I do not own The Outsiders, nor any of S.E. Hintons original characters. I also do not own Linger.
One-Shot (probably)
Pony POV
The three of us step out of the truck and Soda slings his backpack over his shoulder. His overnight train to training leaves at 8. We only have minutes left until goodbye. I bite my lip, afraid that the tears will come. I start to feel my eyes sting, but I shove my tears down. Not now. I'll cry when I get home. I'll have 365 nights to cry until I see him again. No more. I push the thought that it could be seventy years of nights to cry out of my head. Or at least I try to.
Soda senses what I'm thinking. He always does. He grins one of his lopsided grins at me, but his eyes don't shine like they normally do. He runs a hand over his scalp. He had shaved his head this morning.
He had been sitting next to me on the couch, bouncing his knee when he stood up and went into the bathroom. He came out with a buzz cut. He'd said to us that if they were gonna make him cut his hair he was gonna do it. Not some lug with no respect for the finer points of hairstyling. I'd rolled my eyes and told him it's pretty hard to mess up a buzz cut. He replied that is was the principle of the thing.
I'd give anything to be back in this morning, put a few more hours between us and the impending departure of my older brother. Moments are falling away like a landslide, slipping through my fingers until he leaves. He never even graduated from high school. He never got married. Never put more little Soda's into the world to run around terrorizing teachers and getting drunk on life. I try to remind myself he still can. He still will. He just needs to hold on one year. I did the math out when we got the letter. 525,600 minutes until he comes home. I look at Soda, I'm now nearly level in height with him. And the tears come, not just from me. Soda also. I know he's scared, however desperately he tries to hide it, it's not hard to tell.
Soda surrounds me in a hug and I wrap my arms around him. I feel Darry's arms join the congregation of tears and I'm reminded of when I hugged them in that hospital waiting room, the first time I'd seen Darry cry. This makes two. He cried the first time over the fear of losing one of his brothers, all he had left. This time, it's the same reason, different brother. The only difference is he had been crying over being reunited, this time it's over the unknown. We're being swept away by that landslide. Being taken over the edge, pedaling in midair, with nothing to hold onto but each other. I hold onto them tighter. My family, little and broken as it may be, it's mine. And now the universe has decided to shatter it again. Surely he'll come home. No one can have that much sadness thrust upon them in one lifetime. We've already had enough. We're already full enough of grief. We don't need more. Please, no more.
Soda breaks away from the hug and looks at us, his eyes trying to hide his emotions. "I have something I need to tell you guys." His voice cracks on the last word. The eyes he'd been trying to keep stoic melt back to the pain-filled pair I've been seeing a lot of lately. "I wasn't sure if I wanted to say this, but now or never I guess. If I... If I don't come home. Please try not to hurt so much for me. Keep living and breathing. Please don't forget me, but please don't dwell on me. Tell your kids about me with a smile, not with tears."
He moves his eyes to look specifically at me. "Pony, keep studying and be a doctor but not for the money you'll make. Do it because no one will expect anything from you, orphaned greaser. The world expects less from you. So go out there and knock them dead."
He looks at Darry next. It seems like these words hurt him to say, to accept he may not get to say them again. "Darry, you gave everything for us. I'm sorry you had to. You gave up the world so we could have a shot at it. And I am so, so grateful." I'm not sure what to make of Soda's speech. By the looks of it Darry isn't either. It's strange for him to do something like that, address the worst possible scenario. He's always been the happy go lucky of us. But I guess a lot of things had been strange lately. I don't know what to do, so I hug him again. I'm so lost, I guess we all probably are.
For some reason, I'm reminded of an old song Dad used to sing when we went camping. I always thought it was funny that he would sing it, because it was a goodbye song, but none of us were going anywhere.
Mm-mm I wanna linger
Mm-mm a little longer
Here with you, with you.
I don't even realize I'm humming the tune as I try to remember the rest of the song. Soda looks at me and chuckles.
"It's such a perfect night
It doesn't seem quite right
That it should be my last with you, with you." He half speaks, half sings. It's the last call for the train. I hug him a little tighter.
"This is goodnight but not good-bye." He says, his voice catching on tears.
The three of us echo I love you's before Soda has to go board the train. Darry holds me around the shoulder as we watch him board the train, and as we wave furiously as it pulls away. I stand there for a long time after it leaves. Finally, Darry drags me back toward the truck.
365 days to go.