~Cicada~ Johnny Cade x male reader

Doctors Blind Their Patients For Cash!

A/N: I am once again deliriously tired (since that's when my creativity flows apparently) and did not have the motivation to proofread, so please feel free to point out any of my shortcomings as a writer lmao :)

          A bright light near blinds me as my eyes flutter open to reveal that I'm in a hospital (HELP I almost wrote "in a popsicle" lmao). I quickly squint to keep some of the pesky pristine whiteness from blinding me completely. Nobody seems to be around, so I take this time to reflect on the events that led to my current situation. I remember the greaser boy, and the socs around him. I remember jumping in, chiding my past self for not adhering to Johnny's warning looks. I remember what could easily have been my last words, as I repeat them in my head. "Try me. I ain't afraid of hell." They sounded tuff in my adrenaline pumped mind, but looking back now, they are admittedly a bit cringy.

          I hear footsteps approaching the door, so I play dead and go back to the position I was in when I woke up. I hear the door creak open and chattering between three- no, four people. It doesn't take me too long to process the voices as Dallas, Johnny, Ponyboy, and Two-Bit. What Two-Bit was doing with this lot of troublemakers in the middle of the day is lost to me. Wait, I actually don't know what time is...I guess I just assumed it was the middle of the day because I almost fucking went blind when I opened my eyes. That must be how hospitals make their bank: they get'cha in here when yer hurt or sick, then when you wake up they make  everything in sight white to blind ya, makin' you need to spend more money to profile and fix that problem.

          The four boys approach the bed and, even though my eyes are closed, I can feel their gazes rest on me. After a moment of silence, Dallas pipes up in his signature New York accent, "(Y/N), you damned idiot. I can't even say I feel bad for ya because you pretty much asked to end up hospitalized or dead, you little shit." I heard someone smack the fiery boy, as their hand hit the leather of his jacket causing a slap to echo throughout the room. "You can't just say that, Dal," Johnny quietly scolded him. Dallas huffed and replied, "Of course I can, Johnnycake. I'm Dallas fucking Winston." He takes a break to seemingly take a drag on his cigarette, as the smell of smoke fills my nostrils. He continued, "Besides, it isn't like the little bitch can hear me anyways."

         After hearing him say that, I struggle to suppress a chuckle. They notice. Well, my cover is blown, might as well "wake up" I suppose. I open my eyes, once again squinting at the harsh bright light. I see the four guys with their mouths hanging open. Two-Bit then cracks a smile. "Hey, that was a good one, kid! Had me really believin' you was still out!" Ponyboy scoffed. "Exactly, Two-Bit, and that's why it wasn't a good one. If he was awake he should'a let us know. We done been worryin' about four days now!" Damn, what a power nap. I turn my torso towards Ponyboy and put my hands up in surrender. "Alright, kid, I get it. My bad I suppose." He frowns. "Yeah, your bad. And another thing, don't call me kid! I turn fourteen in a week and you know it."

        I laugh at his reaction. I then lay back in my nicely cushioned hospital bed. "So, why was I out for so long?" I ask nobody in particular. "Those socs roughed you up pretty good. Cracked the back of your head all up. Took'em a couple hours to piece that thick skull of yours back together," Dallas replies, trapping me in a headlock. I smack him on the elbow three times, signalling that I tap out. "Ey, don't call my skull thick," I say when I get some air again, "you might hurt 'er feelings!" Two-Bit lost it. I sense he may have had a bit of booze before he came to visit. "So how long do I have to stay in sick people jail?" I ask. Johnny says, "Well you still need to recover. You can either stay here, or you can go to Pony's house to rest up for a couple days." He then puffs his chest pridefully, "I volunteered to keep watch of ya until yer better!" His prideful demeanor then changes to a slightly more skittish one. "Considering it is my fault that you're hurt 'n all," he continued self-deprecatingly

         "Shut yer trap, Cade. You ain't the reason I'm hurt, I jumped in that fight after you tried to convince me not to. If it's anybody's fault, it's those socs for thinking it's alright to jump innocent greasers just for existing in their space." Johnny avoids eye contact. "Yeah, that's true....but I just stood there and watched them beat you to a pulp! I had a switchblade, I could'a protected you...and I'm sorry for not doin' it" I shake my head. "Johnny Cade, you ain't got nothin' to be sorry for. Now you listen here, if youd'a brought out yer blade they'd have had you arrested. Then we'd be talkin' to you through iron bars." Johnny sighs, deciding not to push it any further, but I can tell that he's not convinced. I look over at him sadly, then take a breath in to regain myself. "So, let's see about gettin' me outta this blinding factory, ya dig?"