Probably a depressing as hell short story. Vietnam fic. Enjoy.
OoO
His boss hands him a stack of folded papers. Missed messages. Darry scrubs a hand down his grizzled face as he sees the name of the caller. His boss rattles off the list of upcoming projects but Darry barely hears him.
Darry glances at his cracked watch. Hopes all is okay at home.
OoO
"I called you," his brother says.
Darry stands at the stove and turns the burner on high. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I got held up at work." Evaluating the contents of their cupboards, Darry opts for spaghetti, pulling back the lid, and dumping a can of sauce in the pan.
"I called you five times."
Darry lowers the heat, ready to get into whatever his brother wants. Anything Ponyboy wants to say, Darry will listen. Not too long ago, Pony wouldn't talk. And so, now, if Ponyboy wants to wax philosophic about the weather, the tedium of life, why the sky is blue, Darry will wait in silence for his words. Darry would do anything for this one kid.
When he turns around Ponyboy is gone.
OoO
Darry remembers last year. He'll always remember when Soda got his draft notice. How Soda accepted it, rational, though frightened. Darry expected Ponyboy to break down then and there but he didn't. To his credit, Ponyboy put up a fight and when it came time for Soda to go he rallied too.
Darry didn't see it until six months ago but Pony was the one who held them together when Soda was gone. Pony was the anchor when Darry couldn't be.
Being blind to it was his first mistake.
OoO
Darry remembers Soda told the two of them to take care of each other. And Pony had tried. Darry was busy and afraid. He was short when he shouldn't have been. Nagged but only because he wanted Pony home on time and safe. Pony would ask him to go to a movie and Darry would brush him off, counting on Two-Bit too many times to act as a distraction. Darry had bills to pay and mouths to feed.
If Darry didn't talk, and move fast, and work hard, then life would fly by; as if he could speed up Soda's homecoming by living life textbook.
Darry's shortness was really fear but Pony didn't know. Still, the kid kept on his best face while Darry kept his brother in his own periphery. Without meaning to, he unconsciously shut Ponyboy out. Pony was so willing to help. To try and talk. But Darry didn't hear him until Soda was really gone and by then it was too late.
OoO
The sauce is still bubbling when Pony returns.
"Darry," Ponyboy says and his green eyes are big, wide and serious, reminding Darry of when Pony used to be a kid. Before life started to hurt him. When he was young, just 12, maybe 13. When he had people around who didn't leave him.
Pony holds a shaky hand out, whiteness clutched. He has that look from six months ago, vacant, and it frightens Darry.
"What's this?" Darry asks, taking the letter. Nothing good comes from a letter and he looks into his brother's frightened eyes. Pony doesn't say anything so Darry opens the folded paper. He reads. His heart hurts.
"No," Darry says simply. "No."
Pony's a week away from turning 18. The letter sent early. This can't happen. Not again.
"What do I do?" Pony asks, his face pale white. White like that night Two-Bit found him. "What do I do, Darry?" Pony's voice rises, high and shaky. Darry sticks a hand out. Pony's better but he's still held together by a thin rope.
Darry makes him sit down before he falls down.
OoO
Darry remembers saying goodbye. The hardness of the hug, the warmth, the shaking bones. He squeezed Soda and when they pulled away, neither of them was crying. Instead his brother looked like stone. And when Darry said, "Come home to us," Soda had replied, "You know I will."
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They want to take him. His last, remaining brother.
Soda's MIA. Somewhere, probably dead (though he'd never voice this to Ponyboy), in the jungles of Vietnam and Ponyboy's just barely gotten his sanity back. Darry's just barely gotten his legs back. Then this letter comes. Darry wants to ask them just who in the hell do they think they are but he has no voice. This happens to everyone. He's no different. Thousands of boys dead. The war swallowing them and their screams up.
It's why he avoids the news. Darry hasn't read the paper in months. It's the reason he watches his youngest brother with wary fear. He just got Ponyboy back. Mind whole and finally clear.
If only Pony had applied to college. If only he hadn't sat out a semester because of Sodapop.
Because of Soda.
Soda.
OoO
"I'll figure something out."
"There's nothing to figure out," Pony says. Whispers. "Nothing."
"You should eat," Darry says. The spaghetti's cold now. It doesn't matter. They both need food.
"I'm not hungry."
"Pony, you can't—"
"I'm not, Darry."
Darry looks at his brother. Pony glances at a spot over Darry's head. "It's slow," he says.
"What is?"
"The clock," Pony says strangely. "It's five minutes slow."
Darry shoves the plate over, trying to ignore what's just happened. "Eat, Pony. I'll fix the clock."
OoO
Darry remembers Ponyboy's hope. Before Soda was declared missing. How Pony would reread the letters from Sodapop over and over again until they began to fray and tatter. Soda's letters to Pony were always different than the ones Darry received. They were still honest just not dark. Even in his letters to Darry Soda stayed upbeat. Positive. Darry couldn't tell if his brother was affected. He didn't know what scared him more.
OoO
After dinner, after Pony's gone to bed, Darry slips into Pony's bedroom. He watches that moving, breathing bundle of blankets. He does this often. Standing in the darkness, keeping his brother in his sights.
Darry's got guilt. These days, Darry just exists. He lives for Ponyboy. Because without him his life means nothing. He only has one left.
OoO
It's like a game now...trying to survive, to get them through to the end. There was once a time when Darry was good at it. Making lunches, working two jobs, calming nightmares, but now his life is so much more. A direction he got lumped with. And that was the easy part—after his parents. Sure, it was hard dealing with two teenagers but he never expected the death. So much death. Ponyboy's lost his mind and Darry has to keep it together. Keep them together. It's his turn.
OoO
Darry remembers when Steve went, following Soda to a place none of them could imagine. They drove him to the airport and before Steve boarded the plane, Ponyboy wrapped his arms around his waist and hugged him. Steve swore but he hugged the kid back just as hard.
OoO
Darry doesn't have many people to ask their opinion but he does have one who is still around.
His friend pulls out a chair and sits. They don't do this much. They see each other often but it's casual or when he's visiting the kid. The kid. All they call him now. The one left. They went from seven to four. And if you really count Steve, there's just the three of them.
Darry hands him a beer, and bones creaking, sits across from him. Darry shows Two-Bit the letter. Two-Bit's eyes get big and angry. "Send him away," Two-Bit says the minute he finishes reading. He crumples the notice in his fist. "Send him away now."
Darry's never seen his oldest friend this serious. Sickened, lights dimmed in those grey eyes of his. Two-Bit meets his eyes. He doesn't flinch. None of them do anymore. "Not after Soda," Two-Bit says. "Not Pony."
Two-Bit is right. Darry knows this. He'll protect his brother. Darry means this protection. It's just him and Ponyboy and he means to keep it like that. He can't lose another one. Never.
"He's gotta run," Two-Bit says. "You gotta make him, Darrel."
The words make Darry want to throw up. Because he doesn't think Ponyboy will. "I'll try, Two-Bit," Darry says. "I gotta talk some sense into him but I don't know if he'll listen." Especially these days, he wants to add, but doesn't.
"Then hurt him," Two-Bit says, reading Darry's unsaid words, and this catches Darry's attention. "Hurt him if you have to. If he won't go. Not bad. Just enough to keep him here. Keep him alive."
OoO
Darry remembers. He'll always remember when Soda's letters faded. Cut off abruptly, like a faucet stopped. Pony kept writing. Worrying. Finally, they got a call. The man on the phone who told them Soda had gone MIA. Lost over in Vietnam. Better than dead, the man had offered as a condolence. Darry wanted to reach through the phone and strangle him.
OoO
Darry remembers telling Ponyboy about Soda. Pony had sat on the edge of the couch, already planning to run. Because they didn't have conversations like this. Only the one conversation they shouldn't have begins like this.
Ponyboy had bolted out of the house and screamed across the front yard.
OoO
Darry was right. Pony wants to go down with Sodapop. "You want me to run? I can't run."
"I do," Darry says.
Normally, Darry would never run. He's not a coward, but Darry's desperate. His family's whittled down to two. He'd go in Pony's place if he could. He should have gone in Soda's.
"The war's almost over," Ponyboy says in a slow stilt. "Maybe if I go to basic training by the time it comes—"
"No, Ponyboy," Darry says. "You have got to leave."
"But—but what about you?"
"Don't worry about me."
Pony shakes his head, his face scrunches up. "I won't leave you. I won't go and I won't run. I'll figure something out."
Stretching an arm out, Darry says, "Oh, kiddo…"
"I don't want to leave you, Darry. I ain't afraid to die. I just don't want to leave you."
"C'mere." Darry hugs him. Ponyboy stops talking.
OoO
Darry remembers the swap that happened. Before they got the MIA letter, Pony was there. Upbeat and waiting for Sodapop. After it came, Pony disappeared. Darry figures this is his punishment for not being aware of his existing brother, for being so consumed in grief, he had blinders on.
OoO
Darry will always remember himself. Locking his bedroom door and just staring at the knob. Wishing it were him instead of Soda. Hearing Ponyboy crying through the thin walls. Darry stopped talking to his parents a long time ago. He never thought he should start again.
OoO
He talks to people who can keep secrets. Where he should send his brother, tactics to get him out of service, simply claiming they never got the letter. The war's almost over – he wonders why they need Ponyboy. Wonders if they can stall until it's called off.
Tim Shepherd tells Darry Canada is the best bet. "They'll treat him right over there, Darrel." "He should have no trouble comin' back when it's over. And if he does, well at least he's alive."
Darry's surprised. He had readied himself for Tim's casual disappointment. Greasers don't run. But these days, Tim is weary and drained. Angie's dead and Curly's dead. He gets how Darry feels.
Tim smokes his cigarette. "We all gotta do what we gotta do. You got one left. Keep him."
OoO
"Dinner, Pone."
"I already ate."
Darry evaluates the two empty packets of Lucky's. "You smoke your dinner?"
"I ain't hungry, Dar."
Darry bangs on the wall. "We're not doin' this again. Kitchen. Five minutes."
OoO
Darry remembers not caring about anyone other than Sodapop at that time. How he missed all the goddamn signs. After Soda went MIA, Pony lost the strength he had when Soda was simply over in Vietnam. Because at lease Soda was there. He was tangible. Sunk in his grief but barreling through it, staying with Soda meant that Darry deserted Ponyboy.
Pony didn't eat and he didn't sleep and Darry never noticed.
OoO
Darry remembers. He'll always remember Two-Bit. The day the jokes stopped coming when Darry told him about Sodapop. He also remembers Two-Bit's yell. The shout that echoed through the house when they found Ponyboy.
OoO
Two nights later, Pony doesn't come home. Darry tries to read. Paces. He calls Two-Bit and his friend comes over. He overreacts these days but Ponyboy always comes home. Especially since Soda's been gone.
But Darry thinks of Pony's fragile state, how he lost his mind six months ago, and worries. Two-Bit picks up the phone and dials. He listens a beat, hangs up, and says, "Randle."
OoO
Darry remembers. He remembers Steve coming back a junkie. An invisible needle still stuck in his arm when he climbed off that plane. How Steve, glassy-eyed and stoned, railed against invisible forces, blaming and hating and cursing. Ponyboy had shrunk back, confused and not getting it. Steve couldn't speak his best friend's name. Now it's just a whisper.
OoO
When they find him, he's just sitting there, on a worn and tattered couch, watching Steve shoot up with whatever shit he puts in his veins. Darry says his brother's name but Pony barely sees them. He doesn't move.
So he doesn't kill him, Darry sticks his hands in his pockets, asks Steve what his brother took.
"Nothin," Steve grunts and his eyes go dark with the drug. "Ain't took a damn thing. Should have though. Make him feel a lot better."
Two-Bit calls Steve an idiot and squats next to him. Looks over the needles and the spoons spread out on the table.
Steve's still a friend. A friend they can't help. Darry doesn't blame him for what he does. But that doesn't mean he wants his brother around it. They've already had the tired fight with Steve. Trying to get him to give it up. Eventually they gave up. Steve fought with everyone. Now they're just there when they can be.
"It should have been me," a voice says and Darry realizes it's Ponyboy. "It should have been me. Not Soda."
"And it will be you," Steve says. "If you take that ride, it'll be you, kid. Don't worry about that."
"Shut the fuck up," Two-Bit says. "Just shut up, Randle."
"Just two left. And then there's me. And let's face it, I may not be around long either."
"Stop it with your bullshit," Darry says to Steve. He pulls Ponyboy up, off the couch, and wraps an arm around him. Numb, Ponyboy sways; the thousand-yard stare from six months ago is back. Darry wants to slap him, to knock him out of it but he can't. Not here. Not now.
Two-Bit stands and reaches for the kid and Darry passes his brother over to Two-Bit. He lets him take Ponyboy away. Out of that house.
Steve raises his head, speaks. "Can you picture that kid holding a gun, let alone firin' one? Nah. I don't, Darrel. I picture him bleeding long before he shoots a Gook. Dying just like his brother. Except this time you'll get a body back. This time he'll come home."
"Clean yourself up, Steve," Darry says. "For Soda if nothing else."
Steve chokes out a guttural laugh. "For Soda. That used to mean something to me, Darrel. Not anymore. Never again."
Steve flips a lighter on, raises a spoon, and Darry leaves.
OoO
Darry remembers the day he actually saw it. Ponyboy sitting in Darry's recliner, staring at a book. Not reading, just staring. The eyes, glazed and vapid. His cheeks hollow and flushed. Darry had frowned, asked Pony if he wanted dinner.
Mute, Pony shook his head. He didn't say anything, just turned the page. It was the first time Darry wondered if he should be worried.
OoO
Darry gets Pony home and talks to him. Two-Bit stays too. He always stays. The one dependable person in Darry's life and how he'll thank him Darry doesn't know.
"It shouldn't have been you, Pony," Darry says. "It never should have been Soda either. It's a shit life, kiddo, and I'm so damn sorry."
Ponyboy stares at his hands until Darry glances at Two-Bit, glances back at his brother and says, "Ponyboy, do you understand?"
"Kid. Please." Two-Bit snaps his fingers and something like life flickers in Ponyboy's eyes.
"I hear you," Pony says.
That's not the answer Darry wants.
OoO
Pardon typos.
This will probably be very short. Maybe three chapters. This idea has been in my head a while. Some parts may be slightly farfetched and/or improbable (hopefully not though) but I really wanted to write this anyway.
I hope you're okay with that.
XO,
Feisty