Superman and Kryptonite

by Taoroo

Darry's never had to spank Ponyboy before, but there's a first time for everything.

Darrel was in the kitchen when he heard the front door open.

"That you, Pone?" he called, keeping one eye on the stove. He heard the thumping of a bag upon the floor and shoes kicked off from likely soaking feet. The rain had been torrential that day, forcing Darrel home from work on the rooves. He'd decided to make a holiday out of it, grabbing ingredients for a meatloaf with all the trimmings for their dinner.

Ponyboy skipped into the kitchen, clearly none the worse for the weather.

"Hey Dar, there anything to eat? I'm starved!"

"Dinner'll be ready in ten," Darrel said with a smile.

"But I'm hungry now!" Pony was at the refrigerator, peering inside as he bounced upon his toes.

"Tough luck kid," Darrel chuckled, taking the door from his brother and shutting it deliberately. You're soaking, go take a shower before you catch a cold."

"Aww Daaar-"

"I said no, Pone. Have a glass of milk if you're that hungry."

Sighing dramatically, Ponyboy relented, grabbing the carton and attempting to swig directly from it before catching Darrel's warning eye, and pouring himself a glass instead.

"How was the movie? -take it slow!" Darrel finished as Ponyboy chocked on his mouthful.

"The what?"

"The movie, y'know, the one you were wanting to see all week."

"Oh, yeah, that," Pony said wiping his milk-moustache with the back of his hand, "it was fine."

"You better be more enthusiastic when Soda asks you," Darry said, shaking his head as he turned back to the stove, "he gave you the money, after all."

"Yeah..."

Darrel frowned, looking back over at the kid. It didn't take a genius see that his baby brother was hiding something. "You okay, Ponyboy?"

"Sure! Why wouldn't I be?"

Darrel almost didn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. Despite all he had been through, Pony was as devious as a neon sign. Still, Darrel had learnt to catch more lies with sugar than threats, which more often than not had his brother stick his feet in and clam up tight.

"C'mere, buddy." He said, holding out an arm.

"What? Why?"

Darrel let himself chuckle. Pony's name had never been more apt; he was acting like a spooked foal.

"Do I gotta have an excuse to hug my baby brother?"

Reluctantly, still suspicious thanks to an obviously guilty conscience, Pony edged close enough for Darry to grab him in a rough, one armed bear hug.

"Love ya, kid."

"Urgh! Dar..." Pony objected, but he had relaxed into the hug and was now acting more like his usual self. That was until Darrel froze above him. He'd gone to kiss the kid's hair, but stopped when an unmistakable scent caught his nose.

"Ponyboy," he growled, his arm now gripping the boy tight enough that he couldn't run if he tried to. "You been smoking pot?"

"What? No!" Pony's voice cracked at the end of that obvious lie.

Darrel pulled him to arm's length, holding his shoulders firmly. Looking at him more closely he could see the fear-wide eyes were red-ringed, the gaze still slightly glassy. Pony glanced away and back, nervously looking for an escape.

Darrel growled, resisting the urge the wail on the kid immediately.

"Get your ass in the shower, boy. Then stay in your room 'till I say," he snarled, turning his brother in the direction of the bathroom and sending him on his way with an ungentle swat to his backside.

It said something that Pony didn't protest the treatment, simply scurrying away with one wild-eyed glance behind him as if Darry might have been in pursuit.

When the bathroom door shut behind his brother, Darrel slumped into a chair, his head in his hands.

oOo

"Hey, Superman, how's it going?" Soda breezed into the kitchen twenty minutes later, stopping short when he caught sight of Darrel.

"Jeez, Dar', you look like shit. You sick?" he asked, plopping into a vacant seat and staring at his brother with concern. His brow crinkled, "What's that smell?"

Shaken from whatever planet he'd been on, Darrel yelped, jumping up and flinging open the stove. Whatever had been in there was now a blackened husk of its former self. He lifted it out and set it on the side, simply standing and staring at it in a highly disconcerting way.

"What the hell, Darry? You trying to burn us all to death?" Soda chuckled weakly.

"Sodapop..." Darrel said quietly, still fixed on the ruined meal. "You ever do pot?"

Surprised by the question, Soda shook his head. "I'm not that stupid," he said honestly. "You'd beat my ass black and blue if I did." He paused, the implication of the question sinking in. "Wait... you ain't sayin'…?"

Darrel heaved a deep, sad sigh. "I'm sayin'," he said, turning around and folding his arms as he leant against the counter. Soda had never seen his big brother look so helpless.

"Holy shit…" he breathed. "Where is he?"

"I told him to hit the shower. Now he's in his room."

"What happened?"

Darrel shook his head. "I don't know yet. I was so close to losing it when I found out I... I needed him out of my sight 'till I'd calmed down."

Soda nodded sadly. They all knew what could happen if Darry lost his cool with their baby brother; nobody needed that.

"What you going to do, Dar?"

Darrel gave a weak chuckle and gave his brother a complicated jerk of the shoulders, a sort of helpless shrug.

"You said it, didn't you?"

Soda's stomach dropped into his boots. "Y' can't whip him, Dar'," he whispered in horror.

"I can," Darrel said firmly, but then he slumped back into his unsure pose, "but should I?"

Soda bit his lip. Sure, smoking pot was all kinds of reckless, never mind the fact he'd probably done it outside the house where he could have been jumped or got sick or any other of a thousand awful scenarios. But Ponyboy was still under scrutiny from the Social. Even if Soda was now past the legal age to be caught up in the mess, having their baby brother torn from them after everything they'd been through was just plain awful to think about. But what if Darrel did whip Ponyboy? He wasn't like Soda, whose one trip under his brother's hand had been the only lesson he'd ever needed, forgiven as quickly as it had been forgotten. Pony was different – sensitive. What if he ran again? What if this time he never came back?

Soda muttered a few choice curses under his breath.

"Want me to go see him?" he offered. They both knew Pony was more likely to open up to the younger of his elder siblings. Even since Soda had moved back into his own room, the two remained close.

Darrel shook his head. "I gotta do this. I need..." he paused, and when he spoke his voice was hurt, damp with emotion. "I need him to trust me again, Soda."

Wordlessly, Sodapop came forward and wrapped his elder brother in a hug. He'd never have thought Darrel would ever be the one to need comfort and it was worrying him more than Pony at this moment.

"Go get'm, Superman," he said, giving his brother a playful sock on the arm. "I'll see about rescuing this dinner."

Darrel gave the meatloaf an untrustworthy look.

"Nothing a bit of food colouring and ice cream won't fix," Soda said with false cheer, slapping his brother on the back to propel him in the direction of the bedrooms.

oOo

Ponyboy lay on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He'd heard Soda come in and the murmur of conversation between his elder brothers, too quiet to make out. Darrel was telling Soda for sure what he'd done.

Pony slapped a hand to his face, dragging it down slowly. His ass was toast. How much had his brother guessed already? He was a big fat idiot to think he could hide this from them in the first place, no matter what Curly had said.

He heard footsteps heading down the hall towards him and for one wild moment considered running, or pretending to be asleep. But that would only make things worse in the long run, not that he minded delaying the pending shouting/grounding doom that was coming his way.

Surprisingly, Darrel knocked on the bedroom door instead of just barging in.

Pony called him in, hating the way his voice warbled in – if not fear – then wholesome dread.

Darry entered and shut the door. He stood there, just looking at Pony for some time before giving a sigh and grabbing the desk chair, sitting down as if he'd just done a three-day shift on the roofs.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Pony sat there staring. "Ain't you going to yell?"

Darry quirked a sleepy half-smile and shrugged. He leant forward, forearms resting on his knees, hands clasped between his legs, and fixed Pony with a weary stare.

"Would it honestly do any good? I'm tired, Ponyboy. Just... tell me, okay?"

For some reason this strange new tactic had Pony more disturbed than when his brother raised his voice. He found himself stammering a reply, thoughts jumbled.

"I just wanted to try it," he said after a while.

"No one forced you?"

Pony shook his head mutely then remembered that Darry always liked a verbal reply during their blow-ups.

"No, I... just wanted to try it."

"Where did you get it?"

Pony bit his lip, hating to be a nark, but knowing that any lie he told now would just come back to bite him harder later. His mind was still slightly foggy from his experience, his defences lowered. He was too messed up to think of a convincing lie.

"Tim bought it for us."

"You and Curly?"

Honestly, the way Darry was staying so calm was unnerving. Usually the fact that Pony was involved with the Shepherds alone was cause for a blow up, now he just sat, looking more and more tired as Pony spoke on.

"Yeah."

"And did you pay him?"

Pony cringed. He'd hoped this wouldn't come up.

"...Y—yeah..."

"Where'd you get the money, Pony?"

"I..." Ponyboy shifted uncomfortably and avoided his brother's eyes. He couldn't bring himself to say.

"Was it the money Soda gave you for the movie you said you were going to see?"

Pony tried to swallow past the dry lump at the back of his throat. He nodded, swiftly correcting the response to a hasty: "Yessir."

Darry nodded, digesting this information with the same eerie calm he had the rest.

"Where'd you do it?"

"At the Shepherds'," Pony said hurriedly. Surely smoking it somewhere relatively safe was a point in his favour? He suspected he'd need all the good grace he could get.

"You didn't smell of pot besides your hair...?" Darry prompted.

"I took a change of clothes."

"Shame you didn't think to take a shower too," Darrel said, his voice the same frightening monotone.

"So to sum up. You lied to me and Soda about where you were going. You went to the Shepherds where you know I don't like you to go. You stole money from Soda to buy weed. You smoked the weed. Tried to hide it by changing your clothes, and then walked back home still stoned."

"I didn't steal the money!" Pony found himself shouting, honestly shocked by the accusation.

"Soda gave you that money to go to the movies. You lied and spent it on drugs instead. If that's not stealing it's close enough."

Ponyboy bit his lips closed at that, knowing Dar' had a point and hating himself for what he'd done. Soda had been so pleased to treat him, the money earned from overtime at the DX. What a heel he was. It had seemed like such a god idea when he and Curly had been hashing it out.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, not looking at his brother.

"Are you?" Darry asked, his voice still heavy, no trace of sarcasm or anger. "Are you sorry or are you just saying it cause you was caught?"

"I am sorry, Dar," Pony snapped. "It was stupid and I hated it."

Surprisingly, Darry looked only concerned at the outburst. "You feeling ok, baby? You have a bad trip?"

Pony shrugged. "I don't think so. It felt how I guess it should. I just... I didn't like not being in control. It scared me."

Darrel broke a smile at that, half-relived, half-sarcastic. "Welcome to the club, buddy."

Pony bit his lip and hung his head, letting the silence drag.

Darrel shifted after a while, sitting back in the chair with a sigh.

"Wanna know how I could tell you smoked pot?"

Pony gave a shrug. "You smelt it on my hair."

"And how d'you think I know what pot smells like?"

"You..." Pony's eyes widened.

"Yeah," Darrel nodded, "back in high school I thought I was real tuff, a real cool cat. I went to a house party with my track mates and we passed around a cigarette. After, I thought it was a genius idea to drive home. Daddy caught me trying to sneak in the house."

Ponyboy's eyes and mouth flew open wide. "Shiiiit, Dar'," he whispered. "What'd he do?"

"He drug me to the garage and whipped me, once my age for the drugs, and again for the drivin'."

"He did?" Pony squeaked, feeling the colour drain from his cheeks.

Darrel nodded soberly. "Yup. Pulled down my pants and whupped me with his belt on my bare ass."

Pony tried to remember the time. Darry had been a golden boy of the house but there'd been a few occasions when he'd been in their parents' bad graces. Pony could vaguely remember coming back from school or the library a few times and finding one of his brothers in disgrace. Had his daddy really whipped Darry though? And on the bare?

With a jolt he realised just why Darry might be telling him this story now.

"You... you're going to whip me, Dar?" he asked miserably. He brought his arms about himself, hugging protectively, refusing to meet his brother's gaze. This couldn't be happening.

"Shouldn't I?" Darry's voice was still calm and quiet, and also sad. "I could ground you again, but you like staying in your room readin'. I could take your books but then your grades'd slip. You already do most of the chores and I don't have the energy to fight you into doing more."

Pony looked up and met his brother's eyes. Darry looked done in; more tired than he ever had before.

"I'm tired, Pone," his big brother admitted. He leant forwards once more, arms and head hanging wearily. "I'm tired of fightin' ya, tired of being the bad guy. I don't know what else I can do, I really don't."

Ponyboy looked at his brother in horror. Never before had Darry acted this way. He was the tuffest of the tuff, their Superman, and Pony had driven him to the edge. He had done this to him, like damn kryptonite.

With a sob Pony lurched forwards, onto his knees between Darrel's legs to wrap his arms about his big brother's neck. His throat hurt and his eyes burned as he clung desperately to him, praying and wishing with all his might that he hadn't broken his brother or pushed him too far.

"I'm sorry," he found himself babbling. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Darry' arms came up around him and Pony felt himself lifted, Darry crossing to the bed and sitting in it, cradling him in his lap. With a sick jolt Pony realised his brother was crying. He'd made his big brother cry. He kept repeating his sorries, each silent sob from Darry a knife to his heart.

"You can whip me, Dar," he said wetly after a long while, his grip still tight on his brother's shirt. "Please. I'm sorry. Just don't be sad no more."

Darrel sniffed and let go of Pony with one arm to scrub quickly at his eyes. When he was done he sat back, fixing Pony with sad-serious eyes.

"You sure, Pone?"

Ponyboy bit his lips together in trepidation but still gave a jerking nod. "I got it coming, Dar'," he admitted, cheeks burning.

Darrel transferred one hand to his brother's mess of hair. "You ain't going to run out on us after?"

"I promise I won't. I just want us to be square again," Pony said shyly.

"Alright," Darrel said. His straightened his shoulders, a spark of his old self returning with his confidence that had Pony feeling better already. With that came a hearty dose of dread; What had he let himself in for?

"You... you want me to fetch it?" He asked, determined to be brave.

"Fetch what, baby?"

"D-dad's belt."

Darrel looked surprised for a moment but then smiled and gave a small chuckle, petting him on the head. "You do that, sweetheart, I'll wait right here."

Ponyboy leapt from his brother's lap and hurried from the room. He was relieved not to see Soda on his mission, not sure if he could have stood the embarrassment. He heard the TV playing, louder than it really needed to be, and reminded himself to thank Soda later for that small bit of privacy.

Dad's belt was in the closet of Darry's room, hanging in the same place. Darry didn't wear any of their daddy's clothes, even when his wore out, and neither did Soda. Pony was too small for them but even if he hadn't been it would have felt wrong to do so. The closet stayed as it had been when their parents were alive; a silent memorial to them until a time when they had enough courage to empty it.

All too quickly he was back at the door of his room. Pony paused there for a moment, taking a deep, steadying breath before he entered. The belt was heavy, made of old leather, three inches wide and nearly a quarter-inch thick. It was supple enough in his hand, but weathered and treated into a solidity that signaled trouble for his poor backside. Ponyboy tried not to imagine how much it would hurt. Darrel had got through at least thirty licks, surely he could do the same?

The click of the door closing behind him sounded unnervingly loud in the silence. Darrel was still sitting on the bed. He looked like his old self now; calm and composed, and very, very intimidating. His face softened when he saw Pony hesitate and he held out a becoming hand to him.

"Come over here, baby."

Biting his lip, Pony obeyed. He held out the belt to Darry, who took it and put it on the bed behind him, then reached out and took hold of Ponyboy's arm. Pony let himself be pulled forward, folding over Darry's knees with a barely suppressed sob. He felt Darry grab hold of his jeans and gave a gasp as they were pulled down over his ass and down past his knees, but when Darry took hold of his underwear he flung a hand back, grasping his hand with a protesting whine.

"I'll give you a count of three to let go, Pony," Darrel's voice was calm but firm. He didn't say what he'd do if he finished the count but Pony wasn't so dumb as to wait to find out. He let go, bringing his hand forward and clasping it with the other before him, pressing his forehead into them as he felt his brother yank his briefs down to meet his jeans. His cheeks burned and he squirmed from the feeling of exposure, tears already threatening to fall.

This was it; Darry was about to beat his ass, and all for some stupid pot. So very not worth it.

Instead of the belt, however, when he felt the first impact it was Darrel's hand that made sharp, painful contact with his ass. That was bad enough though; a hot, stinging pain that made him jump and yelp, the noise loud in the quiet of the room. Before he had time to register the full extent of the hurt, another fell, and another, and another. Soon no part of his ass hadn't been on the receiving end of Darry's hard, calloused palm. The sting was rapidly evolving into a deep, aching burn that persisted even when Darrel moved his attention to his thighs and the crease where they met his ass, that particular spot so immediately sore that he was yelling and thrashing before he knew it.

Darry's free hand was on the middle of his back, his big brother needing an absurdly small amount of force to keep Pony in place. But as the spanking continued the hand moved, wrapping around Ponyboy's stomach like a sling, hugging him close to Darry's broad chest in a silent message that he wasn't going anywhere.

"Doing good, Pone, not long now," his brother said in soothing tones above him. Pony was sure this was meant to reassure him but the kind words only had him bawling more. His ass felt like it was on fire, surely swollen to double its size. He imagined it throbbing cherry-red like in cartoons, a big comedy neon balloon of pain.

Eventually Darry's hand did stop, and Pony collapsed over his knee in relief, exhausted and miserable. Darry was stroking lightly over his scalded ass and thighs. It should have been sore but it felt kinda good. Then the hand left him and there was a chink of metal as Darry picked up their daddy's belt.

"Oh shit," Ponyboy whined, a broken, pitiful noise he should have been ashamed of. He tried to wriggle free but Darry's arm held him tight.

"Please, I'll be good," he begged, pushing futilely against his brother's knee and kicking his legs, trapped at the ankle by his jeans. "Darry no, please. Not the belt. Please!"

"It's okay, baby," Darrel soothed. "You got ten licks coming then we're all done, I swear."

"I can't," Pony sobbed, "I can't do it, please, I'll never smoke pot again, I swear it!"

"The spanking was for the pot, honey," Darry said, his voice growing hard, "This is for stealing from your family."

Well shit, Pony couldn't argue with that. He sagged, grabbing hold of the bedsheets and burying his face into them. He felt Darry shift and then heard the belt as it cut through the air. The belt landed but it took half a second for the pain to register in Ponyboy's mind. When it did he screeched, bucking up and kicking his legs out. The pain was crazy. Worse than a rumble, worse than a broken nose or any other injury he'd ever had, striping over his raw ass like it was made out of fire.

"You don't lie to me or your brother again," Darry said above him, ignoring his wails. The belt landed again, just lower than the first.

"You won't take money from us and spend it on things you know are illegal or that we wouldn't approve of."

The third stripe landed this time on the upper thighs. Pony howled, drumming his feet against the bed to try and block out the pain.

"You won't put yourself in danger."

The fourth lick was just above the knees on the soft, tender skin, stealing away Pony's breath with the intensity of the burn.

"You won't break our trust."

This one landed on the sit-spots. Pony wailed, so overwhelmed that he couldn't even muster the energy to fight it. His hand shot back, but not to shield himself, palm up and fingers grasping in a desperate need. The grip about his waist loosened and then Darry's strong hand was in his, fingers intertwined and thumb running gently against his wrist.

"Please don't ever make me have to hurt you again," Darry said, and his voice finally broke. Clearly unable to speak any more he brought the remaining five licks down without comment, following the same pattern as the first ones. The last two he focused on the sit-spots, angling them so that they crossed at the middle.

Ponyboy was sobbing brokenly by then, his breath coming out in panting gasps, his whole body aching and trembling from the strain. He felt Darry drop the belt, chest heaving with relief, and let himself cry out his misery into the bed while above him Darry made soothing noises and rubbed his back with his spanking hand. It still felt over-warm to the touch; Darry had held nothing back.

After he had cried himself out, but before he was ready to give up his position, Ponyboy felt Darry shift, strong hands grasping under his armpits and lifting him up until he was sitting, ass dangling between his big brother's legs. He was wrapped in a hug, head held tightly against Darry's well-muscled chest. Safe and forgiven.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled hoarsely, when he could trust himself to be understood past the tears.

"Me too, baby," Darrel said, laying a kiss on his brother's hair. "I really don't want to have to do that ever again."

"You won't," Pony said, his hands clasping tightly into Darry's t-shirt. He closed his eyes, exhausted. "I promise you won't."

oOo

Soda woke them an hour later. The pair lay together, Pony wrapped in his big brother's arms, his bare ass still on show.

It took a bit of coaxing to get the kid into some pants, but the promise of food was enough to get him to finally agree.

Pony apologised to Soda over their dinner, green food colouring and a healthy dose of ice cream almost succeeding in masking the charred flavour of the mealtloaf.

Soda took the apology gracefully, but then ruined it with a joke at Pony's expense, earning a mock-stern lecture from Darry and a very real pout from his red-faced kid brother. The scene devolved into a wrestling match against the two youngest, only to have Darrel join in, taking Pony's side until Soda was pinned down, on the reciving end of a few playful whacks himself. Then Pony turned traitor, teaming up with Soda and nearly succeeding in grappling Darry before their big brother managed to get him into a body-lock, fending off Soda's attacks with his kid brother's limbs.

Finally exhausted the three ended up laying on the kitchen floor, breathless but happy.

By consensus they all slept in Darry's bed that night, Ponyboy sprawled over his brothers; on his stomach, of course.