((Disclaimer- I own nothing :( Poem included was written by Robert Frost.

This is quite an old fic I wrote a few years ago. Methinks I could do better now but I'm still fond of it so please read and review ))

Nature's first green is gold,

Her hardest hue to hold.

The morning came crisp and still. I woke to the soft and rhythmic sounds of Soda's steady breathing. I cuddled up to him, warm under his limp arm. I could tell it was early. The house was still. I lay there, hiding my face in a mix of the pillow and Soda's shoulder until I heard the door shut from across the hall.

The familiar clatter of pans and dishes followed as Darry sleepily began to make breakfast.

Soda's eyes flickered as he grumbled and woke. I forced myself up, yawning, padding across to the window and pressing my clammy palms up against the icy glass. I watched as a pale film of mist spread from my fingers, framing my hands entirely, stained with golden sunshine.

Her early leaf's a flower,

Two-bit joined us for breakfast, though it was clear none of us were really hungry. Of course, Sodapop tried to lighten the mood and Two-Bit raised a few smiles, but they were all too strained, carrying a sort of unintentional bitterness. It was better not to smile at all.

Darry fussed over the creases in my shirt as Soda reluctantly put on Dad's old black suit. Darry should have worn it - it was much nearer his size than Soda's - but no one ever questioned him as he came out of his room with glassy eyes and the suit in his hands and passed it over. The smell of it still said Dad. We all missed Mum and Dad that day. Maybe even more so than usual.

But only so an hour.

We found Steve by the off-licence and no one teased as Soda greeted him with a tight hug.

The atmosphere was blacker than our clothes. I could hardly stand it any more. Loitering behind, I let the others walk on without me. I doubt even Darry realised. There were too many other things to think of. Too many other people to miss.

Turning the corner, I headed for the waste ground, wishing I could stumble across Johnny under a scattering of newspapers, gazing up at the clouds with that distant smile on his face that he always saved for marvelling at nature.. or Dally.

Then leaf subsides to leaf,

I didn't stay long. What was the point? He would never come. Wiping the tears off my cheeks I ran on, slowing as the corner shop came into view. It was shabby and in desperate need of a lick of paint, but what the hell kind of building didn't around here? I looked past the rotting window sill. It was selling gold. That's all that mattered.

Gold. In the form of petals, fanned out and spread lavishly like a crowd of waving hands, reaching up for the glass in front of them. Their heads tilted up on long green necks, to the morning sky. Ice-blue. Dally's eyes.

I never found out the name of those flowers, but they were perfect. I bought two.

So Eden sank to grief.

I had to run even faster to make sure I wasn't late. When I got to the church, Darry and Soda were waiting outside for me. Darry's face looked worn and tired, his fists were shoved deep in his pockets. Soda was pacing to and fro as he smoked.

They didn't question me as I reached them. Echoes of phrases snapped at me so often clung to my thoughts. Where the hell have you been? seemed to dominate, though it wasn't needed that day.

I felt sick as we entered the church. The last time I'd been there was when I went with Johnny in an act of , only to be humiliated by Soda, Steve and Two-Bit. I was only thankful that this church looked nothing like our hide-out on Jay Mountain. That place was a whole other world away, now.

When I closed my eyes I noticed the smells, so familiar, and the way our voices, muffled sobs, echoed over and over. A kid behind me coughed. The sound dragged me back to Windrixville to wake up in Johnny's arms. Wondering what the day would bring. So desperate to hear that long, low whistle that went up at the end; Dally bringing us back to civilisation.

Soda hiccoughed and my eyes flicked open, blurred and stinging. I listened intently to the sermon and to what everyone had to say. People in the movies make long speeches about how much they loved the guy in the coffin, but standing up in front of everyone without crying is harder than they make it look.

Darry did a small speech on our behalf. We had all wanted to say what Johnny and Dally had meant to us, but I think we all knew none of us would make it past one sentence without bawling. But, as ever, Darry was our rock. Our Superman. He stayed brave and strong and although his hardened expression reminded me of another funeral from not so long ago, I knew this time that he used it because he cared so much.

I recognised a few faces as we walked out into the grave yard. Tim and Curly Shepard had been listening in the entrance and made some pointless small talk about the weather with Two-Bit and Steve as some tired-eyed mother and her kid came up to me. I didn't know her but the kid I knew instantly. He'd bitten me in the fire on Jay Mountain... though I could hardly hold it against him.

Thank-yous and sorry-for-your-losses were given out like hot cakes. I forced another smile and failed to hold it as we reached the dug up earth that was our buddies' new home.

Soda turned and didn't watch, Two-Bit followed him, clapping a hand to his back and holding him. Steve stared at his feet. But I stood, Darry's sturdy hand on my trembling shoulder as we watched Johnny and Dally being lowered into the cold, damp ground.

Johnny's coffin was horribly smaller than I had expected.

Once the ceremony was over, the five of us sat in the orange and red leaves of a young birch tree, bare above our heads. Soda cried and Darry held him tight. Dazed, I rested my head against the tree trunk and stared down into the colourful and dying leaves. My golden flowers blended with them and it dawned on me as kind of ironic; Robert Frost had described coming into the world as golden. Now, like the birch leaves, Johnny and Dally were going out of it golden, too. Golden and gallant.

So dawn goes down to day

I spoke to Dally quietly. His grave lay side by side with Johnny's and I hoped they would've liked that. Dallas would have protested against being buried in a churchyard, I reckon, but he had died to be with Johnny so that's where we put him. Together, they faced west- out of line with the rest of the yard, but when I'd shown Darry Johnny's letter, he wouldn't back down until the priest agreed- so Dally could look at a sunset like Johnnycake had asked. If Dallas were still here I would've reminded him of the good in this world but something tells me he still would have done what he did.

When I put my first flower at the bottom of his name plaque I could almost hear him cuss me for being so sissy. I can't imagine anyone had ever given Dallas Winston a flower in his life.

Huh. Dallas Winston, gold? It didn't seem to fit. Perhaps he was golden in a different way. Golden in Johnnycake's eyes. And in mine, Johnny was golden through and through. I told him so as I patted down the loose soil at the foot of his stone and laid down my last flower. There it read:

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Johnny Cade