Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders or any of its characters.

Big Brothers

The reason why big brothers are born first, is to protect his siblings who come after him.

That was what my parents told me when Sodapop was born and the same thing two years later when Ponyboy was born. I was overjoyed. I was a big brother and with a childish enthusiasm, I told myself I was going to be the best big brother there ever was. I buddied with them all the time, teased them, helped them with their homework and woke them up, tickling them until they can't breathe anymore.

My parents were really proud of us. Dad and I were like brothers and we would kid around, play football, while Mom made some of her famous chocolate cake and shoo Pony and Soda's prying fingers away from the cake. The rest of the gang would often come by our place. Dad would wave Steve and Johnny over to play and Mom just smiled at Dally, who would smile back in spite of himself, and joke around with Two-Bit. Things were perfect back then. It didn't matter that we were poor or had a family of misfit kids.

Until one day, Dad and Mom went out for the night to visit some friends. They told me to watch over Pony and Soda and that they would come back around eleven. Well, eleven came and went and still no sign of our parents. Ponyboy had already went to sleep. Sodapop tried to stay up with me, but he eventually succumbed to slumber. I sat there in the armchair that Dad usually sits, where he waits for us if we're out. I was reading The Carpetbaggers, but I was staring at the same line for more than an hour now ...

Knock! Knock! The banging on the door jerked me out of my doze. Somehow, Soda woke up, leaped off the couch, laughing, running at the door, saying how late Mom and Dad were. I suppose he forgot that Mom and Dad had a key and didn't need to knock on the door. The moment Soda opened the door, the laughter in his eyes died and he took a few steps back uncertainly. There was a few policemen standing at our door, looking at us. I laid a hand on Soda's shoulder. " Can we help you?" I asked in a polite voice.

One of the officers looked at me, then at Soda. " Are you Darrel and Sodapop Curtis?" he said in his tough police voice. We nodded silently. " Can you bring your younger brother here too?" When I raised my eyebrow, he quickly added, " This concerns all three of you."

Sodapop bounded off to Pony's room and I can hear his groans and yawns in our strangely quiet living room. I offered the officer a seat and if he wanted anything to drink. He shook his head, sitting down, watching as Ponyboy came out, his hair tousled and eyes sleepy. The officer waited until both Soda and Pony sat on either side of me. " I'm afraid I have some bad news," he said quietly. We immediately stiffened. Even as I pleaded to no one in particular that it wasn't them, the officer confirmed my fears. " Your parents was in a car accident tonight. Neither of them survived."

His words hit me like a sudden slap, harder than anything I've ever expected. Sodapop kept shaking his head, as if trying to say the officer was lying. Ponyboy let out a dry sob, his arms wrapping around himself. And the next thing the three of us knew, we were hugging each other, crying, seeking to escape the grief that racked through us. I looked at the officer, my face set and hard. He merely nodded, understanding, and left us the way we were.

I can still remember the state people talking to us after the funeral. They said that if we can't put up with the bills, Sodapop and Ponyboy would have to be sent to a boy's home. Ponyboy's eyes got real wide at these words. Sodapop turned pale, his fists shaking uncontrollably in his lap. I simply sat there, too stunned to say something. Ponyboy and Sodapop sent to a boy's home? The three of us seperated? " No." The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop. " You can't seperate us. I'll work and we'll stay out of trouble. We promise." Ponyboy and Sodapop bobbed their heads earnestly, their eyes hopeful.

The state people looked at me, then back at each other, murmuring in their quiet voices. I bet they were talking about how unsuitable our home was, how rough our neighbourhood was and how we hang around with hoods. But they were convinced enough to let us live together and the three of us whooped in joy. Only if I proved to be a fit guardian and all three of us keep out of trouble.

From then on, I kept a strict authority on the family to keep us together. I made sure neither Sodapop or Ponyboy got mixed into any trouble. I remember once I caught Ponyboy trying some beer and I grounded him for two weeks. Then, there was that time Sodapop dropped out of school to help out with the bills. I wanted to yell at him for giving up the education that I had given up for the sake for my brothers, but I didn't. I knew Sodapop meant well. He never liked school much to begin with. Besides, we were barely making it as we were and I needed all the help I can get.

So that leaves Ponyboy. He was smart and got good grades. I was proud of him, glad that there was someone to continue on what I couldn't. I knew he was going to go to college and move away from this neighbourhood and go somewhere far. I pushed him, urged him to do better. Sodapop often would admonish me for being too strict on him and I would just shrug it off.

It started like any other day. I was returning from work, my shoulders aching from lifting the bundles of roofing and thinking of nothing but a nice, warm dinner. When I turned the corner, I saw, with horror, Ponyboy was pinned down by five Socs on top of him, one of them holding a blade to his throat. He screamed for me, Soda, anyone, his voice muffled by the handkerchief they were stuffing in his mouth.

Rage boiled in me, as I ran out of the car. Somehow, the rest of the gang appeared, reaching the Socs first and scaring them off. I lifted Ponyboy from the ground, shaking him harder than I meant to. He was shivering and cold to my touch. There was a nasty looking bruise on his cheek and that cut at the side of his head needs to be clean up before it gets infected. He looked like he wanted to cry but he held it back, brushing his tears angrily away. Maybe he wanted to put on a brave show in front of us or maybe he was embarrassed that he got scared by those Socs.

I growled, stuffing my hands in my pockets. Those bastards will pay for hurting my little brother. I grew agitated, thinking what would have happened if we were a few minutes late. What would have happened to Ponyboy then? I shook myself from my thoughts, since Ponyboy was asking me if he could go to the movies with Johnny and Dally at the Nightly Double tomorrow night. At first, I was hesitated. After what just happened, I didn't want Ponyboy running around anywhere. But Dally and Johnny would be there with him and what could possibly go wrong at the movies?

It was midnight and Ponyboy should be back home now. I glanced at the clock over the edge of my newspaper. He's probably on his way home right now as I speak. But minutes passed, crawling too quickly for my taste. I began to panic at one o' clock in the morning and Pony still hasn't come back. Maybe he got jumped again and I wasn't there to help him again.

Sodapop came back a little after one with his double date with Sandy, Steve and Evie and saw me pouring over phonebooks and frantically calling our gang for any hint of Ponyboy. Soda and Steve were as clueless as me. Who knows where Dally is at this time. Same goes with Two-Bit, though I did call his house anyways. I didn't even bother calling Johnny's house.

By two o'clock, I tried reading the newspaper for the thousandth time, while Soda stretched out on the couch, too exhausted to read. The words from the newspapers oddly made no sense. I kept glancing at the clock, counting each minute. Maybe I should call the cops, I thought more than once. Maybe they knew where Ponyboy was ... they always know something ... after all, they knew about our parents that fateful night ...

When I looked up at the sound of the door creaking, I saw Ponyboy, shutting the door quietly. Relief that briefly appeared was washed over by anger. " Where the heck have you been? Do you know what time it is?" I yelled, leaping to my feet. Ponyboy cringed at my rising voice, mumbling some stupid excuse. Sodapop woke up, rubbing his eyes unaffectedly. My infuriation just continued to increase at Sodapop's lack of concern. Words slipped and tumbled over each other, as I bellowed some common sense at Ponyboy. Soda tried to say something, but I turned on him before he could, lashing out at him too. Ponyboy yelled something at me, but in my outrage, I didn't hear and slapped him instead.

We all froze. Sodapop's wide eyes swivelled back and forth from the two of us. Ponyboy stared at me with the frightened look of an animal. My hand started to swell and turn red but it didn't matter to me. " Ponyboy ..." I started but he was already running, running away from me, even as I screamed my apology to the disappearing figure in the dark.

I stood at the poach in a daze. I hit Ponyboy. I hit my own brother. My baby brother. So shocked was I that I didn't realize Sodapop was shaking my shoulder. " Darry! We gotta hurry! We gotta catch up to him!" He was yelling at my ear, trying to snap me out of it. " Come on, Darry. Please, we gotta find Ponyboy. It's not safe this time of night." It was Soda's plea and the word "not safe" that really woke me up.

As the two of us ran across the neighbourhood, for the first time, I cursed Pony's excellent sprinting that made him the star of the track team. Soda and I split up, him going to right while I wheeled to the left. I checked the vacant lot, Pony's school, Two-Bit's house, the movie threatres and the DX station. My yells echoed in the brisk night. " Ponyboy!" And the wind murmured boy ... boy ... boy ... back at me infuriatingly. Soda and I met back near the house, exhausted and frustrated.

Suddenly, we heard sirens. We looked at each other and the next second, the two of us were running as fast as we could towards the sound. There was a crowd in the middle of the park, forming a circle around whatever was there. Hard as we tried, we couldn't see what the deal was about. So I asked the nearest person. " Seems like some kid got killed," the man said, looking rather nauseous. " Stabbed to death."

Both me and Soda turned paper white. No, no, no, I begged. Don't let it be Pony. Not him. After what I did to him, this was the cruelest punishment. I wouldn't even get a chance to apologise to him. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I started shoving through the crowd, ignoring the yelps and complains. When I reached the clearing, I breathed in relief that it wasn't Ponyboy, but another kid, a little older than Sodapop, his eyes still half-opened, lying in his own pool of blood.

Swallowing, holding back my bile, I saw that Sodapop's face was now a sickly green. I soothingly rubbed his back. The kid's poor mother was sobbing and screaming as the father gently tried to pull her away from the scene. The police were questioning four kids, Socs by the look of their clothes. Me and Soda were about to leave when we heard one of the Socs describing the killer.

" He had big, black eyes, dark-coloured hair, pretty small. He was wearing a blue jacket and jeans. There was another boy with him. A kid with long, brownish hair and greenish-grey eyes. Wearing a sweat shirt and jeans. Greasers. That's what those two good for nothin' -"

The Soc never finished his sentence because I grabbed him by the front of his shirt before the cops could stop me. " Where are they!? When did you last see them?!" You can bet I probably looked like some crazy madman in the dark of the night and the mist steaming from my mouth.

" Whoa. Calm down, kid," one of the officers gently pulled me away from the Soc, who looked like he was the one down on the ground like his dead friend. " It's going to be all right. We got people investigating where those kids went. We'll get those murderers."

Murderers ... It didn't sound right. Johnny and Ponyboy weren't murderers. They could never kill. I wasn't quite sure how Soda and I got back to the house after the police questioned us and we kept saying that our brother and Johnny would never do something like that. Two-Bit dropped by early in the morning to tell us that Dally was taken to the police station. It seems that Johnny and Ponyboy are headed towards Texas. Of all places, why did they have to choose Texas? My imagination got a little wild on me, as I pictured seeing Johnny hunched over in the streets, his eyes strained with hunger, while Pony shivering in the cold with nothing but his sweat shirt for protection.

Hours slowly crawled by, turning into days before I could count them. It was maybe four or five days since Ponyboy and Johnny had ran away. The longest four or five days I had ever known. I haven't been going to work and I wondered if I was fired yet. I haven't shaved, taken a shower or done something other than stare at the newspapers, scanning from some sign for Ponyboy. Two-Bit and Steve have been visiting every so often, trying to comfort us. Dally hasn't been coming lately, claiming the police were still suspecting him and didn't want to add to our troubles. But I knew that they were as torn up as us. Two-Bit even had half a mind to get in his car and drive to Texas to find Ponyboy and Johnny. The very thought of Two-Bit driving to Texas in his rundown, old car made me chuckle.

The door slammed like it usually does and Soda comes in. He was as restless and pale as me. The nights of barely sleeping and eating has taken a toll on us. He went out each night, prowling for hours and coming back empty-handed. I knew that at least once, he went to Buck Merril's but I didn't have the energy to scold him for it. I noticed he was smoking today, something Soda doesn't do unless he wants to look cool or when he's troubled. I figured it was the latter. Suddenly, he looked up at me, his eyes haggard and worn, not like his usual lively, dancing ones. Before I could ask what was the matter, he already spilled out his troubles on me. " Sandy's pregnant," he said heavily.

As the shock settled in, I closed my eyes, rubbing my head to ease my developing headache. " No, Darry, that's not what I mean," Soda gabbled hurriedly, rushing to relieve my obvious disappointment. " It's not mine. The baby isn't mine." It couldn't have been more painful for Sodapop to say those few words. " I told Sandy I loved her though - didn't care if it was mine or not and - I dunno, she just left. Went to live with her grandparents in Florida. Guess I'm single again." He tried to smile but failed.

I just looked at him sympathetically, not knowing what to say. We all knew how much Soda loved Sandy. It's just that, I thought she loved him too. I pulled Sodapop into an embrace. He wasn't able to hold back his sobs and he shouldn't have to. That makes both Ponyboy and Sandy that Sodapop has lost this week. I never felt so helpless and scared. It felt like our family was being torn apart and the only thing holding us together were my arms around Sodapop. I could only listen to Soda's sobs as I slowly rocked him the way Mom used to when we skinned our knees or when we got our fingers stuck on the door.

It was getting late into the evening and I was eating by myself, the food tasting strangely plain and bland in my mouth. Soda was roaming again, too anxious to sit and eat. I was about to go to my room to get some sleep when suddenly, Soda barged into the living room, nearly tripping over the table.

" They found them! Ponyboy and Johnny! Saved kids - church burning - Windrixville - Dally there - at hospital right now - no time to waste - "

It took me about three minutes before I was able to make some sense out of Sodapop's ramble. By then, Sodapop had already started up the car and jumping impatiently up and down the seat while I hurried to the car. We rushed to the hospital, in a record time of less than five minutes. It was like the time when we first heard about the stabbing of the Soc in the park all over again. I didn't know if Ponyboy was hurt or what. It drove me insane that I didn't what was happening to my brother. We grabbed a hold of anyone we saw, demanding where Ponyboy, Johnny or Dally were. We spotted a man talking on the phone and heard the name "Ponyboy" and the next thing the man knew, Soda and I were on top of him, shooting questions like a gun.

The man - his name was Jerry Wood - he told us to wait here as he went to get our brother. He smiled and said he thought we were brothers, 'cause of our looks and the way we act. I was too busy being worried to notice what he said. Not a moment later, Ponyboy came bursting out of one of the rooms, as Sodapop grabbed him and spun him around and around, holding him tight.

Then, Ponyboy released his hold on Sodapop and looked at me. I looked back, unsure how should I act. I noted that his face smudged with ash, his hair cut short, ruffled and bleached white. His eyes were tired and stressed, perhaps as much as mine. He looked so thin in that his over-sized shirt that looked like it was swallowing him.

It surprised me to find tears coming down my cheeks. I haven't cried since I was little, not even when Mom and Dad died. I simply stood there, hands jammed in my pockets, gazing at Ponyboy with imploration, feeling relieved and somewhat afraid. What if Ponyboy still hated me because I hit him? Would he ever speak to me again? And worse, what if he wanted to live somewhere else?

Suddenly, before I knew it, Ponyboy had already grabbed me around the waist and hugging me so hard I thought I could burst. He was saying how sorry he was, his face pressing into my T-shirt. I blinked. He was sorry? No, it should be me. I was the one who hit him. But instead of my apology, the words came tumbling out as I struggled not to cry.

" ... I thought we'd lost you ... like we did Mom and Dad ..."

When I felt Ponyboy squeeze a little harder and Sodapop's arm snaked around the two of us, pulling us even closer, I knew that everything was going to be all right.