Around 8:45 that morning...

"Pony, this is the last straw!"

"What am I doin'?!"

"Don't give me that crap! And I got a call from the school saying that you've been in how many fights already?! Jesus, Pone, can't you have common sense at even the best of times? This isn't like you! Now, I want you to sit your butt down, finish your homework, and I'm gonna review it to make sure you did it right. After I get home from work, I wanna have a talk with you."

As I left the room and closed the door, I heard Pony let out an agitated groan and a few choice words. I restrained myself from going back in and went into the living room instead, finding Sodapop sprawled on the floor, watching TV from a weird angle.

"Ain't it easier to watch it from the couch?" I said, watching him. He turned his head awkwardly to smirk at me.

"You gonna help me up?" he said, extending his hand in my direction. I shook my head and grabbed my jacket from the couch. I watched as he untangled himself and plopped onto the couch while I shrugged into my jacket. "What's goin' on with Ponyboy?"

"Slacking work. Fights in school he started. Tryin' to get mouthy with me. Don't know what's gotten into the kid," I turned into the kitchen and grabbed my keys from the table. I returned to see Soda concerned.

"Maybe you shouldn't yell at him, Darry. I mean, it doesn't help him when you do..." his voice trailed off into a whisper. I sighed and went over to him.

"I'll try, okay? I'll try to lay off him," I said, ruffling his hair. He swatted my hand away, smiling. I smiled back before I walked out the door.

"I'm comin' home late!" I called over my shoulder. I heard his reply. "Bring your own dinner. I'm cooking tonight!" I chuckled.

"Already covered," I muttered to myself. I climbed into the drivers seat and stuck the key in the ignition. But before I could start the engine, I caught movement coming from Ponyboy's room window. His window was low enough for me to see through it, and inside Ponyboy was lying on his bed, mindlessly throwing an old football up in the air and catching it. Letting out a sigh, I started the engine, roaring it to life and backed out of the driveway. I would talk to him today, and I would try my best to follow Soda's advice about not yelling. This was gonna be a long night.

Around 7:30 that night...

I finally pulled myself off the couch, joints popping as I did. I yawned and headed into the kitchen. I laughed quietly to myself, wondering what I could possibly make for dinner.

"Hey Pony!" I yelled toward our room.

"What?"

"Wanna give me some ideas on what I should make for dinner today?"

I heard him laugh loudly before he answered: "How about something normal for once?"

"Aw, Pone, you know that isn't gonna be fun to make! It's not even fun to eat!" I complained. He laughed again. I shook my head and turned to the refrigerator, looking inside for anything I could use. From behind me I heard the door open and close softly. Confused on why it didn't slam as usual, I got up and turned around. When I saw who it was, I smiled.

"Hey, you're home early," I said, turning back to the refrigerator. He didn't answer, but I heard the distinct sound of pans being pulled out of the drawer.

"Hey can you give me a hand with-" I started to turn around again, but before I could fully rotate myself, I felt the heavy impact of a frying pan smashing against my skull. I collapsed on the ground, too stunned to cry out in pain. I blinked furiously against the tears and dots that had formed in my vision, and stared up at him. He stared back at me, pan in his hand raised high and his eyes wild. Before I could get a question or anything out, he had kicked me in the ribs, hard enough to completely knocked the wind out of me. Something cracked, and I doubled over with an "oomph!", trying to catch my breath.

I couldn't even do that before a flurry of kicks and punches were aimed at me, hitting me where ever he could, pan forgotten. Soon I was yelling in agony, pleading for him to stop. But he continued, my pleas obviously ignored. Past my screams, I heard hurried footsteps running toward the kitchen and my name being called anxiously. They came from the hallway. Ponyboy.

"No! Pone-" I shouted, trying to get him to go back. I felt him grab the front of my shirt, pulling me up to my feet. When I was up, I was down again, mouth bleeding freely from his forceful punch.

I lay there, groaning, trying to find my voice. I clutched at my stomach, tears rapidly falling down my face, not stopping. A shadow loomed overhead, poised for the next attack. Just one move, and he would start again.

"NO! DARRY, STOP!" Ponyboy shouted from the doorway.

Darry turned away from me and faced Pony. No hesitation was shown; he was already going for our baby brother.

"No!"

At 8:56 that night...

I parked the truck in front of the house and slowly climbed out. I let out a soft groan as my back began to ache again, and it didn't help matters that I had to work late again tomorrow. Nonetheless, I got up those wretched, steep porch steps and opened the door.

"Pony! Soda! Where are ya-" my breath cut off as I tripped over something long and narrow. Confused, I got up and picked up the lamp.

"What the hell?" I muttered to myself as I turned around a surveyed the scene. Everything was out of place; chairs were knocked over, the couch was up against the wall, broken glass scattered on the floor. I slowly walked across the living room, hearing the crunch of the glass beneath my workboots. Everything was silent, but as I approached the kitchen, I heard ragged breathing.

"Soda?" I whispered, coming into the kitchen. "Pony?"

I looked around the dark kitchen, eyes adjusting. When I could see better, I glanced near the table, and stopped in my tracks.

A figure was sitting upright against one of the chairs that wasn't toppled over, arms above his head, wrists tied together. The rope was tied onto the chairs armrest, looking extremely tight. Another body was lying right in front of him, unconcious by the looks of it. He was curled up against the other, as if he were trying to protect him from whatever was here. With a jolt I realized that it was Soda and Ponyboy.

"Pony!" I exclaimed, immediately dropping down next to him. Ponyboy let out a scared whimper, no relief that I was here. His breathing became quicker, frightened. On closer inspection I saw that there was a gag in his mouth. I reached to take it off, but before I could even touch him, Pony flinched away from my hand.

"Ponyboy? Hey, it's okay. It's me. You're gonna be okay," I whispered, trying again. He stretched his head away from me as far as it would go, whimpering again.

"Pony, it's okay. I'm here," I said, bewildered that my baby brother was suddenly very terrified at the mere sight of me. I reached out to him again, and this time he didn't move away, but pinched his eyes tight when I stroked his forehead, as though waiting for me to hit him. Suddenly, his whimpers to turn into muffled sobs, and I was once again bewildered.

"Pony? What's wrong?" I asked, panic written in my voice. He just continued to cry, tears streaming from his shut eyes. I removed his gag while I asked, "What happened?" I winced at the harshness in my voice.

With the gag removed, Pony let out shaken breaths, eyes open wide and wet. "Please," he said almost inaudibly; I had to lean in so I could hear better. "Please. Don't hurt me anymore," his voice broke on the last word. "I didn't do anything wrong, I swear. Just don't hurt me anymore." His voice shook with every breath he took, utterly horrified.

I was, needless to say, completely speechless. And very, very panic-striken. Whatever attacked my brothers, Ponyboy thought it was me. My mouth opened and closed shut, no words coming out. Finally, after a moment, I said, "What are you saying? Tell me what happened!" I nearly shouted, thoughtlessly gripping his arms with unneccesary force. Ponyboy let out a yelp, and I dropped my hands. This is when I got a really good look at him; his hair was matted to his head with blood, fresh and nauseating. Almost every inch of his skin was purple from numerous bruises, and his shirt had been torn, showing a long gash across his chest. He was wearing shorts, so I could see the swollen right knee, and the badly cut up left one. I just looked away, disgusted; who would do such a horrible thing to my brothers? I remembered Pony's hands still being tied up, and I stood up. I walked over to the sink, grabbing a knife.

I went back to him, but when he saw the knife in my hand, he almost went physco. He started breathing even quicker gasps then before and his eyes nearly bulged out as he eyed the knife. I tried to ignore it as I ran the knife blade over the rope on his hands. Finally, the blade snapped up, completely cutting through the rope, and I dropped it to remove the rest of the rope; it fell with a clatter.

I wanted to wrap my arms around him, hold him close to me and tell him everything's going be okay. I wanted to reassure him that nothing was going hurt him while I was around. But he had half-crawled, half-dragged himself away from me, towards Sodapop, who was still lying still and motionless on the floor.

I made to move to Soda and pick him up, wanting to take him to the hospital. But Ponyboy's immediate reaction made me stop where I was. He grabbed Soda around his torso and hugged him close, as though shielding him from my sight.

"Don't you touch him!" he yelled with surprising courage. I stared at my brother in shock; his eyes- which were once before scared and wide- were now narrow and fierce, daring me to come any closer. He continued to glare at me, waiting.

In his arms, Soda let out a soft whimper and stirred uneasily. Ponyboy looked down at him and whispered a few reassuring words, rocking him ever so slightly. I tried to take one step forward, but Ponyboy's head shot up so fast it had me backtracking. He pulled Soda even closer, burying his face in his chest, not once removing his stare from me.

All I could do was stand there, unable to help my unconcious brother, let alone the one that was awake but refused to let me touch any of them. Finally, no other option left, I walked around the table, out of the kitchen and practically sprinted to the phone. I dialed so rapidly I had to keep hanging up and try again, messing up every time. When I finally got my hands to stop shaking and got the number right, I waited impatiently as the line rang.

"Yeah?" came the voice on the other end. I sighed in relief.

"Steve! Good, you're home," I spoke into the phone.

"Darry? Is that you?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, listen, I need you to come over now. It's Soda and Ponyboy, they're hurt, and Soda's unconcious. Pony won't let me touch Soda, and I think he's-"

"Whoa, Darry! Calm down," Steve said. "What's goin' on?"

"Ponyboy and Soda," I said urgently. "They're hurt, and I don't know why. Soda's unconcious. Pony won't let me near him. I need you to find Two-Bit and head on over here."

"Ok, Darry. On my way." I heard a click on the other end, and I knew that Steve had hung up. I slammed the phone down onto the reciever, barely registering the bang it made. I looked back toward my brothers. Ponyboy was still glaring at me, but Soda suddenly moaned and Pony looked back at him.

"Pony?" Soda whispered. "Pony...Pone..."

"I'm here, Soda," Ponyboy soothed, stroking Soda's forehead. "It's okay. Shhhh."

I watched them with a pang of fear. What had happened to them while I was away? And, what had Ponyboy meant by 'Don't hurt me anymore'?

Suddenly, I felt another sharp pang inside me as I realized what was going on. Was Ponyboy implying I did this? But how could I? I was at work all day!

"Pony..."

I looked back at Sodapop, watching as he struggled to move around, but Ponyboy's arms made sure he stayed secure. Soda's face pained, and he kept whispering Pony's name. Ponyboy kept reassuring him he was there. I tore my eyes away from them and they strayed to the window. How much longer until Steve and Two-Bit arrived?

"Darry..."

My head snapped back to my brothers. Soda's calling for me had startled me, and probably Ponyboy too. He looked back up at me and stared at me for once without fear or anger. Just pain. I was sure I was staring back at him with the same expression. Ponyboy was so afraid of me, and I was sure that once Sodapop stopped being delirious, he would be, too.

"Darry..."

Ponyboy thinks I did this to them...

"Darry..."

But what did I do?

"Darry..."

Okay, so that was the first chapter! I'm sorry to everyone who is a Darry fan, but all will be explained in later chapters. Or if you saw Supernatural already, you know what's happening. Well, I really need your opinions on this chapter. Should I continue? Do I need to work on this? What should I do?

Please tell me what you think and your advice if you have any, and be nice when you R&R! This is my first shot at a crossover.

BTW, I know the Outsiders and Supernatural are in completely different time periods, but since I'm too lazy to do it, just work it out so that it seems that they are, okay? Cool. =^.^=