A/N: Hey y'all. I have help from somone who has written a lot more then me. THE LEAFT 180. Second, this will be realy boring for the first few chapters, but I think they are needed. Read if you want, I don't care if you don't. LOTS AND LOTS OF BROMANCE (the comfort kind). There are curses. Rated for later chapters.

I DON'T OWN THE OUTSIDERS!

(Darry POV)

It was a calm, somewhat peaceful day at our house, which should have shown that something was wrong. Our house is not, what you would call "peaceful", and, if the house was calm, then something was seriously wrong. The only time the house ever seemed calm was when everyone was asleep, but no one was around to witniss it.

Our house was always filled with bangs and crashes and shouts and yelling and laughing. Today, however, it was quiet.

We (being me, Soda, Steve, Two-Bit, and Dally), were playing poker. Mom had taken the car to the store. Dad had wanted to go with her, but he was helping Pony and Johnny with their math homework.

I would have helped them but the last time I did their teacher said that it was "Not how she had taught them," so Dad was helping him this time.

I was in an all around good mood because I was going off to college in a week. I had always wanted to go to college and I always knew that if I wanted to go then I would need to get a scholarship. My family doesn't have much money, so I tried my best. I have gotten a full scholarship thanks to my high grades (mostly A's with only one B) and how well I play football.

Dad was getting concerned. You couldnt tell by just looking at him, but if you studied him enough, you would notice the scowl and how it twitched every few minutes. You would see his furrowed brows and his downtunrn lips. It seems I'm the only one that pays attention. Mom had left 3 hours ago and should have been home by now.

Pony and Johnny were sitting on the coush, having one of those "silent conversations". Soda and Steve where in the middle of a wrestling match because Steve was cheating in our poker game from before. Dally was standing by, leaning on the wall and watching Steve and Soda grapple. Two-Bit was rummaging around the refrigerator.

The only sound was the muffled grunts from Soda under Steve and the constant murmur of Ponyboy to Johnny, with the occasional clinking in the refrigerator from Two-Bit as he shuffled around. Every once and a while Dally would tap his foot too. Dad was pacing the floor, marching around the table and skirted the living roomin a lopsided figure eight. That was another thing Dad did when he was nervous, he just couldnt sit still.

I was curled up on the couch with Lord of the Flies, but it was hard to concentrate with all the noise. Everything was two loud, the creaking of the old couch as Ponyboy sank deeper into it to the thump that sounded when Steve finally managed to pin Soda, to the shout from Two-Bit in the kitchen wondering if we had any cake left. The way Dad kept bumping into the chair when he rounded the corner and entered the living room, and the sound of his heavy feet on the old floor.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Everyone froze. It was as if someone had pressed paused on their lives. But I had to admit, I was at least curious. I put my book down. No one knocks on our door. It's always unlocked, wether its because we want the gang to have acess to our house at any time or that we were all to lazy to bother locking it, I don't know. I guess its sort of tradition. Dad changed his course and hurried over to the door. Upon seeing the people in our doorway, whom i could not see form my veiw point in the chair, he wordlessly stepped out into the night, softly closing the door behind him.A yawning silence stretched out between us, no one quite sure what to say. I turned to Dally, who was closest to me. he has crossed his arm and was currently glaring at the floor, as if trying to burn a hole through it with his eyes."Who was it?" I asked, breaking the silence.

He looked up from the floor. "The Fuzz" He muttered, trying to remain indifferent.

I cocked my head, like I sometimes did when i was confused. I thought the same thing everyone else was thinking. What are they doing here? Soon enough, my father came back inside, looking a little worse for the wear. to say that was an understatment though. His eyes were stretched wide, we could see the white in them, his face was a chalky pale in colour, and he seemed to be drained of all life. I could hear his breath coming in short rasps, and he seemed unaware of where he was going, letting his feet guide him. He staggered into his bedroom and closed the door was devoid of all sound exept for the whimpers and moans I could hear from his room. Somewhere in my subconcious, I understood what happened, but I couldnt place a label to what it silence is absorbed only by the sound of my father's tears and the scream of sirens into thedesolate night. It is a sound that I will carry with me forever, it is a sound that I dared not forget.

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