Chapter 1: Cool, Dark Gravestone

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own "The Outsiders" or any of the Curtis' Gang. Sigh. The real owner of "The Outsiders" is my favorite author, the fabulous S.E. Hinton. I also do not make a profit from the stories that I write here on this site.

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Ponyboy's POV

I ran my shaking hands along the cool, dark edge of a gravestone; his gravestone. I didn't even try to hide my tears. My greaser reputation seemed so insignificant right now.

"Come on, lil Colt, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Everything; you're leaving me, Soda. You can't go to Vietnam!"

"I have to, Pone, but I need you to believe I'll be alright. I'll be back before you know it."

I could feel his hand stroking my hair, just like he always did, urging me to talk. Hysteria bubbled over and I gave a bitter laugh. I threw a rock as hard as I could and then began talking.

"When does it become too much, Soda; what's my breaking point? Mom, dad, Johnny, Dallas and then now you! I have three people left in my life, and that's counting Darry! Darry's still here, but a bitter and drunk Darry took his place. My brothers are gone, Soda."

I paused and tried to redirect to a lighter subject. "You'd be real proud of me and Steve; we get along real good now. He found me a nice car and fixed it up. Sure, it's not a Mustang, but it's not Two-Bit's piece of junk either. I wish you could see me drive. I need you, Soda. My nightmares are awful. Come back."

"You be safe, little buddy. Come back."

"I will, Darry."

Lies, all lies, yet I don't feel any anger. To be honest, I haven't felt anything in these past few months. We got the letter three months ago, but they had yet to send the body, but we had a funeral anyway. When the body came, it wouldn't change anything.

I decided I needed to get home, lately Darry was always wondering where I was and with who; when he wasn't too drunk to notice my presence that is. He always claimed it was because he loved me and cared about me, but I thought that it was maybe because he was scared to be alone and lose someone else. No matter how many drinker nights he beats me, I continued to make sure he was alright; I couldn't lose him. I still had faith that my old brother would come back.

I began the short but lonely walk to the house. The whole in my heart seemed to be growing, but I had thought that going to Soda's grave would help that, but I was thoroughly disappointed.

I reached the house and saw that Darry was waiting for me. I took a deep breath and ran up the steps and into the house.

"Where have you been?" He shouted. I'm pretty sure the neighbors heard; not that they care.

I quickly lied, "I was at the movies." I felt a slap across the face and I saw Darry's hand. I shrunk back, hoping that Darry didn't hit me again.

"Take some responsibility, you no-good brat! I work hard for you and you waste that money at the movies?!" I didn't remind him that we were running out of money from him buying beer. I normally snuck into the movies for free.

Another blow to the stomach made me cry out, but that didn't bother Darry none. He continued to hit me and I just took it until he got bored. He staggered off, grabbed another beer, and headed into his room.

A/N: This is a Darry abuse story, but it's not focusing on the abuse. It's more centered on Ponyboy in general and his talks with Soda at the grave. Thank you to FrankElza for betaing.

Aufenthaltd Gold,

~Alee