The attack was over in what seemed like seconds.
Bleeding and broken, he was left lying on the floor. Heavy footsteps padded away, and the slamming of a door followed.
As he laid there, blood poured from a crooked, broken nose. He coughed, and spat out a mixture of blood and spit.
As his consciousness waned, he only had a single thought:
How did it come to this?
"Soda! Knock it off!" a twelve year old Ponyboy shouted as he chased his brother through the house. Sodapop only grinned and ducked around a corner, a pack of cigarettes held high in his hand. Pony only gritted his teeth and did the same, slamming into the couch on accident.
"Come and get 'em, Pony!" Soda taunted, standing by the front door. The pack of Kools dangled limply in his hand. A Cheshire cat grin twisted his face as he watched his younger brother's irritation. A knock at the door made him turn around. Pony took advantage of his brother's distraction, and swiped his precious smokes away from his brother.
'Nobody ever knocks,' Pony thought absently to himself, fingering the lighter tucked safely beside his six remaining Kools. Soda swept the door open to reveal two uniformed police officers.
"Can I help you?" Soda asked, still grinning. Pony's gut sank. The expression on the faces of the officers was grim. He knew something had to be wrong – something terrible.
"Is Darrel Curtis Jr. home?" One of the men asked in a gruff voice. He was a mountain of a man, standing easily at six foot three. If anything, Soda's grin grew.
"Darry! Someone's at the door for you!" Soda sing-songed. He thought his brother did something blackmail-worthy.
Pony knew better.
Darry's footsteps echoed through the house as he stomped into the living room. He did a double-take at the officers standing in the doorway.
"I'm Darry Curtis. What can I do for you?" Darry's face was stony. The other officer's face quirked down into a sympathetic frown as he took note of the youngest of the Curtis boys.
"Son, I'm sorry to tell you this. Your parents were killed in a car accident. We need someone to identify the bodies." The first cop stated matter-of-factly. Darry's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Soda, on the other hand, unraveled. His eyes popped open, jaw dropped and he lost any kind of humor he may have once had.
Pony didn't even register his knees buckling until he hit the living room carpet. The room spun as his world collapsed around him. Vaguely, he heard Soda crying and Darry quietly agreeing to go with the officers. Keys jingled in the background as Darry picked up the truck keys. Their mom and dad had taken the car, so the truck was still parked against the curb.
Darry would make this all better. Darry was Superman. He'd prove those stupid officers wrong. It couldn't be their mom and dad. He felt bad for whomever died, but it wasn't their parents. It couldn't be.
"Can't be them Soda! Can't be!" he cried on Soda's shoulder. He didn't know when his older brother joined him on the floor, but he was grateful. He curled closer to him, sobbing.
Two hours later, Darry found them in much the same position. Pony's legs were across Soda's lap, his head on his shoulder. He was nearly asleep, until the front gate squeaked open.
Darry's grim face told him everything he needed to know.
Fresh tears ran rivulets down his face. Soda's arms tightened around him, as Darry knelt down next to them.
"Pone. Baby. I promise, I'll do whatever is best for you. I promise, baby brother." He whispered in the youngest Curtis boy's ear. The tears continued on furiously, despite his brother's reassurances. Twin tears slipped down Soda's face.
"C'mon Colt. Let's get to bed. It's gettin' late." Soda's voice cracked halfway through. He picked his younger brother up bridal-style, and started to take him to his own room. However, Pony's arms wrapped tighter around his neck the closer he got.
"Can I stay in your room tonight, Soda?" he whispered hoarsely. Soda choked on a smile, and changed direction, back to their old room. He laid his brother down on his bed and laid down beside him. The younger of the two cuddled closer to him, crying silently into his shirt. Frankly, Soda didn't give a damn.
In the living room stood the oldest of the Curtis brothers. He raked a hand through dark brown hair, the other hand on his hip. Now that he was alone, he allowed a few tears to fall, a single thought running through his head on a constant loop.
'What the hell am I gonna do?'
"Mr. Curtis, please have a seat." The plump woman motioned to an empty gray seat in front of an old oak desk. He pulled out the chair and sat down. The woman smoothed her drab gray pantsuit and took a seat across from him. The name placard in front of him read, "Mrs. Snow."
"Now, Mr. Curtis, I am sorry for your loss. As the social worker assigned by the state of Oklahoma for your younger brothers. Considering you are above 18, you are not subjected to the laws. Your brothers, aged 12 and 15, are. You have three options. You can take them into your custody, give them up to the custody of the state, or you can take custody of one of them. It is entirely up to you. However, we need your decision by next Friday. Please, take the time to weigh the options." Mrs. Snow gave him a kindly smile, hands folded in front of her. A stack of manila folders sat to her left.
'They're probably in the care of the state, too.' Darry thought bitterly to himself. Shaking the thoughts away, he posed his question.
"What will happen if they're left in the custody of the state?" He muttered.
"They will be sent to a boys' home, where they will be put up for adoption. The hope is that eventually, a nice family will take them in. If not, they will age out of the system at age 18. Or, in young Ponyboy's case, 17. I see he skipped a grade, and will graduate at that age." She stumbled over the youngest boy's name. Darry's mouth twitched into a small smile.
"Thank you, Mrs. Snow. I'll be in touch." He shook her hand and left her office.
The drizzle was cold as the two brown coffins were lowered into the ground. Pony's black dress shirt was plastered to him as the rain continued to fall. It mixed with his tears as it hit the ground. Soda stood next to him, not faring much better. Steve had a comforting hand on his best friend's shoulder. Johnny was doing the same to Pony. Dallas and Darry stood stonily as they watched. Two-Bit's usual humor had flown out the window the moment the funeral began.
"Pony, honey, remember when I promised I'd do whatever was best for you?" Darry asked, pacing in front of the couch. Pony and Soda sat curled together. Physical comfort had become the best solution for them. Pony nodded.
"Soda, this goes for you too. I've made my decision. I love you both, more than anything. But it's for the best that I send you to the boys' home."
A/N: Hey guys, thanks for reading! I love The Outsiders, and I've always liked stories where Darry gives the boys up to the state. You're all awesome for reading!