Disclaimer: In addition to not owning The Outsiders, I also don't own The Lord of the Rings. If I did, I'd be filthy rich.

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On Wednesday I could barely keep my eyes open at school. I hadn't slept well again the night before. I kept tossin' and turnin', trying to find a comfortable position without Soda beside me. My classes seemed to drag on forever, each one longer than the last. My teachers never called on me, thankfully. I think they felt sorry for me, which I hated, but at least it meant they were takin' it easy on me. I met up with Steve and Two-Bit in the cafeteria at lunch. We used to hang out at a store or parking lot, but I was trying to save money by bringing a lunch from home. They were good guys and didn't complain about being stuck at school.

I'd gotten an idea yesterday when Soda had complained about being bored and I was excited to tell Steve and Two-Bit about it. I would need their help if I was gonna pull it off. "Hey guys," I said, joining them at a table in the corner. "I got an idea to cheer Soda up once he gets home, but I need your help." I turned to Two-Bit. "Especially yours. It's kinda expensive and I was hopin' you could lift some stuff for me."

"Sure thing, kid," Two-Bit answered. "What'd ya have in mind?"

As I told them what I had planned, a smile started to spread across Steve's face. "Ya know, kid, I don't give ya enough credit sometimes. Soda's gonna love it."

I grinned, surprised by the rare compliment and glad to have his support. "Ya think?"

"Absolutely. What can I do to help?"

"Could you drive me home every day at lunch so I can work on it? It's gonna take a lot of time and I want to make sure it's done by the time he gets home."

"No problem," Steve agreed. "Is Superman okay with this?"

I nodded. "I told him about it this morning and he's on board. Two-Bit, will you be able to get what I need? I know it's a lot and it's not really easy to lift…" Two-Bit might be a master thief, but what I was askin' for didn't really fit too well under a jacket.

He rubbed his hands together and grinned roguishly. "It'll be a challenge, but I'm up for it."

"Great. Thanks guys," I said appreciatively. "But I wanna keep this a secret. Don't even tell Soda that anything's up at all. I want it to be a total surprise."

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By the time Saturday afternoon came, I was exhausted. I had worked till nine on Thursday and Friday night and dropped by to see Soda afterwards. I'd been tempted to sleep in this morning, but we'd found that Soda usually felt pretty good in the mornings and afternoons, so I wanted to spend time with him while he could enjoy it. Evenings varied; for the past three nights Soda's reaction to his treatment had been less severe, which was a relief after Tuesday. He'd been miserable for hours that night, and I hated to see him like that.

Two-Bit and Steve had each taken a turn the past couple nights staying with Pony and Soda till I was done work. They'd both seemed pretty shaken up after witnessing the effects of the chemo, even in their milder form. I couldn't blame them; it was horrible to watch someone you loved suffer through nausea and headaches, especially when those headaches exploded. Dr. Sheldon had started to teach us how to administer Soda's pain meds so that we'd be able to do it ourselves once he was home. Using sugar solutions, we practiced inserting needles into each other—never in Soda—and we were all getting better at it.

Pony had spent all his spare time at home working on his surprise for Soda. Somehow, he was able to study for his exams at the same time; I didn't believe him until a pop quiz showed he really did know his stuff. I'd been impressed when he'd presented his idea to me; it was ambitious, but if he pulled it off, and I was sure he would, I knew it would cheer Soda up. He was gonna be stuck at home a lot and we needed to do anything we could to make him feel less trapped.

When the end of the day finally came and I arrived at Soda's room, Steve and Two-Bit were just gettin' up to leave. Steve had switched his shifts around so he could balance out his schedule with mine, staggering the times we were able to visit Soda. Two-Bit, I was pretty sure, was on his way to lift more supplies for Pony's project. I generally didn't approve of his stealing, but we never could've afforded to get the stuff legally, so I was grateful for his talents.

"Hey everyone," I greeted as I sat down in Steve's recently vacated chair. "How was today?" I asked Soda.

"It was good," he answered. "We went outside to the courtyard. It's a lot better than being stuck in here." He glowered at the plain white room.

I glanced at Steve, concerned that Soda might have pushed himself. He'd been real tired after going outside Tuesday. "Don't worry, Darry," Steve assured me. "We used a wheelchair and took it real easy."

Soda rolled his eyes at us. "Glory. I'm not made of glass," he grumbled.

Steve shot him a look. "We're just lookin' out for ya, buddy. Get used to it."

Soda turned serious. "I know," he said quietly. "Thanks. I really do appreciate it, even when I complain."

We were all quiet for a few seconds until Two-Bit broke the silence. "Well, ol' Stevie and I'd better get goin' or he's gonna get himself fired. Darry, you and Pony sleep in a bit tomorrow. I'll drop by here in the mornin'."

"It's okay, Two-Bit, ya don't have to—" Soda started.

"It's fine, Sodapop. I want to. I gotta drop Magan off at her friend's house, anyway."

I'm not sure if Soda believed him or not, but he didn't argue anymore. I knew he wanted the company and had only protested cause he felt guilty about all the time we were spendin' in the hospital.

The guys left just as Dr. Sheldon arrived, and he nodded at them as they passed. "Hello, Soda. Your morning was good again?" he asked, reading over his chart.

"Yeah, that seems to be the best time," Soda replied.

"Good. That will give your body a chance to recover each day. How's your appetite? I see you've been eating some—not as much as I'd like, but not bad.

Soda grimaced. "I'm really not that hungry. The food isn't that great, either. No offence," he added quickly.

Dr. Sheldon chucked. "None taken. I know hospital food leaves a lot to be desired. For now your food intake is adequate, but try to increase it when you go home, especially during the time you're off treatment." He set about getting the chemo drugs ready, then went to Soda's side. Pony and I followed our normal routine and held Soda's hand as the needle went into his arm. He seemed to be getting more used to the needles, but I wondered sometimes if he was just getting better at covering up his fear.

Once Dr. Sheldon had finished up and left the room, Pony pulled out a copy of The Lord of the Rings. He'd been reading it to Soda to help pass the time and to distract him. I'd never been much of a reader—I'd always been better at math and science than English—but I had to admit I was enjoying the story. It reminded me of our own lives; sometimes what we were facing seemed just as impossible as Frodo's own task.

Pony had only been reading for a half hour when Soda's face started to pale. He turned onto his side and curled into himself, holding his stomach. "It's okay, Soda," Pony soothed, rubbing our brother's back. "Let it out. You'll feel better." I doubt Soda was naïve enough to believe him, but he leaned over and got sick anyway. After a few minutes whatever had been left of the gross hospital food he'd forced himself to eat was no longer in his stomach. He lay back on the bed and groaned. "At least it's out of ya now," Pony said, trying to sound encouraging.

"Yeah, but I don't feel any better," Soda sighed, still holding his stomach. "This just means there's nothin' left to get rid of. It doesn't help."

Sure enough, it wasn't long before he was leaning over again, his body convulsing as it went through the motions of getting sick, even though nothing was coming up anymore. We spent the rest of the evening like that, Pony and me taking turns holding a container for Soda to lean over, just in case he managed to cough anything up. I was startin' to get worried that this was lasting so much longer than it had on Tuesday, the last time he'd had a bad night. I was beginnin' to realize that the side effects of chemotherapy were unpredictable; there were nights when Soda was able to manage without too much trouble, and then there was tonight. My thoughts of unpredictability were proved true as Soda started to have another episode of breakthrough pain.

"Darry," Soda moaned, gripping my hand tight. "Get the nurse." He curled further into himself and Pony and I both immediately knew what was happening; as much as we hated these episodes, they were becoming routine. I reached for the call button and pressed it, hoping someone got here quickly. I decided that Pony and I would have to start doing this ourselves so that we wouldn't have to wait for someone else to get to the room. Not tonight, though; I was too tired to deal with anything new. As a nurse came in and gave him his pain meds, Soda continued to hold our hands in a fierce grip. He let out a small whimper and I knew his head must hurt worse than usual. I don't think Soda had ever whimpered in his life. I'm sure it didn't help that he felt like crap otherwise, too.

"It's okay, little buddy," I whispered, hoping my voice wasn't gonna make his head hurt worse. "The medicine will start workin' in a minute and you'll feel better." It was one of the longest minutes of my life. I sighed in relief as I felt Soda's grip on my hand loosen, indicating that the worst of the pain was passing. It seemed our night wasn't over, though; it was only a few minutes before Soda was leaning over the side of the bed again.

Near midnight, Dr. Sheldon came back into the room. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to get here earlier," he apologized. "I was held up with another patient. The nurse on duty told me he's been sick like this all night." He glanced at Soda, who was still curled up on his side. His eyes were closed, and he was resting for the moment, but he was awake. He hadn't been able to get to sleep all night.

"Is there something wrong?" Pony asked. "Is there a reason he's so much worse tonight?"

"All cancer patients have good and bad days," Dr. Sheldon said. "This is probably just one of his bad days. I'm going to keep a close eye on him, though, to make sure it's not a sign that his body is being weakened by an infection." He turned back to Soda. "Soda, are you having any other symptoms? Any dizziness or other pains?"

"Yeah," Soda started, and I immediately snapped my gaze over to him. He hadn't told us about anything else being wrong. "The room spins when I open my eyes," he admitted.

"Soda, you should've told me," I admonished softly. I didn't want him to keep anything from me, even if he was trying to protect us.

"Sorry, Dare," he said, opening his eyes to look at me, then quickly closing them again.

Dr. Sheldon took Soda's blood pressure and wrote on his chart. "Soda, how long have you been dizzy?"

"I dunno. Maybe ten minutes."

"Alright. Your blood pressure is low at the moment. It should come up soon." He started talking to me and Pony again. "I'll be back in an hour to check his blood pressure and see how he's doing."

Once we were alone again, Soda rested fitfully. He shifted around a lot, I guess trying to find a position that made him feel less sick. Pony was starting to look like he might nod off any minute and I'm sure I wasn't looking much different, but neither of us left Soda's side. By the time Dr. Sheldon came back at 1:00 I was havin' a lot of trouble keeping my eyes open. He took Soda's blood pressure, then smiled and wrote on his chart again. "His pressure is back up. Soda, are you still dizzy?"

Soda opened his eyes to check the stability of the room and I saw with concern that they were hazy. "No, I'm not dizzy. Just tired," he said, closing his eyes again.

I put my hand to his forehead and had my suspicions confirmed. "Doctor, he's got a fever."

Dr. Sheldon checked Soda's temperature and frowned. "It might just be a side effect of the chemo, but I'll have to do a blood test to be sure. It'll take a bit to get the results back, so just to be safe, Soda, I'm going to start you on antibiotics right away. I'm sorry, but since you've been vomiting all night I'm going to have to administer them via an IV."

Soda's eyes snapped open and he looked at me, panicked. "No, Dare, I don't want an IV. Please, let me try the pills. I'll keep them down, I promise."

I looked at Dr. Sheldon, who shook his head. "Sorry, Soda," I said gently. "We have to use an IV. You haven't been keepin' anything down all night and we need to get the medicine into you right away."

"Please, Dare," he begged, "I don't want an IV. There's gotta be something else they can do." He sounded so desperate and his eyes were so full of fear that I wanted to give in to him, but I knew I had to be strong, for his sake.

"It'll be okay, Pepsi-Cola," I said, trying to soothe him. "Pony and I will be right here the whole time." I nodded at Dr. Sheldon, who left to get the equipment he needed. "It'll be okay," I repeated. I half climbed onto his bed and held him in my arms, rubbing his back. He buried his head in my chest, asking over and over for me to find another way. I had the answer to my earlier question: Soda had only been pretending to get over his fear of needles. As Dr. Sheldon came back and got ready to insert the IV, I glanced at Ponyboy. His own eyes were filled with tears as he watched Soda cry.

Dr. Sheldon came around to our side of the bed and gently took Soda's hand in his. "It'll only hurt for a minute, Soda. Try and relax." Soda just cried harder as the IV was placed into his hand and securely taped. If he'd been calm to begin with he might have been able to deal with it, but he was already exhausted and simply couldn't handle any more stress.

I continued to hold Soda as the blood sample was taken, whispering to him that it would be okay. Pony sat on the edge of the bed and held his hand, being careful of the IV tube that was now there. It took Soda a while, but eventually he calmed down. He was quiet for a few minutes and I thought he'd finally fallen asleep until we heard him start talking. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, his words muffled by my shirt. He pulled back a bit and looked at each of us. His eyes were red and his cheeks were stained with tears. "I didn't mean to get so worked up. I know it's stupid…" He trailed off and I saw a few more tears run down his face.

"Shh," I whispered. "It's okay. You don't need to be sorry. It's just us here, me and Pone."

"Yeah, Soda," Pony insisted. "You don't need to pretend with us." Soda nodded and relaxed his head back onto my chest. We stayed that way until his nausea hit again and we were forced to move. The sun was starting to show through the blinds by the time his symptoms finally settled down and he was able to fall asleep. Pony rested his head on the edge of the bed and quickly joined Soda in slumber, but I forced myself to stay awake and watch over my brother, making sure that, for the time being at least, nothing else went wrong.

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Please leave a review! I'm curious if anyone can guess what Pony's surprise is, though I tried to keep it mysterious for now.