A/N: Well, I don't know if there is an ideal time to post a sequel, but this was ready, so here goes!

Fourth in my Evie stories, following on from 'The Only Kind', 'Our Kind' and 'Our One Rule'. Not compulsory to read those first, but probably helpful!

Title from a song by The Doors, which I don't own, any more than I own The Outsiders. Which is not at all, because I am not S.E. Hinton. Damn.

November 1966:

Funerals are kind of an ending. And yet, looking back, Eddie's funeral was more like the beginning of something.

Eddie wasn't old old, I suppose. Not like some wrinkled grandpa falling asleep for the last time, after a real long life. But he was ill and he'd prepared for this. The funeral was paid for, everything tied up as neat as the rest of his life.

Did that make it a more 'normal' funeral, if there is such a thing? Because Eddie wasn't a kid? And everyone had time to see that it was coming?

There was certainly a very unreal feeling to both Johnny and Dallas's ceremonies, but I wasn't exactly myself back then. And Trey's was wrong on each and every level. Eddie's was different again, everything was organized by him, before he went.

Didn't mean Steve was prepared for it though.

I waited for him to break down and cry, like he had the day he found out that Eddie had cancer. He didn't. He got quiet. People would have laughed if I tried to explain that, I mean, this was Steve Randle, he was never exactly chatty. But this was different.

On the day Eddie died, I was outside his room at the hospital, like I had been for most of the time, just waiting on Steve. He came out with the doctor and they spoke quietly, before Steve walked over to me.

He sat down on the uncomfortable hospital chair next to me, staring hard at the floor. "I gotta sign some forms." He sounded real calm. "My dad died," he added, quiet but matter fact.

I hugged him but he didn't really hug me back.

"I'd better see about those forms," he said, heading over to the nurses' station.

When we got back from the hospital, I called Soda and he came over and they sat up late, drinking steadily without getting drunk, as far as I could see. Talking some, but mostly not. I wondered what it had been like the opposite way around, when Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were killed, when Steve would have been supporting Soda. That must have been another funeral out of the blue, like Johnny, like Dallas. Like Trey.

Steve found his way to bed around three in the morning, crawled in and wrapped himself around me. I tried to stay awake in case he wanted to talk, but I felt my eyes closing again. He just held onto me. I don't think he slept.

It was a pattern that set in, over the next few days.

On the day of the funeral, when I woke up, Steve was already getting dressed.

"Did I wake you, babe?" he apologized, pulling his tie undone with a frustrated shake. He began redoing it. I'd never seen him in a suit and tie. He'd worn a smart shirt for Sarah's wedding, but not the whole deal.

"Is it late?" I still hated that he didn't have an alarm clock on his night table.

"Nah. I was just...awake. Thought I might as well get started. Soda was kind of hung over. He went home to change his clothes."

"Did you make him coffee?"

"Yeah, yeah...wait." He turned to me with a suspicious look. "You want coffee. That's what you're saying, right?"

I smiled sweetly. "Thanks, baby."

It was never going to be a good day, but he smiled. At least half a smile. And I got coffee.

I'd bought a new dress for Trey's funeral. And even back then, in September, I'd known that it would have to be used again soon, for Eddie, so I'd picked something classy that gained even Sarah's approval. I knew I'd made the right decision when people started showing up at Steve's house, before we set out. Black suits. Black dresses. Hats.

Some people that I didn't think were going to the funeral came by; neighbors who brought food, placed it on the table and left again. Several cars from out of state arrived out front.

Steve greeted an older couple who came up the front steps and right into the house without knocking, asserting their position as family. I trailed behind. I didn't know what to do with myself, other than stay by him.

"Steve, sweetheart, how are you?"

I wanted to poke his Aunt Beth in the eye as she questioned him. She'd been the same at the hospital. Seriously, how did she think he was?

The mousy haired girl who'd arrived with her gave Steve a hug and didn't ask any stupid questions. "Hey. I'm Elle." She smiled at me.

"L?" I repeated, like an idiot.

"El-izabeth. I go by 'Elle'. We got a whole bunch of 'Elizabeths' in the family."

Oh. That made more sense. I introduced myself. She asked if I wanted any help with the food. I looked at the table.

"I have no idea." Was it somehow my job? My responsibility? Because I was Steve's girlfriend? Shit, what was I supposed to do about it? I shrugged. "People just keep bringing it..."

"Yeah. They do that." Soda came up behind me. He must have snuck in the back door. He and Steve looked very different dressed in suits. I could almost have walked past them on the street without recognizing them.

"Sodapop?" Elle peered at him.

"Elle, that you? Hey now, it's been a while. Where'd the pigtails go?" He smiled at her.

I poked at a plate of sweet rolls someone had deposited without me even seeing them.

"People'll eat it. After," Soda told me. "Just don't break the dishes. They come back for their stuff." He shrugged as I shot him a grateful look. I figured he knew the score. I figured the Curtis boys were probably snowed under with food, if that's what people's reaction to death is.

And I needn't have worried because Beth took over, organizing plates and glasses and cups. She didn't seem to think it was weird, how neat everything in the cabinets was; maybe she was the same. She was Eddie's sister after all. No. Scratch that idea. 'Cause I wasn't anything like Sarah.

When we went outside, there was a short but heated discussion as to whether Steve would ride in his aunt and uncle's car or some other relative's - Eddie's cousin, I think he was. Steve started to get a tight set to his jaw that I recognized with a sinking heart.

"I'mma drive myself," he said, through gritted teeth.

"Nah, you ain't." The steel in Soda's voice made me look at him in surprise. He did not sound like his usual self. There was no smile. He mirrored Steve's mulish look. Steve opened his mouth to say something and Soda launched forwards, not exactly pushing him, but moving him away from the other people, backing him against the corner of the porch.

"Gimme the keys," he said levelly.

"Soda..."

"Give. Me. The. Keys." Soda leaned in close to him, dropping his voice to a hoarse whisper. "Don't you think I know what I'm talking about?"

I watched as Steve dug in his pocket and handed over the key to the Chevy. Soda threw his arm around Steve's neck, in one of those 'guy hugs' that resemble a head lock, talking right into his ear as he walked him down the steps.

"Here's how it's gonna go. You ride with your aunt, that's the right thing. I will drive Evie. An' then I will drive you an' Evie back here after. It's just a day, man. Get through today. Let us do for you, for today."

Steve leaned against him, for a couple of seconds. He nodded.

Once we were driving, Soda asked me for a cigarette.

"Light it for me?" he asked, stabbing the car lighter harder than Steve would have liked to see.

He was the most wasteful smoker I ever saw. Usually. He seemed to forget he had a weed and let it burn away while he yakked. This one, he sucked right down. It didn't really seem to relax him. Like I said, this was never going to be a good day.

At the cemetery, there were even more people. Steve was passed from person to person, handshake after handshake. I couldn't even tell if he knew most of them - Eddie's workmates, his friends, some of their wives. They said the same kind of thing over and over; they were sorry for Steve's loss, he was to let them know if they could do anything. Steve nodded, like that made sense.

The only time he looked like he wasn't sleepwalking was when he saw Darry and Two-Bit and Tony.

Sarah wasn't with Tony, but that was because she was so sick this time around. 'Morning sickness' was apparently just a name, not a definition of the time you actually puked. Ma said it was a good sign, meant that the baby was strong. But then, she also said it was a sign it was a girl, so it was probably all old wives' tales.

"You didn't need to take off work," Steve said in surprise to them. Darry shook his head and gripped his arm, as Two-Bit clapped him on the back from the other side. Tony murmured something about how sorry he was.

"Come on, Steve. Like we wouldn't be here for you?" Darry said.

"Yeah. Like we wouldn't," came a quieter voice.

I turned around and saw Ponyboy. His suit jacket didn't fit him real good. He must have grown some since the last time he needed to wear it. He shoved his hands in his jeans' pockets, awkward now that everyone's attention was on him. I guess his dress pants were beyond saving, and there weren't any hand me downs yet, since Soda was still using his own suit.

Steve swallowed and nodded, not quite meeting any of their eyes. "Thanks, guys."

He was being called to go stand by his aunt, so things could start. There was a hell of a lot of telling him what to do today. I had a feeling he would only take so much of it.

Two-Bit gave me a quick hug. "You hanging in there, Tink?" he asked in a whisper.

"Me?" I didn't know what he was getting at.

"Yeah, you. You're kind of little to be holding him up, you yell if you need back up, huh?"

I smiled at him gratefully and we went to stand behind Steve.

Once again I found it hard to take in what was being said. I was so focused on Steve, that I barely heard a word the minister said. Steve flinched a couple of times as bits of Eddie's life were listed, but mostly he had that stunned, sleep walking look on him. He put his hand back towards me and I held onto it.

Aunt Beth started dabbing at her eyes as they did the stuff with the dirt at the end. I didn't remember that part from Dallas's or Trey's funeral. It seemed like something out of a movie to me.

Soda and Ponyboy had their arms looped around each other and I thought again how incredibly difficult this must be. How they must be thinking about their folks, who were buried somewhere nearby.

How fucking strong Soda was, to be helping Steve despite all that.

People started moving away, back towards their cars.

Steve was staring at the grave, rubbing his hand on his jacket, although I was sure it didn't have any dirt left on it. I reached forwards and tucked my hand in his again, to stop him, bringing his attention back.

"Do you wanna...stay a while?" Soda asked him quietly. He indicated all the people leaving. "We can wait for you by the car."

Steve glanced at the grave, then back at Soda. At me. He shook his head slowly. "I guess it's done."

As we walked down towards the cars, I could see the other guys heading towards Darry's truck. Ponyboy stumbled over his feet and Darry reached out and dropped his arm around his shoulders, bending his head to say something. I thought about the three of them having each other, at least, around the house in the days after their parents went.

Once we were in the car, Steve opened the passenger window wide and pulled his tie loose, like he'd been finding it hard to breathe.

"You know there's gonna be people at your pad, right?" Soda said to him, although we'd gone over the arrangements plenty in the last day or so. "They're gonna be talking about your dad, but you don't gotta do anything, say anything, if you don't wanna. Just ride it out, man, they'll be gone soon enough."

"What?" Steve hadn't been listening. Soda caught my eye in the rear view.

I scooted forwards and rubbed Steve's arm. He held my hand and looked out the window again.

xxXxx

The front room was full of people. I escaped to the kitchen with a couple of empty dishes and ran some water into the sink.

"You don't need to do that now." Elle came in, also holding a stack of plates.

I pulled a face. "I think it's better if these ones are done. The neighbors can take 'em right back."

She picked up a dish towel. "Okay. Let me help." She got to it, before I could say yes or no. She asked how long Steve and I had been together and when I told her – without the detailed explanation of our 'lost' three months – she smiled. "I figured. You seem real comfortable with each other. I mean, he's kind of out of it today, I know. But it seems that way."

"Maybe I should go back in."

"Nah. He's got some Army buddy of Uncle Eddie's yakking in his and Sodapop's ears." She looked out of the window, where some guys were smoking in the back yard. "Don't tell me that's little Ponyboy? I thought my eyes were playing a trick on me at the cemetery. Hell, he grew!" She covered her mouth with her free hand. "Oh, Lord, I probably shouldn't say 'hell' at a funeral."

"Probably shouldn't say 'Oh, Lord' neither then," I teased her.

"Oh...well, now I'm stuck!" She grinned at me. Then she went a little pink and turned away from the window. I couldn't see what she was worried about.

The screen snapped open and Two-Bit came into the kitchen.

"I do declare, Miss Elizabeth," he said, in full Rhett Butler mode. "I thought I saw your pretty face in the window."

"Keith Mathews, you are as full of...nonsense as I remember..." Elle caught herself mid sentence.

He winced dramatically. She pulled a face right back.

"An' you know I don't go by Elizabeth. So, Keith, unless, you want..."

"Okay, okay. I hear ya. Stop callin' me that!" He grinned. He studied us and he lazed back against the kitchen table, folding his arms, to do it. "Almost perfect. Two hot chicks in the kitchen. Now if only one of y'all was fetching me a beer..."

We both launched at the same time, but she was nearer, so the dishtowel hit him before the wet cloth I was using. I have a pretty good aim, though, and I got him in the face. I smiled sweetly as I carried the serving dishes back through.

"See ya later, Keith," I said.

A few people had left, because there was space in between everyone now and, as I put the things on the table, an old lady I didn't know claimed a large plate as hers. She patted my hand and told me I was a good girl for cleaning up. I thanked her for the...'food', I had to call it. I had no idea what had been on the plate.

Just like at a party, once a few people left, more began to follow. It's like some kind of unwritten rule, I guess, that it's okay to go once you see that someone else went before you.

Steve and Soda were sitting on the couch with an older guy who was talking about Eddie. Jo was with Soda, curled up next to him. She and Lynette had come over after work. Neither of them knew Eddie, but they were there to support their guys, both of them knowing, like I did, that this must have brought back memories of Mr. and Mrs. Curtis's funeral.

Soda looked real interested in the conversation and, as I perched on the arm of the couch, I realized the guy was talking about his army days, when he and Eddie had been in the same unit.

"Did he never tell you about the time we snuck out and the jeep broke down an' we hadda push it all the way back?"

Steve shook his head. He had an empty glass in his hand and I could see an almost empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the coffee table in front of them. Several of the men had turned up clutching bottles, 'in honor of Eddie'.

I reached for the glass and Steve jumped. He obviously hadn't noticed me sit down. He let me take the glass and then he slid his arm around me. I could tell he wasn't really listening to the guy, but Soda was asking questions in all the right places. I leaned in and gave Steve a hug.

"You okay, baby?"

He looked up at me and shook his head slightly.

"Hang on in there, huh?" I tried to make him smile, but he didn't.

Two-Bit came through, with Elle and Ponyboy, just as the old Army guy decided to leave. The last few people were heading out, including the man I still wasn't sure was a cousin. Steve's Aunt Beth told him to come say goodbye to them. He was a little unsteady as he got to his feet. He'd also about reached his limit of being told what to do, I could tell by the way his jaw twitched.

But, he politely thanked the people for coming, agreed, once again, that he would call if they could help in any way. Most of them were practically strangers, so I have no idea how that was supposed to work. People have to say something, I guess.

While they were by the front door, Elle marshaled Two-Bit and Pony to scoop up the empty glasses and plates and full ashtrays. Darry and Lynette joined in and the place started looking a lot clearer.

When Steve and his aunt came back, she was talking about staying over. I realized she meant staying right there in the house.

Steve said no. Not as rudely as he might have. But more forcefully than he would if he wasn't half crocked. I stood up, starting to get worried.

"But, I can't bear to think of you all alone now," his aunt wailed.

"I ain't alone."

"You're being very brave, but you don't realize –"

"I ain't being fuc... being brave." He caught himself just in time. He was definitely on the way to being wasted. And worse.

Soda was up on his feet now, also a little worse for wear, but focused on Steve, because he heard what I did. Steve was close to losing it. His aunt's husband spoke up for the first time, I swear that was the first time I heard the man's voice. And then all he offered was,

"Settle down, now." No one even looked at him.

Steve took a breath. "Maybe you forget that dad was out of town half the time anyways. It ain't like him not being here is unusual. And when he was here, he didn't much care whether I was."

"Steve!" Beth sounded shocked.

He shrugged, his tone bitter. "Yeah, well. That's just how it was."

She stared at him in horror. "I think you're upset right now, and that's all the more reason I shouldn't leave you on your own."

Steve slung one arm around me, reaching back with the other and grabbing Soda by the shirt, pulling him forwards a step.

"I ain't on my own."

"That's true."

I looked over in surprise, as Darry spoke up. They were all back in the room. I noticed Elle smiling broadly as the other guys came over to our side of the room. It was almost like a standoff.

"Ma'am, believe me. The one thing you don't have to worry about, is Steve being on his own." Darry sounded so calm, so controlled. I wanted to hug him.

"You're obviously good friends but –"

Steve cut across her. "Friends? These are the people who are here for me. Who have always been here for me. These people are family." He shook his head in irritation. "I heard y'all talking 'bout me selling the house and moving up to Kansas. Ain't gonna happen. I got a job here, this is my house, this is where I live."

Elle stepped up, stopped her mom arguing any more, got her moving towards the front door, although she still yakked on and on about how Steve could go and live with them, any time he wanted. Eventually, they left.

Steve stood in the middle of the room, looking around. He moved towards one of the armchairs – it had been shoved sideways, while the room was so full of people and it no longer stood square to the couch, like it always had before. Like his dad had things set.

Then he stopped, frozen with his arm out, without moving the chair back into place.

"Fuck it," he said precisely. And he kicked the chair slightly further out of line.

A/N: So. Here we go again. :) I feel like this was place setting - the story will get going next chapter, I promise. Let me know who's in, 'cause I can update quickly...