Disclaimer: If you think I own the Outsiders, you should be in therapy, not reading fanfiction.
A/N: This is my first fanfiction, so PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK. Feel free to send flames – I print them off and hang them above my computer to motivate me to write MORE sucky stories. R&R, people! Also, for now this is a one-shot, but I'm thinking of adding a chapter or two, either as several unrelated one-shots or as a continuous story. Let me know what you think!
Darry was exhausted.
His day had been long, and the knowledge that he would have to get up again in just a few hours weighed heavily on his shoulders, preventing sleep. He had tried everything that usually worked when Pony had a nightmare and couldn't fall back asleep – water, multiple bathroom breaks, even Mom and Dad's old noise maker – but nothing helped. He was simply too tired to sleep, and it didn't help that his muscles would spasm every five minutes. His back and shoulders throbbed and he could barely keep his eyes open, but still sleep eluded him.
Darry's thoughts drifted to his old high school friends. He wondered where they were now. Probably in college, or the owners of massive firms that they inherited from their fathers. Certainly none of them were lying in bed unable to sleep because their muscles ached and burned and they still had bills to pay.
Bills.
Even the passing thought left his heart pounding and a sour taste in his mouth. Checks were bouncing left and right, and a guy from the electric company was coming out later that day to turn off the electricity. Water was next. Darry rubbed his eyes and tried hard not to think about just how close they were to losing the house. He hadn't told Soda or Pony, of course – there was nothing they could do, so why give them more to stress about? He knew Soda was worried about him. Even Pony looked at him funny when he said Pony's report card could wait and started in on bills instead.
Darry was starting to wonder if that worry might be justified. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a proper meal – months, probably. Because money was so tight, he'd started leaving Soda and Pony to eat dinner alone while he showered, promising to eat after, then waiting until they went to bed to eat the leftovers from their plates. Yes, it was a little repulsive, and sometimes it made his stomach turn (there had to be a pretty good reason for either one of them to leave food on their plates), but it was necessary. Just like all the other things he sacrificed, like taking ice cold showers when all he wanted was to soothe his aching muscles, or working 12 hours a day even when he was sick or half-delirious from exhaustion. All of it was necessary.
And so was making sure Pony was okay when he woke up screaming from a nightmare, as he was right now.
Darry's muscles screamed in protest as he sat up too fast, and he bit back a groan before easing himself out of bed and hobbling down the hallway. Soda always comforted Pony, but he always checked on them anyway, making sure they didn't need anything, making sure he didn't have to be Superman at 4 A.M.
Of course, Soda had it under control. Darry still poked his head in and whispered, "He okay?" even though he knew he was. And Soda still nodded, even though he knew Darry knew.
Then, something happened a little different from most nights. Pony raised his head, seemingly recovered, and stopped short.
"Darry, you okay?" he whispered, and Darry paused for a minute, thrown. Then he forced a weak grin that felt more like a grimace.
"Yeah, I'm fine, kiddo. Go back to bed."
But Pony had already slipped away from Soda and stood in front of Darry, evaluating him. Even Soda had stood up and was frowning in concern.
"Listen, you guys have school in the morning," Darry said in what he hoped was a firm voice. "You need sleep." So do you, a voice in his head echoed. Darry shook it off.
"You're hunched," Pony pointed out, but his voice was a little less certain – probably because he knew how much importance Darry placed on school. Unfortunately for Darry, Soda came to his rescue.
"Pony's right, Dar. You look dead on your feet," he observed, his voice gentle and concerned. Darry opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a wave of dizziness passed over him and he was forced to grab the doorframe for support, shutting his eyes tight and trying hard not to vomit. He didn't open them until he felt himself being lowered gently onto the couch, and even then all he could do was gesture weakly. Thankfully, Soda understood, and a trashcan was shoved into his hands just in time. Distantly Darry heard Pony's gasp and Soda telling him to go back to bed, but all he could focus on was the horrible pain and muscle spasms each time he retched. It seemed like ages before it stopped. Darry leaned back, choking down pained sobs, barely hearing Soda frantically asking what was wrong. Finally he got himself under control, taking deep, steadying breaths and doing his best not to see the huge pile of bills on the table. Soda was staring at him, white-faced.
"Dar," he said a little shakily, uncertainly. "Dar. Are you – are you okay, now?" He pointed an accusing finger at Darry, but it wavered. Darry nodded, guiltily.
"Sorry," he mumbled, ashamed. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Soda nodded, breathing hard. "So what happened?" he asked, his voice gentler now, but still a little scared. "I thought you were dyin' or somethin'." He clearly meant for it to sound light-hearted, but to Darry he sounded dead serious.
"Sorry," he repeated, guilty at having caused his brother worry. "I'm fine now, really. I just got a little dizzy."
Soda looked at him disbelievingly.
"Really," Darry repeated, nodding a little, encouraging Soda to believe him, to drop it, just drop it –
"You must think I'm real dumb to try somethin' like that."
Darry looked over in surprise.
"You just fainted, threw up, and cried – which you haven't done since you were about thirteen, by the way – and I'm expected t' believe it was because you were dizzy?" Soda sounded almost amused, and Darry bit back a sigh. It was a pretty dumb excuse.
"I just don't want to worry you, okay?" he said honestly. "Listen, it's nothin' bad. I just got dizzy cause I ain't been sleepin' too good, and all that vomiting really hurt my back. I pulled it again," he said, subconsciously pulling the stack of bills towards him. It wasn't the whole truth, but close enough that Soda would probably believe him.
Soda glared at him, pulling the bills away again. "Okay, I believe you," he said, a little hesitantly. "But, listen, Dar, you gotta sleep more. And eat more. I'm startin' to suspect you don't eat at all, the way you always refusin' to eat with us." He gave a light smile, but it seemed strained. "I'm real worried about you, Dar. Ponyboy is too." He paused, waiting for Darry's reluctant nod, before grinning and saying, "But I bet you wouldn't mind a back-rub."
Darry gave a sincere smile at that, easing himself down on his stomach. "You're my savior, Pepsi-Cola."
Soda just grinned as he started to massage Darry's shoulders and back, and Darry nearly groaned in relief. "Thanks, Soda," he mumbled, feeling his eyes start to close. "You're the best."
A/N: R&R!