Another WSOTT prompt. This was for the "And in Walked Weird" prompt back in August of '08 where you were supposed to write an OOC story. On purpose. Yeah, really behind on posting this. I was scrambling to go on a trip when I wrote this, but it did get beta'd, believe it or not. So special thanks to Zickachik for that!

Disclaimer: The usual

The Mommy
By Tensleep

Some days I look at my big brother and wonder what we did to him. Don't get me wrong; it's not like Pony and I tied him down and gave him a makeover or anything, but we're still responsible. Darry was always strong and muscled and really scary when we wanted to be, but lately…I dunno. Take breakfast, for example…

"Soda! Eggs are ready!"

The eggs may have been ready, but I was having a slow morning and didn't know if I was ready to even eat. I figured the jam would perk me up and there was cake with the icing I made myself, so there was that. By the time breakfast was over and I was showered, I'd be more awake. Pony had nabbed the shower first this morning, so my usual routine was thrown off.

"Coming," I hollered back, rubbing a hand through my hair.

It was another five minutes before I padded into the kitchen and paused in the doorway. Darry was standing at the stove in one of Mom's pink aprons. He'd taken to doing that lately, saying it kept his clothes cleaner for work or something. I always wondered who he was trying to impress with clean clothes at a construction or roofing site. He always denied it, so I always let it drop.

This morning, I shook my head and slumped down into my chair at the table. Darry put a pile of eggs on my plate a moment later, wearing the checked oven mitts Mom had made from scratch. I blinked. Darry didn't usually bother with more than a potholder.

"There's some jam in the fridge and some cake, if you want it," he added, putting the pan back on the stove.

I yawned, but got up for it anyway. I was right about the jam and the icing. As I sat there letting the sugar go through me, I wasn't all that surprised to feel a little more awake. Darry was still at the stove, humming to himself. He finally tutted and smacked the pan scraper down hard on the counter.

"Ponyboy! You hurry up or you won't get to school on time!" Darry hollered.

"He's got time," I pointed out and received a sigh from my eldest brother.

"Not if he wants a decent breakfast," Darry replied.

I glanced at the cake and wanted to ask what Darry meant by 'decent' but let that go, too. I was learning that was the best thing to do when Darry was in one of these moods.

A minute later, Ponyboy came into the kitchen with his hair still sopping wet and his clothes barely on him they were so messy. Darry really tutted loudly there and took off the oven mitts.

"Do you plan on going to school looking like that?" He asked and Pony shrugged. "C'mere."

I watched as Darry straightened Pony's shirt and fixed the collar on it by sharply pinching the fabric. He even dusted off Pony's shoulders with little flicks of his hands. Ponyboy frowned and glanced over at me, but all I could do was shrug. Finally, after combing out his hair with his fingers, Darry let Pony sit down. Darry turned back to the stove and had a plate in front of Pony a moment later. Pony tilted his head a little as he looked at it and I couldn't help leaning over the table a bit to see, too. Darry had made the eggs into eyes with a bacon strip as a mouth and toast as hair or maybe ears – I wasn't too sure. It was the creepiest breakfast I'd ever seen, though.

"Now, you've gotta eat up, honey. Two-Bit is just swinging by this morning. I packed you a lunch and I expect you to eat it. No more of that junk food from the DX. Soda, you too."

I blinked up at Darry. I'd learned not to argue and just eat whatever I wanted, but Pony was a different story.

"C'mon, Darry. We end up over there, anyways, and this way Jack doesn't chase us off for not being customers."

"Ponyboy, you know just as well as I do that Jack wouldn't do that. He'd probably feel better if he saw you eating things you couldn't lift from that store," Darry replied, sitting down with his coffee and his bacon and tomato sandwich.

I watched as he held the coffee with both hands in the same dainty way that my second grade teacher used to. He shifted so his legs were crossed under the table and took a slow sip of the coffee.

"So, I have to work late tonight. There's left over casserole and carrots in the fridge. I expect you to eat them," Darry informed us. "Mrs. Casson from down the street is going to be dropping off her recipe for pecan pie at some point. Be polite and help her up and down the stairs – she doesn't move so well since she broke her hip last fall, the poor dear."

"The same Mrs. Casson who throws cans at us when we walk past her house?" Pony asked, looking like he'd like nothing better than to trip 'the poor dear'.

"Well, you don't just walk by her house, y'all tromp through like you're a herd of elephants," Darry scolded. "Now, hurry and get ready. Your math homework is on the table. Sodapop, you still need to shower before Steve gets here."

"Yeah, I know." I nodded.

"Well, perhaps you should get on that. I swear, every time that boy gets here, he has to wait ten whole minutes for you to get your act together."

I rolled my eyes, but got up to put my empty plate in the sink anyways. I turned to go and do what Darry wanted when he let out a pointed 'ah-hem?'

"C'mon, Darry. I'll wash it later," I sighed.

"When? While you're at work? Or how about when you're out with Steve making trouble while I slave away to make sure Ponyboy has enough food to eat?"

Darry was looking serious, so I picked up the plate and the dishcloth, hastily scrubbing it so it looked somewhat clean. Darry levelled me with a hard look and I groaned, turning back to work on it some more. I even added soap this time. Darry let me pass when I was done and I couldn't wait to just jump in the shower.

When I got out, there was a towel neatly folded and fresh from the dryer on the toilet seat. I wrapped it around myself, wondering when privacy went right out the window in this house. I snorted. Yeah, because privacy was the biggest issue we were dealing with right about now.

When I was dressed, Steve was standing in the doorway, getting the lecture of all time from Darry. I frowned at him and he rolled his eyes, glaring at Darry.

"Who cares if my shoes are dirty? Ain't like that ever mattered before," Steve drawled and Darry crossed his arms over his chest.

"It has always mattered, Steven. You just never seem to appreciate all the hard work that goes into running a household."

Steve blinked, but Darry seemed to be done with the conversation. He stalked back out of the room and into the kitchen. I glanced after him, seeing him rather forcefully dry the dishes. I shook my head and glanced over at where Steve was glaring after Darry.

"You know, I think I liked him better when he was trying to break my jaw," he commented.

"Well, just try to remember to take off your shoes from now on. And don't put your elbows on the table," I added, rubbing the sore spot on the back of my head from dinner the night before.

"Since when did Darry become such a…" Steve was at a loss for words.

"Mom?" I supplied and he nodded.

"I was gonna say wife, but yeah."

"I don't know, man." I shrugged.

"Well, it's creepy," Steve pointed out and I nodded.

"Sure is."

"Hey, you think he'll start baking cookies at some point?" Steve asked and I shook my head.

"Don't put ideas in his head. He's already scaring Pony enough."

Steve snorted, but didn't get into another speech on 'Poor Precious Pony'.

"Well, look at it this way. Nothing'll scare the kid in the future."

I did laugh then. If there was one thing I could say for this messed up situation, it made the rest of the world look a lot saner. I just hoped everything did work itself out. But for now, I could deal with things the way they were, because hey, when was the last time a guy like me actually got mothered by his tougher older brother? And if a picture of Darry in that pink apron and those checked mitts were to survive this phase…

I grinned and Steve half smiled, waiting for me to fill him in on my great idea.

"Hey Steve? Do you still have that old camera?"

I had grand plans for adding to this one, but so far nothing. We'll see what summer brings.

Any comments at all are welcome and flames accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens & Zickachik