A/N: I recently read the outsiders and got sucked into the world of greasers and socs (sosh's). I was reading some it that type of fanfiction when I came upon one author. Goldengreaser. Not only was her work FABULOUS It was touching and beautifully written. She didn't want to continue with her story "Respirations and Resuscitations" so here I am, fostering the story. Gee I hope I don't disappoint Goldengreaser, because that would just kill me.

Darry looked in on his brother. Ponyboy was sleeping. It seemed he did that a lot lately. Apparently after a head injury fatigue was very common. The only problem was with Ponyboy it never seemed to stop. He slept more hours then he spent awake. It was not like he could help it but still…..

Darry stepped into the dimly lit room. Illuminated in the dim streetlight out the window his brother looked like any other nineteen year old guy, maybe better. Everyone said Sodapop was a real looker and he and Pony looked just alike. It was a shame really.

Before the accident, as Darry had come to refer to it, Ponyboy might have been a real ladies man. It seemed that girls liked all that sensitive jazz that Pony seemed into. That wasn't a possibility now. Ponyboy couldn't even tell you what a poem was anymore, much less write one. "It's such a shame," People would say, "Such a nice boy."

Dead but not dead,. An adult but not an adult; for the rest of his life Ponyboy would be stuck in the middle somewhere. As for Darry he was stuck with him. He could give Ponyboy over to the state, institutionalize him. It would be easier really, the state was already hounding him to do that.

But if he were really honest with himself, Darry would say that he could not live with that decision. Ponyboy was his brother, family. "You just don't forget blood." There dad would say. "Friends come and go son but your brothers will always be your brothers. Nothing can change that."

And Darry knew that even after all these years his father had been dead, the same was still true. Ponyboy was, and would always be, his baby brother. Maybe it was selfishness, maybe guilt for his role in the accident, but Darry couldn't let him go. He simply couldn't.

The days were hard. He worked and worked under the hot son while his brother was in an adult day program. Then at night he came home to a virtual toddler in a teenager's… no adult's body. It was difficult to say the least. Dressing Pony, bathing Pony, cleaning his shit up when he forgot to use the bathroom, feeding him. it was a full time job, one that left Darry more stressed then roofing ever did.

But in the end, Darry knew he couldn't blame his brother. If the accident had taught him anything it was to be more patient, more understanding. He had to learn to control his temper. He could not let every little thing bother him. Life would be even harder if he did. Besides he owed his brother…..

Ponyboy moaned slightly. Darry rushed to his side, pulling away from his thoughts. "Not a seizure not a seizure, please…"

Ponyboy opened his eyes and yawned. "Groggy he's just groggy."

Darry sat on the edge of the bed as his brother sat up. "Hey buddy, you ready to get up. I have breakfast ready to fix."

Ponyboy simply smiled at him and Darry had his answer. He walked over to the lamp and pulled the cord. The room brightened as Darry got a look at the cloak. 6 : 30. They were running right on schedule.

"Okay buddy lets get you something to wear. Any ideas?"

"Blue."

"Blue jeans?" Darry asked hoping he had caught his brother's meaning well enough.

Ponyboy nodded. "Blue."

"Okay, what else? What else are you supposed to wear?"

Ponyboy didn't answer. He swung his legs back and fourth. He had very little concentration, or at least in the mornings. Sometimes it got better when the day progressed, if Darry was lucky.

"Do you wear a shirt Ponyboy? Do you wear a shirt with blue jeans?"

"PONYBOY." Ponyboy's head shot up. He nodded.

"Good job kiddo." Darry walked over to the bureau and pulled out some of Soda's old blue jeans, a faded white undershirt and a red flannel. "You ready?"

Ponyboy nodded. He held out his arms overtop his head and Darry pulled off his old undershirt placing the new one all. He got on his knees and helped Ponyboy into his pants pulling them up to his waist. He tickled him on the stomach. Ponyboy laughed and fell over backwards. Darry reached over and tickled him some more.

The smile that filled his brother's face curved Darry's sour mood. It reminded him of something very important. His brother was alive. His brother was aware enough that he could be happy; he could live a good life. Maybe it was not the life any of them wanted for Ponyboy. Maybe it wasn't the life he wouldn't have had without the accident. But it was a life and it was living. Nothing ever made Darry more comfortable with his decision than this. Because Darry couldn't help but remember a time when they thought his brother was going to die, would never be able to have a life at all.

Ponyboy giggled and squirmed. Darry found himself smiling as his brother wiggled under his fingertips. Darry had always loved tickling his younger brother. He was as ticklish as the day he was born and the reaction had always been there. It made him feel better about the whole thing.

Darry laughed and relented. He helped Ponyboy up. "Come on kiddo. Lets get that mop of your cleaned up." He smoothed Pony's hair.

Pony grinned. "Messy."

"Yeha kid, it is." Ponyboy stood up and bounced on his heels.

"Darry come on." He pulled on Darry's wrist. Darry forced another smile and followed his brother to the bathroom. He picked up a comb and ran it through Ponyboy's hair, adding a little grease to keep it in place. "He'll need a haircut soon."

"There you go kid. Now what do you say to some chocolate cake?"

"I like cake. Its good."

"Yeha buddy it is." And so started another long day for Darrel Curtis.