Saving Pony

Now I'm Bleedin'

A/N: HEY YALL disregard everything i just said bc i randomly decided to write this chapter at 3 am. I was going through my old notes and i see the vision i had before i stopped writing so i'm trying my best. thank u all again for reading ily mwah
ps, i feel like i have focused a lot on the other characters in this fic so i'm gonna kinda start shifting the narrative mostly to pony so we can fully see the spiral. this is the calm before the storm, if you will.

Ponyboy sat on his unmade bed, his eyes were glazed over as he looked out the window. Rain was pelting against the glass, and the house was feeling particularly cold. Darry had carefully placed a blanket around his slouched shoulders a few hours ago, not saying anything but holding concern and pity in his eyes. Pony was sure tired of being pitied. Then again, that was hours ago. He hadn't moved an inch since then, the thought of even getting under his covers was too much.

His fever had spiked two days ago, but eventually with Darry's help, a pile of frozen pea bags, and wet wash cloths, it had gone down. Now he was left with an annoying sniffle and a pounding head. It was the kind of sickness that had you fighting to breathe as you laid down, resulting in restless sleep for the next week or so. He was sure he had single handedly used all the tissues in the house on his stubborn runny nose.

Ponyboy was tired. He was so, so tired. He was tired of being sick. He was tired of missing Johnny. He was tired of Kyle, and all his lackey. He was tired of being sad.

Remembering the night he passed out in the park, his head being held under the water— Johnny and the switchblade. Red. Red, red water.

Red hands.

Red on his shirt.

Red in his hair—

Ponyboy shook his head trying to rid the thought. The whole situation was a blur now, but he vividly remembers the stark contrast of the blood against his ghostly skin and the sun-bleached pavement. He remembers the way the pool of blood grew around him, stretching into the green grass of the city park until the lawn was contaminated with crimson too.

Every since that day, something had been weighing on his chest, like everything was so painful that it eventually morphed into nothingness.

Realistically, he knew there was nothing to dwell on. It was as Darry said, people die, and you have to continue your life without them. Things happen.

So why was he still moping around?

Soda, Dally, and Two were acting strange. He knew something was up. He saw the way their eyes crinkled in poorly disguised pity and sadness for the youngest Curtis brother. He saw the way Darry looked at him like he was a piece of glass, although nobody would fill him in on what was happening. The others thought he was a stupid kid but he heard the front door opening and closing at strange hours of the night, the gang coming in and whispering in quiet but furious voices. He was a lot more observant than any of them gave him credit for.

Pony ran a hand through his hair, feeling the shittiest he has in a long time, which was saying a lot considering.

He just wanted it all to stop— it was all too much.

There was a knock on his bedroom door, startling him from his thoughts. Pony whipped around, and muttered a shaky 'come in,' to whoever waited on the other side.

The door slowly opened revealing Darry, his tall frame stood in the gap of the door, light from the hallway flooding in. Pony squinted his eyes at the light, having been in the dark for a few hours now.

"Hey, little buddy," Darry slowly made his way in, balancing a plate of food in his hand and holding a glass of water in the other," I brought you some food and medicine. Keep taking these painkillers, they should help keep the fever away."

Ponyboy nodded, his eyes drifting to the food. The mere smell of it had him wanting to plug his nose, his stomach rejecting it violently. The past few weeks, eating had felt like a chore. Everything made him nauseated. He couldn't even smell the toast and soup without wanting to gag. He knew Darry wouldn't accept that, so he took the plate anyway, thanking the man.

Darry stayed to make sure Pony swallowed the medicine and began eating, even though Ponyboy had to force the food down his dry throat that burned from his flu.

"How do you feel?"

'Like shit.'

"Fine. Better." He said instead.

Darry nodded though he could tell he wasn't entirely convinced. Pony forced a smile that barely reached his eyes, his mouth crinkling, to exaggerate his point.

"Listen, I think you should stay out of school until next week. You can go Monday, but after—" He trailed off," I just don't feel real comfortable with you out there by your lonesome, Pony."

Pony knew that was coming, instead of arguing, which is usually his first instinct, he bit his tongue and looked away.

"Alrighty." He shrugged, there was hardly an ounce of him that could manage to care about something so mundane as school.

Darry's gaze lingered on the younger boy, his eyes scanning him.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

Pony nodded, looking back out the window. He didn't have it in him to lie verbally anymore. Everything was so exhausting lately.

"Yeah, I'm fine. You worry too much."

"You promise?"

"Dar'"

"Lordy, okay, sorry," He smiled softly, but it had a sadness to it," Let me know if you need anything."

Darry left Ponyboy's cold dark room, leaving him to his own spiraling thoughts.

Who knew i'd be back this soon HAHA i wanted to write something angsty and i was like yk what? they deserve a chapter. next one shit is gonna hit the fan so prepare urself