Isoya: *screams* I didn't update since April??!! Are you effing serious??!! Oh my God, and I still have to work on In the Hands of Others, not to mention all the other stories that I wrote in my free time and still haven't finished! And I'm putting stuff into my new room and homework--
Dally: *dumps a bucket of water over Isoya's head*
Isoya: *takes deep, shaky breaths* T-thanks.
Dally: That wasn't to help you. That was for my pure entertainment.
Two-Bit: *cracking up nearby*
Isoya: If you don't shut up, I will kill you off in this story!!
Two-Bit: *screams shrilly* Nooooooo!!!!
Darry, Johnny and Ponyboy stifle their laughter while Soda, who is drinking his chocolate milk, does a spit take, making all the milk that he had been drinking land onto Steve.
Steve: EEWW!!!
Darry: *sighs* Must I always be the responsible one?
All: YES!!!
Darry: Fine. Isoya does not own any of us. We belong rightfully to S.E. Hinton. Now I'm leaving before she makes me do it again. *walks off*
Isoya: But don't you wanna know what happens to your brother?! *to readers* Review please!
-Sodapop POV-
"Damn," I muttered under my breath as I let the wrench I had been holding slip through my fingers. It landed with a loud clatter on the ground that echoed throughout the garage.
But in my mind I could only hear the echo of the shot that rang through the air. The gunshot I had only fired only hours earlier.
From his position under the car, Steve called out, "Soda, you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," I muttered under my breath. I rubbed my blood-shot eyes; I probably didn't have more than three or four hours sleep last night. There was a sound a rolling wheels and I looked up. Steve had rolled himself out from under the car and was looking up at me weirdly. I had never actually seen my best friend so concerned before. He sat up.
"Ya sure?"
"GODdammit, Steve, I said I was FINE!" I snapped, making Steve jump. The force of the impact Steve had landing on the platform again made it roll underneath the car; Steve fell on the hard concrete of the garage. Any other time, I would've laughed. I let out a deep breath and leaned against the side of the Impala. "Sorry," I whispered, staring out of the garage door, into the street.
There was an uncomfortable silence before Steve spoke up again.
"Soda," he said hesitantly. "Did something... happen, last night? Darry told me how upset you were this morning."
I turned my head slowly to face him. "Really?" I said coldly. "And what else did he tell you?" I stood up and walked away from the car, away from Steve, to the other side of the garage. Steve remained where he was sitting.
"Well, he also told me that you were running away last night?" Steve was talking calmly, but I was fuming.
"Of course he did," I said quietly, putting as much venom as I could into it. Steve fell into silence again. After a moment, he hesitantly spoke.
"Soda?" I turned to him, and he slightly cringed, clearly hoping I wouldn't shout at him. A wave of a familiar terror washed over me. He looked so scared...
Well, you should be scared, Steve.
"Is something wrong?" he finished. I took a deep breath and relaxed slowly.
"No, man. I'm sorry," I muttered. I rubbed my eyes tiredly. "Just had a rough night." A really rough one...
"Did you get any sleep?"
I sighed. "No," I said, for once in what seemed an eternity, truthfully.
-Darry POV-
It wasn't that late.
But the sky was almost dark by the time I got home, and I was really in the mood to go have a long rest. So I tried very hard not to think that I still had to pay a few bills, pick up Pony from the library at nine-thirty, and make sure Soda's food was edible.
I drove onto the narrow driveway and parked the car. I got out as slow as I could, trying not to make my aching back worse. I had just climbed up the stairs to the porch and had my hand on the doorknob when I realized the house was completely quiet. Real quiet.
Starting to worry, I went inside quickly. Soda was sitting on the couch, staring at the television. The TV wasn't even turned on. Soda was just staring at it.
I don't know why but that sent a chill up my spine.
"Hey Soda," I greeted, heading into the kitchen.
"Hi Darry," he slurred. Slurred? I walked back to the living room, staring at Soda, eyebrows furrowed. He didn't even acknowledge that I was there. I raised my eyebrows and shrugged.
"Okaaaay. Well, come on, you still have to make dinner." I was heading toward my room.
Then out of nowhere...
"You're bossy."
I turned back to him, completely taken aback by this random fact. "What?"
He looked up at me innocently and shrugged. "You're bossy," he repeated. Then he gave me a look over, from head to toe. "And huge."
Soda drawled out that last word and when he was finished he let out an uncharacteristic giggle. I threw my head back slowly and sighed. Crap. "Are you drunk?" I asked, looking back at him, already expecting the answer.
He shrugged again, extending his arms to his sides. "Yeah. So?"
I glanced down to his feet and saw a couple of empty alchohal bottles sitting there. I glared at them while Soda randomly muttered, "Stupid." (1)
I wanted run over to him, grab him by the shoulders and shake him as hard as I could, all while shouting, pleading with him to stop doing this. That he was scaring us with his behavior. I didn't like my brother drunk. I didn't like him acting this way, acting as though nothing were wrong with him when clearly something was wrong! And I didn't like that he was turning to alchohal and possibly drugs instead of his brothers or his best friend! I didn't like this new version of my brother. I want him to become that happy kid that had considered me his hero since he was a kid, that lively brother that was one of two reasons I even wake up every day. I hated his new self. I hated it...
I hated him...
My eyes widened. I hated him.
"Come on, Darry, it's not exactly like you hide it," Soda said, checking one of his empty bottles and turning it over upside-down, checking in vain to see if there was any left. I turned my gaze on him again. He rolled his eyes. "Okay, I got it from work, alright?" he said, smiling. I shook my head, trying to shake away previous thoughts. It was quiet for a moment, where Soda gave up searching for more alchohal and returned to staring at the television. I sighed.
I inhaled and exhaled deeply, and just sat down on the recliner. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, rasing my hands to rub my temples. I was just trying to relax.
When I looked back over at Sodapop, he wasn't smiling anymore. There was no trace of humor that had just been there seconds ago; in fact, he just continued to stare at the television (another chill spread throughout my body), this time his eyes were lost and confused. I've never seen him so depressed, even when he was sober.
Soda took a deep breath. "I did it, you know."
I looked back at him, startled. "Did what?"
He turned his gaze on me, and I noticed something that I couldn't see before: his eyes were wet. "Last night..." I detected a slight quiver in his voice.
For the third time already, I shuddered. I remembered what had happened last night, with Soda running for his life, not knowing I had almost hit him with the truck, and the way he had acted. Something had scared him awful--
"That kid that was wasted..." he continued quietly. My head snapped up. Please don't say what I think you're about to say.
"I.. was the one that did it."
I don't know what came over me, but all I remember was that my fist slammed against the coffee table in front of us. Hard. But Soda didn't so much as flinch.
"You don't say that," I growled fiercely. I wasn't mad; I was scared. I was scared that what Soda had said was true. I mean, he did run like the goddamn Devil was after him last night. And the way he wouldn't tell us what he had seen, I didn't think is was him that had done it!
No, no, no! He didn't do it. He was involved in no murder, and he sure as hell didn't kill anybody. I made myself believe what I was thinking; this was my brother! He would never kill anyone! Pretty soon, I had myself convinced, and turned to Soda. His eyes were misty with the tears the he hadn't shed yet. "You didn't kill anyone."
"Yeah, and how do you know that, Darry?" he said sharply, looking up at me quickly. I didn't say anything. "Does make a lot of sense, doesn't it?"
"No," I cut in. "It doesn't."
"Damn it, Darry!" he shouted. "How do you know?! How do you know it wasn't me?!"
"Because it isn't you!" I yelled over him. He was quiet.
"This whole thing isn't you, Soda! This-" I gestured at him, "-isn't you! Honestly, Sodapop, I can't believe that you just suddenly changed into this! You're scaring us!"
That made him cringed, backing deeper into the couch, and looked down at his knees.
Ignoring this, I continued. "Just please! Don't ever say that again, okay? You didn't kill anybody."
After a while of silence, Soda finally nodded, rubbing his eyes. I didn't know if it was for the tears threatening to fall or if it was just drowsiness. That thought in mind, I got up from my seat. "Alright. C'mon. Let's get you to bed." I knew he was in no condition to walk, so instead of wasting my time supporting him just to get to his room, I placed an arm around his waist and one underneath his knees and picked him up. I was shocked; he was so light.
Sodapop didn't seem to have a problem with me carrying him; in fact, he wrapped both his arms around my neck and nuzzled his face in it, the way he used to do with Dad when he was little. I smiled, and took him to his room.
In his room, I carefully placed him on his bed. Before I could let him go, he spoke. "You gotta watch out for me."
"I already do, little buddy," I said, containing my surprise. I tried to lay him down, but he held on tightly. "No. I mean, really watch out for me."
"Soda--"
"Promise?"
I was silent. Soda raised his head and stared hard at me.
Finally, I sighed. "Promise." (2)
He relaxed instantly, and finally let me go. Carefully, I laid him on his back, unwrapping my arms from him, and he lifted himself up to pull at the covers from underneath him.
"Okay, Soda. Try to get some sleep okay? I'll be in the living room if you need anything," I said, getting up and turning to leave.
"No, please stay with me 'til I fall asleep," he pleaded, sticking out his bottom lip. I had to laugh.
"Okay," I said, giving in. I turned back into the room and grabbed the nearest chair, dragged it over to Soda's side of the bed, and sat down. Soda smiled and closed his eyes. In a matter of seconds he fell asleep.
But I stayed there for a while, staring at my younger brother. I once heard Pony tell me that I looked younger when I slept, young and carefree, yet vunerable. That exactly how Soda looked right now.
He looked like the Soda we knew best. There was even a smile on his lips as he slept. To my surprise, tears starting to fill my eyes. I missed him... badly.
I decided I had to leave in order to pick Ponyboy up in time. But before I left, I leaned over Soda, briefly kissing his forehead.
"I love you," I whispered.
To my immense relief, those words couldn't be truer.
(1) This is from a Supernatural episode which was called, I believe, "Playthings," where Sam had gotten drunk and Dean had found him in the hotel room they were sharing.
(2) Same episode, but Sam made Dean promise that he had to look out for him since it seems that Sam thinks he was a danger to himself. I dunno, I haven't seen the episode in a while, but it's really good!
BTW, I'M SORRY!!!! I know people are probably mad at me for keeping them waiting for so long, I know! But a stupid thunderstorm knocked the Internet off my computer for a month and then school started, and with the back-breaking amount of homework we get every day, I barely have time for anything! But But I'm gonna try to be on more often now, mm-kay? Thank you! Love you all!
