PoV Darry
It always hurt when you saw someone you loved going through a tough time. It nearly killed me when I saw Ponyboy breaking. I thought he was getting better, after what happened with Dally and Johnny, but he was holding it in. He bottled up his feelings, pushing them down until he was over taken, consumed by his pain. I tried; we all did, to get him to talk. I set up a meeting with the school psychologist for him, but Pony didn't speak a word, just sat there, staring at the floor. It scared me.
His nightmares came back even harder after the court hearing. He'd wake up screaming almost every night, never remembering what those blasted dreams were about. Pony' s nightmares came every night, even if he didn't wake up screaming. At first he'd tell me if he had one, but then I could see it in his eyes and his posture. His eyes would be dark and his eye lids heavy. He would be hunched over, his head hung low. Ponyboy was breaking, and there was nothing I could do.
It was late one night at a work site when my boss called me to him.
"Darry, it's your brother," he said.
"Soda?" I asked.
He shook his head. "The other one."
"Pone, you're not supposed to call me at work."
He was quiet for a moment, and then I heard that he was crying.
"Ponyboy? What's wrong? Honey, what's wrong?"
My boss looked over at me, his brow furrowed.
"I killed them." Pony was still crying.
"What? Who?" I asked.
"Johnny and Dally. It's my fault. It's all my fault."
"No, Pony, it's not."
"Johnny wouldn't have killed Bob if I hadn't been in danger, and he wouldn't have run into the church if I hadn't. It was my fault." His voice got strangely calm. "And Dally was angry because Johnny was dead, which was my fault," he sniffed, "so I killed him, too."
"No, Ponyboy, listen to me. They died because Johnny was in so much pain that he couldn't stand it. Dally died because shot at a cop."
My boss was looking at me with an understanding light in his eyes.
"Pony, they're in a better place." I heard him move around.
He made a strange keening sound, and he was crying again. "No, they won't leave me alone. They keep yelling at me, they keep hurting me."
"Pony, they're not there." I was getting worried. "Listen, baby, I'm coming home soon, so just stay where you are."
"Darry, I'm scared. They keep hurting me, they make me bleed, they burn me, Darry, they make me hurt so bad."
I put my hand over my eyes, rubbing them. I was getting seriously freaked out. "Ponyboy, listen, where are you, baby?"
"I'm in dad's chair."
"Then how are you on the phone?"
"I moved the chair. They don't like the chair. I'm safe in the chair."
"Okay, honey, you stay there, then. I'll be home in about half an hour, and then we'll talk, okay?"
"They don't like me, Darry, they don't like me. I'm scared."
"Baby, you'll be fine, I promise."
"Darry, I've got to go."
"What? Why?"
"Because they're here. They don't like me, Darry, they don't like me."
"Pony, I -"
He hung up.
"Darry, go home," my boss said. "He needs you."
I nodded, putting the phone down, and drove home. It was dark inside, and it was quiet. The door opened suddenly behind me, making me jump. It was Soda, his hair scruffy. He smiled. "Sorry."
I nodded.
"Why is it so dark?"
I shook my head, feeling around on the wall for the light switch. I flicked it up, and stood in silence.
"Oh, shit," Soda whispered.
The furniture was all tipped over, the coffee table's glass top smashed.
"Do you think someone broke in?" Soda whispered.
"Where's Pony?" I whispered.
"What's that smell?" Soda asked in return. The house stank of gas. "Did you leave the stove on this morning?"
I shook my head, walking slowly to the kitchen. One of the rings was lit on the oven, it's fire on full blast. It explained the gas smell.
"Darry, there's blood."
I walked back into the living room after turning the ring off, and saw Soda crouched over the broken glass from the coffee table. He was right, there was blood on the glass, smeared and dripped on the floor.
I heard a muffled sob and shuffling in the next room. I got up and walked towards it. "Pony?" I asked. "Ponyboy, where are you?"
I heard another sob, right behind the door to the bathroom. I turned the door knob, and pushed the door open. But it stuck, only opening a few centimeters.
"Pony, is that you?" I asked.
Soda came to stand next to me.
"Leave me alone," Ponyboy whispered from inside the bathroom. "I didn't want you to die, leave me alone."
"Ponyboy, it's Darry and Soda. Come on, baby, let us in."
"No! Leave me alone!"
"Pony?" Soda said. "Baby, let us in."
There was a shuffle on the other side of this door, and the door opened. Pony was crouched on the floor under the sink; his head on his knees along with his elbows. His hands were lightly clutched on his hair, blood staining the red hair even more crimson. Blood seeped from his knuckles and palms where he'd broken the glass and the mirror above the sink. His eyes were red with tears, his cheeks wet.
Soda and I slowly walked over to him. I crouched in front of him and he tried to get further under the sink, moving away.
"Hey, Pony, it's okay, we're not going to hurt you," I said. "We just want to help, okay? Come here, Pony."
He whimpered, shaking his head. "No, you just want to hurt me."
"Pony, I don't want to hurt you. I want to help you."
He was quiet for a moment. Suddenly, I hand him in my arms, his loud sobs filling the room with noise. Soda sat next to me and took Pony' s hands.
"You've got glass in your hands, Pony," he whispered. "Did... Did you get burned?"
"They burned me," Pony said, looking at his brother. "They cut me and they burned me."
Soda looked at me with worry on his face. "Darry, he needs to go to the hospital, this is a worse burn than I can deal with."
I nodded and picked my baby brother up. "We're going to go to a safe place, okay?" I told him. "A really safe place, where you can get your hands checked and healed."
He nodded.
I placed him in the back of the truck gently, then turned to Soda. "Sit with him. He might freak when he sees the hospital because that's where Johnny died, so keep hold of him."
Soda nodded and got in next to Pony, holding him close.
