"Hey, calm down, you two, it's no big deal."

"So then what's the cop doing here?" Pony wasn't buying it, and neither was I. So far, in our lives, anyway, the presence of a cop had never been anything but a bad sign.

"Seriously, guys, relax. He was just here to get information about the accident, about how it happened."

"Are you in trouble? It wasn't your fault, Soda. I saw the light, it was green." I wondered if the cop would need to talk to me, too.

"Yeah, I did too, obviously, or I wouldn't have gone. He's just getting the facts, for his report or something."

"Why does he want to talk to Darry, then? He wasn't even there." Pony was, clearly, just as suspicious as I was.

"I don't know. Maybe they need a statement from him since he's our guardian, or something." Soda looked at Pony and me and read the skepticism written all over our faces. "Really, guys. It's fine. Scout, c'mere." He motioned me over, and both Pony and I went over and sat on the bed.

"Look familiar?" he asked, showing me his cast. It looked exactly the same as the one I'd had after breaking my wrist in the woods after leaving the church.

"Oh, just you wait 'til the itching starts," I remembered how all three brothers had told me I was being completely melodramatic when I had been beside myself with aggravation over the unscratchable itches that occurred underneath the cast. "Let's see who's the drama queen now," I teased.

"I can't wait," he smiled. "But I hear it's pretty easy to take out Two-Bit with one of these things," he added, remembering how I had cut Two-Bit with my cast during my pre-court tantrum.

"Soda… come on, you know I didn't mean that." I was surprised he remembered; I still felt kinda bad about it. Every once in a while Two-Bit would still tease me about it. "Plus, he's gonna have one of his own, on his leg, you know… He'll kick you back, and break your leg, too."

"Good point." Soda grinned.

"Did you get to see him today?"

"Yeah, they let me visit him after he had his surgery. They had to put some metal in his leg, to make it heal right, but he'll be okay. He has to stay another day or two, until they put his cast on. He's driving the other guy in his room crazy, just like you'd expect." I had to smile, thinking about being trapped in a room with a bedridden Two-Bit on medication. That would probably be enough to send even the most patient person over the edge.

There was another patient to wonder about, but I was hesitant to ask.

"So… what about Sandy?" I asked, warily. "Did you get to see her?

"Yeah, I did," Soda smiled. "She talked to her folks, told them that I never hurt her… that I wouldn't. They're still not exactly in love with me, but they weren't mean, at least, and they let me see her… alone, even. She got to go home already."

"Is she… how is she doing? Is she okay?"

"She's…" I could tell he was thinking about his words carefully "…not great. She's upset. Confused, I think. But she still wants to be with me." Soda seemed content with that last fact, and I knew he would do whatever he could to help her get through whatever it was she was going to have to get through. If nothing else, the events of the past months had taught me that what may seem emotionally insurmountable at first actually does get a tiny bit easier every day. It still hurt every time I thought of Mom and Dad, or Johnny or Dallas, but the pain was far less raw than it had been when we had first lost them. And about Steve attacking me, well, I could see progress there, too, in how I was dealing with it. Maybe not by leaps and bounds – more like baby steps, actually, but I was doing better.

Just as I was thinking about all that, the door opened again, and Darry came back in. We all stared at him, and Pony couldn't hold back.

"What was that all about? Is Soda in trouble?"

It was obvious that Darry was trying to maintain a neutral expression, and I didn't like that one bit.

"No, no… nothing like that." He didn't elaborate, and we all three just continued to stare. Finally, his expression softened a little, and I felt reassured that maybe it wasn't anything truly bad, though it was clear that there had been more to the conversation than just the fact that Darry was our guardian.

"Then what'd the cop want with you?" Even Soda, who just minutes ago had been so sure there was no problem, seemed a little suspicious.

"Guys, relax. It's no big deal. We can talk about it at home. Unless you'd rather stick around here a little while longer, huh Soda?"

"At home it is then," Soda agreed immediately, sliding his feet over the side of the bed.

"I signed your discharge papers in the hallway," Darry said. "You're a free man."

"Cool. I got most of my stuff ready to go already… you bring me some clothes?"

Darry grabbed the bag he had dropped earlier in one of the chairs by the door, and brought it over to Soda.

"You're gonna hafta help me, Dar," Soda said, struggling to get his hospital gown off over his cast. Darry shot a look my way, and I figured that was my cue to get lost for a while so he could help Soda get dressed.

"Do you know Two-Bit's Room Number, Soda? I guess I'll go visit him while you guys… uh… take care of things in here."

Soda laughed at my embarrassment.

"Three-sixteen, down the hall to the right. And you better make sure he's decent before you go in there, too!"

I turned and left and heard Soda still laughing at me as I headed down the hall. He wasn't usually one to tease me too much, but I guess the combination of his painkillers and his happiness at getting out of the hospital was making him act a little bit Two-Bit-ish, which was strange, because once I arrived at Two-Bit's room, peeking in first to make sure there was no risk of indecent exposure, I found him to be quite non-Two-Bit-ish. He was grimacing as I walked over, not even noticing I was there until I got right up to the bed. I had never seen him in real pain before… only sad, like when Darry and I had to tell him our parents had died. I didn't like seeing him then, or this time either.

"Hey Scooter," he whispered, his voice raspy, obviously trying to manage a smile but failing miserably. He winced and let out a small gasp the moment the words left his mouth.

"Two-Bit… are you okay?" he was scaring me, looking so… well… hurt. From what Soda had said, I had expected him to be turning cartwheels off the bed and whistling Dixie to drive his roommate crazy. I glanced at the other bed and saw that the person occupying it was asleep.

"Yeah, 'm okay…," he said. I could see his hands gripping the sheets so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.

"Two-Bit… you're not okay. What should I do? Should I get a nurse?"

"Yeah, maybe… I tried pressing the button, but…," he squirmed in obvious pain and squeezed his eyes shut, drawing in a breath through clenched teeth, "nobody came."

"I'm getting somebody. I'll be right back." I turned and ran out the door, heading back down the corridor toward the nurses' station I had passed on the way to Soda's room. Just as I rounded the corner, Soda emerged from his doorway in a wheelchair, being pushed by Darry. For a second I was panicked… I knew Soda hadn't hurt his legs, but then I remembered that for some reason they always made you leave the hospital in a wheelchair.

"Scout, what's the matter?" Darry looked worried. I probably looked like somebody was chasing me.

"Two-Bit… he needs a nurse. He needs medicine… or something, I don't know! He's not just kidding!"

Darry handed Soda off to Ponyboy.

"What room is it?" he asked. I had forgotten.

"Three sixteen," Soda said. "I'll show you." He got up out of the wheelchair and, out of nowhere, a nurse appeared, barking orders at him to sit down.

"No, he's okay," I said, motioning to Soda, "but… our friend, he needs you. He's been calling for a nurse, but nobody came." I was already leading her by the hand back to Two-Bit's room. Darry and Soda followed, along with Pony, who was trotting along behind them still pushing the empty wheelchair.

As we entered the room, I was shocked to see that Two-Bit was actually crying. He wasn't making noise but his jaw was clenched and tears were running down his face. The nurse rushed over to his chart and read it.

"What is going on here?" she exclaimed, and hurried out of the room.

"Hey!" Darry chased after her. "Aren't you gonna do something? Can't he get something for the pain?"

"I'll be right back," she called, and Darry came over to join us at the bed. Ponyboy looked equally as upset as I did, and Darry saw that the situation wasn't really comfortable for any of us. Two-Bit saw us staring at him and tried to turn away, but only winced in pain again.

"Soda, go out in the hallway with Pony and Scout until the doctor gets here."

Soda looked at us, then back at Darry, and apparently decided that arguing with Darry wouldn't be worth it. I backed out the door, staring disbelievingly at Two-Bit in the bed.

"Darry, is he…"

"He's okay Scout, the doctors will take care of it." Even as he spoke, he was leaning in, grabbing Two-Bit's hand and leaning in to talk to him in the voice that never failed to calm a Curtis, though I had never heard him use that tone with Two-Bit before.

As we left, a group of nurses and a doctor rushed in the door past us, closing it behind them. Darry came out a minute later.

"Is he okay Darry, really?" I had never seen Two-Bit look like that, and it had upset me far more than it would upset me to see any of my brothers crying, though I wasn't quite sure why.

"He'll be okay. They missed his last dose of pain medication somehow. They told me we should probably just go – whatever they are giving him now is just gonna make him sleep."

Pony still looked as concerned about things as I did – I was guessing he had never seen Two-Bit in a state anything like that either.

Darry noticed, of course, and put an arm around each of our shoulders, squeezing us against him, one on each side.

"He'll be okay, guys. I promise. The hospital just messed up." Darry looked over at Soda. "You need to see Sandy before we go?"

"No, actually… she already went home, she stopped by my room on her way out this morning."

Everybody was quiet for a moment and, suddenly, the nurse who had originally ordered Soda to get back in the wheelchair emerged from Two-Bit's room. She gave him a look and he sat right back down in the chair.

"Anybody want to go home?" Darry asked.

"Wheel me away, boss," Soda said. Darry released his grip on me and Pony, and we all headed down the corridor.

……………………………….

We had been driving for about fifteen minutes in relative quiet. Pony had jumped into the front with Darry and Soda and I got in the back so we would be able to stretch out a little more. Both of us were still pretty achy and I was wishing I had asked Darry for another one of those muscle relaxants before we had left to get Soda. Sitting in the car was particularly uncomfortable, and I was squirming nonstop, trying to find a comfortable position. Soda was sitting sideways watching me with his back against the door.

Finally, Darry broke the silence.

"So… Soda… and Scout… I…uh… I have to ask you something." He was staring straight ahead, eyes still on the road.

Soda and I looked across at each other questioningly. Darry wasn't usually one to beat around the bush with us. Soda didn't look any more comfortable with it than I felt.

"Okay…" I ventured.

"Well, I know… I mean, you, especially, Scout… I know how you feel about court…"

"We're in trouble again, aren't we?" I interrupted. "God, I knew it, as soon as I saw that cop. So, what? What did we do now? What are they blaming on you now, Darry? They think it's your fault somebody crashed their car into Soda's?"

"No, Scout, you've got it all wrong. Just listen, okay?"

I stopped talking, but the anger inside me was already starting to boil over. I had absolutely no faith in the system, and was nothing but livid at the thought of having to justify my family situation to them once again.

"Okay," I said, but only because it was Darry asking.

"Nobody is blaming anybody, for anything. None of us, anyway."

Soda and I were both silent at first. Finally, Soda spoke up.

"Then why would we have to go to court? We didn't do anything wrong."

"I know, Soda," Darry said, still staring straight ahead as he drove. "You wouldn't be defending yourself. You and Scout would be the ones suing…you against the state."

"What?" I was totally confused.

"Scout, you told me the light was green, right?"

"Yeah. It was." I had seen it, clear as day. "I was looking right at it. It was green. I swear."

"Well, the guy in the car that hit you swears he had a green light, too."

My heart sank.

"What, so I have to prove that I wasn't lying? I'm not lying, Darry. God, why don't people ever listen to me?" I was trying not to yell.

Darry slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road, finally coming to a stop. I read this as an indication that he might need to be available to provide comfort for someone who was likely to need it; namely, me. I still didn't get what he was talking about; the thought of court being anything but an attack on our family was completely foreign to me.

"God, Darry… what, so they're gonna try to take me? Again? Because they think I'm lying?" I wasn't yelling yet, but Soda slid over on the seat and reached out and pulled me toward him with his good arm. Darry was leaning over the gap in the front seat now, facing us.

"No, Scout," he said, authoritatively. "No. Look at me! I knew you wouldn't like this…but listen to me, okay?"

I hesitantly looked at him. I knew if I got sent off to Social Services it would be no fault of his, but, God, at that moment, I was angry. We hadn't done anything- not this time or any other time, either. I needed my family more than Social Services could ever possibly understand, especially after what had happened to me… about which, of course, they knew nothing.

"We're okay, Scout. Our family, we're fine. Nobody is coming after us. We are going to be together. That isn't an issue here, okay? So relax about that. We're all staying together."

I allowed myself to be hugged by Soda, but needed more of an explanation in order to completely calm down.

"Then, why…"

"The light, Scout," Darry interrupted. The cops think you were right. It was green. And so was the light that the guy who hit you saw. It was the signal… it wasn't working right. Nobody is blaming you or Soda or me for anything. The cop told me that yours was the third accident in three weeks, in exactly the same place, and just about at the same time. They think the signal is broken, and the state didn't fix it, when they should have. There never should have even been a second accident, much less yours- the third one."

I was shocked.

"What? So they actually believe me?" I was accustomed to being the little kid whose testimony always seemed to mean little.

"Not just you, baby." Darry was fully turned around now, as was Pony, staring at Soda and me in the backseat. "The other driver says he had a green light, too. This is the only accident where they have had witnesses from both directions."

"But… why does it have to be me? The courts never listen to me anyway. Either that or they don't even let me say anything."

"You're alive, Scout. The people in both of the other accidents died. You and Soda, and Sandy and Two-Bit… you're the lucky ones. You're still alive to tell what happened."

I thought about Sandy, who had been going to have a baby, and now wasn't. I wondered if she felt lucky. I sure didn't, at first, until I really thought about what Darry had just said. I could have died. Soda and I both could have died. If we had been the ones crossing that intersection a week earlier, Darry might not have been putting me in bed the night after and telling me how glad he was that Soda and I were okay and that he loved me… Instead, he might have been, along with Ponyboy, planning the funerals for another two members of the Curtis family.

"It was their fault, baby. None of us is in trouble, they are. We'd be the ones suing them. There should have never been an accident – everyone was following the traffic signals. There was something wrong with that light… and the state didn't fix it. None of the drivers did anything wrong… the state did, by not being responsible and following up after the first accident."

"I still don't get it, Darry. So now they know it's broken and they have to fix it… what's the point of going to court? So somebody goes to jail?" I really wasn't sure why I would have to go to court over this. What would it matter? I already knew that, regardless of what any court decides, it doesn't bring back dead people. Besides that, I really didn't want to go back to court, for anything. I hated that feeling, that started a full week before – that feeling of not knowing what they were going to ask me, of worrying that I would say the wrong thing, or that everything could change because I screwed up.

"It's about money, Scout." Pony, who had been listening intently, suddenly joined the conversation. "Right, Darry? If we sue them and we win, we'd get money."

"Yes... and so would the families of the people who died. And it would hopefully make the state be a little more responsible about fixing stuff that's broken."

I didn't say anything. God, how I hated court.

"Why would I have to do it? Couldn't just Soda tell them? He saw the green light too."

"He lost consciousness, Scout. They can say that he might not remember clearly. You didn't. You're the more believable witness."

That was certainly different, me being the most believable.

"Look, Scout, I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do. I know I promised you we were done with court, after last time. But, if we sue them and win, the money could really help us out."

"What if we don't win? Do we have to pay them?"

"No. Nothing bad happens to us."

I wasn't so sure about that, since it seemed like something bad was always happening to us. I stared at the back of the front seat.

"Scout?" I looked back up at Darry.

"Yeah?"

"Just think about it, okay?

"Okay."

Darry turned back around, started the car, and headed us back toward home. Soda lay back on the seat, his head in my lap, resting his cast across his chest. I just stared out the window, thinking.

There was nothing but silence the rest of the way home.