Chapter Text
Pony ran. He was good at it, there was a reason he was on the track team. He ran, and he ran, and he ran. He didn’t know where he was going, his body was just moving.
Darry had hit him. He had actually hit him. It wasn’t even the worst fight that they’ve had, and Darry had slapped him right across the face. He could feel a bruise start to form. His older brother had always had a hell of a punch. He hadn’t realized when he started crying, but the tears were steadily flowing down his face.
Eventually, he reached Johnny’s lot. He had been there not even twenty minutes ago. That was the whole reason he was in trouble, because he hadn’t used his head and had fallen asleep in the lot.
Maybe Johnny was still here and Pony could talk to him. Maybe Johnny could tell him everything would be okay, that Darry didn’t mean it and they would go back home together. Or maybe they could go somewhere else until both Darry and Pony could calm down. Darry was probably real sorry, Pony heard him yelling apologies when he ran out of the house.
It was quiet in the lot. It was real early and no one but Johnny would ever be out here this late. Except he wasn’t. Johnny wasn’t in the lot. He probably went to Two-Bit’s or Dally’s place when Pony had gone back home. He was glad Johnny was out of the cold, but now Pony was alone.
He was alone, cold, crying, and hurt. He didn’t have a jacket, he was too busy running away from home to bother. God, he should’ve stayed home. Darry hit him once and he was making a big damn deal about it. He rubbed the tears from his face and he kept walking.
But he couldn’t turn around and walk home, not yet. He needed to cool down before he went back and started another argument. Pony checked the lot over one more time before walking a little ways away to the nearby park. There was a jungle gym-like structure that he climbed, the cool metal biting into his skin as he went up.
He lit up a cancer stick and began smoking while his mind wandered. Darry always hollered at him, but he never yelled at Soda. Pony didn’t care if Darry yelled or argued with him, but taking his anger out on Soda was too far. Darry did kind of have a reason to yell at Pony, he hadn’t been using his head and had fallen asleep in the lot.
Darry said he was willing to call the cops to try to find him, even though that would get them in trouble with the state. He really hadn’t meant to cause any trouble, he just fell asleep. It seemed like no matter what he did it upset Darry somehow.
It didn’t use to be like that. Pony used to go to Darry for everything. Before their parents died, he would follow after Darry like a duckling. He would beg him to play with him or to go to the movies with him. Really anything to hang out with his older brother.
But Darry wasn’t his older brother anymore. Darry was his guardian, a stand-in parent. And it sucked. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair that Darry had to grow up so fast because their parents died. Darry deserved better. He deserved to go to college, to make a name for himself. He deserved way more than to have to look after a fourteen year old who only made his life harder.
Now Soda was his older brother. Now Pony always went to him for something. He went to him after his nightmares or when his fights with Darry got real bad. He was always in the middle. Just like tonight.
Pony made up his mind, he was gonna go back home and apologize to Darry and hope that was enough for all of them to forget that anything happened. He would try to fight less with Darry, if only for Soda’s sake. (And on the off chance that Darry decides to hit him again. Pony knows he won’t, that Darry isn’t that kind of person, but his mind likes to wander.)
As he gets off the jungle gym and puts out his cigarette, he hears the familiar sound of a car approaching.. The bright headlights slowly light up the park, making it obvious that whoever is in the car is looking for something, or someone.
As it comes closer, Pony feels a pit form in his stomach. It’s the same blue Mustang that Bob Sheldon had driven off earlier. If Bob was out this late and on the East side, Pony had no doubt he was looking for him. He was proved right as the headlights flashed over him before the car turned off.
Bob Sheldon, Randy Adderson, and three other Soc guys stepped out of the car one by one. He recognized them as the guys that had pulled a blade on him two days ago.
Pony has half a mind to run, he would be faster than any of these guys but as they close in on him, he knew he would never make it.
“Ain’t this the greasy trash that tried to pick up our girls, Randy?” Bob’s words were slurred with booze and anger. If there was one thing more dangerous than a Soc, it was a drunk and angry Soc.
“It is, Bob.” Randy nodded, his words still slurred but slightly less than Bob’s.
“Watch it, you’re out of your territory.” Pony grimaced as his voice shook. There was no way he was winning this fight. He didn’t have a blade or any kind of weapon on him and there were five Socs looking at him like he was fresh meat.
“No, buddy. You better watch it. You think you can try to pick up our girls? You think they’d ever want dirty scum like you?” Bob barked out a laugh that the rest of the Socs echoed. It reminded Pony of a pack of hyenas mocking their prey.
“Y’know what a Greaser is, David? Tulsa trash with broken shit and long, greasy hair.” Bob seemed to be the leader here, talking the most and not letting the others really get a word in. Maybe if Pony could get Bob down then the others would split and leave him alone.
“Y’know what a Soc is? Tulsa trash with daddy’s money and Mustangs.” Pony finished his sentence by spitting on Bob before kicking him in the shin. That seemed to start the fight because as Bob hit the floor, another Soc ran up behind Pony and grabbed his arms. It was a blur of kicking and thrashing as Pony was dragged towards the fountain in the middle of the park.
“Give him a bath, David.” Bob had walked over to the fountain as the Soc who was holding him, apparently named David, held him over it.
“Wait, no-” Pony was cut off as his head was dunked underwater. There was a thin layer of ice over the fountain that his head was slammed through to get to the water. The water was freezing cold and washed over him like a storm. He started thrashing desperately, trying to get out of the water. He was just pushed deeper down for his efforts, he could vaguely feel his head hit the bottom of the fountain. He didn't how long he was under there before he was pulled back up.
He spluttered and coughed, trying to catch his breath as the water dislodged from his ears. It still sounded like he was underwater, but he could hear the mocking laughs of the Socs. He tried to scream, but a hand was put over his mouth before he could make any noise and he was dunked back under.
He was prepared for it this time, inhaling through his nose right before his head went under. And then he bit down hard on the hand that was covering his mouth. Blood filled his mouth as the hand on his mouth retracted along with the one that was holding his head underneath the water.
Pony used all the strength that he could and pushed himself above the water. Four of the five Socs were still laughing, but the one that had been holding him was clutching his now bleeding hand. Pony smiled to himself as he spit out the blood and stood up. He almost fell over but quickly gained his balance. The Socs hadn't noticed him yet, too drunk to pay attention to their surroundings.
Pony looked around, trying to find anything that he could use to defend himself. In the moonlight, he could see the glint of a pop bottle on the ground a few feet away from him. He looked back at the Socs and decided to risk moving to grab the bottle.
“The little shit bit me!” David finally cried out but it was too late, he’d already gotten his hand wrapped around the glass. The other Socs turned to look at their bleeding friend before looking at Pony. He smashed the bottle against the fountain to create jagged edges that he could cut them with.
Bob moved first, lunging at Pony’s shaking form. He wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline or because he was shivering, maybe both. Bob grabbed his left shoulder but Pony brought up his right hand and slashed his arm with the glass. Blood started spilling out of the cut as he hissed and pulled away. Pony ducked down, using his small figure to his advantage and getting a cut on Bob’s shin, causing him to fall. Pony used the dull side of the bottle that had the cap to hit Bob in the head, knocking him out. Pony took a second to catch his breath when suddenly a Soc came up behind him and pulled him up by his hair. He threw his head back and knocked the guy hard in the nose, getting him to drop Pony.
He stayed on the floor and swept his leg underneath the Soc to get him down on the ground as well. It worked, the Soc hit the floor hard enough to knock him out. Pony stood up and turned to make eye contact with Randy. Randy looked down at Bob and then back up at Pony before turning on his heel and sprinting away. Well, that made it easier for him. Three down, two to go.
David was still up, his only injury being the hand that Pony had bitten and there was one more Soc that he didn’t know that was uninjured. But he couldn’t see him. David was in his line of sight, glaring at him before flickering over Pony’s shoulder, eyes wide.
He didn’t have time to react before the crack of shots echoed out. Pony turned around to look at the Soc, making eye contact with him as he held the gun out in front of him. It was still smoking from the bullets that had just been fired. Pony didn’t know what he was aiming for though, but he’d clearly missed.
“Shit. Shit, we gotta go! C’mon!” David yelled out to the other Soc before he got into the Mustang and drove away, leaving the Soc with the gun behind. He couldn’t tell why he ran, sure Pony had knocked out his friends, but he was still outnumbered. He didn’t know why David had looked so panicked when he ran.
Then he felt something drip down his arm. It wasn’t the water that had been steadily falling from his hair, it was thicker. It was blood. The Soc hadn’t missed. Pony looked back up at him, the Soc was staring at Pony like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.
There was blood trailing down his arm because there was a hole in his arm because he had been shot.
Well, there wasn’t a hole in his arm, the bullet had grazed against him, but there was still a chunk missing from his arm. But he didn’t feel it. He didn’t feel the pain from the bullet wound like how he didn’t feel the cold that he really should because he was just submerged underwater and it was freezing cold at night.
But he didn’t feel any of it.
That was probably really bad.
He needed to get home, he realized. Darry would know what to do. Darry could help him, would help him, no matter how angry he was. But which way was home? How far away was it? Maybe he could wait at the park and one of the gang would find him. Johnny would probably be there soon, it was his favorite hang out spot after all.
But what if he didn’t? If no one found him, he would bleed out. Pony was already having a hard time staying awake, whether that was from blood loss or from almost drowning, he wasn’t sure.
Pony didn’t know what to do. His head hurt real bad (at least he could feel something now) and he couldn’t remember how to get home and he was still shaking something awful. The adrenaline from the fight had been replaced with fear. Bone chilling fear. The Soc that had shot him was still just standing there. He was still holding the gun, but it wasn’t pointed at him, just hanging limply in his grip.
They just stared at each other, neither of them really knowing what to do. His eyes flickered from Pony's arm to his stomach, and then the Soc ran. He dropped the gun and ran, leaving Pony all alone. The static in his head got worse, had he hit his head when underwater? He couldn't remember. His stomach hurt too, he probably inhaled more water than he thought. Now that the pain was coming back, he could feel the open air sting the graze on his arm. And he could feel the pain in his stomach.
He looked down and finally noticed how his shirt had darkened. It wasn’t because of the water that had soaked his top half, it was from blood. There was a hole in his shirt that matched the hole in his stomach. Distantly he remembered that the Soc had shot twice.
He lifted his right hand to apply pressure to the wound, but that only worsened the pain. He truly didn’t know what to do. He wanted his brothers. He wanted Soda and Darry. He wanted to wake up and this was all a dream. Darry hadn't hit him, he hadn't almost drowned, he hadn't been shot. But he couldn't wake up. Because it wasn't a dream or a nightmare.
There was static overtaking his head and pain flooding every inch of his body and all he wanted was to rest. He just wanted the pain to go away. As his vision started blinking in and out, the pain faded once again. By the time his vision was fully gone, so was the pain.
And so was his pulse.