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Discovery

According to the alarm clock, it was seven am when the knocking at our door jolted me awake. I was barely awake...groaning and rolling over, I went to throw my arm around Ponyboy, but was met only with the cold blankets. For a moment, I felt a pit in my stomach...it happened every morning. Every morning I woke, throwing my arm over the empty space where my brother was supposed to be, or reaching up to shake him awake, or mumbling his name, hoping to wake him up. Every morning, for a few seconds, I wondered where my brother was. Then, when I remembered, I wondered if he was okay. If he missed me. I knew he did. I missed him. Every single day I wanted my little brother back.

It had been eight months now…eight months of talking to social workers and judges and trying to get court hearings that led to more talk with social workers that wouldn't do anything for us and home visits and more and more nights without my kid brother sleeping beside me. I missed him. It was like my heart was missing...it wasn't right. It hadn't been the kid's fault that those socs had tried to kill him. It wasn't Johnny's fault that the only way to save Pony was to stab one of them. Thankfully Bob hadn't died, and since they had all been fighting and since the socs were drunk, no one was charged with anything...somehow. Even though they'd almost killed my little brother.

It had started with the fight. Pony out too late, and Darry worrying himself to death. He did that a lot...worried and yelled and snapped at our brother, mostly because Pony always had his head in the clouds or his nose in some book. It was just how he was. Darry didn't know how to deal with it, and Pony thought that meant he hated him. I tried to assure him that Darry loved him...that he was just worried and stressed...I don't think it did much good. So when Ponyboy came home late, Darry started yelling and Pony yelled right back. Darry had a point...he really should have called. But I could have gotten that across without yelling, and I knew Darry could have too. I'd seen Ponyboy getting upset, and I'd jumped in, trying to tell Darry that we could all talk about it in the morning when he'd yelled at me.

That had set Pony off faster than anything, and he'd shouted at Darry, telling him not to yell at me, which is when Darry had wheeled around and slapped him, the noise of his hand on our brother's face seeming to echo throughout the otherwise silent house. Of course Darry had been sorry...he'd never hurt Pony on purpose, but Pony had been out the door, scrambling to get away before Darry could do more than call him back, yelling that he was sorry. Not that it mattered. He'd turned to me then, looking hopeless and scared, but I'd just been mad. "I didn't mean to." He'd told me softly, hands limp at his side, but I hadn't much cared how he felt about it.

"He already thinks you hate him!" I'd exploded, not caring when he flinched, his eyes struggling to meet mine. "Thinks you want to send him off to a boy's home...what the hell's wrong with you?"

"I didn't mean…"

"Save it." I'd snapped, slipping past him and slamming the door to the room I shared with Pony. I didn't know if I should go after him or wait. Surely if he came back, he wouldn't want to talk to Darry. Or maybe he was scared of Darry...scared he'd hit him again. Maybe he wouldn't come back. So I'd decided to wait for an hour or two, then go out and find him. I figured if he didn't want to see Darry, we'd crash at Two-Bit's or even Dally's if we had to.

About an hour later, the front door had been thrown open, the door slamming itnto the wall, and I'd jumped out from where I'd been half dozing in our bed, hurrying out to the living room to find Pony and Johnny panting, their eyes wide and panicked. My little brother had been soaked, his whole body shaking as he stood there, looking at me but not seeming to see me. Swearing as if pulled from a trance, Darry had jumped up, reaching out to grab Pony's shoulders, and our brother had jerked back, giving him a suspicious look. Paling a little, Darry had dropped his hands. "You're soaking wet." Hesitantly, he'd put a hand on our kid brother's head, apparently trying again.

This time, Pony hadn't flinched away, just staring up at Darry like he didn't understand. He had a nasty bruise on his face, and his lip was bleeding, but he didn't seem to notice. "Soda, get a towel!" Darry had ordered, leading Pony over to the sofa. Unresisting, he had followed. "What happened?" Darry had demanded, no time to talk about the fight that had driven Ponyboy out to begin with. "Kiddo, talk to me! Are you okay?" He'd asked, pushing Pony's hair back. Still our brother hadn't answered, shaking and dripping on the carpet, his lips almost blue.

"They were drowning him…in the fountain at the park!" Johnny had cried, breathless, as I'd returned with a towel, wrapping it around my brother's shoulders and pulling him away from Darry and into my arms. I had still been still upset with Darry then…it was petty but I wanted to be the one to comfort him. Pony hadn't said anything though, looking up at me with wide, frightened eyes while I'd wrapped the towel around him and drying his hair.

"Who?" Darry had demanded. It had reminded me of the first time some kids at school had tried messing with Ponyboy. Our brother had only been eight or nine…Darry fifteen when Ponyboy had come home crying with a black eye. Darry had jumped up from the table where he'd been doing his homework, letting Pony put his arm around him. "Who was it, Pony?" He'd demanded, arms tight around our brother. Through his tears, Ponyboy had managed to name the guys, and boy, had Darry taken care of it.

"Those socs…from earlier…" Johnny had tried to explain. He'd been crying too, it seemed, but all I could focus on was my little brother. Later, Darry and I had gotten the full story about the socs out of Two-Bit, but at the moment, neither of us had cared much what Johnny was saying.

"Glory, Pony. Twice in one day, huh?" I'd asked, forcing a light smile and tilting his head, wincing at the nasty looking bruise on his cheek and the split in the middle of his swollen lower lip. Our brother still hadn't said anything, and I'd pulled him into a hug, thinking he was just scared. This hadn't been like earlier…before had been bad enough, sure. This was different. This wasn't playing around, roughing up some greaser. This was them trying to drown my little brother. I knew the gang would have to get together…we would rumble over something like this. At the moment, however, I'd just wanted to comfort my little brother. "It's alright, kiddo. You'd better go take a shower and warm up, okay?" Pony and Johnny had shared a long desperate look over my shoulder, and Darry had caught on first, stepping in.

"What? What happened?" He'd asked, putting a hand on Johnny's shoulder. Pony had just stared at him, pale and wide eyed, and he'd turned to Johnny, seeming to give up on getting anything from Ponyboy.

"There were five of 'em. I couldn't fight them all." Johnny had explained, his voice high and cracking. "I…I stabbed him. I stabbed Bob. I had to! They were killing him! Then I grabbed Pony and we ran…I don't know if he…" And Johnny had trailed off, Darry's arm around firmly around his shoulder. I hadn't been able to get a word out of my kid brother the rest of the night, but I had finally gotten him into a shower and into bed where he'd curled up on his side, arms around himself. I'd thrown an arm around him, hoping he would say something about what had happened. He hadn't said a word, but he had scooted closer to me, gripping my hand and breathing deeply until he finally fell asleep.

The next day the cops had come by to talk to Johnny and Pony, and informed them that Bob Sheldon was not dead...that the wound hadn't been critical. Both had almost cried in relief. Still, I couldn't get a word out of Pony about what had happened. The guys had all come over the next day to get the whole story, but neither Pony nor Johnny wanted to give us any details, clamming up when I tried to ask about it. Darry hadn't bothered...he barely spoke to Pony after what he'd done. Then the social workers had come.

Everyone had been at the house that Sunday morning, sitting around the living room and watching Mickey Mouse, as Two-Bit had taken charge of the TV and no one had felt like fighting about it. Pony had been running a fever, which made Darry nervous. None of us had talked about the fact that Dar had hit him..Pony hadn't wanted to talk about it, and Darry wouldn't bring it up. That night, I'd asked Ponyboy if he wanted to talk about it...about Darry. He'd just shaken his head, his back still to me.

That morning, Pony had been on the couch next to Johnny, my little brother had been wrapped in a blanket, coughing every once in awhile, but nothing too bad. Those two would just look at each other sometimes and seem to talk...they had the weirdest relationship. I barely ever saw them actually open their mouths, but they had a friendship as close as mine and Steve's. Darry walked by our little brother and me, reaching over and putting his hand on Pony's forehead, and Pony gave him a half smile, knocking his hand away. "I'm fine, Darry." He'd told him simply, and Darry had ruffled his hair, nodding but shooting me a look. I'd assumed his fever had gone up. Still, it was the closest thing they'd had to a conversation since their fight.

Then the knock had come, and everyone had looked at the door, Pony a second behind the rest of us. I'd thought about telling Darry we ought to send him back to bed, even though he'd spent all of the previous day in bed with Darry hovering worriedly, despite the kid's protests that he was okay. His fever hadn't gotten high...I knew Darry just felt guilty.

I still don't know exactly what the social worker said to Darry, but I'd watched my brother pale, and Steve had kicked Two-Bit, making him turn off the TV. Almost subconsciously I had moved closer to my brother who was sandwiched between me and Johnny. He'd been looking at me, worried, and I'd put an arm around him.

"Probably nothing." I'd mumbled, squeezing him in a hug. I'd been about to tell Two-Bit to turn the TV back on when Darry's voice had gotten louder.

"You can't do this. Please...please don't do this." Our brother had stepped back, shaking his head. "Please...he doesn't feel good today. Let us talk to our usual social worker." His desperate voice had even gotten Dally's attention, and he'd leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes hard. Darry didn't beg anyone...for anything. Except that night...he'd begged Ponyboy to come back.

"Mr. Curtis, it had been decided that this is no longer the best placement for your youngest brother." I was just a few months short of eighteen…okay, almost fifteen months, but still...why didn't they take me too, I'd thought desperately, squeezing Pony tight. He had been watching Darry with deer-in-the-headlight eyes, head swiveling back and forth between him and me. I needed to be with my brother. Pony needed me! "You are welcome to contest this decision in court after the six months." Darry had turned red with fury, hands clenched.

"Six months? What do you mean, six months!?" He'd cried, fists tight at his sides, face turning red. I, on the other hand, felt like the blood had all rushed out of me. I'd sagged, gripping Ponyboy as though I was about to fight someone for him.

"The court has decided…"

"We haven't been to court!"

"…that it would be best for all parties involved if there was a separation for a few months…once that trial period is over, you will be welcome to contest this decision in court." I had thought I was going to pass out…I'd been sure of it.

"You're damn right I'm gonna contest this! You can't do this! He's my brother!" He had been shaking so hard, I had been sure he was gonna pass out...or knock someone out. The others hadn't been faring much better, watching with horror and fury as the men had walked up to my brother and me. I'd been ready to fight, and Pony had shaken his head.

"No." He'd told them sharply, cowering back against the sofa. They'd started to reach for him, but he'd recoiled and Darry had taken a step forward, eyes blazing. He didn't speak, but both social workers had drawn back. I had been ready to kill someone. Every member of our gang had shifted just a bit, eyes dark as they'd watched this play out, taking their cues from me and Dar.

The social worker was gentler with my brother, but not by much. "Your brother no longer has custody over you. We believe it will be in your best interest to be placed in another home, at least temporarily. We need you go pack, and then come with us." Pony had kept shaking his head, still holding onto me.

"I ain't going with you." He'd snarled, showing teeth and ready to fight, but I had known how that would turn out. He would lose. We would all lose. Because Pony didn't have a choice, and even if we killed those socials workers, more would come...like roaches. I was crying...I'd realized it when I'd met Steve's eyes and he'd looked at me with a clenched jaw and a crumpled brow. He didn't want us to lose Pony anymore than the other guys, even if he did pick on my brother. He wouldn't let anybody hurt Pony, and he looked out for him at school and around town…he watched after him.

"Please...please let us talk to our social worker." I'd choked out, gripping my little brother tight. I still don't know why we'd suddenly gotten a new social worker. Ponyboy had been so scared...more scared than I'd seen him, the fury and hatred in his eyes barely covering it. He was like one of those dogs caught in a trap...he'd looked like he had been about to chew his own leg off to get out of there.

"We can work this out with her." Darry had put in, back to hoping. "Please. Just give us a chance…a couple of days..."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Curtis, but Ponyboy has to come with us. Today. Like we said, you are welcome to speak to your social worker later today and get this worked out. Son, we'd like to do this the easy way." The taller guy had been the only one to open his mouth, but the other guy had had a pretty good build, so I'd assumed he was 'the hard way.'

Pony had looked at all of us then, trapped and wild-eyed...until he'd met Dally's eyes. Dal had a way of telling you something with just his eyes, and I don't know what he said to Pony, but my brother had slumped a bit after making eye contact with him, pulling himself to his feet and going into our room. Dropping my head into my hands, I'd just sobbed, almost unable to breathe with how hard I was bawling. Steve had moved over to my side, his hand on my shoulder, and Two-Bit had stood, standing over me and glaring at the social workers.

By the door, Dary hadn't moved an inch, his fists so tight I thought they might break. Johnny had wrapped his arms tight around himself glaring at the carpet and trying to sink as far into the sofa as he could get. He didn't like cops or social workers, and I knew he felt bad about this. Heck, none of us blamed him...we still don't. Only Dally, outwardly, had appeared unaffected, as though this was simply an annoying interruption in his day. I'd known better. It was the reason Dar and I had never had a problem with Pony hanging out with Dally...Dal cared about my little brother, as much as Dal could care about anyone. Pony and Johnny were as much his little brothers as they were his buddies, and he looked out for them.

When Pony had come out of his room that morning, a duffle bag barely half full of stuff on his shoulder, I'd been unable to stop bawling even as I'd jumped up, grabbing him and holding him too tight. "I love you, kiddo. You hear me. This ain't for long. We're gonna get you back." He'd nodded, holding me just as tight and sniffling a bit. I had hoped the social workers had seen what they were doing...that they were taking away a kid we loved. I'd stroked his hair, rocking us back and forth in the middle of our living room, our friends looking on with either concern or fury.

"Love you too, Soda." He'd whispered, and I'd pulled back just enough to look at him.

"I'll see you soon, you dig? I promise." He'd nodded, jerking away when one of the social workers had made to grab his arm. I'd glared at them as best I could through my tears, then had dropped back onto the sofa next to Steve who'd put his hand on my back, not knowing that it would be impossible to keep that promise.

"This ain't right." Steve had told me, his voice cold and loud enough for the social workers to hear. "You hear me? It ain't right! They love that kid!" He'd glared daggers at two men who had ignored him.

Glancing up, I'd watched Pony walk toward Darry who'd looked at him with such pain and guilt...Darry would blame himself for this forever. I had been sure of that. They hadn't said anything...Darry had just put a hand on Pony's shoulder, then letting it drop as the social workers had urged my little brother forward. Then he'd seemed to snap out of it, reaching out and grabbing Pony, pulling our brother into his arms. Pony had returned the hug, clinging to Darry and crying into his shoulder for a long time. "I ain't gonna let this happen, Pony. We're gonna get you back, you hear me, kiddo?" Our oldest brother had all but sobbed, rocking Pony just like I had.

Pony had nodded, but when we'd all turned to watch him walk out to the car from the window, I'd seen his eyes. They had been flat and miserable as he'd jerked away from the social worker once more, dropping into the back of the car and disappearing. It had been the last time I'd seen my little brother.

The knocking continued, and I groaned again, putting my feet on the ground, trying to put Ponyboy in the back of my mind. He was always there, the way he'd smile up at me, laughing about something, or how he acted when I pulled him away from a book, taking a minute to get back to the real world with the rest of us. How he wanted to come with us to the races...how I'd let Steve tell him no so many times. That smarted, and I tried to push that one back. I swore, when I got my brother back, we'd go to the races, just me and him. I missed him so much.

Darry stood at the door, rubbing his eyes and staring at the cop on our doorstep. Coming up behind him, I crossed my arms, glancing between them. "Can we help you?" He asked, glancing at me with lifted eyebrows. I shook my head, serious. I hadn't done anything to get in trouble...not since they'd taken Pony. I wasn't taking any chances on not getting him back.

"Darrel and Sodapop Curtis?" The cop asked. He was a short guy, a bit pudgy with ruddy red cheeks, and he resembled the quaker oatmeal man with shorter hair, but he also had a gun on his hip, so I wasn't gonna make any comments. I didn't feel like cracking up much these days anyway.

"Yes." Darry answered.

"My name is Officer Charlton. I need to ask you some questions about your younger brother."

"Ponyboy!" I butted in, stepping closer. "Is he okay?" I knew it was harder for Darry...he hadn't even gotten to talk to Pony since they'd taken him...some rule they had at that place, even after moving him in with a foster family. We hadn't been given any kind of real updates on him, but he'd sounded rough when he'd called me. I knew he wasn't taking this well. I was anxious for the court date that my brother had finally gotten to come. At least then we'd be able to see him.

The cop shifted, uncomfortable. "We...we are not sure at the moment. I'd like to speak to you inside, if that would be alright." Darry nodded instantly, stepping aside and ushering him in. Once coffee was declined and we all sat down in the living room, with Darry and me on the couch and the cop in a chair across from us, Darry spoke up again.

"What do you mean, you're not sure if my little brother's okay?" He asked softly.

"Ponyboy Curtis was moved to a foster home roughly four months ago. His foster family came forward yesterday claiming that he had not come home after school. However, the school record shows that he was not in classes at all yesterday, and the last time anyone saw him was Monday morning...yesterday morning, when his foster brothers claim to have seen him leave the house."

Foster brothers. Ponyboy had 'foster brothers' now. They weren't his brothers though. Were they nice to him? Older or younger? Did they mess with him? Try to hurt him? I'd heard stories about these places...I had so many questions, but Officer Charlton wouldn't be able to answer any of them.

"You don't know where my brother is? His foster family...lost him?" Darry was being real quiet, and I knew it was only a matter of minutes before he blew up. Heck, I wanted to blow up too.

"We believe he may have run away, which is why we are asking you to keep an eye out for him."

"So what? You can send him back to the people he ran away from?"

"It's not uncommon for foster children to run away to return to their families. However, they have custody over him at the moment." The cop told my brother and me patiently. "We always check with the family first."

"I haven't seen my brother in almost a year. They changed our social worker without informing us. They took him away without any warning. It was six months before I was even able to talk to someone with any authority, and even then they gave me the runaround for almost two months." Darry leaned forward, hands clenched into fists before he took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I want to speak to his foster parents." He demanded, leaning in with clenched fists. The cop shook his head.

"I'll see what I can do, but it may not be possible."

"I haven't seen my little brother in eight months. I finally get a court date, and he goes missing!" He reiterated, barely controlling his voice.

"I am sorry, Mr. Curtis." The cop genuinely looked it as he regarded us. "We believe that Ponyboy left sometime around six a.m. on Monday morning. His two foster brothers confirmed this. They asked if he wanted a ride, but he said he had to get to school early. Both of his foster parents were at work at the time."

"There's only three?" I couldn't help asking, my voice soft, my hands tight in my lap. I wasn't even a little tired anymore. "Three kids there in the foster home?"

"No." Officer Charlton told me, somewhat warily. "There are also two girls." He took a deep breath. "We spoke to the oldest girl as well, but she hasn't seen him. It appears his thirteen year old foster sister was not in school yesterday either." He hesitated, watching us closely for a minute. "She is also missing at the moment."

"So two kids ran away from the people you sent my brother to live with. At the same time?"

"Mr. Curtis, I had nothing to do with taking your little brother away, nor did I have anything to do with his foster home placement. I can assure you, all I want is for these children to be found." I didn't say anything, and for a long moment, Darry was quiet too. Then he nodded.

"Of course. I'm sorry." He mumbled, putting a hand on my shoulder and sitting back. "Like I said, we haven't seen him. We've been working for months to get a court date so we can get custody again…heck, just to visit him." I still couldn't believe it had been so long since I'd seen my brother, but I kept my mouth shut, afraid I'd start yelling at the cop. It really wasn't his fault, but I thought of my brother, completely alone out there somewhere, and wanted to hit something. Considering how close Officer Charlton was, it would probably be him. That was trouble we didn't need.

"Keep an eye out. Talk to your friends...see if anyone has seen him. He's probably just hiding out…" The cop hesitated. "If you do find him, it's important to notify us right away. It will only hurt your case if you don't comply."

"Of course." Darry told him coldly. "We haven't seen him in almost nine months and we'll just call right up as soon as we see him."

"Eight months?" He asked suddenly. Darry nodded. The officer narrowed his eyes. "Who is your social worker?" He asked, and Darry seemed a bit taken aback. Instead of angry, though, the cop looked kind of confused.

"Um...her name's Patty Jones. Works for the states...our old social worker, Theresa Marshal, hasn't returned any of my calls...they assigned Mrs. Jones to our case right before they took Ponyboy. Never told us why." He nodded slowly, staring down at our carpet. "Why?" Darry asked warily.

The cop shook his head, giving us a half smile. "No reason. I'll let you boys get back to your morning. When is your court date?"

"Next month." Darry told him, eyes downcast. It was so far away…but at least I'd been looking forward to seeing him…getting some kind of visitation at least. Maybe even taking him home. Now…now he was missing.

"I suppose the courts are busy with custody cases...eight months...you still don't have any kind of visitation rights?" He confirmed. Darry shook his head, but I answered.

"He isn't even allowed to call us." I told him shortly.

For a moment, he was quiet, staring at our carpet once more. At least it was clean. "You've got a court date in a month." He told us softly. "He should have been notified of that. It's possible he just took off for a couple of days...maybe he's hanging out around here somewhere. We're going to keep looking though. Keep an eye out." He told us softly, then wished us a good day before heading out.

"Darry…" I spoke as soon as the front door shut, and Darry put a hand on my shoulder.

"He's fine, Sodapop." He wasn't looking at me though…just staring straight ahead.

"What if he ain't? Why would he run off? What would make him just run away?" My mouth was dry as I asked this, my hands trembling. "He sounded bad on the phone…at the foster home. What if those people…"

"Soda, it ain't gonna do us any good to worry about that right now. Right now, we need to call everybody and tell them to keep an eye out...maybe get Tim on it too. You know he's got a wider range." I knew he was worrying though….he always worried. It was what had started all this...he always worried.

Nodding, I watched him grab the phone and dial Tim's number. Figuring I'd talk to the gang, or at least some of them, in person, I headed to mine and Pony's bedroom to get dressed. I wanted to get started as early as possible.

Thanks for reading! :)