「look at the stars」 | Johnnyboy

E i g h t .

They all got to their feet, looking at her expectantly. "What's the news?" Curly inquired, blue eyes wide and ready for anything. The woman hesitated.

"She's stabilized for now, but we're not sure how long it'll last. She's endured major head trauma, and is no longer breathing on her own. We're doing everything we can, but it's undetermined how much progress she'll be able to make - if any." Major head trauma, it rung through his ears like a bell. She's no longer breathing on her own. It felt as though his heart plummeted. Had he done this? Would he have been able to prevent this whole situation, had he just called her and asked for her to come see him after she got off of school? "You can see her now, though I recommend only two people at a time." They nodded, letting Curly go by himself first.

He was out within a few moments. He motioned for Ponyboy to go, of which he reluctantly did. Sodapop was at his side, no doubt for support.

As his feet padded into the room, he felt his breath hitch instantly. There were so many tubes connected to her, he didn't know where they began and where they ended. They were everywhere; her mouth, her nose, even some along her chest and arms.

His legs felt wobbly as he made his way to her side, scooting a chair close to the bed before occupying it. Again, his brother was beside him - but he kept his distance. Ponyboy reached out, just about to connect their hands, before he changed his mind. He didn't deserve to hold her, to be there for her; not after he'd been thinking about breaking her heart just hours before. "I'm sorry." His tone was soft and shaky, like the rest of him, as he eyed her unconscious body. The guilt seemed to just newly settle into him. Her face was all bruised, scrapes and cuts scattering the parts of her that were visible. She didn't look like she'd be waking up anytime soon.

"Don't apologize, Pony, you're here. That's all that matters, right?" This came from Sodapop, who had little to no idea what was going on.

"No." The words were strangled, thick as they filled the air.

"Ye—"

"No." He repeated, stronger this time. "I should've been here earlier."

"You didn't know."

"Because I was..." His voice cracked and an incoherent sound escaped him, hands tangling together and falling to his lap. "Never mind." His brother was quiet, as was the room. The gasp of the breathing machine sounded every few seconds, reminding Ponyboy of just how bad off she really was. Nurses walked along the halls, in and out of rooms, but none of that seemed to phase him.

"I could've done something."

"No, you couldn't. These things happen all of the time." He was trying to reassure him, but it wasn't working.

"Yes I could have! I could've called her, I could've stopped them from going out."

"That wouldn't have really changed anything, Pony." He knew he was being rational and, logically, he knew it wasn't his fault. But somewhere in a large part of his being, it still felt like it was.

"I messed up, Soda."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you see?" He sighed, eyes closing and body hunching forward. "This is all my fault, I did this." His face was in his hands, body rocking back and forth wildly in the deep purple chair. Tears bridged his eyes, guilt filling his heart.

"What're you talking about, Pony? You've been doing everything you can — you did nothing wrong." Sodapop tried to soothe, touching his shoulder softly.

"I was thinking about Johnny!" He was nearly shouting, regardless of where they were or who would hear. He didn't care anymore. "I was thinking about him, and she was dying. I wasn't there for her when she needed me, and now she's..." He trailed off, tone calmer now. He couldn't think clearly, grief taking over him. What had he done?

"You don't know that she's dying, she could pull through any time now." Sodapop spoke up after a while, hand still on his shouder. He gave it a squeeze. "And you can't help who you love. Just because you were thinkin' about Johnny when this happened don't mean you're a bad person." Suddenly, Ponyboy met his brother's eyes with a new concern.

"You mean you don't care that I'm..."

"Gay?" The youngest of the two just nodded; no objections, no corrections, just a simple nod as tears blurred his vision once more. A few had already slithered down his cheeks, but he didn't bother swiping them away. "I don't care who you like, I care if you're happy. And if this girl, no matter what's happening to her now, didn't make you happy — then you had the right to think about ending it." This didn't ease his guilt, not in the slightest, but it did give him a better outlook on the situation. Maybe he had bad timing - but that didn't necessarily mean his feelings were wrong.

"Can I have a few minutes alone with her?" Perhaps it sounded silly with her being out cold, but he wanted to talk to her - explain, even if she wouldn't hear. His brother nodded, getting to his feet and exiting the room without protesting. He inhaled slowly, looking at her and preparing himself for the speech that was to come.

"I don't know what to say." He began, gnawing on his lip nervously. "I guess I'll start with I'm sorry... again... I guess I'm not good at these things." He let out a half-hearted laugh, eyes flickering to his feet now. "I've known I was in love with Johnny for about nine months." A breath abandoned his lungs, the weight of his words finally sinking in. "Never thought I'd say that aloud." He still wasn't looking at her - maybe if he was, he would have realized that she'd woken up. "There've been so many times I wanted to tell you... I didn't know how, or when. It always seemed like the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong... words. I love you, Ang, just — not like you love me." He felt like crying, yet again, but refused. He had to finish this.

"I just wanted to be normal. I didn't want to be into guys. But Johnny, he makes it so easy, y'know?" He paused. "I told him once, after my parents' funeral. I kept telling myself I didn't remember, but I did. I do." With a sigh, his eyes finally moved up to the bed. They instantly widened when he noticed that hers were open, staring at him. Her pink chapped lips were parted slightly, as if she were waiting to say something. He was silent, waiting and unsure of how much she'd heard.

"Whoever you are..." She started slowly. A slight case of amnesia, possibly. Her voice was raspy, probably due to a dry throat, and it looked like she was straining herself to get anything out. "You... deserve... happiness... If you... love someone..." She swallowed audiably. "Then... you should... be... with them..." The words were dragged out. She sounded more exhausted than he'd ever heard her, but her attention never left him. "Whatever happened... between us... I forgive you..." And those were the words that finally got to him, the words that finally sunk in. She forgave him.