Disclaimer – I do not own the Outsiders.

Yay over a hundred reviews! Let's make the 150 mark shall we? XD

Oh and can you please check out my other stories (they're one shots). One is called 'How to save a life' and the other is 'Because I'm broken'.

…

Have you ever had that feeling that you really, really, really need a glass of water but start feeling sick to your stomach after two sips? Well that's what's happening to me now. I've been thirsty all night (well, technically morning now. I woke up at 4:36, it's now 5:58) and I didn't want to wake Sodapop up. So that's what I've been doing since 4:36 this morning. I've gotten up from my spot on the couch, grabbed a glass of water, dumped it out, and repeated the step all over again.

But my throat is so dry and I feel like I'm going to burst if I don't get any water soon! I just know that's going to happen again though, so it's all I could to wait for Sodapop to wake up. He might know what's going on.

I sat down again, my stomach flipping and groaning. I clutched at it and tried to ignore the stomach pains that usually came with the flu.

After about five minutes, a golden beam shone out from the darkened window. My sunrise! I realized, jumping up and sitting by the glass window.

It was like taking a leap back into the old times. So many, many times.

"Mom look at the sunrise!" I exclaimed, pointing a finger towards the golden sky. My mom sat next to me, smiling. Calling me her golden boy. I have no clue what it meant but I liked the sound of it.

"It's beautiful Ponyboy." She said, resting her head against my shoulder. The door opened and Darry came out, his football gear in the black bag in his hand. He was a senior in high school then.

"Hey Darry, look at the sunrise."

He did as I asked and smiled. "It's brighter than it usually is." Darry would know, Darry's always the first to wake up. I knew he secretly liked sunrises, but he would never let anyone in on it.

Then Sodapop did a flying leap out of the door, sprawling in front of Darry. Darry rolled his eyes and heaved Soda up by the shoulders.

"You aren't doing it right." Darry sighed, shaking his head. But I could see the small smile playing on his lips.

He had tried to teach Soda how to do a front-flip cartwheel, (which I mastered. I was so happy that Darry was proud of me for once) but Soda just kept on doing it wrong.

"You have to lift your torso, pretend you don't have feet. Your feet don't spring you up, your body weight does. Oh, and it would be better if there wasn't a door blocking the way." Darry said, laughing. Soda joined in, and soon we were all having a chuckle. Darry walked to stand behind me, and rested his arms on my shoulders. I was too tired to protest, Darry liked to use me as an armrest because he said I was short. But I'm getting taller! I'm just not there yet! I'm only 12. Soda's going to be fifteen soon. Darry's 18. He's going to go to college, already accepted. We're all proud of him.

Soda walked over and sat directly on my lap, I shoved him off, laughing. "You goofball!" I exclaimed. Darry was shaking his head, "you guys are nuts."

The door slammed open and dad walked out, sporting his usual lively grin. It was weird, Soda had dad's personality but looked nothing like him, he looked more like mom. And Darry had mom's personality but looked nothing like her, he was a spitting image of dad. I guess I'm just a mix. An in-between. I have no clue where I got my hair from, I think it has to do with the genes mixing and stuff.

"What's all the laughing about?" he asked.

"Sodapop." Mom supplied.

"Of course." Dad went over and ruffled Soda's hair. "Hey!" Soda pulled out a comb (from where, I have no clue, seeing as his pants don't have pockets in them. But that's Soda for you, always surprising) and started fixing his hair. Then Dad kissed mom, slapped Darry's back, and put a hand on my shoulder, ignoring that Darry's whole arm was currently enveloping me.

Now we were all watching the sunrise. It was perfect, just us. One big family. Watching the sunrise together. This had to be my most cherished memory. I still preferred sunset's though.

It's the only memory that we all watched the sunrise together, I realized. But we saw a few sunsets together.

The sunrise was ending now, and the sun was now high in the sky. I yawned, just as Soda came out of the door. His hair was all over the place, but it looked okay on him. Sodapop was one of the only few greasers who didn't need hairgrease to look tuff. Soda always looked tuff.

Then I noticed the whiteish-pink mark lacing his shoulder, and from my angle I could see it ran down his back.

"Soda!" I exclaimed. He jumped and looked at me, wide-eyed. "What?"

"Your back!"

He frowned, and involuntarily traced his fingers over the scar. Like he knew exactly what I was talking about. "I got it in 'Nam."

"What happened?" I asked, kind of intrigued. Soda never talked about what happened at war.

Soda gave me a bitter smile and said, "you really wanna know? It aint too pretty Ponyboy."

"I can take it." It's true. I could.

He nodded, seeming to agree with me, and sat down on the couch. He motioned for me to do the same. I yawned again and walked over to him, sitting down with a plop. Soda threw his arm over my shoulder and I let my head fall on his chest. The scar looked even brighter from my angle now.

"We were walking, just walking." He said, then his eyes closed, as though he were re-living the experience.

"We came across a village." I listened in silence, feeling Soda's hand tighten on my arm. It kind of hurt, but I didn't really mind it. I've had worse.

"Someone shot at us, and we thought it was coming from the village. So we charged in, and -." He cut off.

"And?" I prompted gently. I could tell he really needed to get this off his chest.

"We killed a few villagers. We thought they had been the ones that were shooting at us. Oh God, it was horrible. There were women and children dead." Tears were leaking out of his eyes, and I suddenly realized what Soda had gone through at war. While I had experienced physical agony at home, Soda was in mental agony because he kept blaming himself for every death. I know that's what would have happened, because that's Soda. He's too caring, he thinks everything is always his fault. Just like he did when I fell off of Darry and cut my arm on the glass table. It wasn't anyone's fault, I just slid off on accident. Soda only thought about how he had thrown the toy truck at Darry's head. He thought it was his fault. But we were just little kids, and even than Soda thought he was blameworthy.

"So, a few of us were up for burying them, but the squad leaders and some of the senior soldiers kept ushering us out, saying their own people would get to them, and that we needed to get the hell out of there before they came.

"But he was used to this stuff, he was 24 and had been in the army since he was 19. He didn't seem to remember that we were all scared, just kids. We never wanted any of this. When you think of war, you think of the people at home praying for their troops. But when we came home from war, it's all over TV about people burning the American flag and protesters.

"So anyway, he left us behind. He didn't do it on purpose, he thought we were right behind him. But Me, Josh, Chris, Michael, and Robert all stayed behind to bury them. Just as we were about to dig the graves more shots rang out, it killed Josh and Chris. Michael got shot in the leg, and me and Robert were surrounded by Vietnamese soldiers.

"They told us to drop our weapons, and we did. Then they told us to get on our knees and put our hands behind our head. I was going to but I was frozen to the spot, because behind the enemy was Michael, he was limping but he had a gun in his hand and was going to shoot them.

"Suddenly I felt a white-hot pain in my back, and I fell down. There was blood everywhere, and I didn't realize it was coming from me. They used some weird knife-thing on me, it hurt like hell. But it wasn't like any knife I had ever seen. It was shaped in an odd way, it was thick enough to brake a bone but thin enough to slide between a pair of ribs. They had cut open my back.

"I think they were going to take us prisoner. But Michael shot them all, and handed me and Robert a gun. So we managed to kill them all and get out of there. I just remember fainting and then waking up at our base. They did all these tests to see how far I could move my arm and stuff, and made me run around. Just to see if my wound was life-threatening I guess.

"When I finally pulled through, they said I was in fit condition to still serve until my time was up. So I tried my hardest after that."

I was silent, but tears were leaking out of my eyes too. Soda let out a half-hearted chuckle and squeezed my arm a little. "Don't cry Ponyboy, I'm here. That's all that matters."

"Yeah, I guess so. I'm so sorry Soda. If I had known – "

"Even if you had known, what were you gonna do about it?"

I was silent.

"Exactly."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop saying sorry."

"Oops, sorry!"

He looked at me, and we both laughed a little.

"You feelin okay?"

"N—yeah."

"No you aint."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You're pale." He (once again) slapped his hand to my forehead. I shrugged out of his grip.

"You're burnin up!" he exclaimed, then gave me a once-over. "You aint leavin bed today. Got it?"

"Yeah sure Soda."

"You need anything?"

"A glass of water…"

"Alright, go to bed. I'll get it for you."

…

Ahhh these chapters are sucking! Sorry people : /