The only time Ponyboy got out of bed on his own while he was sick was just after they had gotten home from the hospital, his fever finally slowing down. Soda had been on the porch, smoking and crying, mostly crying, and Darry in the kitchen washing the same plate for the fourth or fifth time. Pony just wandered into the living room looking dazed, holding onto the wall for support.

He asked where Johnny was, he needed him, a horrible feeling had settled in his gut and planted in his feverish mind that Johnny was hurt and he needed Pony.

It took Darry and Sodas combined efforts and almost a half hour of coaxing to get him back to bed where he fell into an uneasy sleep in Sodas lap still mumbling about how he needs to find his friend, or something bad would happen.

When his fever broke a day or so later he had no memory of the whole thing.