Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton.

Ponyboy glanced at the clock on his bedside table. He let out a frustrated sigh as he remembered that the clock was broken. Steve, Soda, and Dally had utterly demolished the small clock last week when they decided to have a full-on wrestling match in the tiny room.

Ponyboy breathed out slowly, and stood up carefully; so as to not shake the bed and wake Soda up. A sharp pain erupted from Ponyboy's stomach as he stood from the bed. He grabbed at his abdomen and squeezed his eyes shut in pain. He had been having these terrible stomach aches for the past two days.

Ponyboy quickly walked around the bed, and through the doorway, making his way to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, he flicked the light on and stared at himself in the mirror. One word came to Ponyboy's mind as he observed his own face: "tired."

Ponyboy's dark hair was all flattened out on the right side of his head and sticking upward on the left side. His mouth drooped into a frown, and he seemed to be getting dark rings around his eyes. Ponyboy slowly opened his mouth and licked his very chapped lips. He rested his hands on the counter, leaned forward toward the sink, and spit out some mucus that had been in the back of his throat.

He glanced back up at his face in the mirror and muttered, "I'm not looking so good…" Ponyboy sighed, and turned around.

He didn't want to go back into the bedroom, because he always felt bad when he woke Soda up. So Ponyboy slowly made his way into the living room, where he planned to stretch out on the couch, and try to catch a few hours of sleep before Darry made him get up. Even on Saturday mornings Darry always made Ponyboy wake up before ten o'clock.

But as he entered the livingroom, he saw another figure lying on the couch. Ponyboy's initial emotion was irritation, because now he was going to have to reenter his bedroom and surly wake Soda up. But as he examined the figure on the couch, he realized that it wasn't Tim or Curly or Steve. It was someone smaller; someone tanner.

Ponyboy smiled to himself. Oh, it's just Johnny.

Ponyboy took a few steps closer to Johnny, and stood silently for a moment as he observed the older boy. Johnny had a thin brown blanket wrapped around him, and his head rested on a puffy couch pillow. He was lying on his side with his dark hair pressed up against his forehead. He had his legs curled up close to him, and his arms were crossed over his chest, almost like a mummy's.

Johnny shifted around a bit, before opening his eyes sluggishly, and looking up at Ponyboy. "What'cha staring at me for Pony?"

Ponyboy smiled a bit before saying, "I was comin' in here to sleep for the rest of the night, cause I don't wanna wake Soda up. Why did ya wake up?"

Johnny shook his head as if he were rattled. "I don't know, it's like I could feel ya looking at me or something…" He just shrugged and scooted up further on the couch so that there was room for Ponyboy to lie down. Ponyboy leaned over and grabbed another blanket that was lying on Darry's chair, before climbing onto the couch with Johnny.

Once he was settled and lying on his back comfortably, Ponyboy asked Johnny, "So…what happened?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you here? What happened?"

Johnny readjusted his legs and rolled over onto his other side. "Oh, nothin. Just my ol'man was drunk again."

Ponyboy didn't really need to ask. He and everybody else in the gang knew damn well what Johnny's father was like. "He hurt'cha bad?"

"Nope. I lit on outa there as soon as he started."

"You sure?"

"Yeah man, I'm fine. Now I'm gonna go to bed, alright?"

Ponyboy sighed. "Sure Johnny."

Ponyboy knew that Johnny was just covering up. If Johnny had really not been hurt too bad then he probably would have just gone out to the vacant lot to sleep, especially on such a warm night like this. No, Johnny must have been hurt pretty bad for him to really want to come over to the Curtis house and crash on their couch. He knew he was always welcome, but he didn't like mooching off of other people. Johnny was like that; always concerned about what everybody else felt like. He didn't spend enough time worrying about what he felt like.

Ponyboy's hands started sweating, just as he thought about Mr. Cade laying a hand on Johnny. No kid deserved that, especially a kid like Johnny; a quite kid who wouldn't hurt nobody for nothing. Ponyboy shook his head and told himself that he needed to quit thinking about Johnny's father, because he'd never get to sleep once he got all riled up and frustrated.

Ponyboy finally closed his eyes and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

When Pony opened his eyes it felt like he had just dozed off for a minute or two. But bright sunlight was shining through the window into his gray-green eyes.

He groaned quietly while pushing himself up into a sitting position on the edge of the couch. Pony looked around at his living room. Darry had tried to clean it up a little last night before he went to bed, so it didn't look as bad as it normally did. The card table was no longer lying on its side, and the floor wasn't totally littered with trash and beer cans.

Ponyboy allowed himself to slip into a memory of his mother. He contemplated his mother's cleaning skills, and how she never let the house get too dirty. But she was still fun-loving and kind. She allowed her sons to have a true childhood. They were always crashing in and out of the house, covered in dirt and grime, laughing their heads off about their latest joke or adventure. She never stifled them, but she knew how to keep them in line.

Ponyboy frowned as he thought about his mother. I've gotta stop right here. I can't think about her too much…I won't cry in front of the guys again…I won't.

Ponyboy stood up wearily, but immediately collapsed back onto the couch. The pain in his stomach was back, and worse than ever. Ponyboy rolled to his back on the couch, and moaned as he clutched at his midsection. It was a sharp intense pain that seemed to start in his stomach, and radiate all though his body.

Darry and Johnny came rushing into the living room from the kitchen. Darry scooted Ponyboy's legs over, and sat down next to him on the couch. "You alright, Ponyboy? What is it?"

Ponyboy first gave his brother a bewildered look, and then answered, "Oh, it's my stomach again."

"Its still hurting, like it was yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"Well, we'd better take you to a doctor Ponyboy. You could really be sick. I've never seen you hurt so bad just over an upset stomach."

"No, I'm fine. I'm just…"

"No Ponyboy. You just stay here and give me a second. I'll be ready to go in just a minute. We're taking you to the doctor."

Johnny stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as Darry rushed down the hallway to his bedroom. "Umm…I'd go with you to the doctor Ponyboy, but you know how I hate hospitals."

"Don't sweat it Johnny. I don't even wanna go."

"Ha, but yeah…I guess I'm gonna go on over to the vacant lot, or Two Bit's house. I'll drop by later."

Ponyboy nodded goodbye to Johnny, then clenched his teeth as another wave of pain hit his stomach. Ponyboy had had stomach aches before, but nothing like this. Something was definitely wrong.

Darry reentered the living room with his jacket on, and his hair combed back. "Soda's at work, and today is my only night off for two weeks, so if you're getting sick, we gotta go to the doctor today."

Pony nodded, and allowed his big older brother to pull him off the bed, and walk him out to the Ford pickup. He thought unhappily to himself, "Well, this is not how I really wanted to spend my Saturday morning."