Chapter Text
This story starts 11 months after the events of Windrixville.
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It’s been a long time. Time flew by so fast, yet, I can’t help but recall how long and agonizing the nights were. I barely had time to comprehend it all. He was gone. He was gone. But somehow, by some miracle, here he was. Alive. I don’t know how, but I couldn’t be more grateful. Grateful that he could be here today; wheelchair-bound, sure, but alive nonetheless.
I wish Dallas would’ve waited. He should be here too, but he’s not. It would’ve happened one way or another, but it shouldn’t have been while Johnny was still here. He didn’t get to learn about the good in the world, and it hurts knowing that if he had just waited a little longer, he might’ve been able to see it. But he didn’t. And as horrible as it is, all we could do was mourn and move on. Johnny misses him. We all do, but it hit him the hardest; I completely understand why. We all act as guardians for Johnny, but Dallas was the one: the protector. Johnny was the closest to Dally out of everyone, and Dal didn’t think he had anyone else to live for after Johnny died. He wanted to be with Johnny again, but Johnny didn’t go anywhere. His death was for nothing. Again, It was only a matter of time before he ended up that way, but I can’t help but feel guilty. I shouldn’t have ran out of the house that night. We wouldn’t be where we are right now if I didn’t. Everyone tells me to stop blaming myself, but there’s some part of me that won’t let go of the idea.
And the worst part? I didn’t even get to tell him “I’m sorry.” Sorry for getting him involved in the murder. Sorry for not putting out whatever cigarette lit the church on fire. Sorry for running into the church to save those kids; although I don’t regret it so much. Sorry for taking Johnny with me when I ran. I’m sorry for everything. Dallas I’m so sor —
“Ponyboy? Are you okay?” The two had been sitting outside for a while, waiting for the sun to set. Ponyboy was too lost in thought to listen to what his friend had been saying, let alone notice that he’d started crying.
“Uhm— yeah, Johnny, I’m okay.” He hastily clarified, quickly wiping the few tears away. Maybe if he could convince Johnny, he could convince himself too.
But of course, he couldn’t convince anybody. He wasn’t okay, and in all honesty, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be the same again. It didn’t seem like anybody was. They all returned to their normal routines, but it never seemed like anyone was truly okay. That only added to Pony’s rapidly growing dread. ‘You hurt them all,’ a voice inside of him would say. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the lot or to run into those Socs who’d coincidentally been looking for trouble. It wasn’t his fault. Or maybe it was. He never knew what to think anymore.
“You sure don’t seem like it,” He looked away from Ponyboy with an unreadable expression.
“Johnny, you don’t…” He trailed off. It’s wrong to say that, isn’t it?
“I don’t what? Understand?”
“...”
“What makes you think I wouldn’t get you, Ponyboy?”
Pony couldn’t figure out why he thought this either. He knew Johnny would listen, and he knew Johnny had felt the same things he did. But Johnny was part of the trauma that Ponyboy had endured, in a way, so he didn’t know the true extent of Ponyboy’s issues.
“I know you get it, but you don’t get it , Johnnycakes. That doesn’t make a lot of sense, I know, but…”
“Well, can you help me try? I’m always here for you, you know that.”
He couldn’t bear to tell Johnny. It was his fault that Dally died, the same way he stabbed Bob and the same way Johnny wasn’t actually dead that night. Except, only one of those things was true, and that was originally a mantra he’d said to himself to cope because he could not handle losing someone else. Those eight months were rough.
He sighed, trying to get his words straight. “...Dallas. It’s about Dallas.”
“You’re missing him, ain’t ya?” Johnny looked at him with sympathy. “I am too…”
“No, well— I guess you could call it that…And I know you do, that’s why I didn’t want to bring it up…”
“It’s okay, Ponyboy. I mean it.”
Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hide what he felt for much longer, he decided to just tell it as it was. “You…you died Johnny. You were dead. ” He had to pause to think about his next words, meanwhile, Johnny seemed a bit startled by the rather deep statement.
“...Yeah…I was. But, you know that’s not true anymore, I mean, I’m here right now, Pone…”
“I know. I know, but…God, it’s just so…” In a last-ditch effort to contain any emotions he was about to spew, he left the thought unfinished.
After a moment, it clicked for Johnny. “You still blame yourself, don’t you?” Pony was caught off guard, but he didn’t have it in him to lie anymore.
“Yes… I’m sorry, Johnny.”
“What’s there to be sorry for? You know I don’t blame you, man. Your brothers don’t. Steve and Two-bit don’t. And… and I don’t think Dally would, either.”
As much as Ponyboy wanted to believe that, he couldn’t. It would always be his fault, no matter how many different reasons he was given as to how it wasn’t. It was driving him mad, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand it.
He wanted to run. Again. He figured if he left, everyone else would feel better. But then again, they’d probably start blaming themselves if he ran away for good, so what would be the right thing to do? He knew exactly what he wanted: to take Johnny and leave for Windrixville again, without being in hiding this time. He remembered the way Johnny lay in the hospital bed, pale as ever and hardly awake. He also remembered how Johnny had told him that Windrixville was the only time he’d ever left Tulsa, so why not try it again? And besides, they’d have a more pleasant experience this time anyway, wouldn’t they?
“Listen, man, I get what you mean. Nothing’s been the same since then, huh? Nothing’s been… normal.” Johnny didn’t like the word “normal” anymore. Before, he used to blend in, going unnoticed amongst his peers, but now everybody stared and whispered when they looked at him.
He didn’t want to stay in Tulsa either. Though, he told himself he’d find a way out when he was 18 or so, not now. He wasn’t expecting much of a response, nor was he expecting the proposal that Ponyboy was about to make.
“Johnny..?”
“Yeah?
“I think we should leave.”
“You mean, you want to go back inside? We can do that if you—”
“No, I mean I think we oughta leave town again.”
A bewildered look suddenly appeared on Johnny’s face, and for a moment, Ponyboy regretted saying at all.
“Leave town? To go where?”
“Anywhere but here. Maybe we could head for Windrixville again.” It was quiet for a second, and Ponyboy was prepared for Johnny to ask if he was off his rocker, but that wasn’t the case.
“I… I wouldn’t mind that, Ponyboy, but what about your brothers and the rest of the gang? And we’d need money and a place to stay.”
“We wouldn’t be gone forever, maybe between 2 weeks to a month. We could do a good bit of livin’ with that amount of time. As for money, I’ve got a small stash hidden in my closet, about $100 I think.”
“$100? Where’d you get that kind of money from?”
“Do you remember my summer job?”
At the end of Pony’s first year of high school, he’d decided to make himself more useful around the house. So, for that summer, he’d spent time working as a waiter at their local diner. He gave most of his earnings to help Darry and Soda pay the bills, but he kept small amounts of his paychecks in a wooden box for “emergencies.” This was one of those emergencies.
“You mean your waiter thing? I thought that money went towards y’all’s bills.”
“Most of it. I kept some for myself in case we ever needed it, or if there was something I really wanted. I wouldn’t mind cutting into it now.”
Truth be told, he’d been planning this for quite some time; specifically from when Johnny was in the hospital. He’d made a small promise to himself that he was going to take Johnny to see things when he got better. Maybe he’d ask Dally to come too; though, that ship had long since sailed. This trip was something he and Johnny both needed.
Johnny couldn’t hide the conflicted look on his face or the concern in his voice.
“I don’t know, man… How would we get there anyway? You can’t drive.”
“We could just hop on the train again, right?”
“I’m in a chair, Ponyboy.” He hadn’t thought about that.
“...Right.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
“It’s not your fault, Johnny. It’s mine.”
“Now, Ponyboy—”
“It’s my fault.”
Johnny wanted to argue, but it wouldn’t have been of any use. They could go back and forth all day and Ponyboy would still be blaming himself, so he decided to drop it for the time being. Deep down, Johnny felt guilty for Ponyboy blaming himself. The murder was nobody’s fault but the Socs; nobody was to blame for the escape to Jay Mountain, or the church fire, or anything that happened. He hated the way Pony would talk about himself, and how he’d get angry at himself for not doing something differently that night. It wasn’t fair, and he definitely didn’t deserve to bear the weight of the burden over something he had no control over.
The two fell silent for a brief moment. While one was contemplating ways he could get around, the other was rethinking the idea as a whole. It was stupid, he thought. He’d done so much planning but managed to forget what was probably the most crucial part of it. How could you be so naive?
“What if,” Johnny began out of the blue, “what if we found someone to take us?”
“And who’d be willing to drive us out into the countryside for something like this?”
Two-Bit. The guy who almost went to Texas to go look for Johnny and Ponyboy, and aside from being the comedic relief, also had a lot more street smarts. He’d make a great candidate for their jaunt. All they’d have to do was convince him, which would take more effort than they thought.
“You really think he’ll agree to this, Johnny? He’s probably gonna go off about how he doesn’t want to anger my brothers and that it’s too risky.”
“But what if he doesn’t?” As funny as that sounded, he did have a point.
Two-Bit would probably be their only shot at fulfilling this “dream trip,” so why not give it a chance? There wasn’t much to lose anyway, they’d either set out on their mini-venture or stay watching the sunsets in the Curtis backyard. Both of which were okay.
“Okay, I’m in if you are, Johnnycakes.”
“Yes, I am.”