Johnny was dead.

It was almost terrifying to hear his last breath, the way he went pale and still against the sheets. It wasn’t right.

You and Pony watched Dally run out of there like it was all he knew how to do. Pony was stock-still, but you managed to run after him before he could get in the car.

”What the hell do you think you’re doin’, kid?” Dally said, almost hiding the wobble in his voice. He’d just seen the kid he cared about die. He was upset— no, furious. ”G-go with pony, or whatever the hell you wanna do.”

You knew something was terribly wrong with Dally, and that gun in his car wasnt making you feel any safer for yourself or him.