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You were hanging out at the Curtis house, as per usual. Every day after work, you stopped by to see your boyfriend, Steve Randle. He stayed at the house in his free time, along with the other boys, and you of course. Today was different, though. Steve, the whole reason you were there, wasn't. Neither you or any of the boys knew where he was. Sodapop had told you Steve told him that he was going to stop by the diner and grab a milkshake with his extra dollar he earned, and walk home. The problem: it took only ten minutes to get the milkshake and walk home. Steve had been gone for over an hour now.
"Sodapop?" You nudged his leg. You were sitting next to him and Ponyboy on the couch, watching the television. "Yeah?" He glanced at you and looked back to the television. "You think Steve's alright?" "He knows how to handle his own," Sodapop put a hand on your knee and reassured you. "Yeah he's probably ran into some broad," Dallas leaned forward, "too busy with her to leave." He chuckled. Two-Bit smacked the side of his head. Dallas pulled out his switch blade and pointed it a Two-Bit jokingly. "Knock it off," Darrel yelled from the kitchen. Sodapop jumped in as well, "Steve wouldn't do nothin' like that. He loves her more than his damn car." "Impossible," Ponyboy added. Sodapop raised his eyebrows and shook his head. Many moments passed, the sky had became darker than usual, you laid against the arm of the couch, tired. The gang had seemed to not care in the slightest, but you were worried sick. Steve always came to the Curtis house after his shift at the DX. Even if he was getting a milkshake, it wouldn't have taken this long. You thought about the possibilities. Maybe someone needed help with their car at the diner and he did them a favor? No. Maybe he forgot and went home instead? He wouldn't. Maybe Dallas was right and he was with someone he picked up on the street? Possibly... A noise at the front door interrupted your thoughts. Your head turned in less than a second, in hopes your assumptions were wrong. And there he was. Steve had stumbled into the door, barely making it inside the house. Everyone's heads were turned and they were up on their feet in a matter of seconds. You were frozen in your seat, shocked at the sight of Steve. He groaned as he moved his hand, covered in blood, to his head, which also seemed to be covered in blood. Darrel lifted him gentle as he could, and placed him in the recliner where Dallas had been sitting but a moment ago. "Ponyboy," Darry's voice was urgent, "get the alcohol and a towel or two." He took a look at Steve, "Hey kid, how many fingers am I holding up?" Steve groaned in pain. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Steve's face was all beat up; two red eyes, a busted lip and a nose bleed. He had what seemed to be a deep cut that started mid-bicep and ended just above his elbow. You watched as Darry attempted to clean his wounds with the alcohol. It was obvious Steve was in pain- he was holding back a scream and holding his stomach. "Y/n, come take his shirt off so I can clean this," Darry instructed. You did what he told you, taking off the blood-stained shirt. His ribs were a deep red and purple color. Badly bruised. "Oh my," You whispered under your breath. You had never seen anyone so hurt before. So badly bruised and bloody and broken. Soda had taken the filthy shirt from you. You held Steve's hand as Darry cleaned his cuts with the alcohol. He squeezed so hard that your hand was turning cold. "Steve." He let go and gripped the arm of the recliner instead- something that wasn't sensitive. Steve couldn't take the pain anymore, couldn't continue to hold back his screams, it hurt him so badly. You couldn't bare to watch, so Soda took you to his bedroom and sat with you on the edge of the bed. "What do you think happened?" You asked in a low, pained voice. "Damn Soc's. That's what," Soda said roughly. Steve seemed to have quieted down after only a minute. You and Soda went back into the living room where you saw Dallas handing Steve a bottle of Vodka. He took a swig and quieted down. "Vodka. It always works man," Dally smirked. You smacked his arm. "It's not funny." But he ignored you and laughed. You stood against the wall and watched. Finally, Darry was done cleaning and bandaging Steve up. He stayed in the recliner with his eyes closed. Two-Bit and Dally took off, so it was only you, the Curtis' and Steve. Pony was in his bedroom, as was Darry. You were sat on the couch alongside Soda. He rested his head on the back of the couch and dozed off. You stayed awake and watched Steve closely. "Y/n?" Steve's voice was groggy and rough. "Yeah?" You slid over to his side. "It was those damn Soc's man," his voice broke. "I figured," you mumbled. "Y/n?" "Yes Steve?" "I'm gonna get 'em back." He took your hand and held it gently. His knuckles were bloody- he had to have put up a good fight. "The boys will get 'em before morning." "I know," Steve fell asleep, still holding your hand.
