A/N: OMG! My first long completed story! The angst is just killing me, guys. My Harry Potter story is angst now too, so there's no escape! I would love some fluffy one-shot ideas/prompts to get me less depressed, if anybody has ideas for any of my fandoms.

Anyways, I want to thank everyone who read or reviewed this story, especially HarmonyWinters and ClosetSlashFiend. I'm certainly not done with this pairing, so keep eyes open in the future. Without further ado, I present the final chapter of Do It For Johnny.

No. It couldn't be true. I had thought I had enough time to go to the rumble and then get back and see him one last time… He couldn't be gone yet. But as I stood there with Pony, he looked so pale and still that I thought for sure Johnny was dead.

"Hey, kid," I whispered, stepping quietly into the hospital room where Johnny was lying face-down.

"Hey, Dal," he replied weakly, trying to smile and almost succeeding.

"Why is it I'm always visiting you in the hospital, huh?"I said as I knelt next to him. His only response was a short exhalation of air that could have been a laugh, if he had the strength. "I'm going to the rumble, Johnny, okay?"

"Dal – no – " he began, but I cut him off.

"Johnny, I've got to do this. I'm doing it for you, don't you get it?"

"It's useless," Johnny croaked. "Please, Dally…"

"Johnny, please. I need you to keep going for me, okay? Don't give up, kid," I squeezed his hand, and he paled and gasped. "Shit – did I hurt you?"

He moved his head a fraction of an inch to the side, as much as he could without more pain. "Nah… it don't matter. I love you, Dally,"

Sitting there, looking at him, I couldn't say it. I rarely said it anyway, it just wasn't my style. I knew I should, I knew I might never get another chance. But after the way he had just said it to me, I couldn't do it. It wouldn't mean 'I love you' anyway – it would mean goodbye.

"Johnnycake?" I asked, begging that he would answer. "Johnny?"

Thank God. His eyes opened slowly, and he stirred for a second and then said, "Hey."

With a sigh of relief, and breathing pretty hard, I said, "We won." He didn't react. "We beat the Socs. We stomped them – chased them outa our territory."

Johnny gave a rattling breath and then said, "Useless… fighting's no good…"

Why didn't he get it? Why didn't he understand I had done it for him? "They're still writing editorials about you in the paper. For being a hero and all." Johnny's eyes flickered towards me. My heart wouldn't stop beating too fast. "Yeah, they're calling you a hero now and heroizin' all the greasers. We're all proud of you, buddy." I hoped to God he didn't hear my voice shaking.

His cracked lips split into a grin. Then his eyes moved to a spot behind me. "Ponyboy."

Shit. I had almost forgotten the kid was there. He stepped closer – Johnny's voice was fading.

"Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold…"

And just like that the life was gone. I couldn't explain it, I had seen people die before but I had never noticed that loss of energy, the way his body sank into the bed just a little and his skin seemed the tiniest bit darker.

I swallowed hard and pushed his hair back away from his face. I had to say something, anything to stop myself from thinking, so I started with "Never could keep that hair back…" and somehow ended with "That's what you get for tryin' to help people, you little punk, that's what you get…"

Fuck it, he was gone… he was gone and he hadn't said goodbye to me because I hadn't given him the chance. I'd heard people say, when talking about suicide or murder or people just plain going crazy – "something snapped" – but I'd never known what they'd meant until then. Something was ripping, tearing deep inside my chest and I couldn't make it stop, and I wanted to pick Johnny up and shake him and kiss him and breathe the fucking life back into him as if that could make it okay.

I didn't notice leaving the hospital room, or hitting anything, but the next thing I knew my knuckles were bleeding and I was in the car and crying and whispering "Johnny, please don't die," over and over and over. I wasn't sure where I was driving and I couldn't see the road too good, but I kept going until the car pulled into a grocery store parking lot, seemingly of its own accord.

There was another minute I didn't remember then, but I did remember walking into the grocery store and fingering the gun I had hidden inside my jeans jacket. I didn't really ever make a conscious decision to rob the store, but there I was holding the gun up to the clerk and asking for the money, halfway begging him to refuse so I would have a reason to shoot and maybe then it would stop, maybe it wouldn't hurt so bad…

But he gave me the money and I left, and I heard him calling the cops as I walked out the door. I didn't bother with the car, I just ran for the nearest pay phone and called Darry.

I wasn't sure why I asked for help, it wasn't like it would matter anyway. But he agreed to meet me in the lot to hide me, so I started heading that way. I ran and ran, and the burning in my chest turned into something less deep and more physical as I ran out of breath and still didn't stop. I think it was then that the idea really hit me – the idea that this new pain in my chest, this physical pain, was so much easier to deal with. And that idea turned into a plan as the lot came into view.

On the far side, I saw the gang, and behind me, I heard sirens.

It was in the moment I came under the streetlight that I knew what I had to do, and in that same moment that I did it. It would make it stop hurting – actually, it would hurt like hell, but not really, and hopefully not for very long. It would end it, if all went well… and I was Dallas Winston and there was no way it wouldn't go well.

I pulled the gun from under my jacket and raised it at the cops.

I think I was aware of what was going on around me for a second even after I was dead, so maybe Johnny was right about souls and all that crap. Either way, I saw the cops coming towards me, and heard the shots keep going even after I stopped feeling the pain. I saw the gangs' faces and watched Steve crumple and Soda catch him, and then I saw Pony sway and, as he fell to the ground and blacked out, so did I.

I don't know how much time passed before the darkness lifted. It could have been a second or maybe years, or maybe time stopped mattering. I do know that the first thing I saw was Johnny's face.