Gone Forever

Summary; What is the Curtis brothers' lives like after Sodapop leaves them? Vietnam death flick!

Disclaimer; I don't own the Outsiders.

Darry's POV;

As I read the letter, I felt my heart drop and my stomach turn to ice. That one letter-- that one sentance--destroyed any hope left for my younger brother, any hope that he'd come back alive and well. The letter fell from my shaking hand to the floor. I slid down the wall to the carpet. In between the lines of Steve Randle's shaky writing were tear stains, and I added my own as I read the letter over again, feeling my heart torn into a million pieces at each word.

Darry and Ponyboy-

Hey. I did what you asked and wrote to you, like you both asked. I didn't want to be th bearer of this... You both know that Sodapop and me were supposed to come home from Vietnam in two weeks for Sodapop's birthday...

Soda's not comin' back. He was... killed protecting the unit he was in. I'll be comin' home in one week.

Steve Randle

The letter was short and to the point. Brutally to the point. This one note destroyed my ability to hide my feelings and, bending forward, head resting on my knees, I yelled, screamed, did anything possible to relieve the pain and sorrow that was coursing through my body.

I fought to keep my emotions in check. I was twenty-two, Ponyboy's older brother, the leader of our gang. I was Superman. I couldn't let Ponyboy think otherwise-- I could never let him think otherwise. I had to be strong for him, to give him what love and comfort I could. God only knew how much he'd need it. I stood up on shaky legs and stumbled to the bathroom, wishing wildly for Mom and Dad. They were gone, too, killed in an auto wreck two years ago.

"DAMN THEM!" I yelled, kicking the wall hard. I rarely cursed, but right then, I didn't care. I hated the government for being in the Vietnam war, for recruiting Sodapop into the army, for destroying any chance he could have had to make a life for himself. I walked into the bathroom and looking in the mirror, was surprised at my reflection. My eyes were red and puffy, tear stains on my cheeks. I hadn't cried for a long time, not even at Mom and Dad's funeral. Turning the water on, I washed and dried my face-- I couldn't let Ponyboy see me like this. I knew he'd be home from school soon, along with Two-Bit Mathews, and I was right when I heard the door slam and laughing from the kitchen.

"Hey, Darry! You there?" Pony called.

"I'm comin'," I answered back, keeping my voice level.Pony, nontheless, sensed something was wrong. 'Oh, you have no idea,' I thought. I put the towel I was using down and walked into the living room where Ponyboy and Two-Bit were waiting for me.

"Hey... hey, Dar. What's wrong?" Ponyboy asked, frowning with concern. When I didn't say anything, he asked again. "Darry?" The smile was disappearing from his lips.

"Sit down, Ponyboy."

He shook his head, walking towards me. "No."

"Sit down, Ponyboy."

"Darry, tell me what's going on--"

"For god's sake, sit down!" Both he and Two-Bit looked shocked-- I never yelled like that. I knew my voice was shaking and as he obediantly sat on the couch, it reminded me of the night my parents had died. He even had the same confused look he'd had on those two years ago. Would his reactio be the same?

"Two-Bit, you need to hear this, too," I said. I turned back to my younger brother as Two-Bit took a seat beside him. "Ponyboy... I got a letter from Steve..."

"Is he and Soda comin' back early?" Pony asked eagerly, face hopeful. I picked the letter up from the floor and handed it to him.

"Not in the way you think," I answered softly, trying to keep my voice from breaking. Two-Bit, reading over my brother's shoulder, was the first done.

"No... that's not possible..." he managed to say-- he was awful white and he looked like he was going to start crying. Ponyboy looked up at me.

"Please," he pleaded desperately. "Please tell me Soda isn't gone... like Mom and Dad." He broke down then and leaped up, suddenly hugging me tightly. As I felt the sobs racking him as he cried into my shoulder, he didn't seem like a middle-aged teen. He was more like a lost and scared and broken five-year-old. I motioned Two-Bit over and he joined the embrace, biting his lip to keep the tears from flowing.

"How can he be gone?" Ponyboy sobbed. "How? First Mom and Dad, then Dally and Johnny. Now this."

"I don't know, baby," I answered softly, keeping my own tears at bay. "I don't know." We stood there, the three of us, for many long minutes, when Pony finally stepped back and wiped his damp cheeks.

"I'm gonna go outside," he said listlessly, in a low monotone. As he headed out, slamming the door behind him, I walked to the kitchen. Two-Bit followed me, tear-stains on his cheeks, sniffing. I saw his mouth drop as I lit a cigarette.

"You don't smoke Darry," he said, wiping his face with his Mickey Mouse shirt. In the back of my mind, I could remember Sodapop's voice say teasingly, 'What kind of tough guy wears Mickey Mouse shirts?'

"I don't very often. I don't let anyone see me doin' it, either. Right now, though, I don't give a damn."

"What's gonna happen now?" I knew what he meant.

"I wish I knew, Two-Bit... I wish I knew."

A/N; First chapter down, and I hope everyone liked it. I would like to thank my best friend for giving me the idea for 'What tough guy wears Mickey Mouse shirts.'