doesn't say that, though. It would only piss Darry off more and make Soda more worried.
So instead he just shrugs, not trusting his voice and reaches a hand to slide through his now short hair.
Darrel sighs harshly and stands up quickly, "We'll talk about this more in the morning" He then walks back to his room and slams the door shut, causing Sodapop to flinch hard. Soda looks back at his brother and lets out a small sigh just like Darry did, whispering that he's headed to bed and for Ponyboy to join him whenever he feels ready. Then Soda is gone too, leaving Ponyboy to sit on the old couch by himself.
He hates worrying them, but if he were to tell them everything he's thinking they'd just freak out on him like Curly did but much, much worse. Curly is tough and doesn't care about Ponyboy nearly as much as his brothers do. Not saying Curly doesn't care, since he clearly does after tonight, but if Sodapop heard that Ponyboy wants to kill himself? He'd lose it. And the very thought of the face Darry would make almost makes Ponyboy gag and throw up. He hates worrying his brothers more than anything.
So he lets himself cry on the couch by himself, like he has every night this past week. He cries until he knows no more tears will spill out in fear of Sodapop seeing him sobbing.
He then picks himself off the couch and heads back to their room. He grabs a random pair of clothes to sleep in and hops in the shower. He stands under the spray of water until the heat feels like it's burning his skin and he's all red.
After he's dried off he quickly grabs a random pill bottle and squints against the dim light to read the bottle, NyQuil pills. He doesn't even think about it before he's removing the child-proof cap and popping three of them in his mouth and drinking mouthfuls of water from the sink.
It's just to help me sleep. That's it.
After swallowing the pills and cringing at the feeling of them sliding down his throat he gets into bed right beside Soda. Fully expecting for his older brother to be asleep, he nearly flinches when he hears his voice speak up.
"I know you don't want to talk about it, but we're here for you."
It's a simple thing to say but Ponyboy feels like crying all over again from the words. He gulps down the lump building in this throat and nods his head- hoping that Soda understands even in the dark.
He lays on his back just like Soda does and shuts his eyes. Right before he falls asleep, he reaches out and wraps all his fingers around Soda's wrist, just like his did when he was little.
Ponyboy falls asleep long before he can see the small tear slip out of Soda's eye. Even after Pony's grip lessens, Soda doesn't moves his hand. He just let's the younger's fingers stay draped around his arm. Just like when they were kids.