Chapter Ten

Pony got to sleep in a bit that day. It was the beauty of not having classes until late in the morning. It was a relief too because as Soda's sleeping habits got worse, so did everyone else's. Even though Pony had heard Soda get sick the night before, he hadn't gone to him. He had wanted to, but they had all agreed that crowding Soda wouldn't help matters. So he lay awake in bed and let Darry go to him, finding it hard to fall back asleep.

By the time Pony got up in the morning it appeared he was the last one up. As he walked into the kitchen the only one who was there was Soda. He looked up from pushing eggs around his plate as Pony entered.

"'Mornin' Pony," he said.

Pony smiled at him. Every time Pony saw Soda he still couldn't help but feel a burst of happiness. It was still amazing that after all this time Soda had returned to them.

"Hey Soda," Pony said. He sat down at the table and Soda pushed over an extra plate of breakfast. "How'd you sleep?"

"Okay," Soda said with a shrug.

Pony nodded as he started on his own breakfast. "Did everyone leave already?" He was getting used to filling in the silence that Soda left with his monosyllabic responses.

Soda nodded. "Darry left a while ago. Steve left just a few minutes ago."

"Oh." It was still strange that even though Soda was home, he still wasn't going to work with Steve. It just seemed so natural that they should work together. But he didn't say anything about it. There was no need to push Soda on that.

Pony finished his breakfast and got up from the table, leaving Soda to continue picking at his eggs while he went to get ready for school. They had all noticed that since coming back Soda's appetite had remained concernedly small. None of them really knew what to do about it though. So for now they just left it alone. Pony just went about his business as he jumped in the shower to get cleaned up for school.

He was in his bedroom, freshly showered and dressed and now gathering up his things for class when he was suddenly startled by a loud crash coming from somewhere else in the house. He paused for a minute, wondering if maybe Soda dropped something. It had sounded a bit like glass shattering. He figured that Soda probably dropped another drinking glass or something of the like. He was a bit clumsy these days in a way he never had been before.

He turned back and started gathering up his books again, but then paused after another minute. It seemed awfully quiet all of a sudden. He felt like he should probably be able to hear Soda moving around and cleaning up after himself. Something just didn't seem right for some reason. Pony left his bag on the bed as he turned and headed out into the hallway.

"Soda?" he called as he moved through the empty living room. There was no answer. "Soda, you –" He cut himself off in shock as he walked into the kitchen. Soda was crouched down with his back to him. He had one hand up above him gripping the counter and he was hunched over on himself, all his muscles tensed. "Soda!" Pony practically shouted as he rushed to his brother's side, instincts taking over as he forgot that he was supposed to be careful around him. He was hardly aware of the glass crunching under his sneakers, remnants of a drinking glass that had been dropped.

Soda's face was screwed up in pain with his eyes squeezed shut and he was gasping for breath. His other hand was gripping the front of his shirt, the material bunched up in his fist. Pony searched frantically for some kind of injury, but he couldn't find one. He reached out and placed a hand on Soda's shoulder and at the touch Soda's eyes shot open.

"Soda, what is it? What's wrong?" Pony's voice was frantic and his eyes were wide with fear and shock.

"I… I dunno," Soda gasped, shaking his head. His expression was a painful display of helpless fear.

"What hurts?" Pony asked, desperate for some kind of indication as to what was wrong. He felt at a complete loss. Soda had seemed fine this morning.

"My… chest." Soda grimace hard.

"Hang on, I'm gonna call for help," Pony said quickly. Without waiting for a response Pony stood and practically sprinted for the phone hanging on the wall. He dialed 911.

"911, what's your emergency?" the dispatcher answered.

"There's somethin' wrong with my brother," Pony said, almost desperately.

"What's wrong?"

"I… I dunno, his chest hurts real bad and he's gasping for breath." Pony sent a panicked glance at Soda who seemed to be having even more trouble breathing.

"We'll send an ambulance. What's your address?"

Pony gave it to him quickly before he hung up, hurrying back to Soda's side and crouching down next to him. "It's okay, Soda," he tried to assure him, even though his voice shook. "Help's on the way, just hold on, okay?"

Soda groaned. He gasped loudly, his breathing suddenly taking on a wheezing quality. Pony was barely able to contain his panic. He continued to try and comfort his brother but he felt so helpless. Whatever was happening it only seemed to be getting worse. Suddenly Soda reached out and grabbed onto him. Ever since returning from Vietnam he had been distant, but all of a sudden he was grasping at Pony for comfort. Pony was a little too startled to react for a second. He quickly remembered himself though and grabbed Soda's hand, squeezing it comfortingly.

Finally Pony could hear the sirens of the ambulance approaching the house. The paramedics swarmed the kitchen and as they approached Pony could see the panic in Soda's eyes. They tried to get him to lay down but Soda resisted.

"It's okay, Soda," Pony tried. "They're gonna help you. No one's gonna hurt you, I promise."

Soda met Pony's eyes and squeezed his hand. He slowly allowed Pony to help him lay on the kitchen floor. Pony kept a hold of his hand as the paramedics began checking him over.

One of the paramedics turned to Pony, looking at him almost curiously. "Is he… all there?" he asked awkwardly, pointing to his own head.

Pony knew what he was asking. He wanted to know if Soda was mentally disabled or something. "He's a veteran," Pony said firmly, a hint of anger behind his voice even though there was no way the paramedic could have known that. Given his behavior it had been a perfectly valid conclusion. "He spent the last three and a half years in a prison camp in Vietnam."

This caused a start with each of the paramedics. Clearly they hadn't been expecting that. Luckily the shock didn't last long as they refocused on his brother. He was now covered in a thin sheen of sweat as he wheezed hard like he was barely getting enough air. It took everything Pony had not to start panicking. He had to stay calm for Soda.

Two of the paramedics ran out to the truck to get a stretcher. As they loaded him up onto the stretcher Soda's eyes were fixed straight ahead and a bit unfocused as if he wasn't really aware of what was going on. Pony stayed close to him and continued to try and comfort him even though he had stopped showing any indication that he had heard him. Pony climbed into the back of the ambulance with him and the moment they got him settled they took off, screaming in the direction of the hospital. As they drove they put an oxygen mask over Soda's nose and mouth.

They were about halfway to the hospital when Pony noticed something was wrong. Soda's grip on his hand tightened suddenly and then immediately went limp. Pony looked up at Soda's face to find that his eyes were close and all of his muscles which had been tight with anxiety had gone slack.

One of the paramedics reached up and placed two fingers on the side of Soda's neck. Soda – who had been jumpier than Johnny ever had since coming home – didn't so much as twitch. "No pulse," the paramedic said and Pony felt like that world had fallen out from under him. "Starting CPR."

It seemed that all the noises around him suddenly dulled, even the wailing siren. Everything was suddenly moving in slow motion as Pony numbly watched as the paramedics administered CPR to his brother who was not moving. No pulse. That meant his heart had stopped. Why had his heart stopped? It made no sense. Pony couldn't even begin to understand what was going on. After finally getting his brother back was he about to lose him for good this time?

"Please Soda," Pony found himself whispering, pleadingly. He was still holding onto Soda's hand and squeezed it lightly. "Please don't leave us. Not now, not after we just got you back. Please…."

The minutes dragged on and all Pony could do was stare. Finally the paramedic let out a sigh of relief as he felt Soda's neck. "I got a pulse, but it's weak."

Pony was only aware that they had arrived at the hospital when the back doors were flung open. There was a flurry of activity and it was all Pony could do to hang onto Soda's hand as they rushed him out of the ambulance and into the hospital's emergency room.

"I'm sorry, but you're going to have to wait here."

Pony stared at the nurse in front of him uncomprehendingly. She started to pull him away from Soda and Pony tightened his grip. "No, I have to stay with him."

"We'll take good care of him," the nurse said kindly, but Pony shook his head. She didn't understand. "I'm sorry, but you can't go with him," she went on as Pony still didn't move. Pony's grip had brought the group to a stop just outside a set of double doors. "We can't help him until you let go."

Against his will suddenly Soda's hand was out of his grip and he had disappeared through the double doors. Pony stared after him helplessly.

"I need to be there when he wakes up," Pony said desperately looking at the nurse that was still next to him. "He…" His voice trailed off and he struggled to put into words his brother's condition. "He's been in a prison camp in Vietnam for the past three and a half years. If he wakes up in a strange place he might panic." He is gonna wake up… right? Pony shook the thought from his head.

"We'll be sure to get you back to see him as soon as we can," the nurse assured him.

Pony nodded vaguely. He felt like he was watching the scene from a faraway place as the nurse led him back to the waiting room. After she left him he just stood in shock for several minutes. He blinked as he slowly became aware of himself again. He looked around the waiting room, realizing for the first time that he was here by himself. He felt like a little kid again. He didn't want to be here alone.

Quickly he moved over to the reception desk and was able to get a hold of a phone. He immediately called Darry's work and was able to get the number for the site he was at today. He hung up and immediately redialed. The line rang for several minutes and Pony could feel his stomach falling, worried that no one was going to answer. He was about to give up when Darry's site manager finally answered.

"Hi, Mr. Hubor, it's Ponyboy Curtis," Pony said quickly, the words tumbling from his mouth.

"Hello, Ponyboy," Mr. Hubor said. "You need to talk to Darrel?"

"Yes, please, it's an emergency."

Mr. Hubor must have been able to hear the urgency in his tone. "Okay, okay, hang on just a minute."

Pony chewed on his lip as he listened to the silence on the other end interrupted by the occasional banging sound coming from the work site.

"Pony?" Darry's voice was slightly frantic and he was a bit out of breath, like he had been running. Mr. Hubor must have told him it was an emergency. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Pony took in a shaky breath. "I'm fine but… I'm at the hospital."

"Is it Soda?" Darry asked.

"Yeah," Pony said. He noticed his hands were shaking. "He… I dunno, I dunno what's wrong with him Darry." He was dangerously close to tears. "Can… can you come?"

"Sit tight, I'll be there in ten minutes, kiddo." Then the line went dead.

Pony took in a breath as he slowly set the phone back down on the receiver. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He patted his pockets, but he had left his cigarettes in his bag at home. His knees felt weak as he turned and wandered through the waiting room, thankful to find a secluded corner away from everyone else. He sat down heavily and just stared blankly at nothing in particular.

All of a sudden Pony was aware that Darry was crouched in front on him with a hand on each of his shoulders. He blinked confusedly, unsure how much time had passed.

"Pony?" Darry was saying with an air of having already said his name several times. "Ponyboy? You okay?"

Pony took in a shaky breath and opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. He was slightly horrified to realize that tears were slipping down his cheeks. He didn't cry in public. He impatiently wiped the tears away, though that was hard to do with his hands trembling so much.

It was clear that Darry was trying hard to be patient, but couldn't wait any longer. "C'mon, Pony, you gotta tell me what's goin' on," he said, almost desperately.

Pony swallowed hard, fighting desperately for some sort of composure. "I… dunno what happened," he said quietly. "He like… collapsed or somethin'. He was gasping for breath and he said his chest hurt." He paused and looked down for a minute. Then he looked back up and met Darry's eyes again. "Darry… in the ambulance… his heart stopped." Darry gave a start and sucked in a breath as if someone had sucker punched him. "They did CPR and got it goin' again," he amended quickly, realizing how that sounded.

"Okay," Darry said. His voice was even though Pony could see the edge of panic behind his eyes. "Wait here."

Pony watched as Darry hurried over to the reception desk. He spoke with a nurse for several minutes before he came back.

"Well?" Pony asked carefully as Darry took the seat next to him.

"They're still doin' tests," he said flatly. "She said the doctor would come talk to us when they find somethin' out." Pony nodded, not feeling comforted. "Did you call Steve or Two-Bit yet?" Pony silently shook his head. Darry sighed. "Maybe that's for the best. We'll find out what's wrong before we call them."

Pony knew that Darry was thinking about Steve. He was so protective over Soda lately they feared how he would take this new complication. He had been through a lot himself. At least if they waited they would be able to give him more information about what actually happened.

The time dragged on. Pony counted floor tiles for a while in order to pass the time before leaning back in his chair and switching to counting ceiling tiles. He couldn't stop fidgeting, the need for a cigarette burning away inside him. There was a small store just across the street, but he didn't dare move from his seat. He wanted to know the moment that there was news about Soda.

"Family of Sodapop Curtis?"

Pony's eyes shot up, focusing on the man in the lab coat standing on the other side of the waiting room. Darry stood up, but Pony couldn't find the will to lift himself up. The doctor immediately walked over to them.

"You are the family of Sodapop Curtis?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm his brother, Darrel Curtis."

"Would you come with me?" The statement sounded really ominous coming from the doctor. Pony and Darry exchanged uneasy glances. Slowly Pony pulled himself up to his feet. He felt numb as he shuffled along. Was this really happening right now? They made their way down a labyrinth of hallways, until Pony had no idea where they were or how to get back. Finally they stopped just outside a door. The doctor turned and regarded the two of them. "My name is Dr. Tally."

"Is Soda okay?" Darry asked quickly.

"He is resting for now." Pony let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "We are waiting for some test results, but what it looks like right now is that he had a heart attack."

There were several long seconds of silence as Darry and Pony could only stare in shock as they tried to absorb this. "But… he's twenty-two," Darry finally said, as if that proved the doctor wrong.

"It is uncommon for someone so young to have heart problems like this," the doctor said. "But in this case I believe there was some sort of trauma that may have caused damage to his heart."

"Trauma?" Pony asked, finding his voice.

"I don't suppose you know how he got those burn marks on his chest," the doctor said slowly, looking at them carefully.

Pony gave a start. He knew nothing about any burn marks on Soda's chest. Then again he realized he hadn't seen him without a shirt since he returned.

Darry however didn't look surprised at this. "He's been in a Vietnam prison camp for the past three and a half years," Darry said flatly. "He only came home about a week ago. We don't know much about what happened to him there."

The doctor nodded. "I was told that. That also explains his behavior."

"His behavior?" Pony sputtered. "Was he awake?"

"He had a panic attack when he woke," the doctor said calmly. A little too calmly in Pony's opinion. "We gave him something to help him calm down. Stress is only going to worsen his condition."

Pony felt a spark of anger. "I told a nurse when we got here that I needed to be there when he woke up so that he wouldn't panic."

"The situation has been handled," the doctor said, looking over at Pony coolly. In that instant Pony decided that he did not like his man at all.

"So what now," Darry said, bringing the focus back to Soda's condition, though Pony could see a hardened edge in his expression.

"We managed to stabilize him," the doctor said, shifting his gaze back to Darry. "We need to wait for his test results to see how much damage was done to his heart and then we will be able to determine whether he needs surgery or if medication will suffice."

Darry nodded. "Can we see him?"

"He's right in there," the doctor said nodding at the door behind them.

Pony turned away from the man and immediately hurried into the room. He spotted Soda laying in a hospital bed, his eyes closed and his hands resting down at his sides. A blanket was pulled up over his chest and for a moment he looked almost peaceful, as if he were sleeping. An oxygen mask still covered his nose and mouth. There were a few wires that disappeared under his hospital gown that were hooked up to a heart monitor. The machine was beeping steadily.

As Pony approached the bed Soda seemed to sense him as he shifted his head and his eyes blinked open. He looked groggy but there was still a strange tension to him that Pony couldn't quite understand. He figured that whatever they had given him to calm him down would have relaxed him as well, but despite his tired appearance he still had a distressed look in his eyes.

"Hey, Soda," Pony said gently as he approached the bed. Soda mumbled something under the mask but Pony couldn't quite make out what it was. "It's okay," he tried to assure him. "You're okay now."

Pony noticed Soda shifting his arms, slowly lifting one of his hands up toward him. Pony started to reach for his hand but when Soda's stopped very abruptly so did Pony's as he stared in horror. There was a cuff around Soda's wrist that was attached to the side of the bed, restricting his movement. As Pony looked across he saw that his other hand was restrained in the same way. He looked over at Darry who was now standing on the other side of the bed. He was studying the padded cuffs as well, looking surprised.

"Why is he restrained?" Darry demanded, turning to look at Dr. Tally who still stood in the doorway.

"The episode he had caused some concern among the staff," Dr. Tally explained calmly. "We suspected he may be dangerous considering where he was and so we took a precaution for the safety of our staff."

"He ain't dangerous," Pony said angrily, appalled that anyone could ever think such a thing about his brother. He reached down and quickly pulled the Velcro strap off the cuff, sliding Soda's wrist free. On the other side of the bed Darry did the same thing. Soda's features immediately seemed to relax as he carefully flexed his hands. He may have been doped up on some kind of medication, but it was clear he had still understood his restraints and what they had meant.

Dr. Tally left and Pony was grateful to see him go. Darry and Pony settled themselves into chairs on either side of Soda's hospital bed. The tension in his muscles had eased some as they watched him slowly drift off to sleep.

"I can't believe they thought he was dangerous," Pony fumed, though he kept his voice down so as not to disturb Soda. "I mean sure he's been pretty withdrawn since he came back, but not aggressive. He actually goes out of his way to stay away from people."

Darry sighed heavily. "I know. I think people just aren't sure what to make of this situation yet. I mean there's all this prejudice against the soldiers. I guess it's not much different in their mind."

"Soda's hardly a solider anyway," Pony pointed out. "He only fought for six months before he was captured. And he was only there 'cause he was drafted. He didn't want to be there."

"You know that doesn't matter," Darry said tiredly.

Pony glared at him, even though he knew that he was right. He had seen all the protests for the Vietnam War over the past couple years. He had seen how the soldiers had been treated after they had come home.

Pony sighed, feeling exhausted. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the edge of Soda's hospital bed as he looked over at his sleeping brother. Despite his relaxed features due to his drug induced sleep, he still didn't appear completely peaceful. It was unnerving. The worst of this was supposed to be over. The fear of losing Soda for good was supposed to have passed. Now was supposed to be a time of healing… not just for Soda but for all of them. But as usual, it was never a smooth road for the Greasers. And as usual they would simply have to endure whatever life decided to throw at them. Pony could only hope that when all was said and done he'd still have his family intact.