A/N: Hey guys! This is a one-shot I came up with while listening to one of my favorite songs, Hero of War, by Rise Against. I suggest you listen to it if you don't know what it is, just to give you an idea of what this one-shot will be! I'm not into song-fics much, but I decided to give it a try.

Disclaimer: I don't own the song Hero of War or The Outsiders. Since this is a song-fic, I ask no flames, thank you!

Now please, R & R, and enjoy!

XxX

He said, "Son, have you seen the world?"

Well, what would you say if I said that you could?

Sodapop came home one day to find such a sight in his living room; Darry was sitting on the couch, holding Ponyboy in a one-arm hug, as said boy was had his head on his oldest brother's chest and was crying. Darry himself was on the verge of crying as well.

Ponyboy threw himself at Sodapop, wrapping frail arms around his brother's chest and sobbing. Sodapop, without understanding what the fuss was about, hugged his baby brother's shaking form and rubbed his back. He sent a look at Darry, silently asking him what happened, when the oldest brother slowly stood up and grabbed an envelope and handed it to this confused sibling.

"Soda...you got drafted."

Ponyboy only cried harder.

Just carry this gun and you'll even get paid."I said, "That sounds pretty good."

The day Sodapop had to leave was the hardest for his two brothers and the gang. Steve had also enrolled, without hesitation.

The young mechanic put his hands on Darry's and Ponyboy's shoulders. "I'll protect him, guys. I'll make sure he doesn't play hero.

Ponyboy could only nod, while Darry squeezed Steve's shoulder back in appreciation. "You be careful too, Randle. Follow your own advice." Steve grimly nodded his head, using his other hand to ruffle Ponyboy's hair.

"You be good, kiddo. Keep makin' those grades of yours and stay a smartass for me." Ponyboy nodded again with a small smile and watched as his brother's best friends turned his back on him, walking away without looking back. It was too bad; he had learned to appreciate Steve Randle in the past few months, and now it was too late to apologize for all that he had done.

But, unbeknownst to him, Steve didn't need his apologies. Steve only needed for the boy to stick to his own advice.

Next and last, came Sodapop. Holding a small duffel back slung on his left shoulder, he carefully made his way to his two brothers, still grinning brightly. His grin slightly faded when he noticed that his younger brother was tearing up.

He cupped the boy's chin in his hand and raised his head to look the boy in the eyes. "You listen to me good, baby. You be good to Darry while I'm gone."

"I-I don't want you gone," Ponyboy sniffed. "I want you home, with me and Darry."

Sodapop shushed his baby brother. "I know, kiddo, but I promise I'll be back." At Ponyboy's lack of answer, he pursed his lips. "Kiddo, no matter how tight money is, don't make the same mistake I made. I don't regret dropping out, even now, but Vietnam isn't where you should go. Stay in school and keep hitting straight A's on those report cards. Make Darry proud of who you became, 'cause I sure as hell am proud of you."

By now, Ponyboy was bawling, but nevertheless, he nodded, staring right at Sodapop's chocolate brown eyes, which showed their love for his brother.

Sodapop turned to look at Darry, who was keeping a straight face with difficulty. "Darry, no matter what happens, keep Ponyboy out of trouble and out of a boys' home. And whatever happens, never stop showing him how much you love him, 'cause you never know when he can leave. And always tell him that you're proud of him, 'cause that's what he needs." Darry nodded with a gulp and teary eyes. "And finally, don't worry about me. Don't overwork yourself over me. You're the best guardian I could've asked for, and you need to stay strong for Pony."

Darry let a few tears escape his eyes as he engulfed Sodapop in a giant bear-hug. "You better be goddamn careful over there," he shakily said. "You better come home to us." They heard the soft cries of their younger brother as he stood next to Darry and Sodapop, trying to contain his sobs. Darry brought Ponyboy closer to the duo and hugged him, with Sodapop also wrapping his arm around the young boy.

The brothers stayed like this for a few moments until the bus was ready to leave Tulsa. Sodapop pulled away from his brothers' embrace and shot them a grin before turning around and making his way to the large army bus. He sat down next to Steve and awaited the long journey to Vietnam, while Ponyboy and Darry stayed by the lines, crying in each other's arms. Two-Bit was standing next to them, having said his goodbyes before, just watching as the bus took his buddies away.

Black leather boots

Spit-shined so bright

They cut off my hair but it looked alright

"Dear Ponyboy and Darry,

The thing I was dreading had to happen eventually; I got my hair cut as soon as I stepped off that bus. At least it still makes me look kinda tough; it's Steve you should see. He's been cursing ever since he got his curls buzzed off his thick head.

I think our uniforms are tough. I think Steve likes it too; I haven't heard him complain yet.

We're not sharing bunks, or, as they say here, barracks. It's in alphabetical order, so we're too far away. At least we both know where we are all the time.

We marched and we sand

We all became friends

As we learned how to fight

Training is intense, but it's what we need, and I'm glad I'm being pushed so much like that. I'll have better survival chances back in Vietnam than if I just bum around. Steve though, he doesn't like training, says it's a 'bitch' and a 'pain in the ass'. Like he'd know how that feels.

I made a few buddies here; Williams and Cooper. Turns out Williams was a Soc back in my grade. Over here, you wouldn't even be able to tell he used to be a Soc. He's a pretty decent guy, and everybody's the same over here. As for Cooper, well, he's a Texas guy. Real funny accent; Two-Bit would get a kick out of hearing him.

And you, how are you guys holding up? Is Two-Bit still out of a job? How are Pony's grades? Is Darry taking breaks once in a while? Are y'all hanging out to the movies?

I gotta go now; it's lights out. I leave in a week in Vietnam, so I'll try to write before I do. I won't have many chances over there to send you letters, but trust me, I'll try.

Love, Soda."

A hero of war

Yeah that's what I'll be

And when I come home

They'll be damn proud of me

"Ambush!"

The cry ran through the thick trees, and not a second later, all hell broke loose. Bullets flew everywhere, hitting soldiers left and right.

Sodapop ducked and aimed, blindly shooting the enemy as he crouched lower in the bushes so not as to get shot. He peaked through the thick herbs just as he shot, watching with horror as his bullet hit a target, striking the gook dead. Sodapop lied still for a moment, the harsh cries and ripples of small metal balls all hazy to him, as he took in what he did.

He just killed a man. A Vietnamese soldier, the enemy; yes, but he killed someone. Never in a millions years did he think he would ever kill someone.

But this was war, and the circumstances were different. Here, he had no choice. He had to. It was the gooks, or him.

A harsh cry rang from close to him, and he saw none other than Steve Randle crumble in the grass, blood pouring from a wound on his chest. "Steve! NO!"

He crouched down next to his best friend, frantically looking for where the wound was. He saw it, right above Steve's heart; blood was oozing from the wound, and the bullet was lodged right in the middle of it. Without thinking, Sodapop took the tweezers that he shoved in one of his pockets, and warned Steve that this was going to hurt.

The scream was terrifying, and the pain, agonizing. The old mechanic thought it would never end.

Sodapop managed to get the bullet out of the hole, and hastily patched it up with the medical stuff he bought in case of emergency, such as him being shot. But there were no gunshots anymore; the coast was clear. Unwounded soldiers checked left and right for their dead companions or their injured ones.

"I'm gonna get you out, buddy," he whispered to Steve, gently picking him up. "I'm gonna get your ass outta here and back home in Tulsa." He turned at the other soldiers just as Steve passed out. "HEY! I need help over here!"

I'll carry this flag

To the grave if I must

Because it's a flag that I love

And I flag that I trust

"Sodapop, man," Steve weakly told his best friend, three days later, as he just woke up from his small coma. "You saved my life out there. I owe you a damn big one. You better goddamn visit me when you get your ass back home, Sodapop Curtis."

Sodapop gently patted Steve's right shoulder with a slight grin. "You better believe I will, bud. Take care, now."

And he marched his way back to their small barracks, awaiting another mission or ambush, this time without his best friend by his side.

I kicked in the door

I yelled my commands

Explosions and gunshots echoed everywhere in the small village as Sodapop stealthily made his way behind the houses, placing explosives as asked. He didn't like this mission; destroying a village for weaponry. No one was in the village at the time except the Vietnamese soldiers, some waiting for their wives or children to get back from their natural river source. The poor families would come back to an awful sight.

The children, they cried

But I got my man

We took him away

A bag over his face

From his family and his friends

"Wait!" he suddenly heard Williams cry out. "Don't kill him! He could be useful for something!"

"Are you crazy?" another soldier shouted at the old Soc. "Sarge will kill us if we do that!"

"I don't give a fuck," a third soldier shouted. "I'm with Williams on that one! Get him!"

Sodapop ushered everyone away as the explosions of his explosives rang in everyone's ears. He spotted Williams and another soldier dragging an unconscious Vietnamese soldier with them. He wasn't tied down, but they would tie him down back at their base camp.

Just as he woke up, one soldier took off his sweaty shirt and placed it on the gook's head, avoiding him from seeing where they were taking him and choking him at the same time. The soldier just laughed it off.

They took off his clothes

They pissed in his hands

I told them to stop

Sodapop watched as their sergeant chewed them out for bringing a prisoner. "We don't have these damn POW camps here! You guys just gave these gooks reasons to track down our camps! Are you fucking stupid or what?!"

"We can't just bring his goddamn ass back to that village!" Williams replied, earning him a harsh slap on his cheek. He didn't even budge, taking it like any other soldier would.

"You better do something about him, or else I will! And it won't be pretty!" No one messed with their sergeant.

"I say we question him," Sodapop lamely suggested. One soldier, called Max, glared at him.

"That's stupid; he doesn't even understand a fucking word we say. I say we beat him to death!"

"Yeah!" another soldier, who went by the name of Zig, agreed. "Let's show him what he deserves!"

But then I joined in

We beat him with guns

And batons not just once

But again and again

Sodapop pondered the idea in his head, but quickly shook everything aside and tossed everyone out of his way, stopping in front of their prisoner. He thought of every unfair thing that happened in his life in the past years, and with all the strength he could muster, he sent a powerful kick at the gook's side, smirking as he felt—and heard—the crack of several ribs.

The other soldiers stopped and stared for a moment, not believing that Sodapop Curtis of all people had been the one to throw the first punch, but then they all cheered and threw all their best shots at the soldier, until eventually, the gook bled to death.

A hero of war

Yeah that's what I'll be

And when I come home

They'll be damn proud of me

Their next mission was saving several American soldiers from a POW camp. The place was huge and oddly not severely guarded. Sodapop knew this was a trick, and didn't notice when Williams charged, leading their group onward. They broke through the cells, shooting at every gook in sight, before they eventually made their way to the cells, where several soldiers lay half-dead.

Some couldn't be saved, but others who could were treated by Sodapop, who had become one of the main medics in the group, and where then carried by other, bigger and stronger soldiers.

On their way outside, however, they were ambushed by a large group of Vietnamese soldiers, who wasted no time in shooting their enemy for destroying one of their best POW camps along with one of their biggest bases. Sodapop crouched down and blindly shot, hitting several gooks without a flinch. He was used to it by now; he told himself it didn't affect him any longer.

There were several shouts as several American soldiers went down, along with the rescued prisoners, as many gunshots echoed around the huge, flaming camp. The heat was overbearing as the soldiers tried their best to defend their fellow companions while attacking the enemy.

When the cost was clear, Sodapop's heart stopped upon seeing a horrible sight.

I'll carry this flag

To the grave if I must

Because it's a flag that I love

And a flag that I trust

Sodapop lay down in his barrack, thinking about his dead buddy, Williams.

"Shit! Williams!" he said, rushing over to the old Soc, but it was no use; the young man was dead, having played hero during the whole mission.

That's what you get, Sodapop thought, peace. Rest In Peace, buddy.

He did something that he hadn't done once yet since the first day of being in Vietnam.

He cried.

He cried for his family and for his friends, Ponyboy, Darry, Steve and Two-Bit, who were all back in Tulsa, and for his dead family and friends; his parents, Johnny, Dallas, and Williams. He grieved over each and every one of them, cried over missing everyone, feeling lonely for the first time since being in the war.

He cried himself to sleep.

She walked through bullets and haze

Two months later, while on a mission with Cooper and four other soldiers, Sodapop saw a foreign guard in front of a tiny supply camp.

It was a woman.

She was standing guard, just like any man would, but she was the one holding the rifle and narrowing her eyes at any suspicious sound around her. Sodapop couldn't believe that the Vietnamese population would stoop so low as to involve a woman in that way in their war. This was a man's fight.

The water behind the camp signified them that they were on a beach or most likely a small shore. The water was pumped inside the camp through a complicated system made of bamboo pipes, which sent the water inside the camp's walls, filtered the best it could be and then packed in their own packs by more women, guarded itself by a not-so-defenceless woman.

I begged her to stop

I begged her to stay

But she pressed on

So I lifted my gun

And I fired away

Suddenly, the female soldier locked eyes with the American soldiers, and let out a battle cry. They heard the rustling of leaves and pounding footsteps all around them, and Sodapop cursed. She had only been a distraction.

A dozen Vietnamese soldiers surrounded the small group, as Sodapop's heart raced in his chest. For a few moments, no one moved; the only thing they could hear were the gooks' heavy breathing and Sodapop could only focus on their glares.

Then, one of the American soldiers shot a gook, and all hell broke loose.

The shells jumped through the smoke

And into the sand

That the blood now had soaked

Dozens of shots were fired back and forth between the two groups. Sodapop didn't even have time to aim; he charged toward one, avoiding a bullet as it flew past his head, and he tackled a gook, head butting him. He hastily grabbed his gun and back handed the enemy with the butt of the gun, aiming without hesitation and shooting the soldier dead.

However, Sodapop, in his rage, forgot that there was another soldier close to him. He remember when he felt hot searing pain in his chest, near his right shoulder, leaving him stunned, wide eyed and mouth popped open. He couldn't even scream, couldn't even utter a word; all he could do was fall on top of the gook he had previously killed and wheeze as he tried to breathe, blood pooling on the dead gook and soaking his own uniform.

She collapsed with a flag in her hand

A flag white as snow

He weakly turned his head around, and he saw that the woman had been shot down. She was nothing more than a lifeless heap, nothing more than another soldier who wouldn't see home.

"Curtis!" he heard. "HEY! HELP!" Someone turned him around, and he moaned, blood spilling out of his mouth. He coughed up more blood, feeling even more pain in his chest than he already had before, before he was mobile on his back. "Curtis, just hang on!" was the last thing he heard before being surrounded by dark silence.

A hero of war

Is that what they see

Just medals and scars

So damn proud of me

"...waking up!"

Sodapop moaned as the sunlight hit his movie-star face, momentarily blinding him from his surroundings. Something was thrown over the offensive light, covering it and therefore avoiding it to blind Sodapop. The boy only managed to open his eyes to tiny slits, but his vision was clear enough so he could notice his surroundings.

"You're in the 'hospital'," Cooper stated, breathing in with a smile on his face. "Boy, am I glad to see you awake, buddy." Next to him stood their sergeant, also with somewhat of a smirk on his face.

"Cooper told me what happened. You just had to play hero, didn't you, Curtis? Isn't that what your brothers forbade you to do?" Sodapop softly smiled, only then noticing that he had a breathing mask over his mouth. "Don't try to speak, you'll just strain yourself."

Sodapop nodded, just as Cooper spoke. "Well, you're going home. Lucky bastard."

"I'm real proud of you, Curtis," Sarge stated with a broad grinned. "You served us well. But now's your time to rest. Go home safely and give us a damn call when you set foot in your home."

Sodapop was overwhelmed, knowing that only in a few days, he would be well enough to leave the dense forests of Vietnam, and leave the war behind him once and for all.

I brought home that flag

Now it gathers dust

But it's a flag that I love

It's the only flag I trust

"You are now in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. Please buckle up your seats and prepare for a safe landing. Thank you for boarding the Oklahoma-Air. Enjoy your stay."

Sodapop smiled to himself as the plane landed, finally halting to a stop in his beloved State. Oh, how he had missed it.

He had asked for Steve to pick him up so he could surprise his brothers back home. Thinking of his buddy, he bumped into someone, who immediately latched their arms around Sodapop. He brightly grinned, hugging Steve Randle back, as said ex-soldier sobbed, relieved to see his buddy alive and relatively well.

"What happened to ya?" Steve asked him once he dried his tears and released Sodapop from his embrace.

"I got a matching scar, bud," Sodapop grinned, lifting his shirt to show a scar on his chest. Instead of being on the left side above the heart, it was on the right side at about the same height. Steve only shook his head.

"No one can down us."

Sodapop smiled. "Damn right." He looked around and then back at Steve. "C'mon, let's go home.

He said, "Son, have you seen the world?

Well what would you say, if I said that you could?"

"SODA!"

Sodapop was crushed in his baby brother's bear hug, which had gotten stronger. Sodapop couldn't help the hiss, but when Ponyboy pulled away, he reassured him that he was alright, so Ponyboy hugged him back, more softly.

When they pulled away, Sodapop got a good look at him. His baby brother wasn't such a baby anymore. He had signs of someone who had finally started to shave, and he had grown several inches, finally having hit his growth spurt. Sodapop sadly smiled, wishing he could've been there to see it happen, but he was proud of his baby brother.

Next was Darry, who looked in better shape than he had ever been before. Darry smiled, teary eyed, as he hugged his younger brother with all his might, mindful of his chest wound. "I'm so glad you're goddamn here," the man huskily said, burying his face in Sodapop's medium-length hair.

"Holy shit! Curtis, that you?" a third, familiar voice spoke, and Sodapop turned with a grin to see Two-Bit Mathews. The man had gotten rid of his sideburns and had apparently stopped drinking, now having a job with Darry in Darry's new roofing business.

The two friends met in yet another embrace, staying this way for a few seconds, until they eventually pulled away. The five greasers wrapped their arms around each other, forming a circle.

Sodapop fondly looked at each and every one of his family members. They were all reunited, as they were meant to be.

"I'm home."

The End