Syringe

"He's just a kid!" Dark figures danced across the horizon of the streets, taking the silhouettes of officers with guns down. No gunfire. The only sound that was heard was the thud of bodies pounding against the floor. I straightened my back and started to breathe normally again. I ran my fingers across my chest. No wounds. My gun was light. 

"Johnny..." I whispered before I hit the floor. 

When I came to, I was laying on hard, splintering wood. I didn't open my eyes for a couple seconds, and I took in the fumes of bacon. Bacon? I sat up. I was lying on the Curtis's floor, my torso bandaged, my blood stained jeans folded on the floor by the television, my wrists bordered with blood. I stood up and dragged myself into the kitchen. 

"Hey, Dal," Two-Bit was sittin' on the counter, drinking a beer. He had a black eye the size of a Soc's fist, and a gash on his jawline. Ponyboy was shifting bacon back and forth in the pan, the stove steaming, the sink running. 

"Hey, Dally," Ponyboy said. His voice was quieter than usual with a sickly sound to it. 

"What's going on? Why am I here?" I asked, taking a seat. 

"You don't remember? After Johnny-"

"Ponyboy, don't tell him anything right now. He's still in shock. Want a beer, Dal?" Two-Bit asked. 

"No, I wanna know what happened."

"Ponyboy, don't tell him," Two-Bit said. 

"He deserves to know," Ponyboy said. 

I laid my cheek against the table as Two-Bit handed me my unwanted beer. 

"Hey, Pony! Hey Two! Hey, Dal!" Sodapop walked in with his boxers riding on his hips and a bare chest. 

"Soda, what happened last night?" I asked. His eyes became wide after he snagged a piece of bacon from Pony's pan. 

"Uh, you don't know, Dal?"

"No."

"Do you think the fall hurt his head?"

"No, I just think he's in shock," Two-Bit said. 

"Oh. Um, I'll tell you later." I sized him up. 

"You're not going to work today?" I asked Soda.

"What? No, no."

"Why?"

"Look, Dal, come here," Two-Bit led me into the living room and sat me down. He handed me his beer. 

"You'll need this," he said. 

"You know how Johnny was hurt pretty badly in the fire?" Two-Bit asked. 

"Yeah."

"Well, Johnny couldn't survive after what happened to him. He died last night, Dal. And you robbed a store, and the cops were going to kill you, but Soda and Steve and Darry and I... we took the cops down before they could hurt you."

"Johnny's dead...?" I asked. I was surprised at how small my voice sounded. 

"Yeah, Dal, he's gone," I stood up. I dug the rear of my palm into my eye and tugged at my hair. 

Johnny's dead, Johnny's dead, Johnny's dead, Johnny's gone, Johnny left. Johnny's dead. Johnny's......

I slammed the back of my hand against the television and swiped it clean off the table and onto the floor. 

"Dally!" Two-Bit screamed. I slammed my fists into the couch and eventually burrowed my fingernails in the cushions of the couch, tearing it open.I hit my hands against the floor, over and over. My fists slammed against the floor as I screamed, "Johnny's dead, Johnny's dead, Johnny's dead!" I pounded my head against the floor and laid there until Soda came running in. 

"Dally, what the hell?!"