summary : Johnny's parents are arguing again, and he can't sleep. It's far too cold to sleep in the lot, so he heads to the Curtis' household, but is still unable to fall asleep. Ponyboy can't seem to sleep, either.
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Johnny tried to open and close the door as quietly as he possibly could. He never really liked it when he had to sleep over at the Curtis' household, but sometimes he had no choice. It was there or the lot, and tonight it was far too cold to be sleeping outside.
Whenever he stayed the night, he always tried to leave before anyone woke up and saw him. It was embarrassing that he even had to stay there—embarrassing that he couldn't just sleep through his arguing parents at this point.
Their argument that night was bad. Things were being broken, thrown, and Johnny could've sworn that his old man punched a hole in one of the walls. He heard glass breaking, chairs being thrown (which he later saw the aftermath of when he went to leave), cabinets slamming so hard it shattered some of the dishes, and of course screaming. So much fucking screaming. So much more than usual, so much more to make Johnny completely unable to sleep. It was like someone had a really messed up rooster sitting right next to him, cock-a-doodle-doo-ing like it was the morning even though it was 10:00 at night.
But that rooster, the rooster with the clock not set to the correct time, followed him all the way to the Curtis' house, all the way to their couch in the living room right by the front door. It sat on the floor as Johnny sat on the couch and stayed silent.
Then Johnny laid down, and it started cock-a-doodle-doo-ing louder than before. Johnny sat up again, it stopped.
"Now, if you don't shut your little beak I'll make sure—" He realized he wasn't exactly talking to anything. Even if there was a rooster there it's not like it would have listened.
"I really am goin' crazy, ain't I?" Johnny whispered to himself as he leaned back on the couch.
He checked his pockets for a cigarette; nothing. He stood up and checked his jeans pockets. He only had one left.
"Shit," he mumbled.
It was going to be a long night.
Then he started to hear the floor creek and one of the doors squeaking a bit. Johnny froze like a deer in headlights, not sure who to expect to walk out. He just hoped it wasn't because he had woken whoever up with his talking to himself.
Ponyboy appeared in the hall.
"Oh, hey Johnny," he smiled.
"Hey, Pony," Johnny was quite relieved it was only Ponyboy. "I'm sorry, did I wake you up?"
"Oh, no. I haven't been able to sleep for the life of me,"
"Me neither," Ponyboy sat down next to Johnny on the couch.
"Everything alright?"
"Yeah. My parents just had a big fight is all; bigger than usual I should say," recalling it, Johnny could have cried. Honestly there's a lot he could have cried at that moment; the fact that Ponyboy was taking the time to listen to him, the fact that he didn't care how late it was, and how he didn't seem fed up one bit. Johnny probably cried a lot more than he thought he should; more than any of the gang knew or probably could have guessed.
"Hey, it'll get better. Soon you'll be old enough to live on your own. I wish you could just live with us but Darry'd probably rip my head off," Ponyboy chuckled. Johnny didn't, he was hardly paying attention. He was distracted trying to keep himself from crying. Hands shaking a bit, he grabbed his last cigarette from his pocket and lit it.
"Whoa, man, you're shaking—are you okay?"
"Yeah, I guess," he blew out a puff of smoke.
"Something bothering you?" Johnny didn't respond. He leaned back on the couch again, stared at the ceiling, and just like that he felt tears running down his cheeks.
"I'm so sorry, Ponyboy," he didn't really know what he was apologizing for, he just felt guilty. Maybe he was apologizing just to be saying something, to fill the silence.
"Hey," Ponyboy hugged Johnny the best he could at the angle they were at. "Don't cry, Johnny," Johnny fixed his posture and hugged Pony back.
"I can't do this anymore, I'm serious. They were throwin' stuff everywhere, hittin' each other, breaking things. I think the old man punched a hole in the wall. They were both screamin' so loud I thought my ears were gonna burst. I couldn't sleep through it so I left. Got hit a few times on the way out, too. Oh, and there was blood... They're gonna fucking kill each other. I don't wanna go back there, Pony. I can't go back." Johnny took another hit with a shaking hand, still crying.
"You can stay here as long as you want, alright? I'm sure Darry won't mind all that much," Ponyboy hugged him tighter. "It'll be alright."
"What if they're dead? What if the old man beat my Ma to a pulp? Then what do I do? I'm gonna get sent to a home, Pony, and if I get sent to a home I might as well just kill myself because what'll be the point then? What's the point now ?" Johnny was overthinking, and that was no good because when he overthought, he couldn't really ever stop and it wasn't any help that Ponyboy didn't know what else to say.
"Don't kill yourself, Johnny, please. You're scarin' me with how much you talk about it," Johnny just cried more.
"I'm sorry," Without thinking about it at all, he put out his cigarette on the back of his hand. The pain didn't register at all until a couple seconds later.
"Ow, shit," he muttered and applied pressure to it with his other hand. Ponyboy broke from the hug, worried.
"What?"
"I'm not thinking anymore," he uncovered his hand.
"When was the last time you actually slept all night?"
"I don't know," Ponyboy gave a worried expression. Now that he was aware of it, he saw the bags under Johnny's eyes clear as day.
"Lay down and try to sleep, alright? I'll stay out here if you want," Johnny nodded. Ponyboy stood up to get a blanket while Johnny found a comfortable position. Ponyboy came back and draped the blanket over Johnny, who then propped himself up on his arm giving Ponyboy room to sit so he could lay his head in his lap. Ponyboy brushed his fingers through Johnny's hair which was a much easier task than it would have been during the day since all the grease had been washed out now. His hair was actually quite fluffy and soft without all that product; Ponyboy quite liked it, it reminded him of cotton candy or a puppy, which made more sense to him.
He leaned down and gave Johnny a kiss on the forehead, and Johnny smiled which made Pony smile too.
"Sleep well, Johnnycake," Johnny was out like a light before he could even respond. Ponyboy had put the rooster to sleep, too.
