"What's happening? What's happening, Dar-ry?" Soda asked, tugging his brother's shirtsleeve. At two years old, he managed to elongate every syllable he spoke.

"Mommy's having a baby," Darry whispered, pulling Soda close. He did not like the way the walls of the hallway were all so identical; what if they got lost?

"What?" Soda asked, his tone lacking the reverence that one might expect from a hospital waiting room. Darry tightened his grip on Soda, glaring at the nurses who dared to look at them with contempt; Soda was only a little kid! Still, he caught sight of their dirty, secondhand clothing and felt ashamed.

"What?" Soda repeated. His lower lip was trembling impatiently, and he started to pull at Darry's hair now.

"Let go," Darry insisted quickly, and Soda gave a little yell. One of the doctors slammed his clipboard against a counter.

"How old are you son?" he asked, peering over wide-framed glasses.

Darry started, staring up and patting Soda's arm to quiet him. "Six," he replied softly, shrinking against the wall.

"Six years old?" the man asked, doubtful. "What are you doing here alone?"

"Mommy's having a baby," Soda said, proud at echoing his brother's words so exactly.

"Oh." The doctor cleared his throat with gruff disapproval, and tensed. "Well, make sure not to make too much of a disturbance."

"We will," Darry repeated. He could only imagine what they were thinking, watching such dirty kids in a clean place like this. He wished they'd remembered to bath this morning.

He did all he could to distract Soda then, making sure his voice stayed quiet. It wasn't like he was so old himself, but he was responsible. Mature for his age. Adults often said that he possessed the natural quality of leadership.

An hour passed, and soon an hour and a half. Soda didn't understand what was going on – he was merely fidgety with boredom – but Darry understood perfectly well. He kept his eyes focused on the swinging doors, waiting for someone to bring them news. They would have a baby brother or sister soon.

His glance flickered over to Soda, and he wondered how things would be different now. He quite liked having a brother, a mother, and a father; he didn't want anyone else, really. But this would be hard enough on Soda, who didn't even know what was coming, and so Darry had to stay calm. Stay calm. Be the big brother. That's what his dad had told him on his fifth birthday. He'd said that Darry was old enough to start taking more responsibility, and act like a big brother to Sodapop. So that's what he'd done. After all, Darry wanted to be just like his father. Darry was named after him, you know.

"Hungry," Soda said suddenly, his thumb finger traveling between his lips. He sucked on it thoughtfully, looking up at his brother with inquisitive eyes. "Hungry," he repeated, drooling all over his collar.

"Mommy will be back soon," Darry said, hoping that it was true. He was beginning to feel restless. Still, over an hour passed before anyone came to find them. Soda was bouncing all across the hallway at this point, and several hospital attendants told them to quiet down.

"It's a boy!" Darryl Senior said, bursting into the waiting room. He was grinning madly, his arms going out to catch his little boys.

"What's his name?" Darry piped.

"Oh, we don't know yet." Darryl's expression grew dreamy. "Something with horses, I think." He paused, folding his hands. "Do you remember the story of how your mother and I met?"

"You went riding!" Soda said, jumbling the words in his toddler-speak.

"You're going to name him something with horses?" Darry asked, a funny feeling wrapping around his stomach. It was bad enough having a brother named Sodapop; he didn't want to think about having a brother named 'Saddle'.

"I think so," Darryl confirmed, straightening out his back. "Now boys, how are you?"

"Can we see Mommy?" Darry asked, by way of an answer.

"Not right away," his father replied at once, shaking his head with vehemence. "You won't be able to see her for a few days, I'm afraid."

"Or the baby…?" Darry asked, feeling foolishly relieved. He wasn't prepared to meet the new member of the family just yet.

"That's right," Darryl amended. "Now I need you both to be big boys, alright? Having a baby takes a lot of work. Do you remember when Soda was born, Darry?"

"Yeah," Darry replied quietly. That was before his grandmother had died, and he'd gone to stay there. He distinctly remembered not liking Sodapop at all.

"Well, a baby's a lot of work," Darryl reiterated. "You'll both need to be brave little soldiers, alright?"

"Alright Daddy!" Soda said, not understanding a word of it. He jumped up and down, his endless energy wafting out his ears.

Darry backed slowly away from his father, nearly tripping over the bench. He had this strange feeling, tugging at the lining of his stomach. "I want to see Mommy," he said softly, his voice wobbling. "I wanna see her."

"You can't just yet," Darryl insisted. His eyes turned a shade of cool impatience, rather than their ordinary compassion. "Darry…" he sighed. "Darry, I'm afraid you have to understand me…" He hesitated, trying to figure how best to say it. "Darry, your mother and I are going to be very busy," he said gently. "We might not have so much time for you and Soda, for a little while."

Darry turned on his father, eyes ripe with betrayal. What about his birthday, and Christmas? Would their parents be too busy for them then? The thought brought furious tears to his eyes, and he felt his nose stuff up as he began to cry. "No, no," he wailed. "I wanna see Mommy now!" All maturity was lost, and he dissolved into the six-year-old that he deserved to be.

Darryl strode carefully over to his son, his golden heart overridden by a flaring temper. He struck Darry quickly on the behind. It wasn't hard, it was barely even a spank, but Darry's tears dried up in shock. Soda stared up at the pair of them, wide-eyed, and put his thumb back into his mouth.

"Please," Darryl whispered, speaking to both of his sons. "I need you to be grown up for a little bit, okay?" He ran a hand through his graying hair, shaking his head. "Please?"

Darry nodded, hugging himself around the middle. "Yes Daddy," he said meekly. Now Darryl looked ashamed of himself.

"I'll bring you home in a few hours, okay? Try to get some sleep." He shrugged off his ratty jacket, laying it on the bench like a blanket. "I'll see you soon," he repeated, retreating back behind the swinging doors.

Darry sat down, wiping his nose with his finger.

"What's wrong?" Soda asked, looking scared. He hated it when Darry got upset.

"Nothing," Darry replied, sobbing just a little. "You wouldn't understand."

Soda began to pout. "I would!" he exclaimed, glaring at his brother.

"No you wouldn't!" Darry retorted, breaking his own rule by shouting at Sodapop.

"Shh!" a nurse said, looking over at them. "If you can't keep it down, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Darry didn't bother to apologize. He drew his knees up to his chest, feeling altogether miserable.

"Darry," Soda said. His pout was gone, and he seemed as sympathetic as any two-year-old could. "Darry." He climbed halfheartedly onto Darry's lap, and Darry hugged him tightly.

"I hate it here," he said bitterly, shaking his head. He was talking mostly to himself, but Soda began to stroke his hair the way their mother did to them sometimes. "I hate the stupid hospital," Darry said. He and Soda clung together, Soda crying with him even though he didn't understand.

Darry wished their parents would come back. More than anything, he just wanted attention from them. He didn't like the way they were losing their happy family.

"Darry, Darry," Soda said, pulling at him. Darry smiled a little, recognizing his brother's desired to keep everyone happy. "Darry," Soda repeated, "I hate the hospital too."

A/N: Hey, thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! Whether you did or didn't, can you please leave me a review? Thanks! At the moment, I think this story is going to have four chapters.