One Step At A Time

Summary: When he was only two, a car accident took his leg, and his mother. Now, Ponyboy must learn to deal with life as a fourteen year old with only one leg. With the help six brothers and dad, he's just going to have to take it one step at a time. (Mr. Curtis is alive!)

Disclaimer: No, silly, I never have nor will I ever own The Outsiders. S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders. *sighs* :( I simply borrow them for my own creative enjoyment purposes.

White collar black wolf: I'm happy that you think so. :) Thank you so much!

Kas3y: Ha ha, same though. You'll have to find out in here. Thank you so much for reviewing!

Amanda (Guest): What did I do? I don't know. I think you'll have to wait and see. xD Thank you so much, as always, for all of your awesome reviews. :)

Candymouse22: Maybe, maybe not. Thank you so much, as always, for taking the time to leave a review.

Outsiders-stories-forever: Ooh, that sounds really cool! Definitely outing that in my notes. :) Thank you so much for your review!

SunnyDreams (Guest): Well, good thing you get to find out what happens to everyone in this chapter! And exactly about Steve, and I definitely like showing him older and more mature, where he isn't thinking of Pony as a tag along kid but as one of his brothers. Thank you so much for your kind review!

Guest: I know, I know! I'm terrible for leaving you guys with that cliffhanger. But you get to find out what happens in here. :) Thank you so much for your review.

Chapter 12: Thanksgiving Traditions and University Revelations

~ Wednesday, November 23, 1966 ~

Soda soon found himself inside of an ambulance, its sirens wailing as they barreled down the streets towards the hospital. The noise made his head hurt, but something over his face prevented him from speaking. He could hear the paramedic workers' voices, but they kept sounding farther and farther away until he couldn't hear them anymore and he was engulfed in the bliss blanket of unconsciousness he had been wishing for earlier.

OoOoOoO

The next time Sodapop woke up, he was in a hospital bed, Darry on one side of him, and his father on the other, both wearing a worried, tired expression.

"You awake, little buddy?"

"Mmm... Yeah, think so. Wha-...What happened?" Sodapop responded, his voice hoarse.

"Do you remember the drag race?"

"Yeah, yeah, we crashed, didn't we? Is Ponyboy okay?" Sodapop asked worriedly, his head becoming less and less foggy as he continued speaking.

"I told you guys not to go," Darrel broke in, sounding sad. "You have a sprained ankle, two broken ribs, and a few bruised ones. That steering wheel hit you pretty hard, you've been out on pain medicine for a couple of hours. The doc's gonna send some home with us for you for then next week, but you're gonna be released tomorrow morning."

"What about Pony?"

"He's alive, but unconscious. He's got a concussion, and seven stitches to that cut on his cheek, and he broken his knee, but after being in a cast for a few weeks he'll be okay," Darrel assured his middle son, masking his own worry with a false, calm bravado.

"Can I go see him?"

"I don't know if your doctors will allow that. I'll go ask, alright? They'll probably let you if you ride in a wheelchair," Darrel commented before he stood up and left in search of a doctor or a nurse.

"Is Steve okay?" Sodapop asked suddenly. Darry nodded.

"Yeah. He's gonna have a monster headache for the next few days, he's got a concussion too, but besides a few scrapes and that he's all good. I think it's about time for a new thanksgiving tradition, huh, little buddy?" Darry added the last part as a joke, hoping to lighten the situation as he shot his little brother a small smile.

"I think that sounds like a plan," Sodapop smiled. He had taken one too many risks, and this one could have ended completely differently. He had already lost his mom, he wouldn't dare to lose anyone else. Not if he could help it.

Now if he could just see that his little brother was okay for himself.

~ Thursday, November 12, 1970 ~

"To conclude our presentation for the week on the biggest challenge you've faced, Ponyboy Curtis is going to read his presentation."

Pony gathered up his notes, unable to ignore the slight shaking of his hands as he stoop up in front of the class. After his teacher nodded, he began to read.

"Hey, everyone. As many of you know, I only have one complete leg. Which sort of makes me part bionic superhero." A few people in the class laughed, and Ponyboy took the opportunity to take a deep, steadying breath.

"I lost my leg in a car accident when I was two. My mom and I were hit by a car as we were walking on our way to trick or treat one Halloween in '54. She managed to save me, but not my leg, and she paid the price for that with her life. My leg was too badly broken to be saved," Ponyboy rolled up his pant leg to show everyone his prosthetic.

"Having only one leg comes with a lot of challenges, especially from bullies, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Everyone has their baggage and fair share of problems, it's rough all over. My problem is just a little more noticeable than most other people's. What makes us strong is how we deal with life's struggles, and I've definitely learned that. Winston Churchill once said: "Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts." This quote is something I've really tried to live by my whole life, and I hope you guys learn something from it as well. Thank you."

The class erupted into applause, and as the teacher began to speak Ponyboy's praises, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride because, against all odds, he had done it. He was here, on his second year of college on his way to having a degree in English Literature and a minor in journalism. He had gotten out, and he had made it. And he couldn't be prouder.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen," the teacher's voice interrupted Ponyboy's daydream, "I want you to take this experience you presented to us and write a short story about how this has affected your life and made you the person you are today. Make sure to use literary devices we have learned the past semester. This, along with the presentation, will be what I use to tally up the grade for your final. Alright, class dismissed. Have a great night."

OoOoOoO

That night, as he sat at his desk in his apartment, Ponyboy began writing, pouring out every ounce of frustration onto that page, like a cleanse after everything he had been through.

"I kicked a rock with my one good leg, listening to the clicks it made as it made its journey into the highway. After three light clicks, the sound was overpowered by a rumbling engine, a sound not made by any of the barely-running cars that belonged to the people on my side of town..."

A/N: I appreciate everyone who has reviewed, favorited/followed, or even just read this story. You guys are so awesome and your support means so much. Below is a list of all the wonderful people who have reviewed, and I just want to thank them a billions because they absolutely rock.

HappierThanMost

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White collar black wolf

Kas3y

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P.S. Look out for my next story!

Stay Gold,

~ Alee XxX