I woke up to my shirt being tugged on; at first, I thought something was going on. I shot straight up in bed and looked over at Ponyboy. He was pulling on my shirt, his eyes gleaming with tears.
'What's wrong, baby?' I asked. I already knew the answer: He'd had a nightmare; he'd been having them every night for the past two weeks. Sometimes, he'd wake up screaming.
'I had a nightmare again,' he whispered, burying his face in my shirt and softly crying. I sighed. My poor brother. He's been through so much lately: Johnny and Dallas dying, our parents deaths, and being sick for a week. It'd obviously taken a tole on him.
I wrapped an arm around his neck.
'Shhh, Pony, don't cry,' I whispered softly. 'It'll be alright. You're okay.' I rubbed his back, and the crying ceased.
'Come on, let's lay back down.' I gestured to our pillows, and Pony lay down. I reached the blankets up, and wrapped them around my baby brother's shoulders. I got under as well, and threw an arm around him.
'You alright, Ponyboy?' I asked after a few minutes.
'I'm okay now, Soda. Sorry for wakin' you up so much,' he replied. Then yawned.
'Shoot, it's alright Pony. You know I don't mind.'
'Thank you, Soda. I love you.'
'I love you too, Ponyboy.'