the outsiders imagines

good years - johnny

pairing: johnny x reader

warning: mentions of abuse

summary: johnny hopes he hasn't wasted his good years.

---

"I'd rather be anywhere, anywhere but here," Johnny whispered. He was laying down, back flat against the basketball court in the park near his house. Lying next to him, Y/N looked up at the sky, listening to his steady breathing. It was normal for the two of them to spend time like this: underneath the night sky, speaking in hushed voices about things they wouldn't dare tell anyone else.

"What's wrong with Tulsa?" Y/N asked quietly.

"I'm not talking about Tulsa," Johnny replied, shutting his eyes tightly. "I've got no one. No one cares about me. No one would miss me if I was gone. I feel empty inside. It's like I'm not meant to be here, like I have no purpose."

"I'd miss you, Johnny," Y/N interjected, sitting up abruptly and staring at him. "I care about you."

Johnny sighed, and sat up next to her, making sure to avoid eye contact. "I...I know you do, Y/N. It's just that it's really hard for me to believe it. All of my life, people have abandoned me, pushed me down. I can't trust anyone anymore." Johnny winced as his voice cracked at the end of his sentence. He hated feeling like this, feeling weak. He rarely allowed himself to feel his emotions. But somehow he felt as if with her, it was okay. With her, he felt safe.

_

His mother was screaming at him again, but this time, Johnny didn't know what for. She yelled at him constantly, so much that it was normal for Johnny's ears to ring when he was lying in bed at night. Usually, she had a reason. She'd shout at him when he didn't do his chores. She'd shout at him if his father didn't come home. She'd shout at him if she was tired, or is she had run out of that goddamn whiskey she loved so much. Even if he wasn't the root of the problem, even if it wasn't his fault, there was a reason. Except now.

Johnny unlocked his bedroom and walked into the kitchen where his mother was. He hugged himself to calm the shaking in his hands, his fingers grabbing at his ratty t-shirt. He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing, to prepare himself for what was to come. But the second he stepped into that kitchen, he knew he was done for.

His mother was holding a broken bottle in front of her, brandishing it like a switchblade. And it was pointed at him.

-

Y/N didn't know what to say. She'd told Johnny on multiple occasions that she'd always be here for him. She couldn't understand how Johnny felt so alone. How could you feel so alone when you had the gang and your girlfriend that cared so deeply about you?

"I'm turning seventeen next week," Johnny spoke, breaking the silence. Y/N wanted to point out that she knew that already. "Seventeen years, and I haven't accomplished anything. I'm just a high school dropout who isn't worth anything."

"That's not true, Johnny, that's -"

"Oh yeah?" Johnny cut in angrily, glaring at Y/N. He didn't know why he was so angry, why he was directing this uncontrollable rage at her. In his mind, he screamed at himself. He knew he was being an irrational idiot for being so upset with one of the only people in this world he could trust, but he couldn't stop himself. "What's in my future, Y/N, huh? What do I have to live for, what am I going to accomplish? Am I gonna win the Nobel Prize? Am I gonna start my own business? Tell me, Y/N. What the hell do I have to give to the world? I'm just a greaser, a worthless, talentless, dumb greaser. And there's nothing that anyone can do to change that."

Y/N didn't know how to reply to that.

-

Johnny liked spending time with Dallas. Dally was the older brother he never had, and Dallas could relate to his own family troubles. Dally had, after all, been abandoned by his parents at a young age. Hell, he'd grown up in New York, running with dangerous gangs and fending for himself. To be honest, Johnny envied Dallas. Dallas had the courage to leave his family for good, something Johnny had considered but was too scared to go through with.

Johnny was sitting on the old bean bag in Dallas' room at Buck's when the older boy's voice interrupted his thoughts. "So, Johnny, I heard from Tim Shepard that you've been runnin' with the wrong crews."

"Ain't any of Tim Shepard's business," Johnny replied instantly. He pulled out a box of cigarettes, one that he'd 'borrowed' from Dally. Dally snatched them and tossed the box away.

"Johnny, I told you not to hang around those crowds. You're gonna get yourself in juvie if you're not careful."

"Dallas, I'm fine. I can handle myself just fine," Johnny argued back. He knew Dallas was right, but Johnny so desperately wanted to show Dallas that he wasn't the fragile puppy everyone thought he was. He was just as tuff and tough as any other greaser. Just because he'd gotten beaten up by the Socs once didn't mean he was a weakling. Johnny hated that Dallas saw him as one.

"You know, Johnny. I thought you were gonna make something of yourself, that you had some real potential. Now you're just turnin' into another no-good hood like me. I'm real disappointed."

Johnny swore he could hear his own heart break inside of his chest.

-

"I just want to feel alive," Johnny said.

He could hear Y/N shifting uncomfortably beside him. He didn't blame her. She couldn't possibly understand how numb he felt, and it would be unreasonable to expect her to be able to. He appreciated that she listened to him, really listened to him. He'd tried talking to Ponyboy before, but Ponyboy was too idealistic, too optimistic. Ponyboy thought books and movies could make everything better, and maybe for Ponyboy, they did. But for Johnny, books and movies were just a reminder of how much better other people's lives were. They were just another slap in the face.

Sodapop, Two Bit, and Steve didn't really get him either. They'd punch him in the arm and crack jokes, trying to make him laugh. Johnny had to admit, they were pretty funny. But as soon as he stopped laughing, he'd feel numb again. To them, life was good as long as there was something to laugh about. Sometimes, Johnny didn't have the strength to laugh.

Y/N didn't suggest solutions, or pretend like there was a magic spell that could take away all of his pain. She listened, and she reminded Johnny that he wasn't alone. Johnny loved that about her. She didn't try to stop him from wallowing in his sadness. She was just there for him, and sometimes that was all Johnny needed.

"One day," she said, catching Johnny's attention. "One day, you're going to leave this town, this place, and you're going to go somewhere. You're going to be someone, Johnny Cade, I feel it in my heart."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I believe in you," Y/N said, a confident smile spreading across your face. "Your good years aren't over yet, Johnny. Not yet."

"I hope you're right," Johnny said. And as he looked up at the stars, lying on the cold ground next to his favorite person in the entire world, he could almost taste the future Y/N was talking about.