Note: Wow, thanks guys for all the reviews. I was actually worried at first about posting this story, but I'm glad you seem to enjoy it. It certainly encourages me to keep writing it quickly. Be sure to tell me if something seems too rushed or confusing.

Along Came a Spider

Chapter 6: Private Curtis

It's technically Tuesday as of two hours ago. Two-bit fell asleep on the couch after getting stupid drunk, and Darry is wearing a hole in the carpet from walking back and forth across his room so many times. I'm in his bed reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest for school and wondering how good the movie we saw would have been if I had actually watched it. There's a lot of things unsaid between the two of us, and it's almost suffocating.

"What did you tell him?" Darry asks me suddenly in an unemotional tone. Unemotional is usually my role these days, so it surprises me.

"Hm? Whatcha mean?" I ask him cautiously. Strangely enough, with Two-bit asleep on the couch and Soda due home any time now, I'm not worried about Darry hurting me. I'm sure it's not a very smart state of mind, given his state of mind, but it's how I feel nonetheless. And it's about damn time.

"Two-bit. What didja tell em'?" He asks more specifically. He stops pacing the room so that he can look at me. I glance up from the book and back down at it quickly.

"I don't know what you're talking about Dar." I answer more bravely. I'm hoping he'll go back to his pacing and leave me the hell alone. Of course, I've never had such luck.

"Ponyboy Curtis, put the fucking book down and answer me. Don't feed me this bullshit about not knowing what I'm talking about either." He demands angrily. He's not yelling since he doesn't want to wake up Two-bit, but not even that'll stop him if I keep it up. And Two-bit won't be much help drunk.

"Darry, I didn't tell Two-bit anything. He came over, we hung out, and I listened to his lame-assed jokes about the difference between an orange." I tell him truthfully, smirking at the memory of Two-bit's joke. Now it does seem kind of funny. Darry obviously doesn't think so though, because he grabs the book from my hand, rips it in two, and throws the pieces across the room.

"Do not fuck with me Ponyboy!" Darry hisses. I stare at the pieces if the book aimlessly.

"Just so you know, that book wasn't mine. Now I'm going to have to buy a new one." I state unemotionally. Darry jerks me out of bed and slams me into the wall. My left shoulder throbs with pain.

"I will not take this kind of disrespect from you Pony. Now you have five seconds to tell me what the fuck was said between you and Keith! I know something was said, an idiot wouldn't miss the looks the two of you were passing! Him not wanting to leave me with you alone, him sitting between us. What did you tell him, huh? Did you tell him I punish you when you don't do what you're told?" Darry is practically screaming. I'm desperately hoping that Two-bit will wake up even though I know he's a heavy sleeper.

"Darry...Darry please. I didn't say anything to him!" I try, backing up against the wall as far as possible. He slams his fist into my stomach and I double over with fatigue. The room spins as I try to regain strength. Just breathe, I tell myself.

"Darry please. Darry, I didn't have to tell him anything. He could just tell. He saw my face and he knew. Please don't hurt me!" I plead. Darry grabs a fist full of my hair and yanks my head back so that he can look me in the eyes.

"All I want to do is keep you safe. I try and I try and this is what I get." He says sadly. Even though his grip doesn't loosen, his face changes to one of disappointment.

"I love you Pony, don't you see that? I love you and I don't want you to get hurt. I couldn't keep Soda safe. He was taken away from me. And now you're trying to get taken away from me too. Well, I won't let that happen Pony. I love you too much. I will not let someone take you from me." He whispers fiercely.

"Darry, it's not like that. I don't want to be taken away. And Soda? Darry that wasn't your fault." I tell him. He lets go of me abruptly and punches the wall beside my head. I flinch unwillingly.

"It's was my fucking fault! I shouldn't have let them take him away from me!" He yells.

"He's coming back though, Darry! He's coming home any time now." I remind him. He turns to face me and takes a step towards me. I don't step back, not because I'm not afraid, but because I've got no where to go. Darry wraps one arm around my waist and the other around my head, pulling me into him. I bury my head in his chest and hug him back, crying into him and he cries into me.

"He's coming home." Darry's words muffle into my hair. "He's really coming home."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoO

It's four in the morning and it hasn't stopped raining for nearly two hours. Darry finally cried himself to sleep, and Two-bit never woke up from drunk dreamland. I'm sitting on the front porch, listening to the raindrops smash against the roof melodiously. I've always loved to watch it rain. It's so nice when it's this quiet and no one's out. It thunders every now and then, and sometimes the lightening strikes through the sky, but it's so still between those times.

Even though I can't sleep, I find that I'm too tired to do anything but let the wind rock me on the wooden front porch swing. I remember the day we first had it put up. It was the day that Soda decided he wanted to be an astronaut. Mom had told him he'd have to go to school for a long time, so I guess it's out of the question now.

I'm too tired to even write letters in my head. I tried writing one to Johnny since I haven't in a while, but I didn't get past 'how've you been" before I forgot what I wanted to say. I'm not really sure what there is to say. When you've went through so much with someone, it's hard to pretend that "I'm okay" is the acceptable answer to everything.

A black car slows down in front of our house, the headlights coloring the street in front of it. For a moment nothing happens, the car just sits there catching rain. Then, a figure hops out of the passenger seat and slings a dark bag over his shoulder. I stand up and place my hand in front on my face, as if it were sunlight keeping me from seeing who it was. The man waves at the car, watches it drive off, then stares at me from the middle of the road. I step out of the protection of the front porch and let the rain soak me. Water runs down my face and hair and sad-excuse-for-pajamas. I take another step towards the figure and let my hand fall down to my side.

"Hey you!" The man calls, dropping the bag to the ground. He opens his arms out towards me. I run like Satan is after me, flinging myself into his arms and tasting the salt water as runs over my lips. He twirls me around in the empty street, laughing and crying at the same time.

"Soda...I missed you so much!" I cry, squeezing the living daylights out of him. He puts me down and stares at me happily, brushing my wet hair out of my eyes. He smiles and pulls me back into a hug.

"That's Private Curtis to you."

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"But it's the truth, even if it didn't happen."

-Ken Kesey, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

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