Alrighty then. This is the fifth draft of this chapter and I think I am going to go insane if I even attempt to write it again. This one is the best of the five, but I really don't expect anyone to like it. It just sets up the next chapter and it could have been skipped and left as a footnote or something in the next chapter, but hey. Why not?

Disclaimer: The usual

On with the show!

Chapter Six: Things Left Unsaid

"What are you doing in there?" A voice asked mixed between shock and anger

I turned to where there was a kid of maybe fifteen gaping at me like I was on the top floor of a downtown building ready to jump. It was obvious to see he figured himself a wrangler with that cowboy hat on and a real Soc look to him. He needed to grow up and learn to avoid people who had no reservations against beating the bloody hell out of him. I scowled at him, but didn't pause in my brushing of Goblin. I was pretty sure he was just waiting for me to forget he was there and then he'd remind me with a good, solid stomp on my foot. Evil should have been this horse's middle name.

"I said what are you doing in there?" he repeated, "Only local staff is allowed in there."

"I'm talking to Goblin," I answered not bothering to tell him I was a local

I doubt he would have believed me, anyways. There was a big rodeo going on through the weekend and I had seen different brands from all over the country and out of the country - That poor Canadian was going to get beat out of this competition but it was good for a laugh when that happened. There were so many strange folks wandering around that it was a wonder there was room enough to breathe in here. Goblin felt it and he was more ornery than usual. I was a little put off by it, but that could have been the fact that I wasn't participating in the rodeo events this year and that it had almost been a day since I had had the time to eat anything. I'd hardly had the time to do anything but be here with that horse. I'd had him so brushed and clean that he looked like milk. He'd been drilled so much that I was sure he would tell me where to go if I even reached for that bridle again. And everyone had seen what an angel he was. They were all in for a surprise.

"Francisco doesn't need to be talked to. You should get out of there before he kicks you," the kid advised breaking my train of thought

"He won't kick me. We're old pals," I said and Goblin stomped, his ears going back "Ok, we're old mutual acquaintances."

"You're crazy. Absolutely insane!" he still looked shocked "Get out of there before you get hurt and I get in trouble."

I glared back at him again and absently scratched Goblin behind the ears. He pricked them back up again, but I could tell he didn't like this kids half as much as I did. I brushed out a few of the tangles from his hair absently, trying to figure out if I knew this kid from somewhere. I wasn't making any connections, which meant he wasn't worth my time.

"I wouldn't do that. He hates being brushed," the kid spoke again and I was surprisingly annoyed

"And how the hell would you know what he likes and don't like?" I asked running the brush along the side of my leg to get the white hairs off it

"I've worked here for the last year. I've seen him bite, kick and stomp on people and other horses," the guy answered looking proud, "It don't take a genius."

That was obvious. I didn't answer him as I slithered back along the side of the stall so I could reach the other side of Goblin's back. He would have flattened anyone who went behind him, but I was just lucky some days. Either that, or he was smart enough to know I was the only thing keeping him from being pestered by brats like this kid. I wouldn't put it past him. He was one hell of a thinker; you could see it in the way he looked at things.

"Horse, you have a tougher rep than I do these days," I commented and Goblin nibbled at hay idly.

"You know what? I'm just going to go and get my boss," the kid said darting off towards the barn doors

"Better yet, get Buck Merrill and tell him to bring me a beer," I called after him

Once he was gone, I sighed and stiffly pulled myself up so I was sitting on the stall wall. Goblin didn't seem to care and I suddenly wished I were a horse. To have no cares in the world would be nothing less than bliss. I shook my head at my own stupidity then. Why would I want to be a smelly creature that stands around eating and shitting all day long?

I sighed and rubbed at my arm a bit. That damn horse had had a fit earlier before that kid showed up and knocked the hell out of my right side. Now he looked like a bloody angel. That was fine with me. I was looking forward to the show when all the cowboys would sign up to ride him during the show. He was one horse that just bucked for the hell of it and he knew his business when they led him into the shoot and climbed on his back. Racing was different. That horse loved to run and have his head when he was doing that. And when he had a rider on his back that could give him his head…well, he wasn't a prize horse for nothing. That's one of the reasons Dally and him always got along so well. The horse was nearly as wild as Dallas was, so the pair of them were wilder together than any other racing team I had ever seen. I just hoped I had become wild enough to do the same.

I pulled one foot up onto the wall and let the other dangle into Goblin's stall before I idly picked a piece of hay from the bushel in there and let it hang out of the side of my mouth. Damn, did I feel like a hick right then.

"So, Francisco?" I asked and Goblin's ears went back immediately "I don't blame ya. If my parents had have called me that, I would have gone by something else, too. That kid nearly flipped when I called you Goblin. You know, I still think we should have called you something meaner. Like Satan or Diablo or something –"

That's as far as I got before that damn horse kicked the side of the stall I was sitting on and I lost my balance, tumbling over into the next stall. I barely had the chance to roll as close to the wall as I could and cover my head with my arms before the horse in the next stall jumped wildly to get as far away from me as possible. I cursed loudly and laid still until he – and from this angle I was pretty damn sure it was a he – settled down enough so he wasn't hopping and stomping all over the stall. When I thought it was safe, I pulled myself up and climbed back onto that wall. Goblin was still munching on hay and I wanted to hurt him.

"You did that on purpose and if we didn't have that damn race tonight, I would wallop you one good!" I snapped

This time, I was ready for when he kicked at the wall and I reached up and held onto one of the higher beams that made up the roof of this stall. Lily had told me once it was better that the horses all had high vaulted ceilings where they were, but right then I was glad the Slash J was so cheap. I scowled at that horse as I climbed along the wall and over the pen to the outside. We both glared at each other and I was tempted to start a one sided cussing match when the kid started hollering again.

"There he is! He was in the stall with Francisco!"

"Ok, horse. You want me to come back, then you put on the right show," I muttered to Goblin before turning to see whom the kid had bothered to dig up

"Well, I'll be damned! Here the kid had me thinking that I had some unsavory character from out of town stirring things up and it was just Curtis. When the hell did you quit the DX?"

I sighed and shook my head at Jeff. He wasn't the brightest guy out there, but he had always been a good person. He had run the stables since before Dally and I joined on with Buck and it looked like he was still running them. I straightened up a bit and wiped some of the straw off me, thinking of how I wanted to handle the situation. I sighed inwardly. This was Jeff I was standing in front of. Simple was the name of the game.

"Soda still works at the DX, but it's nice to see you can place a last name still, Jeff," I replied

"Good one. Now, what brings you around here?" he asked

"I came to see Goblin here," I answered

"He means Francisco," the kid piped in and Jeff waved him off

"Yeah?" Jeff removed his cowboy hat and ran his hand through his blonde hair "That's nice of you. He ain't been the same since Winston died and then Pepsi-cola stopped comin' by and he got real mean…well, meaner. I'm damn sorry about him dieing over there on Chink soil. He died with his boots on and a Commie on the end of his rifle, though, and that's all his country could ask of him."

I rolled my eyes. Jeff was simpler than I thought. I hated this. I was just going to have to stick a sign on my forehead telling everyone I was alive. I took a minute and explained it to Jeff. He was looking at me with wide eyes and whistled low and long when I was done. Like I said, he was simple, and I'm sure he was the most suspicious fucker in Tulsa because of it. When he finally was sure I was me, he smiled a bit and welcomed me back. All the while, the kid was staring at us like he'd been denied a treat. I wasn't surprised when he came roaring to life all of a sudden.

"Jeff, he was in there with Francisco," he repeated the obvious "You said you'd fire us if we even thought about that."

"Matt, this here is Pepsi-cola Curtis. He is just about the toughest sonofabitch I have ever met. If he wants to be in any stall with any horse, you don't bat an eyelash. Why, the last time this boy rode, he out lasted the bull he was on because he was too damn stubborn to let go. Either that, or the crazy glue the boys put on his glove earlier kept him seated on that bull for about ten minutes."

I smirked. "It was a little of both, Jeff."

"Then there was that time you tangoed with that mountain lion. You should see this bastard's shoulder…"

I wasn't paying too much attention any more and I didn't care if Jeff was getting his stories mixed up. I was watching the kid. He was giving Jeff and me the dirtiest looks he could muster. I just stood there and nodded along whenever Jeff hit me on the back enthusiastically. You'd think I was a good friend of his rather than the guy who managed to nearly drive him crazy every night I rode with the Slash J. I found it kind of funny, mostly because the kid looked like he was going to start a bout of steam through his ears. All I could help thinking was that I would give them a show to remember tonight.

A while later Jeff left saying there was something in his eye, leaving just me and the kid. I patted Goblin on the nose before silently leaving the barns and heading for home. I never ate on the day of a rodeo, but Darry seemed to think my tradition needed to be broken by one of his own – trying to get me to eat. I wasn't going to disappoint him by being too late and he was going to try his hardest, that was for sure. I walked in the house to the delicious smell of baked beans and broiled burgers. It was heaven to the nose and it made me pretty damn hungry, but remembering the way those bulls thrashed around and the way Goblin would push me, I decided I could pass and heat it all up in the oven later that night so I didn't end up throwing most of it up. I sighed, figuring I would have to ignore the celebratory drink that Buck always insisted on or I would be the cheapest drunk in the place. And with my rep, I couldn't afford to be.

"I was expecting you home an hour ago," Darry commented coming out of the kitchen with a tea towel over his shoulder

"I got busy at the stables." I shrugged "Jeff Nash over at the Slash J."

Darry merely nodded. He had met Jeff a few times and even went to school with him for a while, if memory serves right, but they had never been buddies. Jeff seemed to think that everyone was his buddy, though, so it could have very well have been on sided. He knew what he was like, though, and I knew he understood completely.

"Well, supper's almost ready."

"I'm not hungry, Darry."

"You really should eat something. You'll need something in you before Buck breaks out the booze."

"I'll lay off the booze tonight. I don't feel much like drinking anyways." I shrugged

"You say that every time."

"I mean it this time, though."

Darry sighed and shook his head and I couldn't help but give a little grin. Some things just didn't change and I was glad for that.

"Soda and I were talking this morning. He and I were thinking that you need a night out. I can get all of you in free, if you want to come."

"We'll see. Soda and I probably could make it. Ponyboy got asked to work for a while tonight," Darry answered leaning against the wall

"Hell, I'd be proud if even the pair of you would come," I said meaning it "You haven't come to a show since Soda quit."

"I know."

And that was all there was to it. Darry was never one to explain himself to anyone, even me. Sometimes I thought it was a good thing, like I did now, but sometimes I wondered if it was just his way of keeping some distance from the harshest bit of reality. He may have been superman, but he was also just Darry.

"If I win any money tonight," I started "I think I'll start saving it up."

"Oh? And what are you going to buy, little man?" Darry asked as I sat down on the couch

"A car," I answered "So I can get the hell out of here."

Darry studied me for a minute and I closed my eyes. Sometimes I didn't explain myself, either, and I know that sometimes Darry would have preferred I did. I think he was leaning towards that tonight, but he didn't say anything. He just sat down beside me on the couch and set a hand on my shoulder, just like he had the day it hit me hard that Dallas was dead and gone and never coming back. I wasn't sure why he was doing it this time, but I was grateful for it all the same. And that was the way we sat until Soda asked what was burning and Darry jumped up to go and salvage dinner. I opened my eyes and wished I wasn't so damn chicken. I never could thank him for anything and it was the same now. Maybe if I had a little more courage I could have told him how much I appreciated some of the things he did. He always managed to say the right thing and made me feel better about everything. Then there were the other times when he just let me know I wasn't alone.

Some times I loved him most for the things he didn't say.

/Darry's POV/

It was past midnight when we finally made it home. I wasn't mad anymore, but I was plenty disappointed in Pepsi-cola and pretty annoyed with him because of it and it had me in a bit of a grumpy mood. He said he hadn't planned on drinking, but Buck can be mighty persuasive, especially when all the riders were sitting there wondering if, and this is word for word what Pepsi-cola told me, 'if he was man enough to be there'. What can I say? Pepsi had never been one to say no to peer pressure, upholding his pride, and drinking at the same time. Heaven help Ponyboy if he ever starts picking up that habit. As one could imagine, Pepsi was pretty damn drunk by the time I got to him and he was grinning like no tomorrow. I couldn't begrudge him the last part. He hadn't been happy since he got home. I almost was happy to see him grinning like that, before the stench of alcohol hit me and it took about everything I had not to yell at him right then and there. To think I had thought he was happy about winning that race…

Two-Bit was sitting on the couch when we walked in. He was reading through a magazine, but he looked up when we came in. He sent me an odd look from where I was holding up Pepsi-cola and I sighed in return.

"Hi," he offered putting down the magazine "Have fun at the races?"

"Hell ya!" Pepsi slurred

"Well," Two-Bit raised an eyebrow "Someone's drunk."

"Yeah, he's drunk," I said glaring at Pepsi who had opened his mouth to say something "I should have expected this, but after the whole speech he gave me on not planning to get drunk, I let my guard down."

"I am not –" Pepsi started to tell me something – most likely that he wasn't drunk – but I just plain didn't give me the chance

"Yes, you are," I said firmly "I haven't seen you this drunk since I got drafted."

Pepsi frowned at me until a look of realization came over his face. It wouldn't have surprised me if he had forgotten. He didn't like to remember the things that hurt and he was drunk to top it off. Well, I could easily refresh his memory for him. It was about two months before he got sentenced to Vietnam. I had received my letter in the mail saying I had been drafted and it was a real shocker. The scary part was that since Sodapop and Pepsi were both 18, there was a pretty damn good possibility that they could have become Ponyboy's guardians. Hell, one of them could have been and the army could have easily drafted the other one. The system was screwed up and Pepsi chose to handle it with an old stand by he had sworn he'd given up: alcohol. So, he did something stupid and left the house and then ended up at Buck's for two days. When I told him the last part he hadn't believed me, but some people honestly do lose track of time when they get so drunk they pathetically can't crawl out the front door. I knew where he would have gone but it had taken me a few days to cool down about everything enough to finally bother to track him down, drag him home, and sit with him through the worst hangovers of his short life.

I knew he was upset, but he had handled it the wrong way and I was so disappointed in him that it hurt. He had tried to run away and hide in a bottle while we needed him to be there and be part of our family. What made it worse was that he was so miserable that I didn't have time for anyone else to be miserable and I couldn't stay mad at him. He wouldn't be my outlet for all the anger I felt, like he had on so many other occasions, and it didn't help my disposition any. I guess there was a plus side. I couldn't be miserable for myself and getting mad didn't ever help. So I was just there, working hard to get what needed to be done accomplished. And it kept me sane.

At that point, Pepsi and I had become friends again. It was my job to understand and I understood perfectly. If I went off to Nam, I knew there was a slim possibility I would see him or Soda or Ponyboy again. I guess he knew it, too, and he was out to make up lost time. He didn't go back to Buck's. He was around the all the time and stalked me wherever I went in the house. If I closed a door, he was on the other side of it and if I went anywhere, he was the one to jump up and go with me. As touching as it was, it had started to drive me a little crazy after a while, and it was the exact opposite as I would have expected him to act. I could have sworn he and Soda were trying to be funny by switching roles for the week if the situation hadn't been so serious. Soda was the one who managed to be the most distanced and he helped to hold all of us together, insisting that they would have to change their minds and I was going to stay home, if he had anything to say about it. I suppose Ponyboy was just lost through it all. Whatever happened to me would directly affect him. He didn't say anything, but I knew it hit him hard, too. He couldn't help but notice how hard Pepsi was taking it and he probably got it better than any of us because he could remember going through the same thing. He'd lost Johnny in that hospital room. He knew what it was like to wait to be told when your best friend was going to die.

They shouldn't have worried. I fought tooth and nail to stay here and finally managed to get it through the social service people's heads that Soda and Pepsi couldn't take care of a gold fish, let alone Ponyboy, and that I was the only one that could. But that week had been one of the worst we'd had since Mom and Dad died. Losing Johnny and Dallas was tough, but to Pepsi-cola just the thought of losing me must have been a hell of a lot worse. He never told me, but one night I did overhear him tell Soda what it all came down to in his mind.

"…How can you sit there and be so damn confident that he will be ok?"

"Pepsi, what good does it do to pretend he's on his death bed?"

"I have not been –"

"Yes, you have. And short of driving Darry crazy, you haven't accomplished anything. What's the good in that?"

"I don't know, Soda. I just…I won't loose my best friend again. I can't," Pepsi declared "He said once that he couldn't promise me he would be around forever, but…this is too damn soon."

"He could come out of all this just fine. You can't assume the worst, not when he's not even gone and when there is a possibility he might not even go at all."

"And if goes and the worst happens?"

"Then we'll have to handle it when it comes," Soda said evenly

Pepsi had sighed and put his head in his hands at that point. Soda had placed a hand on his shoulder and they sat like that for a while.

"This scares the hell out of me, Soda."

"It scares me, too."

"You sure don't show it."

"One of us needs to put up the tough front. It's just my turn."

"We need him," Pepsi stated, "If it weren't for him, we would have ended up in a boys home somewhere and we would have fallen apart without him a long time ago. Who's to say we won't when he goes? We're all we have left. Why can't they just leave us the hell alone?"

"Hey, it'll be alright. He's not gone yet," Soda had reminded him in a soothing voice

"I know. But I wish they would just get on with it. I don't think anything could hurt more than just waiting…"

"I'm not drunk," Pepsi said trying to push my helping arm away and bringing me back to the present "I'm just still dizzy from that ride."

"That was an hour ago," I reminded and Pepsi frowned

Two-Bit laughed right about then and I wanted to throw something at him, but I was pretty sure I would have missed and broke our only lamp or ended up dropping Pepsi. Either way, I would have a mess to clean up.

"Sure you are," Soda said sincerely, putting his hand on Pepsi's free shoulder "That ride would have left anyone dizzy."

"Yeah." Pepsi nodded along

"Alright. Walk to the couch on your own then and we'll see how sober you are," I challenged, letting go of him

I could tell he wasn't ready for that and he nearly fell over, but Sodapop had a hold of him still and he managed to keep Pepsi upright. When he had a bit of his balance, I waved Soda off and let Pepsi make his way over to the couch. He swayed a few times, but he made it. He was too stubborn not to. He did look like he was going to be sick then, but instead he looked over at me with big, astonished eyes.

"Darry…I think I'm drunk…"

"Get a load of this kid," Two-Bit laughed, "He sounds like he just figured that out!"

Pepsi made a swipe at Two-Bit that missed and he nearly ended up falling off the couch. He still had a bit of that astonished look on his face as he looked back over at me.

"Lily used to say something about admittance," he slurred and I was surprised that Soda understood him

"She was talking about drinking," Soda said sitting down beside Pepsi "And how admitting you have a problem with alcohol was the first step to getting over it."

"I admit I'm drunk. Can I get over it yet?"

I felt a small smile creep to my lips, but I was still annoyed with him and nothing was going to change that. Two-Bit laughed and stood up to stretch.

"You know, as much as I love seeing this kid acting so loose, I think I'll be heading home."

"You're welcome to sleep on the couch," Soda offered

"No, I'm not," Two-Bit offered looking briefly at Pepsi "Night, y'all. Have fun."

We all called good night, some of us in actual words rather than slurred tones, and Sodapop had his turn to be the one to sigh.

"I forgot." He shrugged looking at Pepsi hopelessly

Ever since Pepsi started having these nightmares, he'd ended up on the couch at one point in the night or another. I finally suggested he switch beds with Soda so Ponyboy could at least get some sleep at night. He was too tired around his job to be getting no sleep at night and Pepsi knew I was right. It was a strange bed and it probably made those dreams worse, but he never lasted the night in it, anyways. That stupid couch was his best friend and heaven help anyone who was dumb enough to be sleeping there when he woke up. Two-Bit had been manhandled, twice, and Steve had been unceremoniously tossed off it last night, but both of them knew what was going on and neither had been looking for a fight. Steve had left and Two-Bit had grumbled before heading down the hall to Soda's room. It was mean of him, but he got his share of the sour looks they gave him the next morning and nothing was ever really said about it. It bugged me that our open door policy was crumbling around us but it bugged me a hell of a lot more that I couldn't do anything at all for him and it scared the hell out of me to see him thrashing and yelling like that. Ponyboy's nightmares had never been that bad and he didn't have them anymore. Back when he did, the doc had prescribed so much activity that he would be too worn out to have those dreams. Well, from the way Pepsi was working down at the Slash J and coming home exhausted the way he was, I was beginning to think nothing was going to help. I really wanted him to see the doctor, but now wasn't the time to bring it up. He was too drunk and I was too tired.

"What's going on?"

"Hiya, Ponykid." Pepsi grinned not opening his eyes, "I'm drunk."

"I'm sure he would have figured that out," I sighed glancing at where Ponyboy was standing in his work clothes looking tired "How was work?"

"It was fine. I never mind working the closing shift," Ponyboy answered, "I take it he won."

None of us had to answer him but Pepsi-cola grinned a little wider anyway. I suppose he was proud of himself. He had stupidly ridden an insane horse in a race he was guaranteed to lose and had come out a winner. I was proud of him for that, but after that…I was just going to have to yell at him tomorrow when the hangover had set in. Sometimes it was a pain to be your little brother's best friend and big brother. He'd understand, though. He always did. It was just something left unsaid between us around all the yelling.

Sometimes, it was better that way.


Well, that is the end of a very long, time consuming, yada, yada, yada, chapter. Here's hoping someone enjoyed because I did.

Any comments at all are welcome and flames are accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!

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