Nothing But A Blood Stain

Chapter One

The Visitor

Authors's Note:

I don't own anything. All rights to the Outsiders goes to S.E. Hinton. Oh, and I know that Darry shares his middle name with his father but I had it changed it so I could distinguish the two.

After waking up, I ran near the kitchen to get something to eat but then heard the door bell rang so I just grabbed a Pepsi and sauntered over to the door with my little brother.

We looked out the window and saw who was out there. We exchanged looks of confusion, this was someone that we both have never seen before so who was it?

He wasn't tall but not really short, probably a little over 5 and a half feet. He had a slight build to him and was close to my little brother's size, except this boy was just a little taller and leaner than him. He had light brown hair that was a little shorter than mine. And it was flat and was combed off to the side with grease whatsoever. His eyes were green and on he held an uncomfortable and unsure gaze on his face as if he was looking for someone or something.

He was dressed in some pretty tuff clothes; nice dark pants and cool blue shirt with a white sweater. He didn't dress like anyone around here. His clothes looked like they were pretty expensive; to us at least, but he didn't seem like a Soc to me.

I did notice a ring in the boy's hand. I wasn't too sure if it was a diamond or one of the fake kind, but it looked like it was real to me. For a while there, Ponyboy was staring at it.

I felt uneasy around him, and I noticed the suspicious almost dangerous look to his face.

It may have been a bad idea, but we opened the door to greet him. Funny, all three of us had confused expression that matched.

"Hello?" I finally asked.

He looked at us back as if he weren't expecting to see us and then glanced to his sides. He looked back at this piece of paper he held in front of him like at a map, or something. He had a big back pack with him and like a suitcase, I didn't like where this was going.

I looked closer at him...But this guy looked like he was 15 years old or something.

What does he want? To sell us something? Somehow, I knew that wasn't the case.

By now my older brother came trudging down to the door and looked at our visitor similar to how we did to him.

"Can we help you, sir?" He was real polite when it came to strangers that didn't strike him quite as dangerous. When he took notice of all the luggage the boy carried, he looked real suspiciously at him.

"Uh, yeah," his voice was either half-hearted or without conviction, I really couldn't tell which.

"I'm looking for a man named Darrel Phillip Curtis."

My brother's and I all exchanged looks of shock. They didn't last long but we all looked back at him without answering. Again, he looked at us in that held a perplexed expression. But it seemed like he really didn't expect us to help him out at all.

What does he want with Dad? Why would he be looking for him when died over a year ago?

I looked back at my little brother; he wasn't just shocked, he looked mortified. I remember our parents funeral…I remember him bawling his eyes out the day before…I did too. Though Dare seemed to take it better, none of us ever wanted to be reminded of their deaths. I remember how hard it was for him; for a while he would get a real sad look on his face whenever he saw me and Dare. Why? Because we were so much like them. But why wouldn't we be, right? They're our parents.

Johnny and Dally's death didn't help with that either. They didn't have funerals, big surprise there. But it was good thing because a funeral would only make it harder for us. And besides, even if Johnny had a funeral, we probably - no definitely wouldn't get invited. If he did have a funeral, Two-Bit might've gotten drunk and crashed the party or something of the sort.

There was something eerily familiar about this person. Now that I think about it, his gray eyes really did look an awful lot like Pony's.

"Excuse us, but what's your name?"

"My name?" his eyes trailed off for a while.

"It's Allen Ray Curtis."

...

Man, if Soda didn't want to come to work today, he could've told me. Or at least called instead of bailing out on me. Without his ass around here I had to work a helluva lot harder, especially since there were so much girls coming in here. They'd go to the gas station and jump out of there cars with a real big grin on their faces, looking for something. It really pisses me off that so much girls go here just to see that boy. Oh well, I guess I should be used to this by now, I mean I've only been his friend for like 6 years right? But it was worst when Soda didn't come to work and I did - their grins would fade away and they'd usually leave without even doing anything.

What the hell? This is a fuckin' gas station, not somewhere you can go to just flirt.

Damn the boss man was smart for hiring me and Soda, he knew Soda wouldn't really want to work here if I didn't and he knew I was probably one of the best young mechanics he could find. He also saw the effect Soda had on here, before he hired us he was so going outta business - we saved his butt. But at least he wasn't so bad, generally a nice guy, but still, that was real slick of him.

So I guess I felt a bit better right before leaving. Not too long ago, I met quite a few girls and did my fair share of flirting. Needless to say, two of these girls weren't the best of friends and started arguing.

There would have been nothing worse than for them to be fighting over me just because Soda wasn't here; but I've never seen these girls before. A lot of girls who go here don't stop by just once, they'll come over here more and more times. Other girls will catch on and will be like (why does she go there all the time?) So with more girl customers, comes with even more. I guess I should be happy about that, he is my friend after all, but sometimes it was just plain ridiculous.

Anyway, these girls started making a stupid fuss over me. I didn't care so much because I didn't like either of them all that much. I'm all for watching girls fight over something really stupid, like a boy, but when they started pullin' their claws out, then I'm like, "fuck this shit".

I drove home from work, well not my home but it may as well be.

I opened the door and went into the living room. I saw a random kid sitting in the sofa, not doing anything.

Who the hell is that!

He looked kinda like Baby Curtis in age, size, and general appearance. He had lazy look about his face and hair that a greaser could have, only there wasn't a drop of grease in it. But his clothes, they looked like they were something a Soc would wear. Already I felt like was gonna really hate this kid. But for some reason I didn't bother say anything. Now I felt a cold wave about in the air, it made me feel sick.

And there, across the room was Ponyboy who seemed to be deeply engrossed in a book. Knowing I'd make some remark about how pale the kid was right now, he got up and left. Though not without shooting me a glare that so clearly stated the words: What do you want, Steve? I don't have time to deal with you.

I would've hit the kid square in the cheek if Soda didn't catch my hand. (Damn that kid's lucky.) I was about holler at Soda when I saw his face, but…He had an expression that I've never seen from him. I had no anger or hatred, it was however grave and filled with anxiety.

Before I could say anything, he said, "Steve…We need to talk."

He led us into the kitchen and in a hushed voice I said, "What the hell, man? Why didn't you go to work? What's wrong with the kid and who the hell is that in the living room?"

He didn't respond for the longest time and it was starting to scare the shit outta me.

I grabbed his shoulders and looked him in the eye, "What the hell's going on here, Soda?"

After seeing Steve, I knew he'd only make things worse. I ran to our room and locked the door. I held that book with me. Soda and Steve probably think that I've been reading but instead, I had a picture of our family when it was still whole.

Dad… I was trembling fiercely.

I remember our dad. He was nice and smart; he looked so much like Darry but had Soda's charm. He was great at running, football, and loved working on cars, if I remember correctly. I know he and Mom used to read us stories when we were young, and he almost never stopped grinning.

I remember the time I won my first track run, he was there. The time Darry won the district championship for football, he was there. I remember how proud he was when he heard Soda was trying to get a job (just a few months before he and Mom both died). The distinct way he used to laugh, the look in his eyes. How he could always get everyone laughing; how his joyous resolve never died no matter how hard things could get. He could make you smile no matter what. And he sure was proud of all of us.

I also remember how he and mom died…I was so horrified; I can only imagine how my face looked like. I remember being in that funeral, and that I was crying the whole night before. But at that day, I was all out, if that was even possible. I couldn't bear the thought of them being gone just like that.

I remember it all, but then why don't remember this? Did mom know before she died? How 'bout Darry? Soda? Did he keep it a secret from all of us? Or did he tell somebody about it? I want to know!

I looked onto the picture, (Dad…How? ...Why?) I plead out hoping to God someone would answer.

The silence was deafening...

"Steve!" He finally responded to me. He looked at me angry and irritated; a look that had never been directed to me by him.

"That kid…" his voice was quiet and low. "He's…" his eyes started to well up and I detected disappointment and disbelief from his voice, though this was not towards me.

"Soda?" I asked out of concern.

"He's…He's our half brother…"