The Not Multi-Chapter Fic Shrine (Multi-fandom Oneshots)

And Johnny Died But Better (Johnnyboy)

I wrote this for extra credit at school.

Tw: death and blood

PrinceAli15

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Dally and I had just made it to Johnny's room. The Doctor pilled as aside before we could walk in, a sympathetic look clear on their face.

"I'm so sorry boys, but I'm afraid he's dying. There's nothing else we can do."

Dally didn't hesitate to pull Two-Bit's switch on the doctor. "You've gotta let us in there. If not you'll be the one in critical condition."

The doctor lowered Dally's arm with the blade, seemingly unfazed.

"You can go in, but not because of that knife. It's because he said you boys were more family than his parents were."

We didn't need to be told twice. Dally nearly broke the door down. The first thing I noticed when we walked in was how awful Johnny looked. He was so pale. It was like he was a completely different person. The dull monotone beeping og the heart monitor was the only thing making me aware he wasn't gone already. Surprisingly, Dally damn near breaking the door off its hinges didn't wake Johnny up.

"Johnny?" Dally's voice was strained. It was a strange sound. "Johnny you in there?"

Johnny opened his eyes and we got closer.

"Hey." I'd never heard his voice that quiet, it was such a surreal experience. Part of me knew he was dying, but the other part of me insisted it was just a bad dream I was gonna wake up from, probably tangled up in Johnny's arms in the church, or in the lot, or even in my bed and apologizing to Soda for the millionth time for forcing him onto the couch again.

"We beat the Socs in the rumble." Dally offered a rare small grin.

Johnny on the other hand wasn't smiling at all. "There's no good in fighting, Doesn't do not'in."

Dally looked at me as if to say "Tell him something he'd want to hear."

I took Dally's spot next to the bed. I grabbed Johnny's hand and stared into his eyes. They sparkled like they always had. It was like someone had taken two slices of space and put them into his eyes. I thought it was funny how even though he was dying and he knew it, his eyes still held that sparkle. I guess I just had that effect on him.

"They're still writing about you in the papers, Johnnycake. They keep saying you're a hero." He smiled at me. It wasn't any smile though. It was that special smile that only meant something to us.

"Yeah, kid," Dallt ruffled Johnny's hair. "I'm real proud of you."

Johnny beamed. He'd never explicitly said it, but I knew he was always looking for Dally's approval. The thing he wanted most was for Dally to be proud of him.

"Ponyboy?"

"What?" I squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.

"I need you to promise me a few things."

I looked down at our intertwined fingers. I guess I had subconsciously begun to rub my thumb across his and. I didn't like where this was going. But still, I told him the, rather sappy and cliche, truth. "I'd do anything for you."

"First, I want you to finish Gone With The Wind for me."

I nodded. "Ok, what else?"

"Don't do anything too stupid."

I laughed a little at that.

"And finally..." he hesitated. "Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold."

His grip loosened and his whole body visibly relaxed.

The deafening "beep" og the heart monitor flatlining rang throughout the room. I started to feel dizzy. It was a different kinda dizzy. It felt like the room has started spinning. Like it had become a carousel. I felt my body shaking before the tears came. Was only one thing on my mind.

Johnny.

Literally everything about him.

His smile, his eyes, his laugh, the way he understood me better than anyone ever had. I couldn't breathe. The air was choking me. The sound of the flatline was a knife. I'd never been in this much pain since mom and dad died. Johnny, my best friend, my boyfriend, the love of my life, the best the to ever have happened to me, had just died in front of me.

Dally broke me out of my daze. He'd started banging his fist against the wall. He kept saying "Damnit Johnny. Why'd it have to be you?" and other more colorful variants of the phrase. He pounded that wall like it was going to bring Johnny back. He kept going until blood trickled down his hand.

I got a good look at his face and then realized he was crying.

Dallas Winston never cries.

He stopped abusing the wall for a moment. He looked at his bloodied hand. He looked at me, then Johnny. He looked at the spot on the wall where his fist had transferred his blood. Then he started at the ground for a few moments, like he was silently pleading for something, anything to change the sound of the flatline into the steady beeping from a few moments prior.

But nothing happened.

Once he realized this, Dally ran out the same way he came in.