This is my first Outsiders fic, just something I've been writing over a long period of time that I wanted to share. Can be seen as a long drabble or simply a oneshot. Enjoy :)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Outsiders :)

(Ponyboy's POV)

Steve was asleep on the couch when I woke up. Needless to say I was having trouble sleeping, so I decided to get up earlier than usual. It's not uncommon to see either Steve or Two-Bit completely knocked out in our house, either nursing a hangover or just for the shelter that my family provided for those that don't want to be at their own home. Two-Bit preferred my household with his friends and welcoming smiles (and chocolate cake) even when he's acting like the idiot he is, and then there is Steve. Well we all know that he is not particularly wanted at home so he gives his father what he wants and leaves occasionally.

Two-Bit was attempting to place a bucket of cold water beneath Steve's hand that drooped off the couch and hovered above the floor; yeah, that old trick. I'd usually join in with the antics, but the last thing that I wanted was to be apart of, or watch another fight. I'd had enough of them, even playful paybacks scared me ever so slightly. Any kind of conflict made me flinch, that's why I was up so early. Nightmares yet again. I'd get over them soon, I knew it.

The thing is that nothing's been the same, I thought I was getting better and would move out of Soda's room by now, but since everything that's happened, thoughts plague my mind at night.

The first time I got jumped, the drowning, Bob's dead body, the fire, and worst of all it's the loss of my dearest friend. I can't believe that Johnny's light went out as early as it did. I just can't comprehend that he's - Well let's just say that the bullets that ripped through good ol' Dallas Winston aren't the only sound I hear when I close my eyes. Johnny's screams when the roof fell... They just haunt me.

The sound of Darry stirring broke me from my trance. I seem to do that a lot; zone out and exclude myself. I began into make breakfast for myself and made a few more eggs than needed for anyone else that wanted them, I never know which days Two-Bit will decide to eat or just drink the day away. He is old enough to get a job, or he probably should still be in education. But he likes to think he runs his own life with no rules, despite that it solely revolves around beer and Mickey Mouse.

Again, I managed to take myself away from my reality and am brought back by a hand resting on my shoulder and a deep voice saying something about a "good morning" and it being "early". Nonetheless, Darry helped himself to two of the eggs and sat down to eat it with me. Soda always got up late, raced around the house, grabbed a bite to eat and then spent the remainder of his morning before work trying to find his shoes. I am sure Darry and I would have had a nice, normal brotherly morning conversation had it not been for Steve waking up and shoving a laughing Two-Bit so hard that he fell over backwards. When Steve stood and sized his prankster friend up, I could sense the playful fight that would follow, as did Darry apparently. I still don't know if he saw my pained facial expression at the thought of conflict or he hated it as much as I did, but in his "my house, my rules" voice he ordered them to take it outside.

Darry and I had got on a lot better, keeping to our promise to Soda not to fight any longer. Obviously we had our fall outs (what family doesn't?) and he still seemed to know what was best for me ALL the time; but I let him have that most days. He wouldn't be able to control me forever and we all knew that, so for now, I let him be the eldest and try my best not to challenge him. We don't get Soda involved anymore either, we don't ask his opinion unless it is vitally needed and sometimes he feels he needs to get his point across.

The other night, for example, I was invited by Two-Bit and Steve (which surprised me cos Steve and I aren't the closest of people) to go to Buck's. Now this local Greaser bar wasn't only renown for the alcohol, women and gambling, but violence often occurred. That would have put me off if I didn't have two of the gang there with me. The only problem was that Darry said "no".

This was the first time I'd asked to go; I'd always been warned away from Buck's place by both my brothers and it wasn't as if I'd never drank before... I'd only been twice before that and they weren't pleased either time. First of all when I was practically dragged along with Curly Sheppard and some of his older brother Tim's gang; I didn't drink any more than one bottle but somehow I felt uncomfortable being around them when I had no one from our gang around. Even though most Greasers stick together, some do intimidate! Darry found me and picked me up that night after I called him from Buck's phone, he wasn't pleased I went but was apparently pleased at my judgment to leave.

And the second time... The last time that I went to Buck's, was after the death of that Soc, when Johnny and I ran terrified across the estate to the one person we'd knew would help and know what to do.

If we'd known what would have happened after, if we'd been aware of the fire and death and pain we would have never got him involved. If only we'd known not to find our friend at Buck's that night, them maybe Dallas Winston would still be alive, and no one would have ever heard of some church on Jay Mountain that caught fire in Windrixville.

But this time was different, I wanted to go! I would be with two people that may as well have been brothers, and I needed to get out of the house. As I said earlier, Soda sometimes made an input so after Darry had said no, my happy-go-lucky brother suggested that we all went. At first Darry didn't think it was too hot of an idea, but at the look on all of our faces he soon caved. I had needed to feel alive again, get some laughs back into my life and some good memories to at least cover up the awful ones.

At first it had been all good; we laughed and my brother dearest allowed me a beer or two whilst Two-Bit drank himself into a new kind of state. Then he and Soda managed to haul themselves over to the pool table despite their drunken haze and became very competitive over who was to have which cue before the game had even begun. Well, Darry, Steve and I thought it was very funny even if they only saw it as a "serious matter".

The night kind of dulled a bit then, the game of pool became of no interest to me and Darry started to talk to some of his work buddies and Buck at the bar. It was the awkward couple of minutes that it was just Steve and I, sat there slurping on our beers. I almost thanked a deity that a fight had broken out to stop the tension and that a familiar looking Greaser came barreling over to our table and smashed it with his weight as he fell. Luckily, Steve had pulled me out of the way and onto my feet before I could be flattened. I would have thanked him if he hadn't taken it too far... He always does with fights and arguments unless someone like Soda or Darry is there to calm him down. He obviously felt that the guy being thrown across the bar had deliberately meant to fall on him and and that it was personal. In his mind set of anger along with the alcohol, I can still see why.

He started shouting and yelling, telling the guy that he owed him at least three beers, whilst the other Greaser stood up and dusted the glass from the bottles off of his legs. He refused to pay.

A drag race had been challenged by the guy who had been thrown, even though there was no logic as he was not to blame and a simple apology could have solved everything in any normal society. But Tulsa ain't any normal society, and Steve Randle ain't ever gonna be a normal guy!

Of course Steve needed someone in the car next to him and seeing as he already had me by the arm after pulling me up away from the table, I was chosen. Darry, Soda and Two-Bit were too busy enthralled in their conversations or games to notice as a large group of Greasers had left Bucks, me sandwiched in between the crowd with Steve's grip on my arm the only thing making me feel relatively safe.

At this point we were led outside to the parking lot where we found Steve's truck that he borrowed from the DX station where he worked with Sodapop. The other Greasers got in their truck and I got in next to my brother's buddy in the passenger seat. Everyone had been whooping and cheering and jeering, but I knew Steve would win. He's a mechanic, he could tear a car apart and put it together again in a day! Or so he says.

He was the best there was in Tulsa - even Socs came from their side of town just to visit the DX station because of his skill... Yeah, there was no doubt he'd win. I also knew from talk from girls at my school that they visited the DX Station not just for Steve and his car skills, but for Soda. Of course, who else? He was the most attractive Greaser to ever live, and could give the popular Socs a run for their money on looks!

The music had been turned up, the windows were rolled all the way down as Steve revved his engine and laughed out loud at the awful sound the oppositions' made. The mechanic obviously knew he was gonna win too. And I had smiled as the vehicles raced away from Buck's. Not just because of the other laughter around me, not just because we'd been going so fast it had been making my head spin, but because that was what I needed to feel alive again. I needed that rush, I needed that speed and youth back again.

Steve and I whooped and raised fists in the air out of the window as we overtook passers-by on the road on the way to the track. The other greasers seemed to be having a good time as well, obviously not going as fast as we were, the real drag race started when we arrived the dirt track road, this was just a little warm up. I didn't even think about Darry, or Soda, or Two-Bit back at the bar, I just thought about the wind in my hair and how great I was feeling even when I was with people I didn't get along with it all. Steve always thought I was a tag along to say the truth, but I guess I was, Soda didn't mind having me around and I enjoyed hanging out with my brother.

When the track came in to view, we'd seen crowds either side of it obviously waiting for some race to take place, there was usually a race on weekends evenings and they were all prepared. Even with Steve driving the truck after having copious amounts of alcohol I was not afraid, I knew I could trust him. He had pretty good reactions even when he was in this mindset, he was a driver and mechanic after all, spent most days up at the DX looking at cars and helping people to make their wheels as reliable as possible.

After we lined up and we saw the signal we were racing off, the other greases had been in front of us to start but I'd got the feeling that Steve was letting them have their moment of glory. We had been driving ever so fast, Steve concentrating mostly on the road but still managing to sing along to the music blasting in our ears. The crowd either side of the track cheered for us, most of them knew Steve and Soda from where they worked, and respected Darry for all he'd have us do to stay out of trouble. The other Greasers well renowned for fights and violence and although that got them street cred, it didn't make people like them.

After the whole Johnny and Dally incident, we were like celebrities in our neighbourhood. People didn't ask questions because they didn't want to bother us; they knew our fierce loyalty, our fighting skills and not to mess with any of us in the state we had been in. People in school had asked me questions for a week, I thought they'd stopped because I didn't answer, but I have a feeling Two-Bit had something to do with it, giving them all death threats in the playground or somethin'. The Socs still sometimes bothered us, but we very rarely were separated individually so we had backup if things got rough.

The other Greasers had been in front of us for a short time. We'd let them have their brief minute of excitement before Steve stepped on it and beat them to the finish line. I had been laughing so hard at their expressions as we passed them and their dodgy truck and the fact that Steve had been yelling curse words and insults at them, plus something about "falling on our table". By the time we'd stopped after the finish line, the opposition didn't, they continued to drive off into the distance along the dirt track (obviously embarrassed).

"SERVES EM RIGHT! HEY, YOU STILL OWE ME A BEER!" Steve shouted after them, he had looked so proud at that moment. Once we had stepped out of the truck, I had looked at the crowd, and then at my brother's best friend. He had been grinning ear to ear, he'd even hugged me so tight that my feet left the ground. Not that I cared much, I was still laughing and the music was still playing. He had to set me down on the ground after I began to grimace in pain from the lack of air I was getting. Boy is he strong.

Let's just say that when I felt a hand slap down on my shoulder and I turned to see Darry, he wasn't very pleased. But behind his eyes, I could see that he was secretly happy that I'd enjoyed myself, and his main anger was later directed at Steve. The mechanic had went on and on about "pride" and "honour" and "tables" as excuses in his drunken state; Two-Bit'd found it hilarious but then again, they had been about as sober as each other. I even think Soda had a good mouth off at Steve for endangering me and yanking me out of the bar from under his nose. Steve had just laughed and took another swig of his beer from a bottle he swiped from Soda's hand, not making either of my brothers relatively happy.

It turns out that Two-bit had "won" the game of pool, but Soda protested it was because the joker had snatched the balls off of the table and put them in the sockets whenever my brother was preoccupied. I smiled at the memory. Those laughs, those smiles and the confidence and freedom I had felt when driving with the wind in my hair. If one small event like that could change me, then what's to say that all things could get better with time?

"Ain't your eggs goin' cold Pony?" I shook my head suddenly and rubbed my hands over my face, coming out of my daze again.

"Huh?"

"I said, ain't your eggs goin' cold?" Darry repeated, giving me a worried look as he moved his empty plate over to the sink. I glanced down at mine, still full and not giving off much heat.

"Umm, I'm not that hungry. Sorry." I said quickly, glancing round to see Two-Bit and Steve barging through the screen door, both covered in dust from the brawl outside but laughing loudly.

"Why are you apologising? I didn't make the breakfast. You sure you're okay?" Darry walked back over to me and placed a hand on my forehead. I swiftly slapped it away and he smiled, "Yeh, you're fine."

And I would be, I knew it.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are loved xx