Bad Reputation||Brooklyn Winston

Chapter 15

I ran to Dallas' body. I was sobbing as I sat on the ground next to him. I watched him, hoping that I was wrong. That he wasn't dead. And that was when I noticed him breathing. He was barely breathing, but he was still breathing.

"He's still alive!" I shouted to no one in particular.

The gang rushed over.

"He's still alive." I told them. I had my hands on his stomach, covering the bullet hole. I was trying to stop him from bleeding out. "He's still alive! Someone do something!"

"I'm going to call 911." Someone said.

Darry took off his shirt and handed it to me. I used it to cover Dallas' bullet hole. "Stay with me." I whispered. "Don't leave me alone."

The ambulance came ten minutes later. They put Dallas on a stretcher and loaded him into the car. I followed in Buck's T-Bird.

When we got to the hospital, they took Dallas into the emergency room.

I waited in the chairs for what felt like hours before the gang showed up.

"How is he?" Ponyboy asked as he sat down, putting an arm around me.

I shrugged. "They haven't told me anything. I don't know for sure, but that doesn't seem like a good thing."

"They're probably still in surgery." Darry said. "It's not easy to get a bullet out, and they have to find a way to stop the bleeding."

I didn't say anything.

"I don't really think that's what she wants to hear right now, Darry." Ponyboy said.

Darry nodded. "Right. Sorry."

Two-Bit sat down on the other side of me. "We brought you food." He said as he handed me a burger.

I took the burger gratefully and bit into it. "I don't know what I'm going to do if he dies." I said quietly.

Everyone looked at each other before Darry said, "We'll figure something out. We won't let you go into foster care."

I smiled. "Thanks. But what I meant is that as far as I'm concerned, him and I are the last Winstons. And I don't want to be the only Winston left. Not yet. I'm not ready. I need him."

No one knew what to say to that. I didn't blame them. I didn't want to hear that it would be ok when there was a possibility that it wouldn't be ok. The gang spent a few hours trying to cheer me up before the doctor walked into the waiting room. It was the same doctor Dallas had been arguing with the day before.

I frowned to myself. Had that really been yesterday? It felt like ages ago.

"You're all here for Dallas Winston?" The doctor asked.

Everyone nodded.

"We just finished the surgery. We think he'll be fine. We removed the bullet and stopped the bleeding. He got here just in time."

"Can I see him?" I asked.

The doctor shook his head. "He won't come around for awhile. Why don't you all go home? It's late and there's no use waiting around here." I must have looked unsure, because he said, "There's nothing you can do here. Go home."

I sighed, but agreed. As we all walked out to the parking lot, Darry said, "Ponyboy, why don't you stay with Brooklyn tonight? I don't want her being alone."

"I'm not going to do anything Dallas would do." I said. I didn't argue, though. Company would be nice.

When Ponyboy and I got home, there was a party going on downstairs. Neither of us got out of the car. I'm pretty sure both of us were remembering the last party we went to.

I sighed. "Well, we can't stay out here all night."

We got out of the car and walked into the house. The first thing we heard was Buck yelling my name.

I walked right up to him and slapped the keys into his hand, making sure the sharp part dug in. "Here's the stupid keys to your stupid car." I told him. Then I grabbed four bottles of beer from the bar and went the stairs, stepping over two at a time.

When we were in the bedroom, I walked over to the dresser and used the edge to open the beer bottles, just how I had seen Dallas do it a million times.

"Are you ok?" Ponyboy asked.

I looked at him, remembering for the first time that Johnny had died. "Are you?" I asked before I took a sip of my beer.

He nodded. "I'll be alright."

"Good. Because I'm not." I allowed myself to cry. I hadn't cried for years, especially not in front of someone. I told myself that yesterday didn't count.

Ponyboy hugged me. We just stood there, hugging for a long time.

"At least he's going to be ok."

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. He's going to do it again and I have a feeling that he'll succeed next time."

"Maybe he won't try again. He was just upset about Johnny. When he wakes up in that hospital, he'll realize that he did a stupid thing."

I shook my head again. "No. It goes beyond stupid. He knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to die because Johnny was the only thing he cared about and Johnny died."

"He cares about you too."

I shrugged, taking another sip of my beer. "Drink." I demanded. "I got two of those for you."

"I'm not drinking, Brooklyn. Why don't we just go to sleep?"

I was too tired to argue. So I laid down and fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

When I woke up the next morning, Ponyboy was staring at the tv. But the tv was turned off.

I put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you ok?"

He jerked away and jumped up.

"What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? Johnny's dead and it's your fault!"

"My fault?" I cried, standing up. "It's not my fault! How can you even say that?"

"How is it not your fault, Brooklyn? If you hadn't threatened Bob, him and his friends wouldn't have come after us."

"They were drunk! They were looking for a fight! It wouldn't have matter whether I threatened Bob or not. Besides, it's your fault for making Johnny chase you into that burning church."

"The church that your brother sent us to."

I took a step toward Ponyboy. "It is not my brother's fault." I said quietly. "He was trying to help. You went to him for help, and he helped you. He could have gotten in huge trouble. And now he's in the hospital because Johnny is dead. This isn't his fault. I could lose my brother, the only person I have left. How can you blame this on him?"

We were both quiet for a really long time after that.

At last, Ponyboy said, "Brooklyn, I'm sorry. I don't... I don't know why I said that. Something is wrong with me."

I nodded. "You've been acting strange since you got back. Why don't you go home? Get some sleep. You look like you didn't sleep at all last night."

Ponyboy kissed me on the way out. I sat down on the bed with my head in my hands and cried for the fifth time in three days. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?