A/N: First of all, thank you all so much for the reviews. You guys are great and I love it when you review and request things! The list of one shots to write is so nice and long! I love it! You guys are the best ever! I mean it. This story would be nothing without every one of you. :)
Second, I'm messing up the order I usually go in here but I'm going to switch things around so that I can put some Vietnam themed one shots together. There are two counting this one in the works so I'll put them up and then get back to the usual order of things. I'm sorry for the inconvenience but I hope you like this!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders and I don't own the song Brothers by Dean Brody that I used the lyrics from.
Story Seven
Sodapop and Ponyboy
"I'll Always Be Your Brother"
You come back you hear?
And I let him see my tears
I said I'll give you my rookie of DiMaggio.
I'll do anything you want,
Clean your room, or wash your car.
I'll do anything so long as you don't go.
But he said, this is what brothers are for.
Drip, drip, drip, drip.
Ponyboy Curtis didn't flinch in the slightest from the rain. He could hardly even feel it. None of this felt real. That was because it couldn't be real. This day was never supposed to come. It should never ever have reached them.
He had been here too many times.
Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip.
The rain was turning from a drizzle to a real shower.
Ponyboy kept his head up as both the rain and tears fell down his face. He looked around briefly. There was Two-Bit, head bowed, gray eyes clouded over from hurt, and Steve, face hard and angry, tears welling in his dark eyes, and then Darry, who had tears running down his cheeks, unable to hold them back, just like pain was everywhere and nothing else seemed real. The pain and denial and an explainable panic was all he felt as he watched the casket be lowered into the grave.
It wasn't fair.
Dripdripdripdripdrip.
Now it was pouring.
As the ceremony ended, the teenager still didn't move. He stared at the grave, tears pouring out of his eyes. He had no idea where the tears ended and the rain started but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered except for the new and yet familiar feeling of pain and mourning. He wanted it to stop. He needed it to stop.
Dripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdrip.
The rain was such a cliche… Pony could almost hear his missing brother laughing at it for that reason. A fresh wave of pain stabbed him like a knife.
"Ponyboy," said a strained voice from far away. "Ponyboy, let's go home."
Home. He didn't want to go home. Home was never going to feel like a home again. It would never feel as friendly, inviting, joyous… It would never be as loud as it had been in the past and it would never be as creative.
Ponyboy ripped himself away, shaking his head. He was muttering under his breath, what he wasn't quite sure himself. He felt himself move towards the grave even though he couldn't remember deciding to go to it. He knelt beside it.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."
They couldn't have helped him. There was nothing they could have done. Absolutely nothing.
A sob escaped his lips as his cries increased drastically. He stared at the tombstone that had the name on it. The name of his hero. The name of his best friend.
Sodapop P. Curtis.
With a strangled sob, Ponyboy sat bolt up right. He gasped for breath and looked around his room. He felt panic rise again when he saw the spot beside him empty but then he looked at the clock and realized it was late in the morning. Then he heard the water running and took a few deep breaths. It was okay.
Slowly, he got to his feet and got dressed slowly.
But this was the day.
And it wasn't okay.
Sodapop's last day in Tulsa. After today… After today he'd be off to boot camp to train for a war he never wanted to fight. What if he didn't come home? Lots of people didn't come home. It could be Soda next.
Pony shut his eyes tight, taking ragged breaths. He was getting ahead of himself but suddenly that reoccurring nightmare he'd been having didn't feel very far away. He slowly moved to the door, willing himself to be ready to face the day.
Just go out there, he thought to himself. Every second you waste here is a second you could have spent with Soda.
He pulled the door open just as Soda walked out of the bathroom, a towel tied around his waist. "Hey, sleepyhead. Finally joining the rest of us?" He gave him his characteristic grin and moved past him into the bedroom.
Pony glanced after him and shrugged, unable to take his eyes off his brother. What if this was the last day they ever spent together?
Soda raised an eyebrow. "Mind getting yourself out of the doorway and shutting the door so I can get dressed?"
"Sorry." Pony stepped out and shut the door behind him.
Darry looked up from the newspaper. "Hey, kiddo. You doing okay?"
Pony merely shrugged.
"I know it's rough," Darry said softly. "But, listen, Two-Bit will be over in a bit and we gotta act as happy as we can. We want this to be a good day for Soda." He nodded, wishing Darry would stop watching him like that. "He'll be okay, little buddy."
He nodded and went into the kitchen. "What are we doing today?"
"This afternoon we're hitting the arcade," Darry replied. "Then going to Sal's Diner for dinner."
"Sure."
"The party is here!" called a cheerful voice from the doorway. Ponyboy looked over his shoulder as Two-Bit loped inside. Soda came downstairs and Pony looked between the two of them and Darry. He found it hard to believe that this was all that was left. Steve had been drafted eight months ago and was still out there. At least he was alive. But now they were losing Soda too. That would leave three of them.
Three left of eight.
A shudder escaped him. Trying to shake it off, he picked up his plate of chocolate cake and moved to the table. When would the loss be over?
Soda and Two-Bit were joking loudly and Darry was laughing but Pony knew that all of them felt as weary as he did. They couldn't afford to lose anyone else. Should they really have to? He poked at his cake, feeling sick.
He had no idea how to say goodbye to his brother. Whatever he said could be the last thing that passed between them.
Soda met his gaze and Pony managed to plaster on a smile. But he could tell from the dark look in his brother's eyes that he saw through it.
The day wore on and, despite his looming dread, Pony found himself having fun with the others. As usual, Soda's grin was contagious. He had a feeling that if it wasn't for that, even Two-Bit couldn't keep a happy face up.
Ponyboy grinned to himself as he watched Two-Bit and Soda loudly and competitively playing a game with each other. He looked at Darry, who was laughing and shaking his head. As he watched his oldest brother, he couldn't help but notice the pain hidden in his blue eyes.
He was jolted out of his thoughts as someone thudded into the seat beside him. "Hey, you know what I want to do?"
Pony looked at Soda. "What?"
"I want to beat your ass at a game."
Pony couldn't help a smile. "You think you can beat me?"
"Hell yes I do."
"You think you can beat me?" Pony repeated with more volume as he got to his feet.
"Hell yes!" Sodapop got to his as well, eyes bright.
"What are we playing?"
"Whatever we feel like playing!" Soda led the way through the arcade. "I can beat you at anything."
"Oh, yeah right."
"It's true."
"It is not! I'll beat you."
"Oh, no," Soda smirked. "I'm undefeated."
"I'm quacking in my boots."
"You ain't wearing boots smarty."
Ponyboy stuck out his tongue and was about to reply with a smart comment but Soda cut him off before he could. "Yes!" His older brother bounded to a machine and stuck a coin in it then started playing.
Pony had to laugh. It was one of the games set aside for kids, probably about ten or younger. But there was Soda, having the time of his life. As Pony reached him, Soda thew his arms into the air, grinning triumphantly. "26! I got a 26!" He grinned at Pony. "Beat that."
Taken off guard, Pony raised an eyebrow, unable to stop himself from grinning. "This game? This game right here? This is our contest."
"Hell yeah. Now buckle down and play." Soda grinned and slapped him on the shoulder before stepping back.
Ponyboy took his place in front of the machine and took his turn. He had to admit it was a fun game. Soda had good choice and these makers knew what they were making. When it ended, he nodded. "26."
"No!" Soda grinned and peered over his shoulder. "You too? Well, damn it! I wanted to hand you your ass! And I know I did better than you! This ain't right!"
Pony couldn't stop laughing. Soda joined him a second later, bending over and clutching his side with laughter. It didn't seem near as funny to anyone else there, they knew that. But to them it was the funniest thing in ages.
"Fine, fine. I got it," Soda gasped as the laughter finally slowed. "When I get home, we're coming right back here and doing a rematch."
"You're on." The two of them shook on it, both grinning competitively.
Maybe Soda hadn't sat with him and told him it would be okay until he pretended to believe him like he had expected, but he'd done something better. By doing this, being his big brother and laughing and talking trash about a kids' game and being so confident that they would get the chance to have a rematch, Pony felt a lot more reassured. His brother could handle anything. He really could. Besides, no world would be so cruel has to pull Sodapop Patrick Curtis from it at such a young age.
And, as Ponyboy looked at his brother's familiar wild and reckless grin, he had faith that he'd come home and that they'd have a rematch. On the other hand, he wasn't naive enough to think that he wasn't going to worry every day or have sleepless nights. It was going to suck.
But he was starting to think about when Soda got home, instead of when he didn't.
If anyone could get out of Vietnam, it would be his brother.
His wonderful brother who was so brave and tough. Soda could do anything, he really could. He was kind and empathetic, so he'd have a hard time out there but at the same time…. Pony had the feeling that because of that kindness and empathy he was going to touch at least one person's life. That was who Soda was. He'd impact people over there. There was no question in that.
"Come on, kid." Soda swung an arm around his shoulders. "I wanna get ice cream. You put up a good fight there, by the way." He heaved a dramatic sigh. "A worthy enemy you have become."
"Who talks like that?" Pony laughed, shaking his head.
"You got a problem with that buddy? Because we can go right over to some game and the trash talk can start again."
He laughed loudly. "We're cool."
"Well, good. 'Cause I'd hate to do nothing but trash talk you tonight." He fixed him with a mock serious look. "But I will if I have to."
Pony grinned. "Yeah, all right, Soda."
Soda grinned and pulled him closer, wrapping him in a headlock. Pony laughed and tried to get out of it but was unsuccessful. Soda let him go after a minute, grinning widely. "Hey, Pone?" The grin slowly started to fade and was replaced with a grim and serious look.
"Yeah?"
"You know I'll always be your brother. I know we can't talk like we do for a while," he said quietly, "but I'll always be thinking about you. And I'll write. And I'll be your big brother before anything else. That's just how it works."
Pony was quiet for a minute then nodded. "I know."
"Also…" Soda sucked in a deep breath. "I'm coming home. I really am."
He was quiet for a longer amount of time before responding this time. He thought over his answer. Of course he was going to say I know but did he mean it? Did he really know that? "Yeah," he said, "I know." And it was then that he realized he did.
"Good." Soda looked relieved as he smiled at him. "You remember that. You ain't getting off the hook with that game. Now, I'm going to go round up the others. Stay here so I don't lose you too, eh?" He bounded off and Pony looked after him.
Actions sure speak louder than words but it was nice to hear it from Soda too. They'd always be brothers and Soda was coming home. That was all he needed to know. It was enough. But honestly… It was more than enough.
