CW: Gun violence, mild angst, loooong chapter, just bear with me here I promise I listened to y'all
Still unable to get my mind off of Johnny and how pitiful he looked, I desperately try to think of something to distract myself. I'd try to go to the rumble, in Johnny's honor, but they had me on lockdown for running out earlier to go see the mangled boy. I can't crochet, so the needles designated for the job sitting in the corner won't help me none. I already read through all of the magazines in here. All of them. Twice. And I'm not really a guy who's into that kinda pastime anyways. Maybe I could-
Tap! Tap!
Where's that sound coming from?
It's light.
I look over at the window.
Tap! Tap!
Surely enough, the tapping was on the window.
I carefully get out of my hospital bed and tiptoe over to the window, opening it swiftly, and I'm met with a familiar rough face. "You ready to go to the rumble?" The one and only Dallas Winston says, smirking up at me evilly. I grin back and hop out the window, following him to his car. "How'd you break out?" I ask, clicking my seatbelt. "Good behavior," he says sarcastically, not even bothering with his belt.
I grin. "So we're just gonna show and kick some soc ass?" I ask, trying to hide the excitement in my voice. He looks over at me and grins. "Like that, but more badass." Sitting in the passenger seat of Dallas Winston's car is quite an experience, I'll tell you that. He doesn't look at the road and drives like a drunkard, swerving and running lights as if he's ranking up points for doing so. However, he also likes to talk, I've come to find out. We weren't ever really close, not like him and Johnny, but we had eachother's backs since the moment I stepped foot in the Curtis house about two months back.
Now I see him in a new light. He kept rambling on about Johnny, talkin' about all the times they've had. Then he told me his side of the story from the time Johnny got jumped. Man, I'd have hated to be in Dally's shoes. I've come to realize that Dallas isn't this hardened, unfeeling douchebag I originally respected him as. He felt just as much as I did, or even as much as Pony did (and that's saying something). He was just more... selective about when he let people see those feelings. It was clear to me that Johnny was like his little brother, his best friend, his reason to go on living the life he'd been burdened as a filthy hood from New York.
"You're all stupid, every one of ya," he sighed. My gaze up at him softened as he parked the car in the lot next to the place we were gonna fight. That was is way of saying he cared, as masked as it may be, and I understood that. I noticed him glancing down at my bandaged hands. "Alright kid, let's see the damage." Raising my hands toward him, he takes them and swiftly unbandages them. The skin is pink and discolored, overall not pretty and kinda itchy, but I played off like they felt fine. For the first time I'd ever seen him, Dally looked into my eyes genuinely. "You sure yer up to fight, kiddo?"
I nod. "O'course. And I don't know why you call me and Johnny 'kid'. You're barely older than us," I snicker to lighten the mood. He smirks. "Barely is still older, man." The time has come for us to get out of the car, so I put my hand on the handle and open it, sending tingles through my arm. I shake it off and join Dally with the rest of the gang, as well as Tim Shepard's boys. I glance over at Pony who'd been chatting with Curly, and he looks a little shocked to see me. I wave slightly, and the appearance of my unbandaged hand just increases the severity of the shock on his face. I just shrug.
Dally and the head soc hash it out verbally for a moment before the first punch is thrown. Much like the shot heard around the world, nobody knows who threw that first punch, and it became even hazier after that. The rain started guzzling down by the bucketfuls, and socs and greasers were clawing at whoever they could get from the opposite side. I was no different, immediately charging towards a large boy and clashing with him in an instant. He managed a hit when I ran over, blacking my eye, and I pushed him back with immense force. Apparently not enough force to knock him over, though, but merely stun him. He came charging back at me, and I used this to my advantage.
I skirted to the side and pulled a punch as he ran to where I would have been, sending him tumbling down. His friend was on me in a matter of seconds. Running at me, he grabbed my shoulders, but I broke free. I pushed him back, causing him to trip over his friend and land on top of him, groaning. The rest of the fight was a blur, but in the end, we had won. We beat those damn socs, and that's all that mattered. We did it for Johnny.
Johnny.
I ran up to Dally when I found him through the haze of rain and mud. "I know. I'm going too, don't worry," He said, seeming to know what I was thinking before I could even vocalize it. Pony ran along with us, and I still got shotgun because I was older. I rubbed that in his face, much to his dismay. Then, about halfway to the hospital, Pony nervously piped up, "Guys, the fuzz is on our tail." Dally's eyes widened and he turned back in his seat, quickly whipping back to the front and pulling over. "Shit. You two, play dead. You were in a motorbike accident, got it?" Quickly nodding, I slouchy down in my seat and make a miserable face, Pony taking the liberty to lay down completely across the backseat to make it seem like he was hurt bad.
A single bead of sweat dropping down his face, Dally rolled down the window as the cop walked up. "You better have a damn good explanation for this, Winston," He says authoritatively. He musters up the saddest puppy dog face he can, almost making me crack, and responds, "The boys. They're hurt. They were dicking around on their new motorbike without supervision and...well..." I make an effort to groan every now and then, or hitch my breath and wince as if in pain. I think Pony's opting for the play dead option. There's a shift in the cop's eyes. "...they gonna be alright?" Dally looks down gravely. "Only the doctors can say, but....well, just take a look at Ponyboy in the back." The cop makes a quick glance back and sighs. "I'll escort y'all over."
When we get there, Dally carries Ponyboy and the police officer "helps" me in. I could only hope that Dally paid me after the performance of my life, I'll tell you that. Afterwards, the cop left and asked to hear about our condition later, and like a snake, Dally said that of course he'd update him. We immediately went back to see Johnny, Dally entering the room first. A grin, a wholly wholesome grin fell upon the older boy's face as he saw Johnny. Walking over gently, he bent down to Johnny, who was not in great condition. "We did it. We won." Dally's tone was gentle, fatherly. I was in absolute awe of how he was acting. A whole new respect had bloomed in such a short amount of time. It was then that I realized that he'd been an older brother to me as well.
Maybe not to the same extent as Johnny, but enough to make me feel like I'd had someone. He was the first vaguely parental figure in my life since I'd been emancipated, constantly worrying about me and protecting me the way he did Johnny and Pony. We were a small little family in ourselves. My ears suddenly perked up when Johnny responded, "It's useless..." My head tilts and walk over, crouching beside Dally. "What do you mean, Cicada?" I ask, using the same gentle tone that Dally did. "It's useless... we're still greasers and they're still socs. At the end of the day, it's useless." His voice is strained and breaking as he speaks, which concerns the three of us.
Beep
Beep
Beeeeeeeeeeep!
His heart rate machine was flatlining. This sent Dally into a mania, punching the wall and storming out. Pony followed after and a commotion ensued, but I stayed behind with Johnny, my mouth and eyes wide open. "J-Johnny?" No movement. "Oh, god...Cicada...." I whisper to myself. I lean over, putting my forehead on the side of his bed as I started to softly let the tears run down my cheeks.
-eeeeeeeeeep
Beep
Beep
Beep
My head shoots up and I look at the heart monitor. "H-he just coded for a minute...he could still be okay!" I run out into the hall and call for a doctor, explaining what just happened. A whole team rushes in and wheels him away, a place where I can't see him. I need to break the news.
I run, as fast as my legs will take me, as fast as my body will go. I throw open the door at the Curtis house, nearly ripping the door off the hinges. Everyone looks at me. "Kid, we already know, he's-" "Johnny's not dead!" I cut Darry off, making the eyes of everyone in the house go wide. Pony looks at me, a guilty, fearful look. "We...need to find Dally," he chokes out. The puzzle pieces click in that instance. "Shit!"
I take to running again, this time the whole house of people following me. We make it to an empty lot and stumble upon the most terrifying scene we could've ever thought possible. Dally, surrounded, cops all brandishing weapons aimed at him. "Don't shoot, he's just a kid!" Darry yells, but it's too late. They all fired, and I sprinted into the line of fire, the boys behind me protesting as they realize what I'm doing.
I kneel down in front of the gasping, dying boy and grab his hand. "Dal... Johnny's not dead. He revived shortly after you left." Dallas, writhing in pain, looks up at me the best he can. His expression of sheer agony changes to one of mild content. "T-tell that idiot... I'm...proud of him..." He chokes, biting back the blood coming up his throat the best he can. Then, he draws his final breath. His face, though, does not look like that of a dead man. It's warm, almost happy. What I told him may not have saved his life physically, but it saved his soul, I can tell. I'm glad I could at least give him that much as thanks.
I hadn't even realized how hard I'd been crying and how tightly I'd been holding onto him until Steve and Soda pried me away from him. I was covered in the same crimson substance that coated Dallas, and the thought bothered me. "I...I need...need a shower," I whisper mumble, still in shock from what just happened. Steve helped me up from the ground and Soda softly said, "You can stay with us for the night, little buddy." Nothing is said in return, I simply nod as they lead me back to my house.
Thanking them for letting me stay beforehand, I head to the bathroom and turn the water hot. My mind is plagued the entire time with how Johnny will react to knowing that his big brother, his lifeline, the only person who loved him is dead. No. Not the only person. At this exact moment, it had finally struck a cord with me. I was in love with a boy named Johnny Cade. As absurd as the thought was, I had seen a lot crazier tonight, so the thought didn't disturb me as much as it should've.
With this new realization, I turn of the faucet and step out of the shower. There's a neatly placed pile of clothes where my old, bloodied ones has been. Someone must've switched them out while I was lost in my head. I sigh and put them on. They clearly weren't mine. A white T-shirt, a bit big for me, and a baggy pair of sweats. They were so big, actually, that I had to pull the string and tie it just so they'd fit. I step out of the bathroom feeling slightly refreshed, the towel draped over my shoulder as I walk over and sit on the couch next to Steve.
"Clothes fit okay?" Darry asked, still with his usual cold bite, but slightly softer than usual. I nod. "Well enough to do me tonight," I offer a slight grin. "Them was some of my old clothes, it's all we had on short notice," he says apologetically. I nod and stay quiet. Eventually, everyone parted ways, whether it was to their own rooms or their own houses. That left me on the couch. I didn't mind, though. Well, until around midnight when the phone started ringing.
I jolted up, groaning. Stalking up to the phone tiredly, I pick it up, and the other boys come crawling out of their rooms. "Who is it?" Pony whispered. As I listened intently to the person on the other end, my eyes widened. Without another word, I sprinted out of the house. I've found that I've been doing that a lot lately. Then, bursting through the doors of the hospital, not even caring about how the sensation of the handle on my hands tingled immensely, I scurry up to th front desk. "Johnny Cade," I quickly say before the receptionist can utter a word. She looks at me strangely before telling me to follow a nurse who'd show me the way to his new room.
I was antsy as I followed her, fidgeting with the strings of the sweatpants anxiously. "Here we are," the mousy nurse said, opening the door then leaving. I step inside and notice that he's on a normal hospital bed now. Sauntering over, I gaze at him now patched up at the chest. "Cicada," I whisper. I grab his hand, causing him to shift a bit. Squeezing his hand slightly, a smile to see he's alive. This finally wakes him up, and he looks up at me gently. I, bearing the knowledge that I do, cannot return the same gaze and look away slightly. "Johnny. I've got two things to say."
His gentle gaze turns to one of confusion and curiosity. "What is it? You can tell me anything, man." His voice is still hoarse, but not nearly as dry and dehydrated as before. "I...both are hard to tell you. I'll just...good or....downright terrible news first?" His deep dark eyes now hold mild concern. "Bad," he says. I bit my lip, figuring out the best way to say this. "Dally, he's...well, he...he thought you died and..." I start to choke on my own tears, and it seems like Johnny got the memo because his eyes were filling with water as well. Tears began to fall from his cheeks, and I crouch to his level to wipe them away. Through my own tears, I offer a smile and say, "In his final moments, he told me to say he was proud of you...idiot."
Johnny cries harder, but chuckles slightly at this. Of course Dally was gonna playfully insult him in his dying breath. "And..." I manage, wiping his tears and some of my own, "I've realized... I'm in love with you, Johnny Cade." The look on his face is complex, and that scares me. "I just- you don't need to say anything, but know that I care about you and I'll always be here for you, Cicada." Suddenly he engulfs me in a hug and sobs into my shoulder. I was taken aback, but quickly accepted it and patted his bandaged back gently. It seems like forever when he finally pulls back and manages a soft, "I dig you too, (Y/N)..." I smile at him and caress his face. He winces slightly, but then nuzzles his face further into my hand as I use my other to wipe his tears away.
Even in this hurt, crying, hospitalized state he's gorgeous. "I...I know you can't rely on me like you did Dally, but-" he cut me off, pulling me into a kiss, reminding me of that night at the drive-in when we were all together and happy. I began crying again, but reciprocated immediately. When we pulled apart, I put my forehead against his.
"We'll be alright, Cicada."