Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s been a little while since Dally and Johnny had died. I still find myself thinking of Johnny still being alive, here, with me. Maybe he’d be in the lot, hiding away from his less than ideal family, sitting there, maybe even waiting for me. But I know it’s just my head—messing with me like it’s funny.

It’s not just the delusions either, I can see them too. I know that makes me sound clinically insane, but it’s true. I see Dally whenever I look over at the street lights at night, I see Johnny whenever I pass the lot, whenever I pass the park I can see him—killing bob all over again. It’s like the world wants me to suffer, my brain hates me, and I hate it just as much.

I wish I could talk to someone about this, but I cant. Every time I look at anyone in the gang—Steve, or Two-bit, even Soda or Darry, they all look like they’ve passed the point of grieving. Like nothing had ever happened a month ago—like Johnny and Dally are just fine, happy and alive, no worries at all. Just jokes and banter, no one thinks about them anymore—well, it doesn’t look like they do anyway.

I feel like i’ve just sunk deeper and deeper into this never ending abyss of grief. Why cant I get over it like everyone else has? Why cant I move on too? Why cant I ever do anything right?

Whats wrong with me?

Since I haven’t been able to find it in me to open up to anyone, I’ve really just spent more time studying, writing, reading… I would say I sleep more, but that’d be dishonest of me. To be honest, I’m pretty sure i’ve been sleeping less. Every time I finally fall asleep, I get nightmares of the day Darry slapped me, when I ran away, took Johnny with me—got jumped at the park, Johnny killed a Soc, we fled. Things went south, Johnny died, then Dally got himself killed. I always wake up in a panic, sweating dripping down my back, my forehead wet, eyes blurry with tears that have already been dripping down.

I don’t know what Im supposed to do.

But I think I’ll just hold it in a little while longer.

——————

I woke up this morning to find I was nearly late for school, and Soda still sprawled out next to me in bed. I think he’s also going to be late too.

“Shoot…”

I nudged Soda awake before hurriedly getting ready myself. I don’t need an angry Darry on my ass for being late to school… I wish it were the weekend right about now. Because then, then I could lay in bed all day. Rot away doing nothing but stare at the ceiling, in my own head, thinking… thinking about the things that keep me up at night. The things I’ll seemingly never be able to get over.

I ended up getting yelled at Darry anyway when I left the bathroom after getting dressed.

“Are you serious Ponyboy? Late? AGAIN?”

“Sorry.”

“All you ever do is say sorry. Sorry doesn’t change anything—“

“I know! just quit nagging… I’ll walk to school.”

I left without saying another word. I knew he’d lecture me about “not using my head”, because it ain’t all that safe to walk to school if you’re a Greaser—hell, it ain’t safe to be a Greaser at all.

But I’ll deal with the consequences if it means I wont have to deal with Darry being pissy with me the whole car ride to school.

I had made it a few blocks away from home before I was, inevitably, stopped in my tracks. I was sure I was going to get jumped right then and there, but turns out, it was just Two-bit in his dumb, busted up car that looks like its really just running on hopes and dreams rather than gas. I was surprised really. He never wakes up this early… or maybe it wasn’t that early in the morning as I thought it was… I sure have been forgetting things a lot recently. But maybe that’s because of how little i’m spending time outside of my head, it really feels like i’m stuck up in my brain all the time, i’m not too sure why, but it is what it is.

Two-bit drove up next to me, talking loud enough for the whole damn world to hear.

“AYE, Pony! Just what are you doing walking all by your lonesome? That’s quite dangerous you know lil fella… hasn’t Darry—“

I cut him off before he could go on about Darry any more, “He has. I just don’t want to deal with him today.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause…”

“‘Cause what?”

“Just because I don’t, Two-bit! Okay?? Leave me alone.”

Two-bit huffed and pouted like a child. God does he really… grind my gears.

“How about I drive you to school then? I just ain’t want ya to get hurt kid…”

I reluctantly thought about it… I mean, I’d probably get there faster by a car rather than walking all the way there… and he’s offering, turning Two-bit down would be a little mean.

So I nodded and got in his shabby little car.

——————

The whole day was a blur really. But thats how it’s been recently. School starts, then it ends. I have little to no recollection of what happens in between then… but apparently I have math homework to do today. Which sucks. But I guess I’ll just have to deal with it.

I walked home from school, I do a lot. It has given me time to just think.

So I walked. Kicked rocks around, dragged my feet, walked at my own pace, taking my time.

Surprisingly, I didn’t get jumped. I’m quite glad I didn’t. It would’ve ruined my already bad day… not like I remember much of it, but I still feel crappy anyway. I feel crappy everyday if I’m gonna be honest.

As of recently, I’ve been feeling worse, worse than usual. crappier, bitter mood… and, suppose I kinda want to die. I’ve never gone that far as to think that before, but since ever since last month—losing both Johnny and Dally, it sparked something deep in me…

Something I’m certain is bad.

I just cant help but think—wish, and want… that I had died that day instead. Instead of Johnny dying and Dally following suit, I’d die… I’d be the only one to die. Dally only died because his vision was blurred by grief. He couldn’t see the point in living when the person he cared the most about up and died. But I’m sure if I had been the one to die in place of Johnny, no one would go killing themselves because of me.

No one loves me that much to do something so drastic.

I know there’s people who love me. I’m not that stupid. But maybe deep down I feel empty. Empty of love that just can’t be filled…

It’s dumb. I know. It’s rather ungrateful really. Darry should’ve just sent me to a boys home.

Everyone would be better off if I was gone.

Chapter Text

Tonight, I was restless again. It’s not abnormal or anything, I’ve been having difficulty sleeping ever since they died, but… I don’t know. It felt different this time. I wasn’t thinking of them all that much this time around, I was… thinking more of myself, my wants, my need to, well, die.

I know that makes me sound ill, messed up in the head. But I cant help but think about it… dying, i mean. Sure I’ve thought of wishing that I died in place of Johnny… but that feels different from this… I want to die just to die. It’s wrong. I shouldn’t feel this way—I mean, my life isn’t even all that bad!

I have two brothers who care about me, Darry practically works till he crashes to make ends meet, Soda and him gave up school to care for me after Mom and Dad passed… It’s unfair of me to want to die. If anything, I should be wanting to live and my brothers, especially Darry, should be feeling this way…

I really am ungrateful, aren’t I? Everyone would be better off if I died. Everyone loved Johnny, he was the glue that held the gang together—I’m nothing compared to that… hell, Dally even died for Johnny. Nobody would do that for me if I died. If only I could rewind and go back in time to fix everything—change things for the better. Make a world where everyone is happy and healthy. A world where I was gone and dead.

For now. I’ll just sleep, and maybe the feeling with fade?

——————

I woke up on time today, and it looks like Soda did too, since he wasn’t next to me. I could hear him in the kitchen with Darry too.

So I got up and got dressed for school…

I still cant help but think about it.

Dying had never seemed so appealing to me until now—I feel like I understand Johnny… when he said he wanted to kill himself that night in the lot.

I want to kill myself too.

But I better not focus on that now, I still have to go to school… unfortunately. I went out into the living room and saw Darry waiting for me.

“Time to go kiddo, come on, before you’re late again.”

“Yea, yea… I’m going..”

I put my shoes on and walked to the car, Darry was behind me, his keys clacking as he walked. I never realized how loud it was until right now…

The drive felt kinda long… maybe it’s because I’m still annoyed at Darry for yesterday. I hate all the nagging, the arguments, the way we cant agree on anything… it’s annoying. All of it.

——————

When Darry dropped me off at school, I got a horrible feeling of dread… god do I hate school.

I mean sure no one ever really likes school (except for Two-bit, but he’s always an exception to the norms, isn’t he?) but today, I feel like I hate it more than usual… oh well.

I tried to focus more today, I wanted to feel at least a little bit in control of my life. Trying to focus so life doesn’t fly by me, like I’m just going through the motions but not really living it.

I was able to focus the most during English class… but thats no surprise, since English isn’t a subject I hate all that much. I used to really love it, but recently i’ve really just been losing interest in everything. I still read and write sometimes though, just to keep busy.

I was doing well with staying focused and being in the moment rather than in my own head—until Math came around, things started to blur… I’m pretty sure thats when I started to stop focusing again. I hope that doesn’t happen again today, I have track after school. It’s just practice though… so I’m sure even if i start zoning out, nothing bad could happen…

So right after the last bell rung, signaling everyone to start heading home, I went to the boys PE locker room to get changed into my Track uniform.

——————

Track practice was pretty easy… all we did was time our running and stuff. But thats what practice is, isn’t it?

I was able to run 400m around the track faster than I did last time, which is good, considering how I smoke cancer sticks like a fiend. Honestly, I think I’ve been smoking more somehow.

Anyway, after Track practice, I sat down on the grass and waited for Curly.

I know, shocker… Curly Shepherd and me? Almost hard to imagine. But I’ve been hanging with Curly more often since Johnny ain’t ‘round no more. It’s been going well for the most part, we don’t have all that much in common, but hanging with him is still nice.

I would hangout with the gang like usual but… I just feel like a tag-a-long kid without Johnny there. It’s awkward. I don’t feel like i fit in (not like I fit in much with Curly either, but at least he’s closer to my age.) and I just feel like they all hate me. So it’s better to just fill the loneliness with someone else, right?

I felt like i was waiting for ages, till I heard snarky laughter and felt ruffling of my hair, I knew that was Curly.

“Hey baby Curtis! haha, you look awful!”

“Oh yeah? Really…”

I knew my hair was probably lousy looking considering I was just running a bunch, but he didn’t have to mention it the way that he did.

“Yea. Really!” Curly replied, even though he knew I was being sarcastic, he still confirmed what he said about my hair anyway.

I rolled my eyes, “Whatever Curly… gonna walk home together today?”

“Nah. I wanna hang! Do somethin’ fun for a change… you in?” he looked at me with a wicked grin, like he was plotting something illegal… which he probably was. I wouldn’t put it past him to do that. I mean, come on? He’s been in those juvenile detention centers more than I smoke in a month!

I hesitated to answer, considering what he would call “fun” … but ultimately, I agreed.

“Yea. Sure Curls. I’m in.”

Chapter Text

Curly was grinning from ear to ear as he heard my agreement to his stupid idea… god do I wanna smack that dumb smirk right off his face.

“Cool! lets go now then… I have a great plan.”

Curly took my wrist then started dragging me along with him while he walked somewhere… he definitely has a destination in mind, I just don’t know where it is.

He kept dragging me for god knows how long before speaking up again, “Don’t tell nobody about this, alright Pone?” I was confused, but nodded anyway… “Sure, won’t say a thing Curly.”

Curly shot me a grin before he pulled me along down some dark alleyway… it was suspicious, I didn’t entirely trust him, but I followed him despite that. (why do I do this?)

——————

The second we made it to the other side of the alley, it seemed it really was just a shortcut to some sketchy gas station—but I guess the east side is always sketchy lookin’ anyway.

Curly stopped right before we reached the end of the alleyway back into the now golden light of the setting sun. (made me think of Johnny… I really should get my shit together—)

There was some dude leaning up against the wall like the toughest thug the east has ever seen… I would say it was cool, but it really wasn’t. Even worse, he was smoking something that smelled very different from a cancer stick—which I might just say makes him even less cool. (way too try hard like.)

Curly started talking to him—which automatically made me assume it’s someone from the Shepherd’s Gang.

“Aye, you got it right?” Curly asked, he even held out his hand, expecting the other guy’s answer to be “yes”

And it really was.

“Fuck yeah I have it—whatcha think I’m smokin’ buddy?”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Just give it to me already—gimme two.” Curly sounded as sarcastic and sassy as ever. He even rolled his eyes like those loud Greaser girls.

I watched as Curly took two.. joints? from that strange guy. Curly then turned to me with such a sly look he could compete against a damn fox.

“Don’t just stare, Pone.. take it.”

Curly held out a joint to me. I was hesitant to take it, but Curly really was my only friend now. I suppose I do have the gang—but they aren’t exactly my friends. They’re Soda and Darry’s friends, they just hangout with me because I’m their kid brother. Plus, I don’t think Two-bit even likes me, and I know for a fact Steve hated my guts. But it’s fine. I hate him too.

“Hello? Earth to Ponyboy?” Curly still held it to me—although he’s slightly waving it in my face now.

“Geez Curly… I’ll take it okay?” I took the joint from his hands—still kinda hesitant about smokin’ something like this… but if it means Curly will still like me I guess a bit of weed wont hurt all that much.

I tried it; lightning the joint and breathing in, I ended up coughing a lot—smoking weed is harder than it looks…

“Gee Pone, don’t cough up a lung now—“ I could see it on his dumb face. He was holding in cackles, finding this very funny at my expense. Even in my coughing fit, I smacked him on the shoulder, “Knock it off—cough—Curly… this ain’t fucking funny.”

“Okay, okay… i’ll back off.” Curly was still smiling like it was far too funny to not laugh. Whatever.

Curly started up on his own joint, and we kinda just did that for a few hours—smoking, and laughing hysterically. It was weird. There wasn’t really anything to laugh about, but we laughed anyway.

I felt happy though.

Maybe thats what being high is all about.

Feeling happy despite everything.

I know it’s artificial. I wasn’t really happy. It was the weed and all the weird chemicals it shoved into me.

But I still felt better than before, so… maybe I ought to get more?

More high, more weed.

More happiness.

——————

Eventually I did go home. It was around 6 pm then. Curly didn’t walk me all the way there, since none of the gang likes any of the Shepherd kids—especially Curly.

I opened the gate to my front door, walking up to the porch, I could see the lights on—which means the gang is absolutely here. I hope no one notices I smell like weed… if they do, I’ll just have to lie. Lie real good.

But I am pretty good at lying.

Lying is like second nature to me, so I shouldn’t worry… probably.

As I entered the house, I saw Two-bit, Soda, and Steve all gathered around the coffee table playing an unnecessarily intense match of cards. I didn’t see Darry though. He was probably in the kitchen like usual…

And I didn’t see Johnny or Dally either—oh, right. Because they aren’t even here anymore.

The three saw me enter and waved, saying a quick “Hi” before refocusing on their game.

“Hey! That was unfair!” Two-bit was whining up a storm as he lost

Steve grumbled a little, muttering something—“Cheater…”

Meanwhile Soda was beaming all triumphantly, rejoicing in his victory.

All I could do is roll my eyes—then leave for me and Soda’s room, shutting and locking the door behind me.

——————

I hate to admit I liked smoking that joint.

It made me feel something I thought was long gone. Something I was sure was stripped away from me, to never return.

But it came back—I was happy, or it felt like I was anyway.

The world wad all hazy, I felt giggly despite nothing even happening. It felt like I was floating through cloud 9–like life really worth living just a second longer.

But of course, it was just temporary—I know, I knew. But God… it was addicting. I wanted to keep smoking—keep inhaling it in just to keep that feeling for just a moment more.

But I’ll never forgive myself if i went down the path of drugs—Darry would hate me if he found out, Soda would be disappointed—Everyone would hate me more than they already do and could.

I cant do that.

As much as I hate living, I don’t want to be hated.

I hate myself enough as it is.

I couldn’t ever turn to drugs—never ever…

Which is why I’d rather just smoke more… or, maybe, try something new?

Rummaging through the pockets of my jacket, I found my switchblade—Two-bit had stolen it for me for “safety” reasons. As after Bob’s murder, Soc’s were attacking Greasers left and right, more than before.

I guess they were angry.

I would be too.

Having a dear friend taken away from you in such a manner would send anyone into a rage.

As I grasped the switch in my hand, I felt a surge of… relief. Despite nothing even happening doing anything yet.

The switchblade was cold, and even colder when I applied it to my wrist with a pressure that could crack an egg into pieces.

I wasn’t sure if I should—or could go deeper…

But I wasn’t opposed to it. As if on autopilot, my hand just pressed deeper—the sharp edge of the blade painted red, with my blood.

It spilt out of my arm, beading up where blade met skin. Blood ran down in thick lines from my arm down into a small—growing, puddle under my wrist.

That felt good.

Really,

Good.

I could go deeper next time, maybe it’ll make me happier.