Author's Note: So sorry this took so long guys! I was hoping to have it out sooner, but i agonized over this chapter trying to get it just right. Hope you like it!


Chapter Nine

Darry wasn't real sure where he was going and he really had no destination in mind. Without really making a conscious decision, he ended up on the road where the drag race had taken place. He pulled over to the side of the road near where he knew the spectators had parked their cars. This was the last place anyone had seen Soda.

Darry got out of the car and carefully surveyed the open field. It had a very eerie feeling to it, though he couldn't quite put into words what really made him feel unsettled. The area was quiet, but the quiet almost seemed unnatural somehow. No wind blew and no birds chirped. It was like all the life had been sucked out of this place.

He took a short walk around the empty field. The grass was still crushed in places where cars had been parked. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but he really hadn't expected to find anything anyway.

He didn't stay long. After walking around for only a few minutes, he headed back for the car parked on the side of the road. He climbed into the driver's seat but then hesitated as he studied the road.

"Sodapop Patrick Curtis," Darry mumbled to himself. "Where the hell did you go from here?"

Assuming that Soda had made it to the truck – something that wasn't even guaranteed – Darry tried to put himself into his brother's shoes. Where would he have gone? Steve had said that he had seemed tired after working a double shift that day. He would have wanted to take the quickest route back home… wouldn't he?

Suddenly, something popped into his head. When Soda really overworked himself, he was prone to getting migraines that seemed to be triggered by his stress and exhaustion. It had been a long time since the last time that happened, so Darry really hadn't thought of it before this moment. When the migraines got bad enough to keep him home from work, Soda was known to stay in his room all day with the lights off and the curtains drawn, often pulling the covers over his head for good measure if it wasn't too hot out.

That was because Soda's migraines made him very sensitive to light.

As Darry sat there, he tried to picture what this currently deserted area would look like with the drag races going on. Most of the action would be going on in front of him. That meant a lot of headlights would be going every which direction with cars going up and down the road for the races and more spectators coming and going into the makeshift parking lot. If Soda was feeling sensitive to light, those headlights were going to put him off immediately.

Darry turned in his seat, looking back behind him. What if Soda had been more concerned with getting away from all of the activity than he was with getting home quickly?

Latching onto that thought, Darry started up the car and then quickly executed a U-turn. Rather than turning immediately to get to the fastest route home, he continued to head up the road. It probably would have been darker with much less activity up this direction. It was a very roundabout way to get home, but Darry could see Soda thinking that this way was going to cause him the least amount of pain.

Now, this was not a route that they had not already driven. Over the last couple days, they had covered virtually every inch of the city as they had driven every possible route between the drag race and the house, no matter how unlikely. So this didn't feel like some big revelation or any kind of breakthrough to Darry. Really, it simply felt like a passing thought that he decided to follow for a while in order to distract himself from the fact that no progress had been made in locating Soda in days. Nothing more than that.

There were several roads that Soda could have turned down that would have circled him back toward the house if he had indeed come out this direction. Darry passed several of these roads, following the road he was on out farther toward the country. Then, very arbitrarily, he turned down another road. Out this far from the city, the roads were all pretty deserted. He took his time as he drove, his eyes continuously wandering off to the sides of the road. There were no businesses out this way, only trees lining the road.

Darry wasn't sure what possessed him to stop. He would think back on this moment often in the future, and he had no answers as to why he stepped on the brake, slowing the car until it came to a stop in the middle of the road. There were no indications that anything was amiss. Despite that, it felt like a cold stone of dread had fallen into the pit of his stomach. He looked around at his surroundings. There were no cars coming up or down this road. The trees had retreated back a good twenty feet or so, making this spot feel less closed in. But there was no logical reason for what he did next, only gut instinct.

He stepped on the gas again, but this time only enough to ease the car off to the side of the road in case anybody did come along. Then he put the car in park and carefully climbed out. He looked around. At first, nothing looked out of the ordinary. He saw skid marks on the road, but that wasn't unusual. Then he noticed the way the grass just off the road was torn up as if someone drove through it. He walked forward, feeling a bit like he was in some kind of trance. He stopped at the edge of the road and looked around, not at all sure what he was looking for.

Then he saw it. All at once he saw it.

It was a decent ways off of the road and down in a ditch, half hidden by a tree branch that had fallen on top of it, the green of the truck blending in with the green of the leaves, which is how they kept on missing it anytime they had driven down this road. But now Darry was looking right at it. It was the truck. He almost forgot to breathe. After all this time he had found it. He could hardly believe that his desperate mind wasn't just playing tricks on him.

He wasn't sure how long he had stood there before he was moving forward. Everything had seemed normal from the angle that he had been standing. But as he moved, he quickly saw that the truck was mangled. He felt lightheaded but he didn't stop moving toward the scene, taking in more details as they were revealed. The front of the truck was smashed in and the driver's side door was crushed into a tree. He couldn't yet see if there was anyone inside. He suddenly stopped in his tracks. Was he really prepared for what he might find in there? Was he strong enough for this? Maybe he should just run and go get help…

Even as the thought occurred to him though, he knew he couldn't do that. He couldn't leave until he knew if his brother was still inside. He had to see this through… even if it destroyed him.

He took a deep breath and took a step forward. Then another. He suddenly felt detached from the whole situation, as if he were watching it from some faraway place. And deep down he knew what he was going to find as he approached the truck. Or at least he thought he knew…

He had to shift the leaves on the tree branch aside to try and peer into the passenger's side window of the truck. He stomach fell. There was definitely a figure inside. He closed his eyes to try and compose himself but he was finding that it was getting harder to breathe, almost as if the entire world was pushing in on him with the intent to crush him. He had to see this through to the end though.

Darry reached up and pulled on the tree branch. It was still partially attached to the tree that the truck had hit. It took him several tries before he was able to pull the branch free and toss it down to the ground.

Slowly, he looked back at the now unobstructed truck. Sodapop sat in the driver's seat, eyes closed and not moving. He was half slumped over away from the tree the truck had collided with, his right arm reaching out toward the passenger's seat. Darry felt like the world was suddenly falling out from under him, leaving a void in its wake. This was his kid brother. What had any of them ever done to deserve this?

Then, something miraculous happened. As Darry was staring, Soda's head shifted. It was a very small movement that Darry may have imagined but it fueled a spark of hope. Was it possible Soda was still alive after being trapped in this ditch for over three days?

Darry tried the door to find that it was locked, but now his adrenaline was pumping. He had to get to his brother. Quickly, he slipped out of his jacket and put it up against the window. He wound up and punched the window through his jacket as hard as he possibly could. His fist bounced off without much effect. Without hesitating or comprehending the pain in his hand, he wound up and struck out at the window again. This time as his fist connected there was a satisfying cracking noise. On the third attempt the glass finally shattered away, with his jacket protecting his fist from any major damage from the shards of glass.

He tossed the jacket to the ground and reached through the emptied window to unlock the door. But as he pulled on the handle again, the door still wouldn't budge. He looked around confused and then saw that the frame of the truck had bent, which was causing the door to jam. As he yanked on the handle trying to pull it free, the truck shook. At the motion, Soda's head shifted again and Darry thought he saw his eye lids flutter briefly. This only fueled his desperation. He pulled hard on the handle and the emptied window and managed to inch the door outwards enough to get his hand through the gap. The metal groaned in protest as he inched it out little by little. The more progress he made the more strength he seemed to gain. Finally, he had made a gap wide enough for him to slip inside of the truck.

"Soda!" Darry cried desperately as he climbed up in to the passenger's seat.

He took in his little brother's condition. He was pale as a sheet and his eye lids were tinted an unnatural blue color. His lips were cracked and bloody. Darry tried to look for obvious signs injuries. As he got closer he noticed a stain of red on his chin. He reached over and carefully tilted Soda's head to get a better look at his face. He gave a visible start at what he found. The left side of Soda's face was stained with so much blood that Darry couldn't tell where it had come from.

"Soda… Sodapop… please wake up, little buddy… please…" Darry begged, his voice shaking with his barely contained hysterics. He couldn't be…

Soda's head shifted in Darry's cupped hands. Darry's heart jumped up into his throat at this sign of life. In what seemed like slow motion, his eyelids opened slightly and then slid closed again.

"C'mon, Soda," Darry encouraged, feeling hopeful for the first time in days.

Slowly, Soda's eyes opened again. They seemed to take a minute to really focus on him. "Darry?" His voice was hoarse and seemed to drag painfully out of his throat.

Darry coughed a laugh even though the situation was far from funny. "It's okay, it's okay now Soda. I'm here, I've gotcha. I'm gonna get you outta here."

"'M stuck, Dar," Soda moaned, sounding very young. His eyes kept on sliding passed him, as if he couldn't quite focus on what was right in front of him.

Darry wasn't sure what he meant by that. And then he looked down and his stomach dropped. It was suddenly painfully clear why Soda hadn't been able to get himself out of the truck after the crash. The steering wheel and dashboard had been shoved forward and downward by the disfigurement of the truck, pinning him solidly in place. From what Darry could see, Soda's jeans were stained with blood from where he had struggled to free himself.

Darry froze, unsure what to do. Should he leave and go get help? He didn't like the idea of just leaving Soda here. He suddenly wished that Steve was here; he'd be able to take care of this in minutes.

"Dar…" Soda murmured so quietly, it was barely more than a whisper on his exhaled breath as his head fell to one side and his eyes slid shut.

"No, no, no," Darry sputtered frantically, tightening his hold on Soda's chin. "Stay with me Soda. Please. Open your eyes. Sodapop?"

Soda's head shifted weakly in Darry's hands, though his eyes did not open again. Darry's heart was pounding as he realized that they were running out of time. He dropped his gaze to access the situation at hand. He reached out and put pressure on the mangled dash in an attempt to push it away from Soda. It didn't move, not even slightly. Darry took a breath, trying to control his rising panic as he tried to think of another way around this. He shifted around and looped a hand around Soda's opposite hip. As he put pressure on his brother in an attempt to slide him out from under the dashboard Soda suddenly gasped and moaned in pain and Darry immediately stopped.

"Sorry, sorry," Darry mumbled even though he wasn't real sure if Soda could hear him.

He took a moment to look over the situation again, but he knew there was only one thing that he could do. And he hated it with every fiber of his being.

"Sodapop, just hang in there okay?" Darry said gently. "Please."

He knew that if he lingered and said everything that was on his mind, he would never do what had to be done. He told himself that there would be time for more words later… and he did his best to actually believe that.

It was one of the hardest things he had ever done when he turned away from his injured brother. His entire body felt heavy with the weight of what was happening as he maneuvered his way back out of the truck. He felt an unnatural chill in the air as he sprinted back up to the road. And he felt sick to his stomach as he climbed into the car, shifted it into drive and drove away.

How he got home was a blur to him. He did know that he made record time though. Just over five minutes after he left his injured and possibly dying brother he was running up the front walk and bursting into the living room. Both Steve and Two-Bit looked up at him in surprise.

"Darry?" Steve said, looking at him strangely. Darry wondered vaguely if he looked as deranged as he felt.

He quickly scanned the living room. "Where's Pony?"

"He just went to take a leak," Two-Bit said as he stood up and approached Darry. "Darry, what's goin' on?"

Darry grabbed Two-Bit's shoulder with one hand – probably a bit harder than he had meant to, judging by his expression – and looked his friend in the eye. "Listen to me. Call an ambulance and send it to Route 66 between Norwood and Sheridan. Tell them there's been a car accident."

Two-Bit's eyes widened. "You found him," he said, shock in his voice.

Darry went on as if Two-Bit hadn't spoken. "Then I want you to take Pony and get yourselves to the hospital."

"But shouldn't we—"

"Under no circumstances are you to take Ponyboy up to Route 66, you understand me?" Darry snapped, his eyes burning with how deadly serious he was. Pony could not see what he had just seen. "You take him to the hospital and you wait with him there. If you so much as drive by Route 66, so help me I'll whip you within an inch of your life Two-Bit Matthews."

"Okay, okay," Two-Bit assured him, backing up out of his grip. There was something unsettled about this tone though. "I get it." He turned and went for the phone.

Darry shifted his gaze to Steve, who had stood up from the couch but seemed frozen in place as he had silently watched the exchange. "Steve, you're comin' with me," Darry stated. Then, without another word, he turned and hurried back out the door.

Without a backwards glance to make sure Steve was coming, Darry grabbed his toolbox from where it sat on the porch and jogged back down the walk to where he had left the car. As he opened the door to the backseat and tossed the toolbox in, he saw Steve hurrying around to climb into the passenger's seat. Darry felt relieved that he hadn't frozen. There was no time to waste and if he hadn't followed him then Darry wasn't going to wait for him.

Darry climbed into the driver's seat and a second later they were taking off. As he was speeding up the road, he stole a glance over at Steve. He was pale as he stared determinedly straight ahead, his mouth set in a thin line. Darry felt bad for having to put Soda's best friend through this, but he didn't have much of a choice. Steve was the best with cars and Darry knew that he had the best chance of being able to figure out how to free Soda.

They had been driving for several minutes before Steve finally spoke.

"How bad is it?" Steve's voice was flat and void of emotion. He didn't as much as glance in Darry's direction.

"It's bad," was all Darry could manage.

Finally, Steve looked over at him. At a glance, a person might think his eyes were hard and unfeeling. But Darry knew him well enough to know what kind of emotion that look hid. "Is he…"

"He's still alive," Darry supplied, not needing Steve to finish the question. At least he was when I left him, he couldn't help but add silently. He stepped down harder on the accelerator, the engine groaning with the effort of shifting up to the next gear.

Darry couldn't put into words how he found the right spot again. Even knowing what he was looking for this time, it was still hard to see the truck from the road. But somehow he just knew, pulling the car over to the side of the road before he recognized the skid marks and torn up grass.

Up until that point, Steve had seemed to be moving in slow motion. But as he spotted the truck, it was like he was emerging from a fog with an air of fierce determination. He was out of the car before Darry had even put it into park, skidding down into the ditch in his haste. Darry paused long enough to grab the toolbox out of the backseat before following.

By the time he made it down to the truck, Steve had already slid up into the cab, seeming to have an easier time of it than Darry had, as he was leaner and could better fit through the gap between the bent door and the rest of the truck.

"Soda? Sodapop?" Steve was desperately calling.

"Check his pulse," Darry told him as he hovered by the door, looking in through the empty window. Soda looked the same as when he had left him maybe ten minutes before, but it was unnerving how still he was.

He watched as Steve reached up and placed two fingers on the side of Soda's neck.

"He's alive," Steve said quietly, sounding a bit surprised.

"Can you figure out how to get him out of there?" Darry asked urgently, trying to focus them on the task at hand. "He's wedged in there really good."

Steve swallowed and the looked down. For a minute he didn't move or speak, just studied what was in front of him with a calculating look as Darry shifted impatiently from foot to foot.

"I need a flathead screwdriver and a wrench," Steve finally said, holding out his hand but not looking away from the mangled mess in front of him.

Darry put the toolbox down on the ground and quickly dug out the requested tools, handing them over to Steve through the empty window. With more concentration than Darry had ever seen from him, Steve went to work.

As he worked, Darry's eyes drifted back to Soda. He couldn't even imagine the pain he had gone through, trapped here like this for days. He had visibly lost weight, most noticeably in the way his cheekbones now protruded in a way they hadn't before.

He was quickly brought back to reality just a few minutes later as Steve handed him the now disconnected steering wheel through the window. Darry leaned over, trying to see what Steve was working on, but his body blocked what was going on in the small cab. A minute later he was handing pieces of the dashboard through the window. Clearly he was trying to strip away everything possible in an attempt to free Soda.

Then he did something strange. He turned and drove the screwdriver into the seat next to where Soda sat. Darry didn't dare question him as he tore away at the upholstery; clearly Steve was on a mission. It wasn't until he started yanking out fistfuls of the stuffing from inside of the seat that Darry realized what he was doing. Darry looked over top of him and was able to see that even after stripping away most of the plastic from the dashboard, there was still part of the metal frame pushing down on Soda's legs. Steve was trying to lower him down by removing what was underneath him rather than try and mess with the metal that was still pinning him down.

"Can you get the door open any further?" Steve said as he worked.

Darry immediately slid his body between the frame of the truck and the door. Pushing his back up against the frame for leverage, he used his arms and one of his knees to muscle the door further out, until the door was bent into a more open position.

He was only vaguely aware of the soft wail of sirens approaching from a distance.

"Okay, let's get 'im the hell outta here," Steve said tensely.

Relief washed over Darry. It had taken Steve less than five minutes to find a way to free Soda. Darry was convinced that was far faster than any paramedic would have been able to. He turned to take in the scene. At a glance, Soda still appeared to be unconscious. Darry couldn't find it in him to take in the rest of his condition. If he did, he knew that he would freeze and wouldn't be able to do what needed to be done.

Steve was climbing between Soda and the now disassembled dashboard to get a better angle. As he did this, Darry climbed up into the passenger's seat.

"Oh, shit," Steve mumbled.

Darry didn't have the willpower to try and figure out what Steve had seen. "C'mon," he urged. The scream of sirens was getting closer. "The ambulance is probably almost here."

That snapped Steve back into action. Working together, they began to slide Soda across the seat, closer to the open passenger's side door. In the process, Soda began to stir. At first, Darry felt relieved that Soda was showing some obvious evidence of life. He groaned lightly, like he was being awoken unwillingly from a deep sleep. His head rolled on his shoulders and his eyes fluttered.

Then, he screamed.

It was a blood-curdling, agonizing sound that seemed to come from deep within him. Darry felt a very strange sensation run though him at the sound, almost like all the blood pumping through his veins just suddenly stopped for a moment. Soda's eyes only half opened as all the air raged out of his lungs, and Darry wasn't quite sure if he was actually conscious or not. Then, as quickly as it had started, it stopped and Soda went slack again, falling limp.

"Take him. The ambulance is here."

Steve's words came to him slowly as if through a fog. Darry remembered taking Soda into his arms, but he didn't remember crossing the field or even how he got up out of the ditch with his seventeen year old brother cradled against his chest. The ambulance had pulled over to the side of the road by where they had left the car and the paramedics were just jumping down out of the vehicle.

"Please… please help him." The words came tumbling out of Darry's mouth seemingly of their own accord.

"Get a gurney!" someone called.

As it was rushed over to them, Darry went to place his broken brother down on the stretcher, but strangely he felt as if something was stuck on his shirt. He looked down, thinking something had gotten caught, only to find that amazingly, Soda's left hand was balled tightly in his blood stained t-shirt, gripping the fabric like a lifeline. Still leaning over the stretcher, Darry looked back up at Soda's face, but strangely he still appeared to be unconscious.

While Darry was still marveling about this, one of the paramedics reached for Soda's hand, seemingly intent on pulling it free of Darry's shirt. Before Darry could react though, Soda let out a low moan, his grip tightening. It was the first sign of life that he had seen from his brother since they had pulled him from the truck. The paramedic hesitated.

"Can I stay with him?" Darry asked, his voice hoarse.

The paramedic nodded. "Yes, you can ride in the ambulance with him. But we have to go now."

Somehow they managed to get him and Soda into the ambulance without having to break Soda's grip. As the ambulance took off, Darry was solely focused on his little brother, barely aware as the paramedics worked around him.

"You're a fighter, Soda," Darry murmured, leaning in close. He put a hand to Soda's hand, which was still gripping his t-shirt. "I know you are. Just hang in there. We're not ready to lose you yet."


Author's Note: Well? What did you think? Nine chapters later and I finally answered the big question! More explanation to come in the next chapter of how Soda actually ended up where he did. But in the meantime, please tell me what you think! Worth the wait?

Also, since I've been terrible about responding to reviews, I'd like to give special shout outs to Michelle Loves Chocolate 99, Pony-Edward-Lucas'Girl, FrankElza, Dal's Girl and Guest for reviewing the last chapter. I really appreciate it!