Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders. All rights belong to S.E. Hinton.

Hey Everyone! I'm starting a new story with each chapter from a different greaser's perspective. Also, I'm beginning to write a longer about Soda, which I hope to have the first chapter up tomorrow, so be on the lookout for that too. Please read and review!

Chapter 1: Ponyboy

Johnny Cade didn't mean much to some, but to me he meant the world. Johnny is my best buddy, my partner in crime, my brother, and I know we'll always stay that way. He's the kind of person who will put your worries before himself. We need more people like that in the world.

When I first met Johnny, I was seven and he was nine.

Darry took Soda and I down to the lot for the afternoon. He was meeting some of his football friends to play a game, and Mom and Dad agreed to let Soda and I tag along as long as Darry promised to keep an eye on us. He always did. He's real good about stuff like that.

Darry ran over to meet his friends, while Soda and I played on the swing set. I sat down on the swing and let Soda push me from behind.

"Higher Soda!" I yelled down to my brother. He pushed me up so high I felt like I could see our house from here. I couldn't, but in my young, naïve mind, anything was possible.

Soda kept pushing me higher and higher until I spotted a small body laying down on the bench. He was curled on his left side and rested his head in the crook of his arm.

"Stop Soda!" I commanded. He listened to my orders and stopped right away.

"What's the matter Pony?" Sodapop asked. "Didn't ya like the swing?"

"Look," I pointed. "Over there, there's a little boy. He looks like he's hurt."

Soda saw the fear in my eyes and followed me in a run over to the hurt little boy. We knelt in front of him and I gasped as I surveyed all the injuries this boy had suffered. He had a cut lip, an eye swelled up so bad he could barely see out of it, a scrape on his forehead, and numerous bruises up and down his arms.

"Hey," Soda reached out to the boy and gingerly touched his arm. "Are you okay?"

The boy tried to scoot as far away as possible from Soda's outstretched arm.

"It's okay," Soda said. The boy allowed Soda to place a hand on his shoulder. "We're not going to hurt you."

I saw the tears in the boy's eyes and he quickly blinked them away. I finally regained my voice back. Seeing this boy who looked about my age who got beat up so badly made my stomach flip.

"We want to help you. I'm Ponyboy." I pointed to myself, then to Soda. "And this is my brother, Sodapop. Can you tell us your name?"

"Johnny." He spoke so softly I could barely hear him.

"That's a great name." Soda smiled that smile that you just couldn't help but return. Johnny let a ghost of a smile appear on his face. "Can you tell us who did this to you?"

Johnny simply shook his head. "It's nothing."

"Soda," I spoke up. "Can we take Johnny home with us so Momma can clean him up?"

"Good idea, Pone. Lemme go tell Darry where we are so he won't get worried." I watched Soda jog over to where Darry and his friends were playing football and helped Johnny sit up. I noticed how Johnny winced when he sat up and cradled his left arm towards his side.

Johnny tried to protest coming home with us, but once Momma ran over to tend to his wounds I could see that he was grateful.

"What happened," she asked, cupping Johnny's cheek in her soft hand.

"This is Johnny, Momma," I said. "We met him at the park and he was hurt and we thought you could help him."

"Of course, I'll help you Johnny." Momma took him into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later. He looked better already. She had cleaned up the cuts on his face and wiped all the blood off him.

Momma went to go fix us some chocolate cake, and I noticed that Johnny looked uncomfortable and went to sit on the porch by himself. He just sat on the front step and picked at a loose thread on his tee shirt.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice making Johnny jump. I had decided to join him out here so we could talk in quiet. I lowered myself to sit next to Johnny and we sat there in silence for a few moments before I spoke up. "I'm real sorry about what happened to you."

"It's okay," Johnny spoke up. "It happens a lot."

"Tell me what happened," I prodded. "Maybe we can help."

Johnny shook his head no. "It's my old man-" He paused for a second to collect his thoughts. "He drank too much last night. Maybe it was my fault."

"No it wasn't," I reassured. "No Daddy should ever hit their son." I reached out my hand and laid it on Johnny's shoulder, and for the first time all day, he didn't jump. We just sat there until Momma called us in for cake. We didn't anything, but I still felt as if Johnny understood what I was saying. We didn't need words to have a conversation.

Seven years later, Johnny and I still didn't need words to talk. He got me, and I got him.

Johnny's voice interrupted my nostalgia. "What do ya think of that cloud Pony? That one looks like a horse." We were laying in the lot, watching the clouds and trying to find shapes in them. This was one of our favorite games to play. The other guys in our gang teased us for always having our heads in the clouds, but I didn't mind the jokes. Johnny got me and that was all that mattered.

"That's a cool one Johnny." I replied. I took a moment to study his face. There were still cuts on his face, and his arms still had bruises, but they were fading. His eyes were still big, black, and fearful but there were rare times when he was happy that they would sparkle like two pieces of black onyx.

I'm glad Johnny was my best. Even if I lived to be a hundred years old, Johnny would still be my best friend in the whole world. There was only one Johnny Cade and I was lucky enough to call him my best friend.