Chapter Text
I wish I could recall what happened better, everything seemed to be a bit of a blur in my mind. I remember Johnny had saved me, and killed that soc, and I remember how Dally hid us away in that church. I remember the sound of the train as we headed to Windrixville, it's sound low and echoing across the fields and mountains. He felt so cold next to me, wrapped up on his jacket, shivering across my legs. I wanted nothing more than to hold him and keep him close to my chest, keep him safe and warm. I remembered when we finally reached the church how scared I was, my hands were shaking as thoughts ran through my mind. What if someone found us? What if the fuzz were on their way right now? What if that old farmer told on us? I felt my heart racing in my chest, my eyes squeezed shut as I tried not to get ahead of myself. A part of me felt selfish for feeling so afraid, knowing Johnny was probably in a much worse state than me. I don't think I'll ever understand how he managed to stay so calm after taking a life. It was things like that that reminded me how mature he really was, he wasn't a little kid anymore. I wish I could've been more like him, maybe more like Dally. Dally knew what he was doing, how to stay calm. He'd been locked up so many times, it was probably a part of his routine by now.
The sound of footsteps made me shoot up, scrambling to hide behind a bench or wall. I covered my mouth, feeling stupid, but still on edge. But my heart eased as I heard the smooth, soft whistle than only Johnny would know to make. My head fell back against the wall, and I returned the sound gratefully. I ran over to the door excitedly, tripping over myself and landing on my chest, right in front of Johnny. I looked up at him sheepishly, grinning to myself.
"Fancy meeting you here, Johnny."
Johnny chuckled and nudged me with his foot playfully, looking down at me from over a box.
"I swear, Ponyboy, you're gettin' to act more like Two-bit every day."
His voice was soft and sweet, and so incredibly calming I didn't know what to do with myself.
I remember vaguely what he bought for food, mainly just baloney and bread, but I remember the copy of "Gone With the Wind." What I'd give to hear Johnny reading that to me again. I know he preferred me reading it, but every now and then I'd beg him to read it, telling him I loved how he did the voices and narrating. He usually fell for it.
Every night, I'd beckon him over to me, and ask him to lay with me. I had told him I was cold, and I wanted him to keep me warm. He'd laugh and usually call me something, but he'd lay with me anyways. He'd wrap me up in his arms, and sometimes play with my hair, usually saying something like "man, I miss your tuff hair..." Or "I'll never get use to this."
Man, I wish we could go back to that.
I wasn't thinking straight. I don't know what was wrong with me, but I knew I had to help those kids. I couldn't let em burn knowing I could've done something about it. I ran, my legs moving without a single thought. I didn't even think about Johnny following me, or Dally yelling at us. Everything was a blur then, and it's still a blur now. I don't remember what happened after I got out. I knew Dally hit me, and right before then, I heard the awful, gut-wrenching sound of Johnny screaming for me.
I remember the hospital, waiting for news on my friends. I remember that guy talking to me, I think his name was Jerry or something. I wasn't really paying attention to him, I just remember him telling me off about smoking. I couldn't care less what he thought, I needed this cig more than anything right now, the familiar smell of smoke reminding me of home.
My brothers were at the hospital soon enough, and it was then that I realized how much Darry cared. I don't think I've ever seen him so relieved to see me. He hugged me like he'd never see me again, and I couldn't help but cry in his arms. Soda was holding me too, cupping my face and telling me how much he loved me. He had laughed a bit at my hair, but I didn't care about that at all. I don't think I've ever felt more loved than in that moment.
I thought from there everything would be fine. Everyone was safe, Johnny was in the hospital, and the hospital could fix him up just fine. Dally would be fine too, he was tough enough. I visited them as much as I could, and soon enough Dally was allowed to leave. I knew he hated being there, and I couldn't blame him. Johnny wasn't doing as good though. He was laying on his stomach, his head held up by a piece of fabric, only able to see through a mirror that reflected everything above him. I remember the first day I saw him. Two-bit was with me, and I'm glad he was, otherwise I might've broken down right there.
"Hey, Johnnycakes..." I took his hand gently, avoiding any bad burns.
"Hey, guys..." His voice was raspy and quiet, worse than when he smoked a whole pack in an evening.
After a while, I knew he might not get better, and I made sure I was there for him. I read Gone With the Wind every day, all while holding his hand and rubbing the unburned part of his shoulder. He often closed his eyes and just breathed, a small smile on his face. I wish I had a camera to capture the look. I could stare at it all day, just admiring him.
I prayed to whatever God would listen that Johnny would pull through, pull through for all of us. Luckily, I think someone listened.
Johnny actually got better. The doctors explained to him that although his back was injured, he would be able to make a recovery if he took it slow. I think I was more relieved than he was. The doctor also talked about the burns. He said they were pretty bad, and would most likely leave scars, and to be careful to not be rough on them. Johnny was barely awake at the time, but I told the doctor I would make sure he understood everything. Johnny was exhausted and I knew he just needed rest more than anything else right now. I remember holding his hand as he fell asleep, wishing I could stay with him all night.