A/N Hello again! So a warning for the beginning of this chapter, it toes the line between T and M rated, with some trigger warning, so be careful, but it isn't very explicit so you should be good to go. As per usual I own everything you don't recognize, SE Hinton owns the rest.
The first thing I feel is hands on my waist, rolling me from my side to my back. It's probably just Darry moving me around when I'm sleeping, like normal. But the hands continue, moving up, under my shirt. It isn't right. Darry's hands aren't this cold. The hands push my shirt up, above my breasts, I hear it tear at the seams. It's too rough, Darry isn't like this. I fight to open my eyes and wake myself up. Weight joins the hands, heavy on my hips and chest. I finally blink my eyes open and Dallas is hovering above me. He looks up from my chest to my face, grinning.
"Dally—," I start, feeling panic rising in my chest.
"You're not going to make a fuckin sound sweetheart, you dig. You're gonna keep your fucking mouth shut or the whole neighborhood's going to barge in and we don't want that, do we."
"Dally," he yanks down my skirt. "Dally stop it," I say, still fighting off sleep.
"Shut it bitch!" Dally bites back, his hands moving. Everywhere. Pulling in my hair, on my breasts, across my thighs coming to tear my underwear down. I cry out at the noise it makes and he shoves a hand over my mouth.
"I've been waiting a long time for this Catie and you ain't gonna mess it up by whining." He removes his hand only to fumble with the zipper on his pants.
"No, stop!" I tell him weakly. He backhands me across the face. Hard. The slap wakes me up completely and I'm crying now, tears spilling down my cheeks, eyes opened wide. His pants are down.
"Wait, Dally please!"
He thrusts into me with one motion, and I freeze. I can't move. I can't speak. I can't breathe. I can't feel anything except pain. It's starts off sharp and grows bigger and stronger each second. Burning on me and in me. I can hear him grunting above me, bile rising in my throat. I can hear him speaking, lewd words spilling from his mouth but I can't- I don't want to hear. I shut my eyes, tears still escaping without my permission, and focus on the pain. It keeps growing. Consuming me, swallowing me, becoming me. It's too much pain it hurts so much. And it won't stop. I just want it to stop. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but I'm crying too hard. I can't do anything and it hurts. It hurts too much.
And then it stops. I can't open my eyes, not yet. I rely on my other senses. I feel him get off of me. I hear the sound of the zipper. I feel the slight breeze created when the screen door opens and closes. I hear the creak of the front gate.
I want to get up. I need to get up. I can't get up. I can't move. I can't think. I can only lay there and listen to my heartbeat echo in my ears.
The slam of a car door sounds through the house, jolting me up.
Darry can't know what happened. It's my first thought. I sit up quickly, ignoring the black spots dancing across my vision.
Darry can't know what happened.
I move to the kitchen, my legs shaking beneath me as I use the wall for support. I grab the cleaning supplies from under the kitchen counter.
Darry can't know what happened.
I move back to the couch, and kneel next to it.
Darry can't know what happened.
I scrub. I scrub the entire couch, front, back, side, top. All of it. I scrub the carpet next to the couch and the coffee table.
Darry can't know.
I scrub until the coffee table starts reflecting after all of the polish, and I see myself.
Shit.
My shirt. My hair. My face. I back away from the table as fast as possible, falling over myself and banging into the wall. I'm breathing heavy, scanning the room, hoping someone will jump out and say it was all a joke, or a dream.
No one jumps out to stop this nightmare.
I'm up and moving before my mind can catch up, barreling towards the bathroom and locking myself in. I flick on the taps in the shower, forcing it to go as hot as possible. I strip of the remaining clothing I was still wearing, not bothering to see if anything is savable.
I step into the shower, the water scalding, but I refuse to adjust it.
I let the water stab into my skin like red hot needles. I grab the brick of soap, rubbing it harshly across my body.
I have to erase everything. I need to get rid of every mark, all of the tainted skin.
Darry can't know.
I scrub harder. I scrub away at all of my skin until little pinpoints of scarlet blood start pricking up all over my body. That's when I stop. I turn off the water, yet stay standing in the shower, letting the water droplets chase each other down my rubbed raw skin. I step out of my shower and find my reflection staring back at me through the mirror.
I turn away quickly, not wanting to see me, see what him did to me, see what he turned me into.
I move into the bedroom, willing myself to move faster, but my feet only shuffle forward. I put on the first clothes I can find, only making sure that no skin besides my face is showing.
Out of the house, I need to leave the house. I leave the safety of the bedroom, planning to make a beeline to the front door, but my path is blocked by Steve, Soda Two-bit and- him walking in.
I can't.
I need to get away.
I change directions mid step, and find myself nearly running out the kitchen door into the backyard. I sit against Darry's tree, not facing the house though, facing the fence. I pull my knees to my chest, and hid my face within my arms.
I can't go in there. I can't. I can't. I can't. Not with him in there.
My heart keeps pounding faster and faster and I can't seem to get enough air with each breathe I take.
Tears fall into my jeans, darkening the fabric, but I can't seem to stop the from falling.
I try to slow my breathing, but it doesn't work. My fingers and toes start to feel numb and my head feels like it's spinning at 100 miles per hour.
I want it to stop. I want to breath normal. I want to feel my fingers and toes. I want everything to go away.
I can hear the sounds of the house seeping into the yard.
I focus on the sounds, trying to use it as an anchor.
Two-bit's barking laugh, Soda and Steve's bickering, the low long drawl that seems to be ingrained in my brain.
I'm too close. I'm still too close to them. To him. I need to leave.
I push up from the cold ground, using the tree to support my shaking legs.
I glance up at the house, all of the lights are on and I can see the boys moving between the rooms, laughing and shouting at each other. Laughing with him.
I move closer to the tree, hiding in its shadow, all while make my escape plan.
I bite my lip in a sad attempt to muffle the sobs that were still racking through my body. If I go into the house - that's not an option.
If I go the right, I would walk against the side that ended next the the front door and the drive way, too risky. Almost as risky as going in. Stop it, I tell myself, you aren't going in.
Headlights blind me for a moment as a car, no truck, pulls into the driveway. I hold my breath, ducking behind the tree.
I wait and I hope no one saw me.
What am I going to do?
Darry's home now.
Darry can't know.
What if he tells Darry?
Darry can't know.
Darry cannot know.
I hear the creak of the back screen door, but I don't dare look out and see who it is. Just in case.
Steve walks into view, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He pauses when he spots me, our eyes meeting.
"You savvy?" I shake my head, not daring the speak. "You want to come inside?" I shake my head again, brushing away tears. "You come in when it gets dark, it's starting to get cold out and I know superman will be worried if you don't show up by then."
Steve begins walking back to the house, pauses and but turns back around.
"I ain't gonna say anything to the gang if they ask, I figure you don't want anybody knowing why you're hiding out here, but I can't be keepin' anybodys from coming out here, ya dig?' I nod.
I don't know how long I sit under Darry's tree, but the sky fades from a brilliant bright blue to a inky navy. I stand up once again, wiping my face on my shirt sleeves. I can walk inside, through the kitchen and straight into the bedroom. No one will even notice, I tell myself as I approach the back porch. I climb the porch slowly, trying to keep the nervous, panicky feeling away.
I open the door and find Soda and Steve playing poker at the table.
I freeze, not even breathing as Soda jumps up, announcing my arrival to the entire house.
"Catie, where have you been?" Darry asks coming into the kitchen, Two-bit follows Darry in, and he follows behind Two-bit.
"I-I," I stutter and pause. I couldn't get the words to come out of my mouth, not with him staring directly at me. I stare at the floor, too angry with myself to even look at anyone else. A conversation started, but I felt like I was a million miles away. I knew my name was being brought up, and I knew that they were talking to me, but I kept my head down. I wasn't ready to be here, to be back in here. I want to leave. I need to leave.
"Catie?" Darry asks, coming closer to me, getting almost too close. Darry brings his hand up towards my face, and I freeze. He knows. He's going to hit me and kick me out. His fingers, like feathers, softly graze across my cheek. "What happened to your face?"
"What?" I ask quietly, allowing my hand to follow his across my cheek, I can feel the soreness there now, a small pain compared to everything else.
"It looks like someone socked you real good," Two-bit comments, "Have you been going to secret rumbles without us?"
"Um, no," I answer, but that isn't enough obviously. Everyone is still staring at me waiting. "Maria was having a tantrum and was kicking up a huge fuss. I was calming her down when she threw the block she had. I didn't realize it did so much damage," I shrug, pretending to be confused. It looks like everyone bought the story, except for him. He just smirks.
"Was it because of the thing today?" Darry asks, trying to be discreet, but it didn't work so well.
"What thing?" Soda questions.
"She-"
"I-" I say at the same time as Darry. Was he going to tell them about the funeral? Was I going to tell them about the funeral? I stare at Darry, he was the one who didn't want them knowing this morning about the funeral, he can decide if he says it now.
"Catie went to Bob Sheldon's funeral today," Darry says finally. It's a fluster of sounds and movement again as Steve and Two-bit flip out. It's too much, too loud, too crowded. And then it stops, and they are all looking at me. I guess I missed something.
"I-" I pause, again. They are all staring at me expecting something. Why? "I can't do this," I manage to get out before a brush past everyone, almost running through the kitchen into the bedroom. I close the door and fall onto the bed. Keep it together, keep it together, you've cried enough today you don't need to start crying again. I hug Darry's pillow closer to myself, his scent calming me down some.
"Darry, wait." That's Soda outside the door.
"What Soda?" Darry snaps back.
"Maybe, maybe give her some time-" I can picture Soda running his hand through his hair nervously, the same thing he does when he confronts Darry about how he treats Pony. Oh Pony. Where is he? Is he okay? Guilt and worry poor through me at that thought.
"Why? She's my-"
"She was at a funeral all day, do you not remember the night after mom and dad's funeral, none of us, including Catie, wanted to do anything. These things are exhausting. Plus it was a soc funeral, we have no idea what happened. Just give her space."
"Soda, you don't know her like I do."
"I'm pretty sure I do Darry. You dated her since I was ten, she's lived here for two years, and I'm telling you to give her space!"
"What if something happened at that funeral?! What if she's not okay?!" I slowly get off of the bed as Darry and Soda get louder and louder. I can't stand them fighting. Not with everything that happened today.
"She would tell you Darry. She would tell someone."
"They could have hurt her, threatened her, something, anything. I should have gone with her!"
"Oh and that would have made it better?! A greaser going to the dead soc's funeral! At least because she was alone no one could single her out as a greaser, I'm positive she blended right in with the rest of the socs!"
"What's that suppose to mean?!"
"Please, stop fighting, it's not helping anyone," I say quietly as I come out of the room. Soda is leaning against the opposite wall with Darry looming over him. Darry spins around, almost catching Soda's jaw with his elbow.
"Catie, did something happen today?" Darry asks grabbing my hands, I flinch, trying to pull back but his grip is too strong for me. Darry stares at me, hurt and confused, and I force myself to relax. I see Soda rolling his eyes behind Darry's back.
"Obviously something happened today Darry, that much is clear."
"Soda," Darry warns, not even turning around, still staring me down, expecting something. Expecting answers from me. I've never kept anything from him, and he's never kept anything from me. But he can't know what happened.
"Can you not tell?" Soda asks, raising an eyebrow. "Or are you just blind to emotion, doesn't matter if it's Catie or Pony."
"Sodapop Curtis! I'd watch your tone if I were you," Darry scolds, finally breaking away, sounding exactly like Mr. Curtis.
"What're you gonna do, scream at me? Hit me? Go for it," Soda taunts. When Darry makes no moves, Soda scoffs and walks out. Out of the hallway, out of the house. Darry looks between myself and door, hesitating.
"Go," I tell him. Don't go, I beg in my head. Please don't leave. I'll tell everything, just don't leave me.
"But-"
"Go." I repeat, hoping he won't listen. Darry sighs looking back one more time before following Soda. I hear him take the boys with him. I slide down the wall, sitting crossed-leg in the hallway. Why did he leave? Because I told him to, and his brothers are more important, I remind myself.
"Catie," Steve says sitting down across from me in the hallway. It's a small hallway, so his legs end up on either side of me, caging me in. But not in a bad way, it's more comforting than trapping.
"Shouldn't you be with Soda?"
"And shouldn't Darry be here with you? And Pony and Johnny be conspiring in Pony's room? And Mr. and Mrs. Curtis be alive? A lot of things should be."
"When you go and get philosophical on me?"
"Not philosophical, just the truth," Steve shrugs, litting up a cig. I roll my eyes, chuckling slightly. This was normal, Steve spitting hard truths and acting like it was as common as commenting on the weather. Growing up around here you learn what the hard truth is before you learn to tie your shoes. "So when are you going to tell anyone what happened today that has you so worked up?"
"I'm not, I can't," I say with a finality to my words.
"Just like that? No one? Ever?"
"Oh, I don't know," I feel myself breaking under Steve's gaze. Maybe it would be easier if I told. I dismiss that idea, they would choose Dally over me anyday. "Maybe someday, maybe someone, but not now, not tomorrow, not until I know it's safe."
"Safe?" Steve questions, raising an eyebrow. Stupid, stupid word to use. "Is it unsafe?" I nod, refusing to say anymore. "Is it ever going to be safe?"
"Maybe, maybe one day?" I say, unsure.
"Can you make me a promise Catie?" Steve asks.
"Depends," I answer slowly, cautiously, knowing promises with Steve can end badly, real badly.
"Swear to me, that whenever it's safe again, for you to talk, you'll tell someone, can you do that for me?"
"Yeah, I think I can," I agree, knowing it won't be safe, ever, not unless he is gone, for good.
"Savvy." I start fiddling with a loose thread at the bottom of Steve's jeans while he smokes through at least half a pack.
"Steve?" I ask after a while.
"What?"
"Thank you," I say quietly, bailing on my original question. I can't bother Steve with my problems. Or anyone. It's my weight to bear.
"What?"
"Thank you," I repeat. I'm not to sure why I'm thanking him. Is it for being here? For staying? For not pushing? I don't know.
"No problem doll," Steve grins, "No idea what I did, but sure."
The screen door slams open, banging against the living room wall and echoing through the house. I jump slightly, grabbing onto Steve's leg.
"You good?" Steve asks, standing up and bring me up with him.
"I will be," I say, taking a deep breath, steadying myself. We go into the living room, surprisingly only Soda and Darry are there.
"Where's Dally and Two-bit?" Steve asks.
"They went to ask around where Pony is again," Darry says. Soda glares at Darry before brushing past me and Steve, heading to his room.
"I'm heading out, Evie's been on me a lot that I haven't seen her all week," Steve says, nodding at Darry before leaving. Great, alone with Darry. Don't tell him, I remind myself.
"Catie?" Darry asks carefully. I shake my head slightly, not ready to say anything. I know if I start talking, I'll tell. And that can't happen. Darry crosses the room and pulls me into a hug.
And I break.
His arms are strong around me, keeping me safe. Holding me together while I fall apart.
"Catie, what happened to you? To us? To everyone?" Darry asks, his words muffled and thick. I look up from his chest and see tear rimming his eyes. I reach up, carefully wiping away the tears before they can fall. "Let's go to bed," Darry says, stepping away to turn off the lights. He returns, wrapping his arms around me as we walk to the bedroom. We get ready silently, i make sure Darry is turned away as I change, he can't see the bruises leftover on my hips and ribs. I finish first and wait for Darry to turn off the lights and lay down next to me.
I try falling asleep, but everytime I close my eyes, I can see him above me. I try counting sheep, thinking of old dates Darry and I had, remembering the plots of books I read in highschool, but he keeps interrupting, looming over me.
I wait until I know Darry is dead asleep, and then slowly move out of his hold and out of the room. I enter the kitchen and sit down at the table. It's only 1:30am, there's still a long way to go until morning.
"Catie?" Soda whispers, sounding shocked.
"You don't have to whisper, he's dead asleep," I tell Soda as he joins me at the table. There's a piece of paper in his hand that he keeps folding and unfolding.
"I didn't think anyone would be awake."
"I couldn't sleep," I shrug, hoping it looked causal.
"Me neither."
"Soda, what's wrong?" I ask, noticing how disheveled and moody he looks. He sighs, handing over the piece of paper in his hand before dropping his head to the table.
I read over the paper, or letter technically. 'Dear Sodapop, My parents made me move to Florida to live with my grandparents. They said they don't want to see me for at least a year. It makes sense, honestly. I guess I should just say it, but I'm sorry. I'm pregnant. Please don't call me, or write me any letters Soda, I know that it's not your's. I know you wouldn't care, and try to raise it yourself. And I think my parents knew that too. That's why I'm in Florida. I'm so sorry, but I don't expect you to forgive me. How could you, I cheated and ended up pregnant. You should hate me Sodapop. Yours truly, Sandy Miller.'
"Oh Soda," I say, dropping the letter and grabbing his hands in mine.
"She's right, I would have taken care of the baby. I would have worked extra, saved up money. Hell I would have proposed, I loved her. I think I still love her, even now."
"Oh Soda," I repeat, "It's hard to stop loving someone, it's one of the hardest things you can do. And no matter what you do, your heart is still going to care about that person, you can't stop that."
"I don't know what to do. I should be angry at her, she cheated on me, but I can't be. Maybe because there's still a chance that she's wrong, and it's mine and maybe she'll come back. And I'm angry at myself for not being angry at her, but I can't be. I just can't."
"It's going to be okay," I assure him.
"How do you know?!" Soda lashes out, pushing away from the table, knocking over the chair. "You've never been in a bad relationship. Your relationship with Darry doesn't even have any problems!"
"You don't know the fights we've had, Soda."
"Like what?"
"You really want to know? Right now?" I ask.
"I need to know," Soda nearly begs, sitting down, running his hands through his hair. There is a hunger in his eyes.
"Well," I start slowly, thinking back to the fights Darry and I've had. "We fought like cats and dogs when I dropped out of OU, we screamed at each other nearly every night for hours, on and on, about how I shouldn't be ruining my future, and how he shouldn't be alone carrying for you boys."
"Why don't I remember any of this?" Soda asks.
"Sometimes, it happened during the day, when you boys were at school. But sometime's it was late, late at night, after both of you were asleep, we would go out to the backyard, or down the street to the lot. I know that Steve and," him "Two-bit saw us a few times."
"What about when you and Darry were like me and Sandy in high school?"
"Darry always got mad when I would have to go work on projects with soc boys. I would get mad when I would hear rumors about Darry and some other girl. Especially a greaser girl. But we would work it out, or if we didn't-"
"Wait, what?"
"Sometimes things weren't easily fixed by an 'I'm sorry'. We would go with our separate friends, get all ready, go over to Buck's, try and make each other jealous by dancing with other people, but still end up together in one of the upstair rooms-"
"Okay, okay, I don't need to hear the rest."
"Did this help?" I ask, still unsure why he was asking to hear about our fights.
"I don't know if anything can help, she's gone," Soda says, dropping his head down to the table again.
"Soda honey, maybe you should try and get some sleep."
"I can't!" Soda says, his words muffled by the table. "Sandy's gone, and Pony's gone, and Johnny too. And somebody hurt you, and Darry's out of sorts."
"Soda baby, you don't need to worry about me or Darry. I know it feels like you should, but we are fine. And Pony and Johnny are going to come back soon and be perfectly a-okay."
He drags his head up.
"Catie, somebody hurt you. You're just about as flinchy as Johnny is, and you can hardly answer any questions about today. What happen? Who did it?"
"Please, Soda, don't. I can't."
"You can't what Catie, just tell me. I promise I'm not going to do anything. I just need to know."
"No," I say, standing up.
"Catie!"
"No, Soda. Now get to bed," I say, sounding exactly like Mrs. Curtis used to. Soda gets up, and shuffles past me, giving me and hurt look. I take a deep breathe, waiting to make sure Soda is in his room. I go into the bathroom, and open the medicine cabinet. I measure out one and a half doses of some cold medicine from last winter, that I knew would put me to sleep, almost instantly. I throw back to shot of medicine, and head back to Darry. I curl up on my side, and his hand somehow snakes around me, but I'm too sleepy at that point to fight how heavy and awful it feels against my hip.
A/N the more you review, the faster these are uploaded, so review, follow and favorite for more on Catie and Darry. xoxo