Hi! I'm GG and this is my first Outsiders story!

I'm so excited to put this up! I've been thinking about this idea for awhile. I've always wanted to read some story where Pony wasn't related to Darry or Soda and had no relations with the gang. I found some but none really fancied me.

So I decided to make and AU of my own! I hope you enjoy it!

The setting is 1966. That's around the time of the story. It's during the school year too. Dally and Johnny are still alive!


Ponyboy: 14

Soda: 16 (close to 17)

Darry: 20

Dally: 17

Two-Bit: 18

Johnny: 16

Steve: 17

Special thanks to XxCheshireSmilexX! Without her this would never EVER be up! She also makes awesome Outsiders stories!

Disclaimer: The Outsiders is owned by S. E. Hinton. If I owned it Dally and Johnny wouldn't have died!

He hated it. His life that is.

He hated thinking about it. He hated it when he woke up, all throughout the day until he went to bed. He hated the sights, the smells, the sounds, the tastes, and the feelings.

He just couldn't deal with it anymore. The only thing he hated more than his life was himself, because he was stupid enough to believe that things would get better.

His name was Ponyboy Stinson. After the incident, he'll only go by Ponyboy.

It sounded normal. It was like a regular family name. If you saw it in the phone book you would never guess the cruel people living with it.

It started on July 22, 1952. Mrs. Brenda Stinson had just giving birth to a baby boy. It was amazing how simple and danger free it was since she had been drinking and smoking during the pregnancy.

But everything was fine; no difficulties at all. Now she was in recovery. The nurses would ask her from time to time if she would like to hold her child. Every time she gave the same answers and excuses. She felt tired and soar, she just wanted to sleep, she would after she ate, etc. The truth was, Brenda just didn't want to.

When they asked her what they would like to name her child she tiredly waved them off and said it was up to her husband. Mr. Richard Stinson was in the waiting room. The nurses would tell him he was a loud to visit his wife or even see his child, but he wanted to stay where he was.

He probably couldn't get too far anyways. In his drunken and high state of mind, everything was confusing and disorienting. That's why it wasn't the best idea to give him the choice to choose the baby's name.

On the radio playing in the lobby, the talk show people were talking about a rodeo coming up. A new pony coming in was the big talk.


'The kid was a boy, right?'



That was good enough for him. In his hazed state, he wrote it down and handed it to the nurse. The woman blinked at it once, gave him a strange look, and then just walked away.

And he became Ponyboy.

It has been 13 years since that day and the only people who have said his name were his teachers.

His parents wouldn't look at him or talk to him. Hell, he doesn't even think they knew he exists.

When he was young, he'd see happy families at the park. They would be hugging each other and laughing. Pony would try to put himself in the place of the kid that was getting attention. As time went on, he gave up and accepted the fact that that couldn't be him. He didn't know what he did but in someone's eyes, he didn't deserve something like that. Love was meant to be foreign to him.

However, no matter how cruel his parents were, he couldn't find it in himself to hate them completely. And that's what made him so mad.

"Oh Richie that last hit was the best! Come on, I'm ready now! Let's go out! Let's get more!"

"Hold on babe, let me finish here."

Pony walked out of his room and peaked around the corner of the hall that lead to the living room. There he saw his parents getting high. Again. This wasn't new at all. Pony was pretty much raised with this. The kisses and hugs, that wasn't normal. Ignoring him, leaving the house late at night, coming back late in the morning, getting high, being wasted, maybe not even coming home for days; that was normal. He hated but accepted it.

Pony was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn't hear his parents moving towards him until it was too late.

"Come on baby I don't even care about the drugs anymore, just take me to the bedroom! Let's do it right now! I need it so bad! Give it to me hard!"

"Heh, you're such a needy bitch aren't you? Well, if that's what you want then that's what you're gonna get. I'm gonna fuck you so har-who the hell is this?"

Ponyboy eyes widened when he saw shadows covering the area in front of him. His gaze wandered slowly upwards until they rested on his dad's.

He was too shocked to move.

'They're looking at me.' his mind couldn't wrap around it. This was the first time they actually paid any attention to him.

With that in mind, he was frozen to the spot.

"Hey brat he's talking to you!"

A shove sent him to the ground. Ponyboy quickly directed his attention to his mom.

'She touched me.' that thought put a small smile on his face. Is this what it was like for the other kids?

"Fucker, wipe that look off your face!" the kick to his cheek made him spit up blood.

A new feeling washed over him. This wasn't what he saw in the park or after school. Those kids are happy. This feeling, this was,


'This can't be happening.' he thought as a hand grabbed his shirt and lifted him up.

"You're working for them aren't you!? Fuckers trying to still my drugs!"

The next hit was aimed at his stomach. It left him gasping for air.

"This will teach them not to steal from me!"

His dad reached into his pocket and brought out a switchblade. Pony stared at it with horror as it came closer to his face.

"Yeah baby, finish him off!"

"Shut up, bitch!"

In that split moment, where his dad turned towards his mom, Pony bolted down the hall to his room.

Ponyboy managed to close and lock the door before the footsteps got closer and the pounding started.

He knew he didn't have much time. He couldn't stay here anymore. This could never work. This family wasn't even a family at all.

As of now, he was wearing a gray hoodie with a puke green colored t-shirt underneath it; ripped, old jeans; and worn out white converses.

He grabbed an old yet small bag out of his closet and through in a red t-shirt and an extra pair of jeans.

Pony looked around frantically for money to use as the pounding on the other side of the door grew in ferocity until it made a small crack in it.

As he was looking further back into his closet, he saw something strange.

It was a chest. A chest he never saw before.

He took it out carefully and studied it. When he opened the top what was inside both shocked and sent relief through his body.

It was filled with drugs and a shit load of money.

'This must be dad's stash.'

Another crack made on the door knocked him out of his stupor. He quickly pocketed the money and made a beeline towards his window. He took one last long look at his room, knowing he'll never come back here ever again. This was the last time he would ever see it. Once he left, there was no going back.

The door finally caved in and Richard marched through with a crazy look in his eyes, Brenda right behind him.

Pony took that as a sign to leave and jumped onto the tree next to him. He quickly climbed down and ran as if his life depended on it because at the moment, it did.

He could vaguely hear in the distance his dad yelling at him, but he didn't care anymore. He felt freer than he ever did in a long time.

However, when he made it to the empty park he stopped to catch his breath. Something didn't feel right. He just left his parents; his family. It nauseated him for a minute. He sat on a bench to keep his head from spinning.

He couldn't go back, he knew that. He had to make another plan.

That feeling would never go away though.

Pony remembered a bus stop a few blocks down. He walked there slowly and then bought a ticket when he arrived.

He didn't know where. Anywhere was fine as long as it wasn't here.

His bus arrived 10 minutes later. No one questioned him. No one even looked at him. He was used to that though.

That night he never once looked behind him knowing that if he did, he would go back.

Time Skip

It's been a year. A whole year since he ran away. A whole year since he became homeless.

He was now 14.

That shit load of money he stole from his dad. It didn't last as long as he thought it would. Sleeping outside with your few belongings in views of others was a very bad idea.

Someone took half of the money that he had. The other half was used up quickly.

He has been all over the place in that last year. He never really left the South, but he made it fine coming across small towns.

He's learned a few things while being on his own.

One was how to pick pockets and steal. Pony wasn't really proud of this, but he did what he had to do to survive.

He learned how to find shelter during storms, how to hitchhike, and how to wash himself without using a shower or bathtub.

Most of all, he's learned how to be invisible. He's been to a lot of towns during his time running away and not one seemed to question. Maybe the first one a little bit, but he learned how to play his situation off.

In that year he hadn't smiled much.

From time to time again he wondered about home, how his parents were doing, etc.

He could never go back though. He didn't even think he could call it home anymore.

Pony has learned to be a daydreamer since there was nothing else to do. His day dreaming almost made him miss the announcement of the last stop the bus was taking.

He sighed,

"Well Tulsa, Oklahoma, here I come."

You'd never think Richard and Brenda Stinson would have a higher up, a boss if you will. Oh but they did. And this meeting wasn't going so well.

A punch to Richards face sent him reeling back. Two men wearing dark suites pulled him back up to his feet before another punch was aimed for his stomach.

Another man standing in the background held his hand up telling his men to stop. His rings and gold watch sparkled in the lamp light that was by the window.

Brenda was near the doorway. Her face was pale and blood pooled around her. Her chest was no longer in spasms for air. She'd been shot dead.

"Please, Mr. Cook, I don't know where the money could have gone too!"

Mr. Cook quietly walked over to Richard. As they stared at each other he sent a blow to the others cheek with his right knee. The other coughed up the blood that was pooling in his mouth.

"Don't lie to me Richie. I know about your wife and your little…..habit. I shouldn't be surprised to see all of it gone."

Mr. Cook grabbed Richard by the hair harshly and tugged him up to eye level.

"Now here's what you're gonna do. I don't know who you gave the money too, but you better tell me now. If you don't I'll have my boys over here," he gestured to the large men in the corners, "beat it out of you. However, you could make this a lot easier if you simply told me where it went. If you do, I'll let you live, plain and simple."

Richard stared at him with horror in his eyes.

"I'm telling you Mr. Cook I don't know-" before he could finish Mr. Cook shook him roughly.

"I don't want to hear 'I don't know' or 'I can't' come out of your mouth again. Do you need more persuasion?"

Mr. Cook held out his hand which one of the men placed something in it. The blade was switched open and dragged clumsily over Richard's neck.

Richard shuddered in fear.

"Now come on Richie," Mr. Cook said, "think harder for me."

And Richard did. He traveled in his mind, struggling for the answer.

He knew he left the money in a chest in the bedroom down the hall. He can't think of anyone that could've taken it, though!

His eyes drifted towards Brenda lying lifelessly on the ground, Richard couldn't help but think that that's going to be him next.

His eyes then gazed towards the hallway leading towards the room. Something happened there. Something that sparked some recognition in his brain.

He remembered always seeing someone in the house. Someone short and young looking. Someone like…

The kid.

There was a kid in this house. What was his name again? It was an animal. Dog, cat, bird, bull, horse; wait horse! Or was it horse? It felt like something else.

The blade dug deeper into his skin.

No it wasn't horse it was like…a pony. Ponyboy! That was the name! The kid lived here. That was his room!

"Mr. Cook it was a kid! A kid named Ponyboy!"

Mr. Cook came closer to his face. "Don't lie to me boy."

With tears in his eyes Richard screamed "NO! I swear to God it was a kid name Ponyboy! He lived here in the same room with the money in it!"

Mr. Cook stared in his eyes. "Where is he now?"

"I don't know…" Richard whimpered out.

Mr. Cook growled "You don't know!?"

"He ran away a year ago! Oh God I promise! Please! I don't want to die!"

The tears spilled down his face now as Mr. Cook gave him a glare and then a bone-chilling smile.

"Now was that so hard? Ponyboy was it? I'll send my men after him right away." He let Richard drop to the ground with a thud.

Richard, too paralyzed to move, just stayed there.

"Thank you, Mr. Cook!"

Mr. Cook stopped halfway to the door and tilted his head, "I think you're mistaking Richard. You still let my money get away. I'm not letting you go easy. Finish him boys."

Richard stared at him in shock and screamed in terror as one of the men pointing a gun at his head. One shot was fired.

One man still standing in the corner turned towards Mr. Cook.

"What should we do now, Boss?"

"Hmm?" he drawled for a long while. "Find the boy. When you do call me. Then we'll make further plans."

The man nodded and walked off.

Mr. Cook walked towards his car and looked out the window as they drove off.

"Ponyboy, hmm? What a unique name. You won't be missing for long Ponyboy. We're coming for you," a deep, throaty chuckle followed.

I hope you enjoyed it! Please review/favorite/follow!

I'm hoping chapter 1 will be out soon!

Bye for now loves!