Hello, My Name is Crazy.

Its 3 AM, I Must Be Lonely.

Ponyboy's POV

I few days have passed. I haven't spoken to the neighbour since that day. I've barely seen him at all. Sodapop likes his new job. He likes working on cars and talking to the city girls and hanging out with his coworker, Steve. He really likes that guy. Darry decided to try out an office job working as a lawyers assistant. The company agreed to pay his tuition to become a certified paralegal and other legal certificate programs that will help further his career with their company. Darry says even if he only works there for a year, it's good experience and credentials that he won't ever have to pay for. And the money isn't too bad. It's not high and it's not low. It's good enough to live comfortably he says. Soda is working to help us too, but he only gets paid just a little over minimum wage. He has previous experience working with cars and that's the only reason he's getting paid a bit more. Darry tries to make it by with what he makes so that Soda doesn't have to spend his money all on us, but its hard sometimes. I know Soda doesn't mind though. He loves us and he wants to help. Even when he does have his own money he still goes out and buys us our favourite meals for dinner or he slips some into Darry's wallet. Darry caught him once and got emotional. It was an awkward day. I wake up to the sound of cracks and blasts and who knows what the hell it is. Soda jolts up beside me and he grabs my arm.

"Is that gunshots? Ponyboy what the hell is going on out there..."

He looks pale and disputed and on edge and I run quickly to the window to look out into the dark street. It's pitch black if not for the lamps lining the block. Out in the road there's a couple of punks walking away in the distance making some noise. Someone is laying in the middle of the road covered in blood and unconscious. He has on the leather jacket. I throw on a pair of running shoes and bolt down the stairs despite Sodapop's protests. I jog outside and I fall down beside my neighbour and I start searching for the wound. I run my hands over his abs and feel around until I find the bullet hole and I press down hard on it to stop the bleeding. I press and he groans and his eyes slowly open halfway.

"Po-ony..? What you doin out here? You're a dumb kid... Should be in bed..."

"You got shot dumbass. What do I do? Tell me what to do! Can you walk?" 

He glares and with my help, I pull him to his feet. Hes wobbling and shaking and he throws up once, twice, three times on our way towards his house. I can see Soda in my bedroom window watching me help him. He looks less pale now that those punks are out of sight. They've left. Dallas is heavy and I'm not very strong, so once I get him inside his house, I lean him on the closest wall. Darling comes running and she's licks me and bites my pyjamas and she wags her tail happily. He groans when she kisses him and he tells her to sit pretty and leave daddy alone for a bit. She bites my pants and he tells me she doesn't go near anyone but me. She's scared of most people but she always comes to me. He mumbles about how she likes me a lot and I'm special. I go to his bathroom and his kitchen and I grab peroxide and bandages and a cloth and I come back. Hes nodding off a little so I force his jacket off of him and I pull his shirt off over his head. He stares at me tiredly and he tells me I have kissable lips, asks me if I have a girlfriend back in Toronto.

"No. I don't talk to a lot of people. Especially girls."

"Do you know what you're doing?"

"Im guessing as I go and hoping I'm not making it worse."

I pull the bullet out of him with some tweezers and I leave it on the floor and I dump peroxide on him and in the wound and he curses me for it. I wipe it off and do it again. One more time. And then I rub polysporn over it and I lay bandage over his side. I tape it down and I pat it over gently before I step back and look at my work. He seems tired and the bleeding died down so I stand up and hold out my hand.

"Let me help you to bed before I go. You're probably dizzy from the blood loss and I doubt falling down the stairs is how you'd like to end your night."

"What the hells a decent kid like you doing in a shit place like New York..."

"Getting by."

"Where're your parents?"

"They died in a car accident six months ago."

"Shit."

"I'd rather not talk about it. Watch your step."

I get him to the stairs with his arm slung over my shoulders and his other hand clutching his stomach in pain. He looks like he's about to be sick again. He makes it upstairs and points me to a second bathroom where he annihilates the toilet bowl with nonstop vomit for the next five minutes. He ends it all with a fit of dry heaving and watery eyes from lack of breath. He crawls the rest of the way to his room and into his bed. It's a bare empty house for the most part without much life. His room has a broken bed frame and an old mattress and two nightstands on either side of it. It has a small closet and a small dresser and surprisingly a laptop sits on a mismatched chair in the corner of the room charging. He looks at me once he's in bed and I throw his blanket on top of him.

"Thank you."

Darling comes running and jumps into bed with him and my cheeks flush red. I look down at him. This tough hood who has become my neighbour is completely vulnerable to me. And he's trusting me. It's probably because I'm young and weird and I look dorky but for whatever reason it makes me glad.

"Get some sleep. I'll come back in the morning and check on you. I'll bring pain killers. Goodnight Dally."

"Night Ponyboy. Be safe."