The Outsiders x male reader

Chapter 2 (2/3)

P.O.V Ponyboy

       It was almost four months ago. I had walked down to the DX station to get a bottle of pop and to see Steve and Soda, because they'll always buy me a couple of bottles and let me help work on the cars. I don't like to go on weekends because then there is usually a bunch of girls down there flirting with Soda — all kinds of girls, Socs too. I don't care too much for girls yet. Soda says I'll grow out of it. He did.

It was warming spring day with the sun shining bright, but it was getting chilly and dark by the time we started for home. We were walking because we had left Steve's car at the station. At the corner of our block there's a wide, open field where we play football and hang out, and it's often a site for rumbles and fist fights. We were passing it, kicking rocks down the street and finishing our last bottle of Pepsi, when Steve noticed something lying on the ground, next to another thing. He picked them up. It was Johnny's blue-jeans jacket — the only jacket he had. He also had (M/n)'s jacket that was to big for him — it was from Johnny and he cherished it.

"Looks like Johnny and (M/n) forgot their jackets," Steve said, slinging them over his shoulder to take it by the Cade's house. Suddenly he stopped and examined them more carefully. Johnny's jacket collar, had a stain the color of rust across it. (M/n)'s jacket had the same rust color stain on it, and there was also a hole in the arm. But it wasn't from being used all the time it was definitely from a blade.

Steve looked at the ground. There were some more stains on the grass. He looked up and across the field with a stricken expression on his face. I think we all heard the low moan and saw the two dark motionless humps on the other side of the lot at the same time. Soda reached them first. Johnny was lying face down on the ground with (M/n) laying down on Johnny's back. Soda turned them over gently, and I nearly got sick. Someone had beaten them badly.

we were used to seeing Johnny and (M/n) banged up — their father clobbered them a lot, and although it made us madder than heck, we couldn't do anything about it. But those bestings had been nothing like this. Johnny's face cut up and bruised and swollen, and there was a wide gash from his temple to his cheekbone. (M/n) also had cuts and bruises on his face, he had a cut from his top lip to his bottom lip. He also had a cut from his ear down to his cheekbone.

They would carry those three scars all his life. Johnny's white T-shirt was splattered with blood, (M/n)'s (f/c) shirt had holes and was all bloody. I just stood there, trembling with sudden cold. I thought they might be dead; surely nobody could be beaten like that and live. Steve closed his eyes for a second and muffled a groan as he dropped on his knees beside Soda.

Somehow the gang sensed what had happened. Two-Bit was suddenly there beside me, and for once his comical grin was gone and his dancing gray eyes were stormy. Darry had seen us from our porch and ran toward us, suddenly skidding to a halt. Dally was there, too, swearing under his breath, and turning away with a sick expression on hid face. I wondered about it vaguely. Dally had seen people killed on the streets of New York's West Side. Why did he look sick now?

"Johnny, (M/n)?" Soda lifted them up and held them against his shoulders. He gave the limp bodies a slight shake. "Hey, Johnnycake, (N/n)."

Johnny didn't open his eyes, neither did (M/n), but there came a soft question from Johnny. "Soda?"

"Yeah, it's me," Sodapop said. "Don't talk. You and (M/n) are gonna be okay."

"There was a whole bunch of them," Johnny went on, swallowing, ignoring Soda's command. "A blue Mustang full . . . I got so scared . . ." He tried to swear, but suddenly started crying, fighting to control himself, then sobbing all the more because he couldn't. I looked at (M/n) who was passed out, and saw tear stains on his cheeks. I had seen Johnny and (M/n) take a whipping with a two-by-four from their old man and never let out a whimper. That made it worse to see him break now. Soda just held them and pushed Johnny's hair back out of his eyes. "It's okay, Johnnycake, they're gone now. It's okay."

Finally, between sobs, Johnny managed to gasp out his story. He and (M/n) had been hunting our football to practice a few kicks when a blue Mustang had pulled up beside the lot. There were four Socs in it. They had caught them and one of them had a lot of rings on his hand. Another one had a pocket knife with them — that's what had cut Johnny and (M/n) up so badly. It wasn't just that they had beaten them half to death — they couldn't take that. They had scared them. They had threatened them with everything under the sun. Johnny and (M/n) were high-strung anyway, nervous wrecks from getting belted every time they turned around and from hearing their parents fight all the time. Living in those conditions might have turned someone else rebellious and bitter; it was killing (M/n) and Johnny. They had never been cowards. They were good men in a rumble. They stuck up for the gang and kept their mouths shut good around cops. But after the night of the beating, (M/n) and Johnny were jumpier than ever. I didn't think they'd get over it. Johnny never walked by himself after that. (M/n) only ever walked by himself if something at his house was really bad. Johnny who were the most law-abiding of us, Johnny now carried in His back pocket a six-inch switchblade. He'd use it, too, if he and (M/n) ever got jumped again. The Socs had scared them that much. Johnny would kill the next person who jumped them. Nobody was ever going to beat them like that again. Not over Johnny's dead body . . .

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꧁☾𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕒 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕪 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕥 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣. 𝕀 𝕙𝕠𝕡𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕛 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕫𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕕𝕒𝕪/𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥.☽꧂