Alright. So this is a one-shotabout Darry. I don't think they are many Darry centered stories out there, or at least I haven't seen many. I got the idea for this while listening to the song Kryponite by Three Doors Down. You don't have to listen to it when you read the story, but I think it would help you get a pretty good idea as to what this is about. This is NOT a song-fic, just based loosely on the song. My first story, by the way, although I've written many, I just haven't published them yet. I welcome anything with open arms. Constructive criticism, flames, compliments, anything. (Although I 3 CC, just sayin')

Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.

And now, on with the story! Enjoy!

There were many terms to describe Darry Curtis. Strong, responsible, tough, no weaknesses... his friends even called him "Superman" at times. Although no one knew it but him, there was also another adjective that fit him. Worrier. He worried so much about his brothers. Ponyboy, when he ran away and got involved in the whole murder rap mess. Sodapop, when Sandy left him. He was exhausted all the time, working two jobs and raising a family had certainly taken its toll on him. He was constantly worrying. Maybe he was just paranoid. But he wouldn't ever let anyone know about it. His brothers needed someone to look up to. Someone to carry them on his shoulders and pick them up when they fell down. They thought of Darry as a superhero. But even Superman was affected by Kryptonite.

"Hey, Darry, you wanna slice of cake for breakfast?" Soda snapped him out of his daze. He jabbed his thumb toward the cake he had made just last night. There were a few slices missing already. Like puzzle pieces missing from the whole. Darry shook his head absentmindedly.

"Naw. M'not hungry."

"Okay... somethin' botherin' you, Dare?" Sodapop asked, his coffee brown clouding over with concern.

"Just a headache, that's all."

Soda eyed him suspiciously, as if he didn't believe him, but nodded nonetheless. Darry sighed and got up form the table to head for his room. Two-Bit and Steve were over and it was all too noisy. Darry entered his room and closed the door. He ran a hand through his hair and sat down on his bed.

His gaze fell upon the family photo that was taken on the front porch of his house two years ago. His mother, father... and even Pony, Soda, and himself had all looked so happy, completely oblivious of what would would hit them in the near future. Of course, no one expects for their parents to die in an auto wreck. He took the photo frame into his hands and stared at it, hunching over and dropping his head. He had just turned eighteen in that picture. Everything seemed less complicated back then. A lot can change in two years. He gazed at his oblivious grin in the picture, and felt his eyes water. No. NO. Darry Curtis doesn't cry. He just... doesn't.

He remembered back to his and Ponyboy's first fight.

"Darry, this has been hard on me, don't you understand?" Ponyboy shouted. Did he understand? Pfft. Of course he did. He understood more than Pony did. Probably more than he ever would, too.

"Pony, if anyone doesn't understand 'round here, it's you," Darry said, he had suddenly given up on yelling. His voice was dangerously low and quiet. "I'm the one who has to work. I'm the one who pays the bills. I'm the one who has to raise you an' Soda. I'm the one who has to keep it all together. This has all been hardest on me. So don't even try to tell me about how hard you have it!" Darry snapped. He was sure the cool stare that he usually had was gone. Pony opened his mouth, then shut it, and Darry knew he had him pinned. Ponyboy had a dumbfounded look on his face, like a deer in the headlights. Pony closed his eyes for a moment, though it seemed like an eternity, then spoke.

"Gosh, Darry, I didn't realize... I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Pony..." Darry found himself whispering.

Darry had always been paranoid. He was afraid to drink, because if he had one, one could lead to another and another could lead to another and so on and then it could lead to an addiction. And if he was drunk, someone would find out, and Pony and Soda would be put in a boy's home. Just like that. He couldn't smoke, because if he did, he could become addicted, then he would die, and Pony and Soda would be put in a boy's home. Everything he did, he thought out every possible outcome before he did it. If it ended without his brothers in a boy's home, then it was safe. If it ended with them in a boy's home, then it wasn't. Some might say this way of thinking is unhealthy, but he was used to it. He thought of it as being proactive.

He hoped he was a good role model for his brothers. That was all he truly wanted. He had to be honest, though. Soda wouldn't make it as far in the academics part of life, but Darry was sure he would find happiness and success somehow, some way. He had high expectations for Ponyboy, though. He didn't want him to miss out on the chance that he missed out on. But truth be told, Darry cared about both of them deeply. He would always miss his parents, (he was always close with his father) but he would never, ever trade his brothers for anyone or anything in the world. Darry had always had hopes for his own future, too. He had always had this small hope inside of him that he could go to college one day, get a degree, then get a better job, and be successful. That was all he ever wanted. Maybe, a family, too. But now he realized his brothers were his family. He knew his dreams of college were slim, but hey, he could dream, right?

"If I went crazy, would they still call me Superman?"

The thought came to him out of the blue and it clung to his mind like glue. If something happened, something bad, would they still look up to him? He sure hoped so. But he couldn't help but wonder, because he hadn't found it yet, what was his Kryponite?