I figured I should update at least once this month, especially before I leave for Oklahoma in four days. Sadly, I won't be going to Tulsa, but to Oklahoma City. :P

REVIEW REPLIES

Seventh: aw, thanks, bud! Darry's gonna be featured in this chapter as well, so be ready. ;)

Here we go!

Chapter 3:

Home

Soda

It was raining today.

And it wasn't a soft, delicate tapping noise that almost lulled him to sleep more than once. It was a hard rap-tap-tap that seemed to bounce across the car, going in any direction and every direction in order to keep him awake.

There was a dark tint to the world as Soda stared ahead in his beaten up truck, rotating his car keys between each of his fingers in a daze. A grimace had settled itself over his face, making him look pissed off rather than bored. His body ached with fatigue, having not slept in the past few nights; today had been in his mind for the longest time, and now that it was here? He wasn't sure he could do this; he wasn't sure he'd make it past those front doors.

Come on, Curtis, he told himself roughly, scowling inwardly. Get your shit together. You've waited forever for this; just drive and get it over with.

His hand moved toward the ignition, the key poised and ready to be placed in the slot. But as he began to put the key in the proper place, he paused; he took it out, sat back, sighed, and paused.

Momentarily, he thought of nothing.

But then he thought of everything.

He thought of Pony, who sat at home and had no idea what Soda was doing. He thought of Molly, who Soda had told everything to, but made her promise not to tell Pony. He thought of Kat, the love of his life, the light of his world, and how much shit he was going to be in with her once this was all over.

He thought of Darry, who knew nothing of his visitation nor nothing of himself.

Silently, quietly, Soda brushed the tears away from his tired eyes, stuck the key in the ignition and turned.

His first course of action, if he'd taken the initiative to mentally go through everything a second time, should've been to push through security just like he'd always done. He knew the guards; the guards knew him. It would be easy; nothing more than a nod to the two up front and he'd be through.

And as Soda raised his head to do just that, a different set of eyes – ones not so friendly or inviting – met his own. There was distrust boiling beneath the guards composite, narrowing gaze as he approached, and a sigh scattered the air around them as it slipped between Soda's lips. They stood in opposite statures; Soda upright and rigid, the guard slumped over his desk and rolling a toothpick between his teeth.

"Sign in here," the guard said monotonously, his words slightly muffled by the small sliver of wood. Soda could tell how disinterested he was; he danced from foot to foot, his eyes lighting with a small amount of annoyance at how slow of a pace Soda was taking things. "You deaf or somethin', kid? I said sign in here." He pointed with his fingertip to a small black line sketched out on the pure white paper in front of them.

A sudden dread washed over him as he took the pen into his hand. He could feel the guard's eyes watching him; he could feel everyone watching him as he scrawled his name across the line in blue-black ink, his entire body trembling.

"Who are you seeing today?" There was a sudden interest that bloomed in the guard's voice as Soda slid the paper back in his direction. A sly smirk passed over his lips as he opened a drawer close to the bottom of the desk and put the paper inside, only to draw out another. "Don't talk much," he mused with a glance into Soda's dark gaze, "do you, kid?"

Soda took no notice to the laughter that was laced with his words. "I'm here to see my brother," he stated simply.

The guard's smirk grew. "And who might that be?"

"Darry Curtis."

"The psychopath?"

Soda clenched his jaw, bile rising in his throat. Psychopath...disgusting. "Yeah," he murmured darkly, "Him."

The next few moments were a blur. One minute, he was signing his name across a small slip of paper; the next, he was being scanned with a metal detector.

"Part your legs," the guard's order sucked Soda back into the present. "Time to pat you down."

Soda let out a humiliated grunt and did as he was told. The click of the guard's shoes echoed in his mind as he bent to Soda's torso and began to pat his way down both of his legs, first at the front and then at the back. "Satisfied?" Soda asked heavily once the task was finished.

"Go through," the guard said, avoiding the question. "Just tell the other two back there that you've filled out all your paperwork."

He voiced his thanks and slipped through the double doors without another word. The white hallway seemed to be larger than he'd previously remembered; and as he walked, his footsteps seemed to carry him faster than ever despite his slow pace.

A word to the guards just before him; a quick glance to his right, followed by one behind him. Swallowing the urge to run, Soda stuck his hands into both of his jeans pockets and turned down the all-too-familiar corridor.

His first impression of Darry was quiet.

Quiet, actually, didn't begin to cover it. Darry was solemn; mute; oblivious to Soda's presence as well as his own.

He looked...frightened.

Soda couldn't blame him; not really, with the outside world – the places, the people – being foreign to him. With his family, friends, and even his own reflection being foreign to him.

"Darry?" He kept his voice light as to not startle him. "Do you know who I am? Do you know where you are?"

It took a moment for Darry to process his words. When he spoke, the words that left his mouth practically made Soda stop breathing.

"I'm in hell," he paused to lock eyes with Soda. "And you're my brother."

A grin, of all things, twisted Soda's mouth. "You've one of those things right," he murmured, sliding the metal chair opposite of Darry across the ground and taking a seat. "I happen to be your brother."

"But I'm not in hell?"

"Not by my standards," Soda folded his hands and leaned forward in the chair so that he and Darry were holding each other's gazes again. "And not by yours, either, I hope."

Darry was quiet for a moment; then, he spilled out a question Soda didn't expect him to ask.

"Are you still here?"

Soda's heart twinged with hurt. Delicately, he reached forward and placed one of his hands on top of Darry's, murmuring, "Yeah, bro... I am, and I'm not going anywhere."

"I didn't expect you to be here so long," Darry's eyes flashed with pain. "Usually, they scare people away."

"Who?" Soda raised an eyebrow, frowning. "Who scare –"

"The voices," Darry answered straight-faced, his eyes narrowing horrifically on Soda. "The voices in my head."

He bolted before he had a chance to sob.

"How did it go?"

"Don't ask me that," Soda growled through the darkness.

Kat's hand tightened around his. "Someone's sassy," she teased at Soda's aggravated huff in response. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me," Kat hissed lightly.

"Then don't ask me stupid questions." Soda lashed back, immediately regretting using that tone of voice. He heaved himself up so that his legs were hanging over the bed, and he felt Kat's cheek press into the back of his neck.

"Talk to me," she whispered, her breath warm against his shoulder. "I've missed us."

"We're fine, Kat..." he sighed heavily, shutting his eyes.

"I've missed you."

Her words made him turn; made him take in the pain shadowing her gaze. It made him become overwhelmed with emotion; with hurt, with anger, with despair. "Kat –"

"Tell me how it went," Kat stated again, harsher this time. "Everything; from how it started to how it ended and everything in between. This is killing you, Soda..."

He paused to gather himself; to gather his emotions. Then, in a breath that seemed to flow too quickly from his lungs, everything came to an abrupt end.

"I saw him... I saw him looking like he's been in hell. He's gaunt, probably hallucinating everything he's seeing, and can't even remember if I'm in the room. I heard him talking about the voices in his head. I saw his eyes flash with so much pain, so much anger at himself and at the world that he can't even see past his mistakes... He's angry, Kat... He's angry at himself and at me and at Pony –"

He paused, feeling a sob beginning to choke him. Kat's breathing was barely there; almost as if her next breath relied on him speaking.

"Kat..."

The sob ran through his lungs, through his heart and up into his throat.

"He's just like Pony."

She didn't judge him as he broke down in her arms.

emotional, emotional, emotional! Thank you for reading!

–Sunny