"You need to come into Johnny's mind with me," Sophie said. "Just like last time. Happy memories to fix the cracks."

Except I can't think of any happy memories. Not ones that are completely happy. They're all tinged with sadness, a bittersweet happiness.

Except for when I found out I wasn't insane. When I found out I was normal. I could truly belong. I'll draw on that.

"Okay," I said, trying to sound strong. If I sounded strong, I'd feel stronger. "I can do this. Let's go."

Together, we delved into his mind again. I used every bit of happiness I could draw from that memory, and spread over the cracks. All the hope of a long, happy future with Johnny. Not so much a memory, as a dream.

The cracks faded, but Sophie kept inflicting. So did I.

Then, together, we pulled out of his mind, my worried eyes searching Johnny's face. He blinked slowly, looking around. He looked slightly paler, but pretty good, considering what he'd been through.

"Tess," he rasped. "Did I-"

"You're fine," Sophie cut in. "Just rest."

"Yeah, Johnnycakes. You need to rest," I whispered.

I gently took his hand, leaning against his shoulder as I sat in the chair next to his bed.

"'Kay," he mumbled sleepily. "Tess, stay."

He should know that he doesn't have to ask. I'll always stay with him. He's probably a little out of it, from what he's gone through.

"Of course," I whispered as he drifted off.

"I'll leave you two alone," Sophie whispered, gently closing the door behind her.

Johnny's warmth wrapped around me, lulling me to sleep.

*****

"Should we wake her?" Sodapop said.

"But she's so peaceful." Probably Darry. He cares about me in his own way. He's gruff, but he means well.

"She'll kill us if she misses dinner." Definitely Pony. He knew me best.

I felt a pair of hands shaking me insistently, yet they were gentle. Sodapop. Pony hands are smaller, and Darry would be rougher. He tries to be gentle, but he just can't. It's not in his nature. Besides, I can feel the magic of Soda's hands lulling me back to sleep.

"Tess, wake up!" Pony shouted.

Johnny shot up, gasping.

"Johnny, relax. I'm here," I whispered. Turning, I said, "Pony! Why would you wake Johnny up?"

"'Cause. You wouldn't get up," Pony said.

"You couldn't have woken me up without waking up Johnny?" I asked, exasperated.

"Ya weren't getting up!" Pony exclaimed.

I swear, that boy acts like he's three, instead of four-fifteen. Not fourteen. The Elvin counting is kinda throwing me off. I'm fourteen. Darry's twenty-one. Old. But not old.

"I was too," I said calmly, glaring at him.

"Jeez, ya don't have to use your death glare on me," Pony said, trying to do one of his own.

But he failed. He just looked like a tired, grouchy three-year-old.

"Nope," I said. "Not like that. Little Pony." I snickered at the nickname.

"Hey!" Pony shouted. "Darry, make her stop!"

"Yep. Definitely little Pony," Johnny said, smiling weakly. "Real little Pony."

"You too?" Pony asked.

"You're acting like you're three," Johnny said. "And I need a smoke."

"A smoke?" Two asked, poking his head in the door. "I've been itching to try this out, but I wanted to wait for a special moment. Sophie was real worried when she left, so I'd say this counts."

His eyes twinkled as he snapped his fingers. A pack of Kools dropped into his waiting hand.

"Cool!" I said. "Now get some chocolate cake mix!"

"Sure," Two's eyes sparkled. "After I have a smoke. Want one?"

"Yeah," said Pony.

Pony took two, but gave one to Johnny.

I rolled my eyes when they realized they didn't have a lighter. "I'll find Dal," I said. "But ya should probably get another pack of Kools."

"Yeah, I should," Two said.

I heard him snap his fingers as I left in search of Dally.

"Who ya looking for, Tess?" asked Tara.

"Dal," I said.

I saw the shadows move along the walls as she closed her eyes.

She smiled when she opened them. "He's outside. In the gardens."

"Thanks, Tara," I said, grinning as I raced towards the gardens.

Dal was standing with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, slouching as usual. I'll have to ask him about that. I wish I had mine.

"Dally!" I shouted. "C'mon. They need your lighter."

"Why mine?" he drawled.

"'Cause. They don't have their own on them," I said, dragging him back towards Johnny's room. "Oh, and Johnny's mind broke-"

"What?" Dal shouted.

"But he's fine now. We healed him," I said. "He wants a smoke. They have some cancer sticks, but no lighter. Kools."

"I'm in," Dally said as he stopped resisting my pull.

"Finally," I said.

We ran to Johnny's room, not bothering to be quiet.

"Gimme!" Two shouted when we barged through the door. "Me first!"

"No way, man," Dallas glared at him. "I wanna see the Kools."

Two dropped a whole pack of Kools into Dal's hand. "Happy?"

"Yeah," Dal said, taking one out and lighting it. "Here, Johnnycakes." He tossed his lighter to Johnny, who caught it with ease. Using telekinesis.

"Man, do ya really have to show off like that?" Dal asked.

Johnny's eyes lost their playful spark as he looked down, fiddling with the lighter.

Dally's eyes softened. "Aw, Johnnycakes, I didn't mean it like that," he said.

"Yeah, right," Johnny scoffed, but it came off as sad instead. "You did mean it like that."

"Johnnycakes," Dally said. "You were the first person I've ever loved, okay?" he whispered, his voice rough. His eyes were glassy. "You were the first person I let in. You're my best friend."

"Dallas Winston has friends?" Two asked.

"Keith!" I hissed.

"Dal," Johnny said. "I dunno what got into me. I guess it's the endless days, lying here, staring at the ceiling. Trapped."

"I'll get ya outta there," Dal said. "After this smoke." He lit his cancer stick, creating perfect smoke rings when he exhaled. "Whatever it takes."

"But I'm gonna have to wait for ya to finish your smoke," Johnny grumbled.

"I'll stay with ya," I said, taking his hand. "I ain't gonna abandon ya for a smoke."

"Yeah. Ya don't smoke," Johnny said.

"I could. I just don't," I said.

Little known fact. I can smoke. I just choose not to. Pony's the real smoker. I just kick everyone's asses when they're being idiots. I don't need a cancer stick to look tuff. But most of the gang does. And sometimes, not even then.

"What?" Darry roared.

"Tess!" Soda shouted.

"Really?" Pony asked.

"Ponyboy!" shouted Darry and Soda.

"Man, y'all have gotta stop the shouting," Dallas said.