{{ If Ponyboy Drowned... }}

Chapter One - Johnny's POV

I woke up to the sound of hushed voices, but even though I was disoriented and some distance away from the group I could see, I knew they were panicking. At first I was sort of confused, and my head was hurting something awful. It took me a second to be fully aware of my surroundings- the clear night sky, the quiet fountain running, the cold breeze, and the rough, hard concrete I was lying on. Then came my memories. Me and Ponyboy drifting to sleep in the vacant lot, getting woken up suddenly, running down the street in the middle of the night.

Along with that came back my memory of what had just happened, and what led up to it. The blue Mustang that trailed us all the way here, how they circled us and threw me to the ground, the boy with the rings who hit me like he did all those months ago, Ponyboy, who was out of my view- and suddenly the sound of water rushing made me panic. Ponyboy, I need to do something about Pony, I thought with a sense of urgency.

As I tried to get up, I watched the group stumble back their car in a hurry, leaving me there. The sight in front of me made me shudder. I felt a lurch in my stomach. There was a boy in a drenched, navy-blue sweatshirt slumped by the fountain, his face in the water...

"Ponyboy!" I called weakly, springing up despite how I ached. I nearly tripped over myself as I ran towards him, pulling him out and falling back onto the ground with my arms around him. He laid on the concrete, an ominous, blue-tinted glow cast over his face. His lips were purple and his eyes were closed, and he was soaked. Just seeing him like that, so still, it made me feel like there were bricks on my chest that stopped me from breathing properly. I was feeling unsteady and the world spun unceasingly, my heart pounding against my chest.

What would Darry say? And Sodapop?

But I wasn't even sure if he was dead, he couldn't be, even though I couldn't hear him breathing, even though I couldn't feel his heartbeat when I put my hands on his chest, attempting CPR, though I had no idea what I was doing. I desperately pressed down against his chest until everything started to hurt again.

I eventually stopped, pulling back, sitting on my knees next to Ponyboy's ever-motionless body. My vision started to blur so I leaned against the hard stone fountain, water occasionally pouring over the edge and wetting my curly hair. I tried unsuccessfully to steady my breath, closing my eyes tightly and hoping I'd soon wake up in the lot, knowing Pony was at home and safe.

To this day, that hasn't happened.

It was in that moment where all my injuries caught up to me- almost every part of me stung and smarted. From whatever I could see, I couldn't see any of it clearly. I tried to think- what time was it? Could I go to the police station? Would they ever believe me? What if they thought this was my fault? But I couldn't just wait, because maybe it wasn't too late for Ponyboy- but it sure would be if I just sat there.

Standing up so suddenly only worsened my nausea, but I had to go, I had to go before I ran out of time. So I looked around and mentally mapped out the place- I wasn't on this side of our neighborhood all that much, but the station was close. In one direction, there were more trees, leading back home. I had to go the other way. 

There was some forestry around, but big, brick buildings lined the street. The park was in the middle of it all. I just had to run to the brick buildings, to the corner of the street, where the police station would be. I glanced back at Ponyboy, gently turning him onto his side just in case he woke up. I figured if there was water in his lungs, it'd be harder to cough up while on his back, which he would eventually do because he's still alive. He must be, right? 

But I knew I was wrong to think that as soon as I took off into the night.

It was almost pitch-black, the freezing winter night cold and still. The only thing I could hear were my own hurried footsteps as they echoed down the streets. I had to hope nobody woke up to look out of their window, because they'd see Pony lying there alone and I feel like it could scare them badly.

Finally stumbling into the building, I was relieved to see that the place was open. I wasn't good at reading clocks, but the one above the receptionist's desk said it was around three-thirty in the morning. The woman sitting at the desk must've seen how panicked I looked, because her smile dropped as I hurried over.

"Tulsa Police Department, how can I help you?" She asked in a soft, steady voice.

"Some-something happened...um, me and-and my buddy, we were at the-the park and then a bunch of Soc- guys, a bunch of guys, they were drunk, they came down and they jumped us, talking about how we were tryna get with their girls, and they..." I couldn't finish my sentence at the moment, and held onto the table so I wouldn't fall over, because my legs were shaking so much I could hardly stand. "I think they drowned him, I-I really need someone to help him." Hearing my voice break made me cringe a bit, because I didn't like the idea of crying in front of someone, especially an adult. Just another reason to treat me like a little kid. I know I look like I could be Pony's age, I know that, but it still bugs me. 

"Alright, just calm down. The park down the street?" I nodded, and she began to dial in some numbers on her telephone, then paged a police unit and ambulance over to the park. 

"The police are on their way. Would you like to ride down with them?" I nodded again, more hesitant this time, and soon enough an officer led me outside and into a police car. I could see an ambulance behind us as we sped down the road. I sat there, silently shaking the whole time. I was very tired, or maybe just very dizzy, but I couldn't tell which. I hoped they'd get to the park soon, because I really thought I was going to be sick. 

I got out and used the car door to support myself, the paramedics already coming out. There were four policemen. A man in a white uniform was crouched over Ponyboy, hand on his neck, while another stood over him and wrote something down. A woman came out of the ambulance, quietly leading me over to a bench and putting a blanket over my shoulders. I hadn't realized how cold I was until then, with my hair all wet. There was a rip in my jacket, which upset me because I knew my parents wouldn't want to get me another one. 

"What's your name?" I stared at the ground, taking the plastic cup of water I was offered. I knew she'd asked me something, but I just couldn't get any words out. All I could do was look at the grass as it swayed in the wind, pavement illuminated by the moonlight. Until I eventually whispered, "Johnny. Johnny Cade." 

"Great job. Who's your friend?"

I swallowed hard. I already knew I turned white at the question, but mustered a few words out. "Ponyboy Curtis."

"Alright, thank you, Johnny." She was writing my answers down on some kind of sheet. "Would you like us to take you home?"

I stayed quiet, but my face started to feel hot when she asked me. 

"We could call your parents to pick you up-?"

"No. Please don't." She gave me a strange look, but didn't ask anything else.

A police officer came and talked to me, but I wasn't too focused on what he said. The department called Darry, and they also called my folks. Only Darry answered the phone.

"We're gonna drive you down to the hospital, okay kid?"

I didn't say anything, but I got up and followed the paramedic who I saw standing by Ponyboy moments earlier. I once again wondered what time it was as they sat me down. I could hear people talking the whole way there, but nobody asked me anything. I was trying to stay present in case they did, but I was so disoriented I nearly forgot where I was a few times. That was until I was led inside the hospital, behind the stretcher that Ponyboy was on, because just then everything felt horribly real and the actuality of the situation sunk in. I realized I'd have to tell the gang- would I see Darry cry tonight? Would Sodapop's enthusiasm and hopefulness ever come back? How would Dallas, the only one of us who really seemed unbreakable, react? I thought of how Two-Bit's eyes would darken, how he wouldn't be able to crack a joke. Would Steve be there to comfort Soda, or would it be too much for either of them? Would it make the gang closer, or would we get distant?

Worst of all, would anybody blame me the way I blame myself?