Darry startled awake to the sound of the bathroom door closing.
He was in Dad's old armchair, having fallen asleep watching reruns of Dragnet.
He glanced at the clock. 10:39 pm. Ponyboy had claimed he was going to bed long ago. Darry just assumed he wasn't interested in Dragnet. He figured, when he went to check on the kid around 9:15, that he'd find him with his nose buried in a book. But instead he found him fast asleep, out like a light, well before 10:00 on a Friday night.
Maybe Soda was right, he thought to himself. Maybe the kid is coming down with something.
Darry wiped the sleep from his eyes, the drool from his mouth, and sat up, listening intently. Even over the soft background noise of Dragnet, he could hear running water. It was the shower - he could tell by the noise it made when the scattered stream of water bounced off the plastic shower curtain.
But why was Pony taking a shower now? After he'd already been fast asleep? It didn't make any sense.
Darry rose from the armchair, blinking a few times to get his bearings. He'd really dozed off. Working ten hour work days at his new roofing job was starting to take its toll.
He crossed the room to turn off the TV, still listening closely. Now he could hear the hum of the ice box, the noise from the street outside, and still, the running water from the shower. But over all of that, he could hear the unmistakeable sounds of his youngest brother retching. He was sick. And it made Darry's heart sink into his toes.
Darry rubbed a tired hand over his face and sighed heavily, wishing - with all his might - that Soda was there and not out on a date with Sandy.
Darry had always envied the relationship his younger brothers had with each other. Soda was able to connect with Pony in ways Darry couldn't even imagine. Darry had always felt distant from Ponyboy, even more so now that their parents had passed. The closer Darry tried to get, the further Pony would push him away. They had virtually nothing in common. Sodapop was the only common denominator they had.
And Ponyboy's world revolved around Soda. He worshipped the guy. And Soda loved the kid, too. More than anything. He'd always been protective of him. He knew when to tease him and he knew when to back off, just on intuition alone. One look at Ponyboy, and Soda could tell if something was up. If something needed to be fixed.
And he had known tonight. Soda had known Ponyboy was sick. He'd even voiced his concerns with Darry; almost canceled his date with Sandy.
"Did Ponyboy seem off to you tonight?" Soda asked, looking at himself in the mirror, trying to decide which shirt to wear. Darry was there to help.
"Off?" Darry questioned. "What do you mean?"
"He seemed quiet at dinner. Didn't eat much."
Darry shrugged. "I didn't notice," he said honestly. "He's probably okay, Soda. Pony gets distant sometimes."
Soda sighed. "I know - I just… have a feeling." He unbuttoned his shirt, unsatisfied with what he'd seen in the mirror. "I dunno, maybe I ought to cancel with Sandy tonight."
Darry reached for the next shirt and handed it to Soda. "Well I ain't gonna let you do that, little buddy. You've been lookin' forward to this all week." Darry gave him a reassuring smile. "Besides, I'll be here. There's nothing to worry about."
Soda nodded, but he still didn't seem too sure. "What do you think of this shirt?" he asked, turning sideways to look at himself in the mirror from a different angle.
"That's the one," Darry said as enthusiastically as he could muster. Sodapop looked just fine in any shirt, and Darry thought this whole "elimination process" was pretty ridiculous.
"You think?" Soda wondered. "I'll go ask Pony." He disappeared out of the room, and Darry shook his head after him.
Darry's thoughts were interrupted when he heard Ponyboy retch a second time. Then a third. Then a fourth…
Shit.
Darry hurried into the hallway and approached the closed bathroom door quickly, but he froze when he raised his fist to knock on the door. He was afraid. Darry was afraid of his own brother. Afraid that Ponyboy wouldn't want him.
Darry let out a deep breath and shook himself. It didn't matter if Pony didn't want him. He needed him, and right now, Darry was all he had.
Darry bit down on his lip and rapped his knuckles on the door. "Ponyboy?"
No response. Just the sound of running water.
"Ponyboy? You okay in there?" Darry's voice had crept up an octave from its usual pitch. It made him realize just how worried he was about the kid.
He heard Ponyboy cough. "I'm okay," came a weak reply.
"Well, it doesn't sound like it, kiddo," Darry said. "I'm comin' in." He pushed the door open slowly, wincing as the stench of vomit hit his nostrils.
Pony was hunched over the toilet, kneeling, his elbows resting on the toilet seat, his head dangling limp between his arms. He was coughing lightly, spitting strings of saliva into the bowl before him.
Darry remained at the doorway for a moment, swallowing hard as he took in the sight of his miserable brother. "Oh, Pony," he breathed, nothing but sympathy for the kid.
Ponyboy remained still. Darry could see how the sweat seeped through his shirt, the traces of vomit on his chin, his hair matted and wet. Instinctively, Darry grabbed a washcloth from the rack and ran it under some cool water. Then he rung it out and turned off the faucet.
He positioned himself, kneeling, behind his brother; slipping the wet rag under the tufts of hair on the back of Pony's neck. Ponyboy seemed to tense at the touch, which was the opposite reaction Darry had been going for. "Easy, Pony," he soothed. "Just relax."
With his free hand, he reached beside him and turned the water from the shower off, his arm getting a little damp in the process. "Why'd you turn the shower on?" he wondered out loud.
Ponyboy coughed again. "Didn't want you… to hear," he managed between his ragged breaths.
Darry felt his eyes prick with tears. Pony was trying to hide being sick. He didn't want Darry there with him.
"Please, Darry," Ponyboy begged softly, pulling himself closer to the toilet. "Just go." He barely made out his words, as the urge to gag overcame him once more.
Even though Darry had expected this, had expected to be rejected, he felt a stab of pain in his heart. He wished, once again, that Sodapop was here. Because if Mom and Dad weren't there - and they weren't - he knew that Soda was who his youngest brother wanted. And no one could replace him.
But Darry was determined to try.
"I ain't goin' anywhere," Darry said softly, scooting closer to his brother, helping him lean further over the toilet as he threw up again. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me, kid."
When Pony stopped gagging for a brief moment, he covered his head with his arms, hiding his face from Darry. "Please," he said again, his voice coming out in a choked sob. "I-I don't…" he took a wavering breath. "I don't want you to see."
Darry felt another twinge in his chest. Because Ponyboy was not rejecting him. Pony was embarrassed. Darry felt a slight wave of relief, but a more empowering wave of fresh heartbreak. Ponyboy would rather suffer alone than face the humiliation of being ill in front Darry.
Darry could visibly see how upset this was making Ponyboy. His entire body was trembling, tears were spilling from his eyes. And Darry knew he needed to calm his brother down.
"Ponyboy, look at me," Darry said, pulling him upright, away from the toilet. He had one hand cupped behind his brother's head, keeping him steady, the other clutching the washcloth from Pony's neck.
Ponyboy reluctantly opened his bleary eyes. Gosh, but he looked sick. Tears and snot, streaming down his face, sweat beading at his forehead, the vomit remnants on his chin. His pale pallor, the flushed cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes… Darry would give anything to switch places with the kid. Anything to keep him from feeling so awful, so embarrassed.
Carefully, Darry took the wet rag and pressed it to Pony's forehead, first wiping the sweat from his brow. Then he wiped Pony's cheeks, his nose, his chin, around his mouth. "That feels better, doesn't it?" Darry said gently, tossing the soiled cloth into the sink.
Pony just squeezed his eyes shut, embarrassed still. But Darry was relieved when he nodded slightly.
Absently, Darry thumbed away the tears that continued to leak out of Pony's eyes and down his cheeks. He cupped a hand on his forehead.
"I'm sorry," Pony mumbled suddenly.
Darry frowned as he pulled his hand back from Pony's feverish skin. "For what, Pone?"
Pony just reopened his eyes as a response, curling his arms around his aching stomach. For this.
Darry smiled sadly and reached for his brother, praying that he wouldn't resist. He didn't. Pony let himself fall into Darry's arms, burying his head into the crevice of big brother's neck.
Darry didn't know if he should be relieved that Ponyboy was letting him embrace him, or worried that he was letting himself be so vulnerable. Darry knew just how sick Pony had to be feeling if he was letting Darry hold him like that. "It's okay," Darry said, keeping his voice calm. "You don't have to apologize for being sick, Pony."
They fell quiet once again, Darry rubbing soft circles on Pony's back.
"Pone," Darry said softly, after Pony's breaths had slowed. "How long have you felt sick?"
Darry felt Ponyboy pull away from his chest, and he leaned up heavily against the side of the bathtub. "Since this morning," he answered guiltily, looking down at his hands.
Darry breathed deeply, his gut filled with regret. How had he not noticed? Soda had noticed. Soda was willing to give up his night with Sandy, all on a hunch that Pony wasn't well.
"Hey, Pony, you sure you're alright?" Soda had asked, just moments before he left to pick up Sandy. He had the back of his hand pressed against Pony's forehead.
"I'm fine, Soda," Pony had answered through gritted teeth. "Just a little tired is all."
"You'd tell me if you weren't okay, wouldn't you?" Soda asked. He'd always been the master of guilt trips.
"Yeah, you know I would," Pony assured him, obviously lying based on recent events.
Soda looked him up and down one more time. "Okay," he gave in. "Get some rest tonight, you hear? I want you at 100% when we go to the drag races tomorrow."
Ponyboy grinned. "I will," he promised. "Have fun with Sandy, Soda."
Soda ruffled his hair and turned to the front door.
"You have enough money?" Darry asked, walking Soda to the door.
"Yeah, I'm good," he answered. He lowered his voice as he stepped out onto the porch. "Keep a close eye on the kid, okay, Darry? I'm tellin' you, somethin' ain't right."
"Quit worryin' so much," Darry said lightly. "Just go have fun with your girl. I'll hold down the fort here."
"S'okay, Darry," Pony said, his weak voice breaking into Darry's thoughts. "You didn't know." Darry imagined his face must've looked pretty guilty for Ponyboy to try and comfort him when he was sicker than a dog.
"Yeah, well I should've known," Darry said heavily. "You want to try some water, kiddo?"
Ponyboy swallowed. "Okay," he said timidly, keeping one hand over his stomach.
Darry smiled sadly as he stood up. "I know it doesn't sound too appealing. But I want you to try. I don't want you getting dehydrated."
Pony bobbed his head up and down in understanding.
Darry filled a dixie cup with tap water and held it out to his brother. "Take it slow," he instructed.
Ponyboy took merely two sips of the water before shaking his head and handing the cup back to Darry. "It's not gonna stay down," he said, his voice in a slight panic, his face contorted from his sudden wave of nausea.
Darry quickly set the cup back down on the sink, then he slipped his hand behind Pony's back and helped slide him back over to the toilet.
Pony leaned over the toilet as the water came rushing up; bringing slimy bile along with it. And then Pony started dry heaving.
"Easy," Darry cooed, feeling his brother tremble with each attempted omission from his abdomen. "Just breathe, Pony. Breathe through it."
Ponyboy was crying again, and Darry didn't blame him. He knew how painful dry heaving could be from his own experience. Darry clenched his jaw. He hated seeing Pony like this.
Ponyboy coughed loudly, nearly choking, and it caused Darry's heart to beat a thousand times faster.
"Pony?"
Pony gasped, catching his breath and swallowing. "I'm okay," he managed.
Darry felt himself relax, ever so slightly. But then Pony retched again, this time bringing up some more actual vomit. Darry winced as bile connected with toilet water, and his brother moaned in discomfort.
"Darry…" Pony's voice sounded so strangled. Make it stop.
He lifted his head to look at his big brother, regretting it when he coughed violently, causing more bile to spill out from his lips and dribble onto his T-shirt.
Pony looked horrified, his eyes welling up tears. "Hey, it's okay," Darry said immediately, helping his brother lean back over the toilet, where he threw up once more.
And then it was quiet; Ponyboy was focused on catching his breath, Darry was focused on rubbing circles in the sick kid's back. They didn't speak while the pair nervously waited to see if this round of sickness had any more revolt left.
After five minutes, Ponyboy pushed himself away from the toilet, sighing deeply. Darry sighed too, glad that the current crisis seemed to have passed.
"You okay?" Darry asked, reaching up to flush away the mess.
Ponyboy managed a nod. "For now," he croaked.
"Do you want to head back to bed?" Darry asked. "You might be more comfortable…"
But Ponyboy shook his head, curling his arms around his middle. "I think I still might…" he glanced at the toilet reluctantly. "I think I should stay in here."
Darry smiled sadly at his brother. "Okay, kiddo," he said. "Let's get you cleaned up, huh? Then we'll set up camp in here."
Very carefully, Darry pulled Pony's soiled shirt over his head and tossed it in the sink along with the soiled washcloth. Then he got a fresh washcloth down from the rack and ran some water over it.
"Here, kid," he said lightly, handing the cloth over to Pony. "Think you can manage wiping yourself up some?" he asked. "It'll feel good, I promise."
Pony nodded vaguely, his eyes drooping as he took the cloth from Darry. He had to be exhausted.
"Hang tight, Pone, I'll be right back."
Darry slipped out the bathroom door, making a beeline for his Pony's room. He grabbed a fresh T-shirt from his dresser and slung it over his shoulder. Then he went into his own room, grabbing every pillow, his sheet, and his comforter. He wanted to leave Pony's bed made up for if and when he was well enough to go back to bed.
Ponyboy was absently rubbing his chest with the cloth when he returned, his head lolling slightly to one side. Darry lifted his limp brother up so he could slide a pillow underneath him, in an effort to get him off the cold tile floor.
He put the other pillow between Pony and the wall and and kneeled down in front of him. He took the cloth away from Pony and tossed it in the sink. "Pony here, put this on," Darry said, holding the shirt out to him. "Do you need help?"
Ponyboy shook his head. "I can do it."
Darry let him, while he settled in on the other side of the kid, knowing this was going to be a long night. He pulled the comforter close, bundling his brother up the best he could.
Darry was touched when Ponyboy slumped against his shoulder, instead of opting for the pillow against the wall. He held onto his brother tightly. "Go to sleep, Pony," he whispered softly. "I'll be right here."
He brushed the kid's bangs out of his face, and felt the weight of his brother relax. The kid was out like a light within seconds.
Darry couldn't help but smile to himself. He wished with all his might that Pony hadn't gotten sick - that he hadn't been put through this torture tonight. But as he held his youngest brother in his arms, it felt good. This hadn't happened in a long time. And Darry was glad to feel needed.
He felt closer to Ponyboy than he had in months. He was content with that. For now, he'd stepped up and filled Soda's shoes. And hell, he'd done a pretty good job. But he knew that when Sodapop returned, he'd be second best again.
Darry yawned and glanced down at his little brother. He looked peaceful now - face still flushed from fever - but peaceful all the same. Darry let out a deep breath and closed his own eyes; telling himself not to drift off too deeply in case Pony needed him…
He awoke later, to the sound of the front door creaking open, realizing he must've dozed off more than he'd planned. He looked down at Pony, relieved to find him still asleep. He listened as footsteps made their way down the hall. And then Sodapop appeared in the doorway.
TBC…