Sorry

4.9K 77 51
                                    

Pony:

37 hours after Pony died you were found 45 miles outside of town. You were walking down an abandoned street without shoes on in the snow. You were near the point of hypothermia. But you refused to stop walking. Because if you stopped walking then it would be real. Pony would be dead and you'd have nothing else left. You'd really be all alone in the world. The police had been the first ones to find you and since you weren't really doing anything illegal they were forced to leave you alone. God you hated that word. ALONE. You didn't want to be alone and now you were. The police contacted Soda and he'd driven out to the road where you just kept walking. You had to keep going. You had to keep the world out because as you were learning the world was a terrible fucking place. Soda followed beside you in his car and tried to get you into his car but you couldn't. Getting in the car meant no more Pony. And no more Pony meant being alone. All Alone. A-L-O-N-E. alonealonealonealonealone.

Something you weren't ready for.

Dally:

The first thing you did was punch Pony. You thought you'd take some satisfaction in breaking his nose. It was his and Johnny's fault that Dallas was gone. He wouldn't have provoked the police if Johnny hadn't have died. Johnny wouldn't have died if Pony hadn't insisted they go into that church and save those stupid brats. In your brain that all made sense. But apparently it didn't make sense to anyone else. Because after you broke Pony's nose Darry had thrown you out and Two hadn't followed you to make sure you were okay. No one seemed to care that your boyfriend had just commited suicide by cop. No all that mattered was perfect fucking Ponyboy and his feelings. Not you or what you were feeling. You were angry. So god damn angry. How could Dallas leave you like that? Without a good bye. It was so fucked up. He couldn't even say good bye to you. Didn't he love you enough to at least give you a good bye?

As it would turn out Dallas had left you a good bye. He left a message at your house for you. But you'd never hear it. After that night you never came home. The gang- or what was left of it- never saw you again. Whether you were dead or run off. No one would ever really know. You just disappeared into the night.

Darry:

You'd never imagined your wedding would take place in a hospital chaple. But than again you never imagined that Darry would get cancer. You never imagined that it would be terminal and that Darry would be gone before you. He was the strong one. He was supposed to be superman. The invincible one. But you guessed life was funny like that. So you found yourself saying your vows to Darry, while he sat in a wheelchair-now too weak to stand on his own. You'd cried a lot since the diagnosis but this was the first time they'd been happy tears. After the ceremony the staff of the hospital had been kind enough to let you two spend the night together without interruption.

It  had been a beautiful night. Almost fairy tale like. In the morning when you woke up Darry's arms were still around you but he was too still. He slipped off holding you to his chest and all you could thing was at least he wasn't in pain anymore.

Soda:

He had to be a hero. He just had to. Soda couldn't just let the guy take whatever he wanted from the DX. It was in Soda's nature to try and stop the man from taking all the cash out of the register. You wanted to be mad at Soda. You wanted to scream at him for being so stupid but you couldn't find it in yourself to. You didn't feel much of anything anymore. It was like when that robber fired the gun and took your Soda away he also took all your emotions away too. Nothing else seemed to matter. Not eating, not sleeping, not even the tiny life trying feebly to grow in your stomach. You didn't even want the baby anymore. You knew should have felt guilty for not wanting the baby but you  were just so drained.  Without Soda there was nothing. You'd give the baby away when it was born and spend the rest of your life trying to get over Soda. You knew you never would but it was all you could do. All you could hope to do.

Steve:

Steve had died several thousand miles away from you. Trapped in Vietnam and that god forsaken war he hadn't wanted to fight. But the fucking draft took your new  husband from you a week after you'd said I do. And what did they give you in return? A medal and a folded up flag. Everyone kept saying that it was an honor for him to have a purpled heart. And deep down inside you knew they were right. But that didn't mean you wanted it. You'd trade that medal in a heart beat if it would bring Steve back. You'd give back the medal, his gravestone at Arlington, everything if it meant you even got one more minute with him. To tell him you loved him one more time. To get to hold him for even just a second more. You'd trade away your soul if that was what was being offered. But it wasn't being offered. You were being given a purple heart, a folded flag, and a twenty one gun salute.

Johnny:

You'd always known Johnny was sad. Depressed as the doctors would say. But you'd never thought it was this bad. You'd even thought he was starting to get better. He was smiling more and more all the time. But as it would turn out he wasn't getting better, just getting the strength to pull the trigger. He apologized to you in the note he left behind. All you could think though was that it was you who should be apologizing. You should've seen the signs. Should've recognized that things weren't right. Maybe then you could've helped him. You could've made a difference. But now all you were left with were could haves and should haves. His parents didn't seem to care much but you did. Your parents paid for his funeral, hoping it would help you heal. But it didn't. Somehow saying good bye to a wooden box wasn't good enough. You wanted the real Johnny. The alive one who would've just given you a smile and said save your good byes for someone else because I'm not going anywhere. Only, apparently, Johnny hadn't meant that. But you couldn't be mad at him. You just had to hope that you would see him soon enough.

Two-Bit:

You shouldn't have been out that late at night. You knew it was practically asking to get jumped. But Two had been with you. He'd always protected you before and so why would tonight be any different. How wrong you'd been. The gang of socs  had come out of no where and there had been too many of them. They'd been going after you and Two had pulled out his switch. You could recall every single second of the knife fight that had ensued. Two had held his own but one of them had gotten lucky. You could still remember how warm the blood had been as you tried to stop the bleeding from his wound. You could remember the taste of salt on your lips as you cried. Even how still Two had been when you'd kissed him, hoping that it would be enough to keep him alive. You remembered everything. It was like a movie inside your head. One that replayed now as you walked into that Soc's house with a loaded gun and nothing but revenge on your mind. You let out a quiet laugh as you opened the door. Two would appreciate your humor. You were still laughing as you pulled the trigger.

A/N: Sorry. I'm having a bad day and needed to get some of the sadness out.

The Outsiders PreferencesWhere stories live. Discover now