I've had this one for a while, decided to finally post it. Haven't proof-read, so if there are typos or it's awful, oh well. :P Again, Pony seems really young. Oopsie.

Darry POV

I hear a scream, cut short, and it wrenches me sharply from sleep.

"Soda-"

I recognize Ponyboy's voice yelling - or trying to. I'm out of bed and down the hall in a second. Why does he sound like he's choking-? I flip on his light and freeze.

He's lying on the bed, pinned down by Soda's knee on his chest, trying desperately to pull away Soda's hands, which are wrapped so tightly around his throat that it almost hurts me to look at it. They're both yelling, but, loud as they are, I can't make out what either of them are saying. Pony sees me out of the corner of his eye.

"Dar-" he forces out, panicked, and I suddenly get a hold of myself. I dash forward and grab Soda's hands, tying to pry them away, shouting at him to let go of Ponyboy - and suddenly, he does. He rounds on me, his eyes wilder than I've ever seen them, and leaps towards me. I catch him by the forearms as he reaches for my throat, and wrestle him to the side of the room, slamming him back against the wall. He snarls, still shouting, as he tries to get away, but I tighten my grip. Two years in the army gave him some muscle, but I can still beat him any day.

Suddenly, I realize - he's dreaming. His eyes are unfocused, like Pony's get when he opens his eyes in the middle of a nightmare. "Sodapop-"

He can't hear me over his own shouting, so I do the only thing I can think of: pull him forward, then slam him back against the wall again.

He blinks suddenly, startled, and stops shouting. Now that he's stopped fighting, I can feel him shaking as he looks at me, almost panicked. "Darry?"

"You awake?"

He nods, and I slowly release him. He rubs the back of his head where it hit the wall, then I see his eyes flit past me to Ponyboy. He goes white. "Pony-" He starts over to him, but Ponyboy's eyes widen as fear crosses his face, and I grab Soda's arm to keep him back.

"Ponyboy, I swear, I didn't mean to - I'm so sorry," Soda pleads, but Pony just looks at him, his breathing fast, and I can see him trembling.

"Pony…" Soda's voice breaks and suddenly he's yanked away and is out the door before I have time to react. I hear the front door slam and decide to let him go - he has to calm down before he'll want to talk to either of us.

I turn to Ponyboy, who's shoved himself against the headboard, and when I say his name, his head whips around to me, his eyes panicked.

"Easy," I say, holding out a hand like I'm calming a scared animal. "It's okay." I sit next to him, and he croaks out, "What happened?" He squeezes his eyes shut, like it hurts to talk, and I can see why: he's got deep purple, hand-shaped bruises forming around his neck.

"He was havin' a dream," I respond, gently turning up his chin so can get a better look at his throat. "He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't mean to hurt you." I set my fingers on his windpipe, trying to make sure Soda didn't tear anything inside.

Pony makes a high-pitched, pained noise, and I say softly, "Sorry, kiddo." He's eighteen, but I don't think I'll ever stop calling him that. I press gently around his throat, but it seems alright. "You okay?"

He nods, still looking slightly frightened and confused, and I know it's more the fact that Soda - Soda - hurt him that's bugging him than the pain.

"Hey." I wait until he looks at me before I continue. "He didn't mean to hurt you. It's just…I don't know what it was like over there, kid. But I know it was bad. Whatever he saw, whatever he had to do… It's gotta be hard to come back to this, to realize you're safe when you've been in danger for so long. Okay? He's not used to this yet."

Pony lets out a long breath, nodding. "Can I…" He swallows, brow furrowed in pain, before saying, "-wait up?"

I know he means 'Wait for him to come back,' and I nod. "I'll stay up with you."

We sit on the couch for hours, and Ponyboy finally falls asleep around four in the morning. I bite my lip. Should I try to find Soda, or just wait? I don't have time to contemplate, though, because the front door opens and Soda steps inside, looking dead on his feet.

I stand up. "Soda?"

He looks at me, silent, then averts his eyes as I take his arm and lead him out to the kitchen so we don't wake Pony.

"You alright?" I ask, and he nods, staying quiet for a second before bursting out, "Is he okay?" His voice is thick, and I get a good look at him. He doesn't look like he's been crying, but he looks like he could start any second.

"Yeah," I say quietly, and he lets out a shaking breath, sinking into a chair before putting his elbows on the table and pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes.

"I swear I didn't mean to, Darry," he whispers. "I just…" A shudder runs through him. "I'm sorry."

"I know." I squeeze his shoulder, and he jumps slightly, looking up at me with startled eyes.

"It wasn't your fault," I say firmly. "I can't imagine - I don't want to imagine - what it was like over there. But it had to have been bad if…" I don't finish, but he probably knows what I mean: If it made you like this.

"I just keep thinking…what if you'd come in a few seconds later." He swallows, but I can hear the tears in his voice. "I could've - I almost-" He stops, his shoulders shaking as he tries to keep from crying.

I don't know what to say. What if I had come in just a few seconds later? The thought scares me, and I push it down. "But you didn't, Soda," I say, squeezing his shoulder again, and this time he leans into it. "He's okay."

"He's never gonna trust me again. I'll never trust me again."

I just keep my hand on his shoulder, staying silent. Because he may be right.

Pony POV

Soda's been sleeping on the couch ever since that night, and, while I know it's for the best, I miss him - miss having his arm flopped across my neck, miss having him here to calm me down after I have a nightmare. I mean, he was gone for two years, but I got used to him being home pretty fast. I woke up in a cold sweat last night, half expecting him to be there, assuring me it was just a dream. Of course he wasn't, and I laid awake for hours.

He hasn't talked to me much either, since then. I know he feels bad about it - the first time he saw the bruises around my neck, his eyes had gotten huge with horror and he looked like he was going to be sick. Now he just kind of looks away, mumbling a response and then quickly leaving the room whenever I try to talk to him. I know it shouldn't, because he isn't mad at me, but it hurts. I miss him.

I sigh and throw the blanket off, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. I pass the living room and see Soda on the couch, asleep. I go by quietly, get a drink, and am about to go back upstairs when Soda's arm jerks, his breathing turning heavy. His face is twitching, and I don't know if I should wake him up or let him be. He lets out a strangled sound, and I reach towards him to shake his shoulder when suddenly a cry of pain or horror, I can't tell which, bursts from his lips and he sits straight up, gulping in air. He looks at me suddenly, and we both sort of jump back, startled. We stay like that, staring at each other, him trying to get his breath back and me trying to tell if he's awake or not.

"What're you doing up, Pony?" he finally asks, and now I know he's awake.

"I needed a drink and then- you were dreaming- I was gonna wake you-"

"Don't," he says sharply, startling me. "Don't ever try to wake me when I'm dreaming. You get me? I'll end up hurting you-" he cuts short, but I saw his eyes flick to my neck for a split second, and I know he almost said, "hurting you again."

"Soda-"

"Don't, Ponyboy." He's not looking at me anymore. "Okay? Just…go back to bed."

I hesitate, wanting nothing more than for the old Soda to break through the surface, to grin at me and tell me everything's alright. But he doesn't. "Okay," I say quietly, and head upstairs.

Soda POV

"Ponyboy," I say again, but he just nestles deeper into the pillows of the couch, mumbling something. He fell asleep reading, and I didn't mind it a few hours ago, but now I have to go to bed and he's in my spot. Well, looks like I get our old bed tonight.

Still Soda's POV

Slowly, I open my eyes and look at the clock on the nightstand. Not quite time for Darry to come get me up for work. Good. It's warm, and all I want to do is soak up the last few minutes of sleep. I'm about to close my eyes and do just that when I suddenly stop. I look back over my shoulder, then do a double-take when I see Ponyboy stretched out on the other side of the bed, one arm flopped across me like I always used to do for him. I automatically jerk away roughly, getting up, which makes Ponyboy stir, mumbling. That idiot - what was he thinking?

"Soda?" he says drowsily, and I turn to him. He's sitting up, his hair sticking up all over the place, looking at me through tired eyes.

"What were you doing?" I can hear the anger in my voice and suddenly realize this is how Darry feels - so worried that it comes out as anger.

"I know what you said." He sounds more awake - me being mad is a rarity, and it makes most people listen up pretty fast. "But you were dreaming, and you sounded scared and- I know how it feels." He looks up at me, and I realize he's just trying to give me back some of the comfort I've given him over the years. But I shake my head.

"Look, Pony, you need to stay away from me when I'm asleep. You don't get it. I'm dangerous." I feel like that strikes an odd chord with both of us. I've always thought of myself as tough, ready for a fight. But not dangerous. I go on. "I could hurt you, worse than I did before. Okay? I'm just trying to keep you safe."

"I know," he mumbles, looking down, fiddling with the frayed edge of the blanket.

"Look- if I'm having a dream or something, have Darry wake me up. He can beat me in a fight any day."

"I'm sorry, Soda- I just wanted to help…"

"I know, but…" I sigh, then turn and leave the room after a second, leaving it at that.

Darry POV

I hear Ponyboy scream, and I'm in his room in a flash, hearing Soda's footsteps pounding up the stairs. Pony's sitting up in bed, scared witless, shaking and sobbing, trying to get his breath back.

"Pony," I say quietly, and he starts violently, shoving himself into the corner between the headboard and the wall, as far away from me as possible.

"Easy, nobody's gonna hurt you." I start towards him cautiously, but he just gets nore panicked, so I stop, then look at Soda. His eyes go from me to Pony, then back to me.

"I'll scare him more."

"Just try Soda."

He steps towards Ponyboy, who presses himself farther away, eyes panicked. Soda stops, and I say quietly, "Go on."

He does, ever-so slowly, until he reaches the edge of the bed and sits down, talking gently. I can't make out what he's saying, but suddenly Ponyboy says, "Soda?"

"It's me."

I can see Pony's frame go from tensed, terrified, to relieved in a split second, and then he's hugging Soda, squeezing the daylights out of him. Sodapop freezes, as if he can't believe that Ponyboy would even want to be near him after what Soda did to him. But the moment passes, and Soda slips his arms around Pony, hugging him close and talking softly to calm him down. I smile. Soda thought Pony'd never trust him again, but here we are.

"Shh, I've got you now. I'm here," I hear Soda say softly to Pony, who's got his nose buried in Soda's shoulder. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you…"

They're still in that same position when I go to get Pony up for school and Soda up for work the next morning: slumped against each other, holding the other up. I'm surprised Soda's still here - I would've thought he'd leave once Pony fell asleep. I guess he didn't want to let the moment go.

I shake Soda's shoulder gently, and he opens his eyes, glancing down at Ponyboy before looking up at me drowsily. "Gotta get up for work, little buddy."

Ponyboy stirs, stretching his back stiffly, sort of like a cat, before snuggling back against Soda, who looks up at me hopefully. "Five minutes?"

I grin, messing up his hair. "Five minutes. Just this once."

Soda POV

It's been a few months, and I've gotten back into the swing of things. I haven't had a dream in weeks. I still sleep on the couch, though, just in case. I'll never forgive myself for what I did to Ponyboy, even though the bruises on his neck are gone and he's told me repeatedly that it's okay, he doesn't blame me, it's alright. But I's not alright- I could've killed him.

I shift onto my back, trying to get comfortable. I should've gotten another blanket- it's freezing. I try to ignore the cold, though, and close my eyes.

They pop open a minute later. Forget it. I swing off the couch. I'm getting another blanket.

I go to the closet upstairs and pull out a thick quilt Mom sewed years ago. I'm walking back past Pony's room when he suddenly sucks in a sharp breath, and the bedsprings creak, like he sat up suddenly. I poke my head in the doorway. "Pony?" My eyes are already adjusted to the darkness, so I can see him sitting up, rigid, in bed, his chest heaving. His head snaps around towards me when I speak, startled, but he slumps forwards slightly with relief when he sees it's me.

"Hey Soda." His voice is shaking. Barely, but it's there.

"You okay?"

He nods, looking away. "Did I wake you up?"

"No." I lean against the doorframe, trying to decide if he's really alright or just faking it.

"You don't have to stay with me," he mumbles, breaking me out of my thoughts. "You can go back to bed."

"You sure?" I can't tell if he means it or not. Maybe he wants me to leave. I used to be able to tell when he was alright and when he needed someone there, but in the two years I was gone, he's gotten a lot better at hiding his feelings. I guess he didn't like Darry knowing when he was upset.

"Yeah."

"Okay." I pause a second longer, then go back downstairs to the couch and curl up under the quilt, falling into a fitful sleep.

Still Soda's POV

I sit straight up, my arms trembling as I lean back against them. I run a hand across my face and take a quivering breath. It's been so long since I've had a nightmare, I thought maybe they were gone for good. I guess not. This one was different though- for once, I wasn't fighting someone. I was standing to the side as another soldier raised his rifle, and I watched helplessly as my little brother, eyes wide with fear, turned towards me, pleading silently for me to save him- and then a bullet tore through his chest.

I'm telling myself it was just a dream as my heart thumps wildly. I can't help it. I have to check on him. I throw the quilt off and go upstairs, pushing open Pony's door and looking in.

He's not here.

My stomach turns to ice and I panic. Nonono, this can't be happening, not for real. I must be dreaming-

Suddenly I hear the toilet flush, and I turn to see a bleary-eyed Ponyboy opening the bathroom door and stepping into the hallway. My knees go weak with relief and I put a hand against the wall to steady myself.

"Soda?" pony yawns. "What'cha doin?"

A small laugh escapes my lips, and I mess up his hair. "Nothing." I turn suddenly, go downstairs, grab my pillow, then head back up to Pony's room, where he's already in bed.

I toss my pillow onto the bed and crawl under the covers next to him. He looks over his shoulder, confused, and I say, "Don't mind if I take my spot back, do ya? Or did you get used to having the whole bed to yourself?"

He grins tiredly. "'S all yours." He rolls back over, and I throw my arm across him. Up until now, I'd been so focused on making sure I was far enough away that I wouldn't hurt him again that I hadn't realized how much I'd missed him.

"Thanks, Soda," he mumbles drowsily. He must think I'm comforting him, when really, he has no idea how much of a comfort it is for me to have him here. I tighten my arm around him, pressing my forehead against the back of his head, breathing in the faint scent of shampoo, and smile, closing my eyes. "You're welcome, kiddo."