Well this is my first Outsiders fanfic, probably going to be a one-shot, shout out to Begonias for the idea and help, oh and it's all in Ponyboy's POV
I was in a bad mood. I lit a cigarette and instead of thinking of good times I thought of the bad ones, the bad ones are the ones that make me feel better. Two immediately crosses my mind, Johnny's death 4 years ago, and 3 years ago when fucking Uncle Sam called for Sodapop. I remember where I was, just finished a Paul Newman movie, why do shit things always happen when a watch a Paul Newman movie? Anhyways, when Sodapop came up to me, cigarette in his mouth, I knew something was up, Soda never smoked unless something bad had happened, that's when he told me he got called for the draft, I cried for hours, Darry pretended not to cry but I heard him sob in the bathroom. When he was leaving, the last words he said to me were "don't you worry nothing about me Pony, I'll kill a Chink or two and be back before you can count to ten."
Well its been more than counting to ten, matter of fact 3 motherfucking years since I haven't seen Soda, nor Steve for that matter who also got called. That's when two-bit asked me to go to the movies, I asked him what we were gonna see he told me "no fucking clue, we'll just sneak in and see whatever's on." Well turns out WUSA is playing, which is great because I read the novel. I notice two-bit isn't up to his usual jokes, seems kinda said, very distracted. Once the movie is over he offered to take me home.
Once we arrive I find something that changed my life forever. Steve and Darry at our house. I knew something was up, I knew I shouldn't have watched that fucking Paul Newman movie.
"We have something to tell you" starts Steve.
"Oh no you fucking don't, please tell me this is a prank" I say, cutting him off.
"I wish" he whispers, tears in his eyes, in the back two-bit and Darry are already crying. Steve pulls out a box.
"Is…is this Soda?" my voice is cracking.
"No they never found his body, a grenade got him" two-bit says.
"Im so sorry" starts Steve.
"No, none of that bullshit, its not your fault" Darry tells him.
"But it was" replies Steve, who is now sobbing, "I was the one they picked for the draft, not him, the night they told me I was scared, I called Soda and asked him to sign up with me, he did, the fucker did."
Silence, no one said anything, Darry and two-bit were stunned, they didn't know euther I guess. That's when I sympathized with Steve, Soda was everything for us.
I tackled Steve in a hug and told him, "its not your fault, if Soda was happy to go with you, he never regretted any of this, neither should you."