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Ponyboy stared at Sodapop blankly as Sodapop continued on and on about why he called the cops on him, about why he felt he had to do that, despite knowing what it would mean for Ponyboy, what it would mean for Darry and Sodapop and what the state would no doubt come back to do; but all Ponyboy could hear was that Sodapop didn't trust him.

"Sodapop," Ponyboy started, catching Soda's attention who stared at him hopefully, but Ponyboy's blank gaze never wavered, "I've never lied to you, so why didn't you just ask me," Ponyboy asked; Sodapop's face fell and tears welled in his brother's eyes, and there was a sob building in his brother's throat but Ponyboy found that, for once, he didn't care.

"I'm sorry honey," Sodapop started but Ponyboy cut him off with a sharp "Don't call me that, Curtis," that had Sodapop reeling back in shocked hurt, but Ponyboy found he still didn't care, there was a lot he didn't care about right now; "I want to go back to my cell," Ponyboy directed towards the guard standing on his side of the glass; he waited until the guard nodded his approval before standing up and letting the officers cuff his hands behind his back for a second time in front of his second oldest brother—Ponyboy never once looked back.

Ponyboy felt betrayed as the cuffs clinked shut behind his back, his heart racing as his thoughts raced on how it became known that he was in one of the gangs in Tulsa, specifically one of the ones that the cops have been looking for any member of to arrest and charge with crimes; his mind jumped to how he was going to get himself out of this when something caught his attention.

His heart felt like it was ripped from his chest when he saw Sodapop crying in the window of the living room, his arms crossed but relief on his face; relief that could only be from believing that you had done the right thing—Ponyboy had never thought that his own family would betray him like this.

Ponyboy's face fell, tears filling his eyes before he glared with as much hatred as he could muster at his older brother; he ignored the satisfaction he felt as he was put into the car, seeing Sodapop's face break as he turned from the window and walked away, further into the house that Ponyboy would have to be dead to come back to.

"I'm sorry, querida," Curly sighed, rocking himself and Ponyboy gently as they sat curled up in Curly's best, attempting to calm themselves down from their experiment from earlier, "We shoulda waited fer Tim or Dallas, Lo siento mucho," It almost sounded like he was going to start crying himself.

Shifting in his grip, Ponyboy sat up a little bit so that he could brush back the hair in Curly's face and tried to get the other to look at him, it wasn't a successful attempt but it was an attempt all the same—so Ponyboy kissed his cheek to get his attention.

"Curly, it's okay, we're okay," Ponyboy murmured, "I'm okay and now we know better about doing that on our own," Ponyboy laughed a bit and Curly's breath caught in his throat as he met Ponyboy's eyes, they were still dull and teary, but Ponyboy had a point; neither of them were hurt physically, and they were resting in bed, recovering and waiting for Tim and Dallas to get home from meeting with someone about a safe house for Ponyboy; "Okay," Curly relented, "Okay."

Tim didn't think he'd ever have to lead his gang without Dallas Winston by his side, which was a ridiculous thought because Tim had started his gang years before Dallas had even fixed a spot in the Shepard's life, he'd been running his gang years before he ever gave a shit about Dallas Fucking Winston.

But now, as Tim stared at the skull run that he wore on his left hand, a frown on his face as his chest hurt in an unfamiliar way, he wished for just one more damn night with the loud mouthed Yankee—the seventeen year old had really made himself at home in Tim's life—and it didn't matter what they were to do, just one night would be enough for Tim; it wouldn't but he could fool himself into thinking it would be.

Tim scoffed as the nickname he'd stuck Dallas with when they were 14 and 12 came to mind, it was a stupid nickname that Dallas had detested, which only made Curly call him that even more, even after Dallas saved their lives; or maybe it was because Dallas had saved their lives, proved he cared and gave a shit about not just Tim but his twins too, and maybe Dallas let himself be called a name that he clearly didn't like because he cared about them.

Ponyboy's hands shook as the water poured over his shoulders, purposefully keeping his head out of the water as Curly rubbed his shoulder's comfortingly, soothing words spoken in Spanish while shaky breaths rasped in Ponyboy's throat.

"Doin' so good, Pony, doin' real good now," Curly's words, now in English, were rough and quiet as the shower continued, they didn't think it would be a good idea to do this with a full bathtub, especially not with how Ponyboy had been held down in the damn fountain, so running a shower was the next best thing they could think of.

"I can't, I can't, Curly, Curly," Ponyboy's voice broke on his second call of Curly's name, and Curly cut the water as a sob broke from Ponyboy's chest and his body began to shake; the towel was wrapped around Ponyboy who was shaking and pressing himself against Curly's chest, and he would normally complain about his clothes being wet but it was Ponyboy so he didn't care; Besides, Curly supposed that pushing Ponyboy backward into the spray might have been a bit much.

"What's wrong Alpha," Dallas asked quietly, a smirk on his face that told Tim that he was absolutely not caring how the title came across to the pack leader, in fact he was probably hoping that Tim would give into the bait and start and argument or fight, or would take the direction his provocations usually caused, and fuck him until he couldn't stop calling for Tim.

Tim thought about both options, but evidently didn't do either option, instead choosing to smirk with darkened eyes as he leaned down to Dallas' ear and rumble a soothing purr that he knew made Dallas feel crazy, "I don't know, Alpha, why don't you tell me what you want?"

Dallas made a noise of awe and when Tim pulled away, Dallas' eyes were blown wide open and his breathing was shallow; pleased, Tim pulled away and grabbed his twin's—and Ponyboy's—homework to finish going over with corrections while Dallas got himself under control.

Curly felt the breath leave from his lungs as he watched Ponyboy flick open his switchblade and hold it loosely in his hand like Tim had done hundreds of times during confrontations; his breath had left his lungs, it felt like he couldn't breathe as a smile slowly built on to his face listening to the low curses and threats coming from Ponyboy's lips.

"Come on Curls," Ponyboy laughed afterwards, "get your head outta the clouds, that's my job," a grin on his face afterwards and the switchblade back in his pocket, mischief in his eyes when he looked back at Curly with a loose grin.

"I can't help it baby, not when you're threatening people in my honor," Curly responded, not even caring where the Socs that had been threatening him had gone, just caring that Ponyboy's attention was on him of all people, that Ponyboy had stuck up for him with his blade of all things; Ponyboy didn't pull his blade out to protect just anybody.

Ponyboy sighed quietly as he snuck into the Shepard's house, his mind running through different ways that this could go wrong but not caring as he toed his shoes off and locked the door behind him.

He walked through the halls as quietly as he could, head feeling spacey and his eyes burned with tears unshed as he finally got to Curly's room; it wasn't hard to actually get there, Ponyboy had done this every night for the last two weeks.

Carefully sneaking in, Ponyboy darted towards the bed where Curly was waiting for him, a quiet sob escaping him as Curly pulled him close and maneuvered them so that Ponyboy was underneath Curly's weight; like Curly was a weight blanket covering Ponyboy and protecting him.

Ponyboy stayed still, low and crouched to the ground beside the door to the darkened school, as he watched Curly strut forward towards an unsuspecting prey lured to the school to break in for test answers for an upcoming test.

His teeth hurt and his throat was sore from crying during his turning that was begging for him to just lunge out and sink his teeth right at the jugular, but he'd been told to stay where he was so that was what he was going to do; so that Curly could catch them their meal and not alert anyone to unseemly activities.

The shallow breathing that Ponyboy was still mimicking despite not needing to breathe was not helping the matter and he kept swallowing around nothing as he waited, aching with anticipation of finally being full, of finally not hurting or feeling so cold.