One Step At A Time

Summary: When he was only two, a car accident took his leg, and his mother. Now, Ponyboy must learn to deal with life at fourteen with only one leg. With the help six brothers and dad, he's just going to have to take it one step at a time. (Mr. Curtis is alive!)

~ October 31, 1954 ~

Ponyboy waddled into the kitchen, his short legs moving as fast as they could with the motivation of candy. He was dressed clad in an itchy lion costume, fake fur that matches the color of his hair surrounded his chubby cheeks. Under it all he was beginning to sweat, but the young boy didn't seem to mind for he was all smiles.

Sodapop rushed outside, just behind his younger brother, dresses up in a Mickey Mouse getup, his ear headband sliding back and forth against his ears as he ran, tangling his thick blond hair. Mrs. Curtis smiled as she rested two year old Ponyboy on her hip, her pace matching her middle child's quick, energetic one.

"Slow down, Soda, the candy will still be there," she chastised gently, a smile etched onto her face.

Lastly stood Darry, calmly striding next to his father. The eight year old was dressed up as his favorite football player, Bob St. Clair, a maroon number 79 spray painted onto the back of his jersey.

Dim street lights lit the Curtis' way, not a single light on outside of any of the East-Sids houses. To find a house to trick or treat at, the five had to venture out into the subdivisions of the upper middle class neighborhoods. No one on the East Side could afford to give out candy to the neighborhood children, so on the family went.

The Socs' white picket fences were perfectly straight, not an ounce of chipping paint on them as they surrounded large, looming brick houses. Mr. Curtis was suddenly highly aware of the grease stain on the corner of his shirt, a large hole in his jeans at the knee. With a sigh he continued walking, biting back his pride. As he gazed upon his children, he sent up a silent prayer that by time they were old enough to understand, things would change.

All it took to change that next moment was a drunk high school student who was too soused to pay attention to the mother in front of him, who held her youngest son in her hand. By the time that he realized what was happening, it was far too late.

Suddenly, the sound of squeezing tires and the smell of burning rubber overwhelmed Mr. Curtis' senses before he could even react. He heard a sickening crunch following by his wife's unmistakable scream, and the image of his wife and son under a white corvette was permanently etched into his mind.

~ Mid-August, 1966 ~

Ponyboy kicked a rock with his one good leg, listening to the clocks it made as it made its journey into the highway. After three light clicks the sound was overpowered by a rumbling engine, a sound not made by any of the barely-running cars that belonged on the greaser's side of town. Ponyboy glanced quickly over his shoulder, his heart dropping as he laid eyes on a souped up black mustang full of Socs. It's engine growled threateningly, inching along at Ponyboy's pace slowly and menacing, looking like some kind of demon the way it was painted all black. Ponyboy quickened up his pace, but the young boy was no match for a sports car.

The car cut off Ponyboy's escape route effortlessly, and before the auburn haired boy could blink, he was surrounded by five brooding high schoolers. They had to be juniors and seniors at least, and Ponyboy instantly recognized them as football players he had seen at the last game he has snuck into.

"Whatchya doin' here, greaser?" The tallest one, a black haired guy named James, slurred.

"Hey, guys, I don't want any trouble here." Ponyboy tried to reason, his eyes jumping around in search of a weapon or an escape route.

He found neither.

"Yeah? Is that right, greaser?" Another one of them asked emotionlessly. He then got close enough to Ponyboy's face that the teenager could smell the cigarette smoke and beer on the older male's breath.

"Well guess what? You're kind is nothing but trouble. We're going to teach you a lesson. Get him, Andrew."

Ponyboy was on the ground in a second, his head banging against the concrete painfully. He hissed, kicking his legs and arms as wildly as he could, screaming for help. He felt a hand clamp over his mouth, muffling his cries. He bit down and the owner of the now bleeding hand punched him in the face, cussing angrily.

"Stupid greaser. Nothing but a piece of trash. He needs to be taught a lesson."

"Two-Bit! Darry! Sodapop!"

"Shut your stupid mouth, for Pete's sake!"

A huge blow landed suddenly into Ponyboy's temple, instantly turning his world into nothing but black, fuzzy spots. He blinked quickly in an attempt to restore his vision.

"Get lost, trash!" A new voice suddenly demanded, a dangerous tone lacing his husky voice.

"Come on, beat it, Socs!" A familiar voice threatened as the five suddenly took off running. Ponyboy knew the voice, but through his dizziness he failed to place it until the owner's face appeared in his field of vision.

"You okay, kid?" Two-Bit asked, offering a hand to help Ponyboy up. The younger boy effortlessly pulled himself up, straightening his prosthetic as much as he could through his jeans.

"I think so," Ponyboy answered, taking a mental inventory. "Yeah. Just a little dizzy."

Dally clasped him on the back. "You're tough. You're alright."

Ponyboy grinned. "Tough enough to take you on?"

"Only in your dreams, kid," Dally replied.

"The two of us were just headin' over to your place when we heard you hollering," Two-Bit explained. "Were you heading home?"

"Yeah. I was over at the movie house when," Ponyboy held his hands up, referring to the jumping, before he picked up his jacket and dusted it off. The three started walking towards the Curtis house, but Ponyboy trailed behind a few steps, his missing leg hurting worse than any of his other injuries.

A/N: This was written in two hours, a product of me laying in my bed listening to Imagine Dragon and Panic! At The Disco, trying to make something that would get me back into the habit of writing every day. This will be continued. I hope that you guys enjoyed!

Stay Gold,

~ Alee XxX