"Johnny, why did you tell me... I-I could have helped... We could have all helped..." I said, grabbing Johnny's small, quivering hand. "You shouldn't have to go through that torment all alone, kid."

He went to pull his hand away, but I refused to let go. "I-I didn't want help... Help is for for wimps,... Baby's..." He looked like he was about to cry.

"Everyone needs help, every once in a while." I said in a calm voice. "You know," I whispered. "Since Sodapop wasn't to good at math, as a kid, I had to go through every single thing that he learned in school with him. On top of my own homework, I had to go through pages and pages of his homework... But I did it... Because I love him. He's my brother... I kinda have to love him."

Johnny looked up to me, grinning.

"Now," I said, getting back to business, "You don't have to be a wimp, or a baby, to ask for help... So,... You need help?"

"I..." he looked at me, frowning. "Can't... I mean, what would the gang think if they saw me asking for help?... What would Dally think?"

He looked up to Dallas. Dallas Winston was Johnny's role model. Not a great one, but he was. I could feel his pain. Once, I got jumped at the young age of 5. I was all bruised up and bleeding all over. I bandaged myself up, and went home. I didn't tell Darry or Soda. I didn't want to look like a wimp in front of my role models...

"Dallas would love and care about you just the same... He wants to protect you. His goal is to keep you safe... If you asked for help... Well, that would just about make his day."

A single tear ran down Johnny's face. The single tear was followed by many others. He cried and cried. He stopped when we heard the stairs creak. Someone was coming down stairs. It was Dallas.

Johnny rubbed his eyes, to hide the fact that he was crying. He had been crying on my shoulder. He tried to put his head back up right. I wouldn't let him. I subtly put his head back down.

Dallas had watched me do this. He stood still, watching us. I nodded and he walked over, hesitantly. He knew what to do. He sat down on the opposite side of Johnny. I had my arm around Johnny, so Dallas followed.

He whispered in Johnny's ear, just loud enough for me to hear. "Don't worry Johnny... We're here for ya... You have nothing to worry 'bout." Johnny cried again. He cried and cried until he couldn't cry anymore. By the way he looked at that point, he looked like like he was barely 10 years old.

After he finished crying, he looked at the both of us with the slightest grin. "Can we not tell the guys about this?"

I giggled a little, "Sure, kid."

"Yeah," Dally added, "As long as you don't tell them I have a heart." he gave a thievish grin. "I kinda got a record, ya know?"

"Sure, Dallas." he said, giggling. "I know ya well enough."

We all fell asleep after that single word. We fell asleep, holding Johnny as if someone was trying to take him from us. I never wanted to loose him.

He'd told me that night that his parents abused him. I couldn't believe it. The only person filled with that much love to share, that much promise for the world... Didn't get a single ounce of it from his own parents... That night, he didn't go to Two-bits house... He went home... To deal with that... Why should anyone have to deal with that?...