Author's Note: This was formerly planned to be a one shot, but I was encouraged to keep going and had some great help with re-beta-ing, so it is going to be about the whole week Pony's gone, all from Soda's POV.
Please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of S.E.Hinton's charcters...; Descriptions taken from the movie by F.F. Coppola

Fateful Night

Darry's fist landed hard against the doorframe, followed by swearing, which was so rare with Darry. I had the feeling the whole house was shaking. But in fact, it was only me shaking.

Darry had hit Ponyboy. I knew he hadn't meant to, but it had still happened. And it surely hadn't helped to improve Pony's opinion about Darry. Pony felt like Darry didn't love him, like Darry didn't care about him the way he cared about me. That wasn't true. Darry loved our kid brother a lot. And he was worried about Pony a lot. He just wasn't capable of showing it.

And he had so many worries himself. He worked hard – too hard – to earn money so we could stay together, so that Pony could finish school and go to college, do what Darry couldn't. Darry had never asked for his role as head of the family. He wanted to go to college, he could have made it, and he would have deserved it. But he had given up this dream after Mom and Dad were killed in an auto wreck. He had made huge sacrifices to keep the three of us together. He'd gotten himself two jobs, because he'd rather worked than sent me and Ponyboy to a boys' home. That was a great thing, the greatest thing he could have done to show how much he loved us. Why couldn't Pony see that?

I slowly went over to Darry and put my hand on his shoulder.

"He'll be back. Just let him calm down."

I was sure Darry already knew that there was no use in going after Pony now. It would only end in more fighting between the two of them; maybe all three of us, because they both always turned to me, hoping I would side with them. But I was just one single boy who loved both his brothers the same. I couldn't split myself in two, could I? It made me sick. I wanted them to stop all their fighting. I wanted them to stop turning to me and making me have to side with either one.

But as I said, I was sure Darry knew there was no use in going after Pony. He just needed to be reassured that him staying here rather than running after Pony was okay. He turned to me and in his eyes I could see all those worries about Pony, all the regret for having hit him, everything.

"I'm sorry Soda; I didn't mean to get at you." – He turned back to the door – "I didn't mean to get at Pony, either."

"I know, just let things calm down." I clapped his shoulder and headed for the kitchen.

"Coffee?" I asked. I knew it would be a long night, because no matter how many times as we told ourselves that our brother would be okay – that he'd come back – we'd still be unable to get to sleep until he was home.

"Yeah, thanks."

When I came back from the kitchen with a coffee for Darry and chocolate milk for me, Darry had finally turned away from the door and was sitting in the chair again. But he was still facing the door. And I caught myself glancing at the door every few seconds, too. Sometimes, a light wind would make the door creak and Darry and I would look at the door same moment with a start, only to lean back in our seats again resignedly, despairingly looking at each other.

I couldn't sit still for long. In fact, I never could. But this night it became especially hard. I began fidgeting on the sofa. I even found some Mickey Mouse magazine, that Two-Bit hadn't taken yet, between the cushions. I managed to thumb through it with only two times glancing at the door.

Finally, no longer able to stay sitting on the sofa, I got up. I started pacing around the room, but it didn't help anything. Then, I started washing up. That, at least, had the effect that we had clean glasses and cups again. As for calming me down, it wasn't of much use.

Darry wasn't very calm, either. He kept trying to read his newspaper. After some time he would fold it back together again, though, only to open it again.

After I had spent some of my fidgety energy in the kitchen I sat back down on the sofa. But I couldn't stay there for long, I downed the rest of my chocolate milk and got up again. This was one of the rare occasions that called for a cigarette. I couldn't help it. I started looking around if I could find one, or if luck would have it, Pony had them all with him, and didn't leave any behind for me.

"Soda, you're making me nervous. Sit down!"

"I can't, Darry; I can't sit still."

I found an open package in the bedroom. I put the pack in my back pocket and went out on the porch. I knew I could have smoked inside – Pony did it all the time – I just needed to get outside. I was about to go crazy inside.

It was cold outside, really cold, freezing. I was leaning against a pole when Darry joined me on the porch. We didn't talk. There was nothing to talk about. I wasn't mad at him for getting at me. If there was anything to be mad about it was the fact that he had hit Pony, but he felt bad enough for it, he didn't need me to scold him.

I finally broke the silence anyway, as there was something bothering me.

"He's only wearing a sleeveless sweatshirt, Darry."

"I know." Darry was plainly nervous.

"It's freezing."

"I know!" he raised his voice. Now it was his turn to start pacing around the porch. Then, he suddenly headed for the gate.

"I'm going after him," he announced.

"I'm comin' with ya."

"Stay here, in case he comes back," he was already walking down the street.

"No!" I wouldn't take that, so I ran after him. I would be far too nervous with both my brothers out in the night.

Everything about this night felt weird. I couldn't quite pin-point it, it just did. I was looking left and right on our way down the street. Left and right, hoping to see Pony some place. Maybe he'd cross our way, just about to get home. I even expected him to come up behind me, jump up my back, ruffle my hair and say, "Hey, Soda, you're looking for me?" But he didn't.

"Over there!" Darry's voice was like miles away, muted, unreal. And although I had been watching real hard all the way, I only just now realized we'd arrived at the park. I saw Darry walking over to some dark shape on the ground near the fountain. I felt my heart skip a beat or two. I ran after Darry, arriving at the fountain before him.

The ground around the fountain was wet like water had been splashed out. And there was blood, lots of blood, even the water of the fountain was red from blood. I stopped cold. I couldn't do anything but stare.

A boy was lying on the ground, the blood running from his side, pooling underneath him. His eyes were still open and the pale moonlight shimmered in them.

I turned away, too scared I might be sick if I kept looking.

Darry knelt down beside the body.

"Soc," he said, as if explaining. But it wasn't necessary, it was obvious he was a Soc, with his nice white trousers, his madras jacket.

"It's been quite recent. He's not very cold yet." How I hated Darry for that. It sounded … weird. As if it was normal to find some body in the park.

I felt cold shivers down my spine. What if Pony had killed that guy? Had Pony been alone? How would we know what happened? What should we do?

"I've got a feeling it's one of the ones that attacked Johnny."

Again Darry's voice brought me back from thinking. Which was good, because I wasn't good at thinking anyway. Let alone good at thinking of answers or solutions.

"Why?" I went over to look over Darry's shoulder.

"See those rings?" he asked, looking behind at me. I just nodded. Then, I sat down behind Darry, too confused, too worried to say a word.

We both kept silent for a while.

"It's all my fault." I didn't realize at first that Darry had said something, his voice was so low.

"D'you think Pony's really involved?" I asked, "It could have been Shepard's gang. Or…" I don't know whom I tried to convince, for I didn't believe my own words.

"You know gut feeling, Soda?" I only gave a nod in response, but Darry could feel it, since I had my head resting against his back.

"What are we gonna do, Dar? Go to the police?" Yeah right, get yourself a ticket straight to a boys' home, Sodapop Curtis!

"Sounds reasonable." It did, if you looked at it from a neutral position, but we weren't in a neutral position. That's why neither of us got up to make a first move.

"On the other hand," Darry began, and I knew it had to come. "On the other hand," he repeated, "if the police don't find this boy themselves, there's still the Socs who'll tell them."

"And Pony?" I didn't actually have to ask, but I needed to hear Darry say it.

"If he's involved they'll show up anyway." I don't know why he still used "if" when he'd been the one who told me about gut feeling. Maybe he didn't want it to sound as true as we both felt it was.

"But I don't want to have to tell them he ran out on me because I'm incapable to take care of my kid brothers. I don't want them to break us up, Soda. We only have each other left." I kept quiet. The police would still find out, sooner or later, what had happened earlier tonight, but Darry was right, there was no need to rush and rub their nose in it.

"We'd better go home," Darry got up and then helped me get up as well, "There's nothing we can do. And we still gotta go to work tomorrow. We'll see the gang tomorrow. He was at the movies with Dally, right? Maybe Dally knows more?"

There was nothing we could do right now. Nothing. Not a single thing.

Well, we could have gone to search for any of the rest of the gang, but it was some time after 3 o'clock. If we were lucky to find any of them awake, they'd be drunk or "occupied". No, Darry was right. We'd better wait 'til the morning and see what we'd learn then. Until then, all we could do was hope that Pony was alive and well.