Sorry once again for the delay in updating! I know I sound like a broken record, but I really do mean it.

Kudos to anyone who realized what the date is in the story. If you didn't catch it, you'll find out. Also, as a quick note for anyone who doesn't know, a "Dear John" letter is a note from a girlfriend/wife that she's started seeing another guy.

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All these mixed emotions we keep locked away like stolen pearls

Stolen pearl devotions we keep locked away from all the world

~~Savage Garden—Tears of Pearls

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"So, how's it feel to be back?" Two-Bit slapped me on the shoulder and I grinned.

"It feels amazing," I laughed.

It was a relief to have finally arrived at our destination. The trip back had been rocky; Soda had been on edge the whole way, first from the restraints on the flight and then from more doctors' exams when we'd landed. I'd managed to get him to sleep some on the drive to Tulsa, but not much. I hoped he'd feel better now that he was settled in one place and had his brothers with him.

Two-Bit waited with me while I got a final checkup and signed my discharge papers. We'd agreed to give Soda some time alone with Darry and Pony, so we headed to the bus stop. He'd caught a ride with the Curtis' and I'd sold my car before I'd left. It had seemed like a better idea to have the cash if I wanted it and I didn't entirely trust my dad not to sell it behind my back. As we waited in the below freezing temperatures, I decided that getting a new set of wheels was at the top of my To Do list.

When the bus came, I held onto my crutches getting on and winced as I put most of my weight on my injured leg. The crutches were too awkward to use on the bus stairs, though, and the slush covering the ground didn't make that idea any more enticing than it already was. When I pulled the string for my stop, Two-Bit gave me a wide grin. "Have fun, Stevie!"

I rolled my eyes and smacked him on the back of the head, but I barely cared about his comment. I was much more interested in where I was headed. The bus stop was thankfully right in front of the apartment building I wanted and I made my way inside as quickly as I could. Evie's apartment was on the first floor, right near the front. She'd moved there right after we'd finished high school. Ever since I'd known her she'd had horrible fights with her parents over everything from dating me, to household chores. As soon as she'd moved out, the fighting had gotten better. I couldn't help but wonder if I could solve my own home problems the same way.

I brushed the thought aside and knocked on her door, suddenly growing nervous. Two-Bit had said she'd been waiting for me, but what if she'd moved on and he just didn't know about it? She'd sure sounded excited on the phone, but that wasn't a guarantee. I'd seen more than one guy in 'Nam get a Dear John letter and I'd always dreaded that I'd be next.

I heard footsteps and I took a deep breath. It was a good thing I did—the second the door opened my air supply was cut off. I'd barely managed to register that it was Evie who opened the door before her arms were around me and her lips were pressed against mine. For a minute, everything I'd been worried about vanished. The crutches fell from my as I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer. I ran my fingers through her hair, relishing in its softness. Breaking off the kiss, I buried my face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. Lilies. It hadn't changed.

"Thank God you're home, Steve," she whispered. We stayed that way for a few minutes, just enjoying being together again, before she pulled away and took a good look at me. "Steve, your leg—"

I gently put my finger on her lips, then pulled her close again for another deeper, slower kiss. She didn't try to ask about my leg again. Instead, she moved back a few steps, leading me into the apartment and shutting the door behind us.

~_~_~_~_~_~

I felt peaceful for the first time in months. Groggy, but peaceful. I wasn't sure why and for the moment I didn't care; I just savored it. Gradually the drowsiness started to wear off and I remembered why I felt so good. I was home. Finally.

I fought the pain meds that were trying to pull me back under and opened my eyes, smiling when I saw Ponyboy sitting on the window ledge. He was staring blankly outside; behind him I could see the last rays of sunlight disappearing and I realized I must've slept the entire afternoon. The flight back had been more exhausting than I'd expected and the ambulance drive after we'd landed for the final time hadn't helped. My ribs were healing, but bumping along the highway for hours was an experience I wasn't eager to repeat.

I shifted in the bed, trying to sit more upright. The movement got Pony's attention and he quickly jumped down from the ledge and came over to help. "I'm fine Pony," I assured him as I got myself settled. He looked skeptical and I tried again. "Really. The meds help a lot." I indicated the IV sticking into my hand. I'd been starting on oral pain meds before we'd flown out, but after being tensed up and jostled around for hours on end I'd gratefully accepted the stronger meds offered by the hospital staff.

Pony still seemed unsure, but he pulled back some, hovering next to the bed and looking nervous. "How are you?" he asked somewhat tentatively. It was obvious he had no idea how to act—how much space he should or shouldn't give me. I wasn't even quite sure myself. For months I'd wanted nothing more than to be able to have the comfort of my brothers, but now that I had them…

"I'm better, now that I'm home," I answered, offering him a small smile. He tried to return it, but it faltered. I saw him glance at the marks on my arms and I nervously brought my hands to my lap. The movement just drew his attention to my scarred wrists and I heard him draw in a sharp breath. He reached his hand out towards mine, but stopped halfway and quickly drew it back.

"Sorry," he whispered, head down and eyes glued to the floor. I wasn't sure if he was apologizing for trying to take my hand in the first place or for stopping halfway.

I fiddled with the hospital blanket. I wanted to take Pony's hand, but everything was so strange and awkward. A horrible silence filled the room until I finally couldn't take it anymore. Pony was my brother for God's sake! I shouldn't feel nervous around him.

Summoning my courage, I slowly reached my hand out towards his. He glanced up, giving me a brief, almost timid smile before wrapping his hand around mine.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

I assumed he was asking about the cuts on my arms and wrists and I shook my head. "It doesn't matter," I said. I didn't want to think about the restraints that had sliced into my skin for hours at a time. I didn't want to remember the endless hours of pain, or the mind numbing fear that I'd never make it home.

Pony looked like he wanted to ask something else, but we were interrupted by the sound of the door quietly opening. Darry walked in carrying a cafeteria tray with some sandwiches and drinks on it. "Hey, you're awake," he said, smiling when he saw me.

I nodded. I suddenly felt a bit guilty for sleeping for so long. I hadn't seen Darry or Pony in months, and here they came to the hospital to welcome me home and I couldn't even stay awake for them. Darry didn't seem to notice anything, though. He tossed Ponyboy a sandwich, who looked at the label and made a face.

"Sorry, kiddo. It's all they had," Darry apologized, setting the tray down on the window ledge and taking a seat next to Pony.

I peered over towards Pony, who tilted the sandwich so I could read the label. As soon as I saw it, I burst into laughter. It was the first time I could remember laughing in a long time. My ribs gave a sharp pain of protest and I immediately sobered, but it felt good to have had that one lighthearted moment.

"You okay?" Darry asked, starting to stand up, but stopping half way. I'd brought my arm up to my ribs, but I lowered it now, trying to mask the pain.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied. I was used to the pain by now and I didn't want it to ruin the amusement I'd felt a minute before. I smirked at Pony. "Only you'd get stuck with a baloney sandwich as your only option," I told him, earning a mock glare.

"The nurse said someone would be by with your food, soon," Darry said, turning to me. His eyes darkened some. I knew my weight was still way too low and I tried not to picture what he saw when he looked at me.

I started fiddling with the blanket again as silence filled the room. I figured I could ask how school and work were going, but the questions seemed so trivial. It wasn't that I didn't want to know, but they seemed like the kind of questions you asked after you'd been on vacation for a couple of weeks. As the silence stretched on, I realized there was only one thing I wanted to say.

"I missed you." I only whispered the words, but that didn't matter. Darry reached over and grabbed my hand, closely followed by Pony.

"We missed you too, Pepsi," Darry whispered back. The silence was comfortable now and we stayed that way until the nurse came with a tray of food for me. She set it down on a table that came partially over my bed and immediately left.

I took one look at the food and almost gagged on the spot. There was a dish of pudding and some apple juice, both of which were harmless enough, but sitting in the middle of the tray was a bowl of chicken and rice soup. The broth was bad enough, but the sight of the grains of rice floating in it made me want to hurl. My stomach churned and I brought a hand up to my mouth in an effort to will down the rising bile. Just looking at the tray, I could taste the mould that had routinely covered the food the guards had given me. I never wanted to even see, much less eat rice again in my life; I wasn't too wild about the idea of broth soup, either.

Before my stomach had a chance to fully rebel, Pony leaned over and grabbed the bowl of soup, replacing it with his still uneaten sandwich. I looked over to him questioningly, but he just shrugged. "I still don't like baloney," was all he said, and I knew he understood why I didn't want to eat the soup.

"Thanks," I said quietly, slowly unwrapping the sandwich. Darry had watched the exchange with worry in his eyes, but he stayed silent. Pony and I were both eating, and I guess he figured it didn't make a difference who was eating what. That didn't stop him from watching me carefully, though. I kept my eyes fixed on the tray of food, but I could feel him studying me. As happy as I was to be home, I had a bad feeling that things weren't going to be as easy as I wanted them to be.

Darry took a few bites of his sandwich, then seemed to decide that the silence had gone on long enough. "The doctor said you could come home in a few days," he announced. I looked up to find him still watching me. I was still shaken from when the food had been brought in, but I smiled anyway. I may have been back in Tulsa, but it was still a hospital and I couldn't wait to actually be back home.

"Did they give you a date?" I asked.

"Probably Friday." Today was Monday. I could live with another four days here. Suddenly, realization dawned on me. I looked at Darry, half in shock, half in guilt. "What's wrong, Soda?" he asked, frowning.

I already felt bad that he and Pony had to spend their day in the hospital, but now I felt really horrible. "Happy Birthday, Darry," I offered weakly, trying to muster as much enthusiasm as I could through the guilt.

He broke into a smile, obviously relieved that there wasn't a real problem. "Thanks, little buddy."

"You shouldn't be stuck here," I said quietly, looking down at my lap. "You guys should go out and celebrate."

I felt a hand close around mine and I looked up to find Darry staring at me, his face completely serious. "We are celebrating." Pony smiled his agreement, and I nodded, letting the subject drop. I wasn't ready for them to leave yet and if they said they were happy here, I wasn't going to push them out the door.

Apparently, though, I wasn't the only one who thought Darry should be celebrating. It wasn't more than a few seconds later that Steve poked his head in. When he saw I was awake, he nodded to someone outside the door, and a second later Two-Bit burst into the room, a big cardboard box held in his hands. "Happy Birthday, Darry!" he practically shouted, earning a glare from Darry and a laugh from Ponyboy.

"Would ya keep it down, Two-Bit?" Darry hissed. "They're gonna kick us outta here if you keep making that kind of racket!"

Two-Bit, as always, was completely unfazed. He ignored Darry, instead breaking into a very off key chorus of "Happy Birthday." As he sang, Steve shuffled in on his crutches, followed by an uncertain looking Evie, who was carrying a paper bag. Evie and I had never really been great friends; we got along fine, but we mainly knew each other through Steve.

When Two-Bit had finished his terrible rendition of the song, Evie took paper plates and plastic forks out of the bag she was holding. Darry took the cake from Two-Bit and starting handing out pieces. He was shaking his head at the antics, but he couldn't completely hide his laughter. When he handed me my piece, I practically started drooling at the sight of it. It was chocolate, something I hadn't tasted in an eternity. I devoured the piece in three bites, then eagerly accepted a second helping. Even though it was just a cheap, store bought cake, I couldn't remember anything ever tasting so good.

Not long after everyone had finished, Steve came over and lightly patted my arm. "We're gonna head out, buddy. It's been a long day. I'll come by tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded silently, disconcerted to him leave. He'd been with me every night since I'd been rescued. He looked beat, though, and I knew he couldn't stay. "Night, Steve. Thanks…" I couldn't finish the sentence—there was too much to thank him for. He grabbed my hand for a second, nodded, and turned to go.

Two-Bit shifted, then came over and gently squeezed my shoulder. I flinched under the touch and he drew his hand back, quickly covering up a hurt look. "Glad you're back, Soda," he mumbled. I didn't miss the confused glance he threw to Pony and Darry before leaving. I didn't want to react that way. Two-Bit was my friend, and I appreciated the gesture, but I couldn't help it. No matter how hard I tried to push back the memories and focus on the present, they kept replaying in my head, over and over. When Two-Bit had touched me, it wasn't his hand that I'd felt.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~

I saw Soda flinch as Two-Bit touched him and I gave a small shrug as he glanced our way. I tried to convince myself that Two-Bit had just touched a healing bruise, but something about the way Soda's eyes had flashed told me there was more to it.

When the three of us were alone again, Soda turned to us with a blank look. "You guys should probably go, too. It's getting late. Visiting hours must be almost over."

Darry nodded, but I wasn't ready yet. "Can't we stay a little longer, Dare? Or maybe they'll let one of us spend the night…" I trailed off as Soda shook his head.

"You've got school tomorrow, Pone. Besides, Steve already asked," he added quietly. I saw a trace of fear darken his features, but he quickly turned his face blank again. I was even more reluctant to leave him now and with the way Darry was tensed up, I thought he felt the same way. Soda had perfected this look through the years and we both knew it meant he was trying to hide something.

He didn't say anything else, and after a minute Darry stood up to leave. Soda lifted his head at the movement, and it was painfully obvious he was trying to hold back tears. "We'll be back tomorrow," Darry said, trying to reassure all of us. "Try to get some rest, little buddy."

I echoed Darry's words and Soda nodded. I wanted to hug him again, but I was too afraid of getting the same reaction Two-Bit had, so I turned and followed Darry out of the room. Before we closed the door, I heard a small sniffle. It reverberated in my head all the way to elevator. When the doors opened, I hesitated. "We should go back, Darry. He shouldn't be alone."

Darry shook his head and pushed on the elevator doors as they tried to close without us. "He needs some space, Pony."

"But he's crying!" I insisted, frustrated.

"I know," he sighed, pushing on the doors again. "But he waited till we left. He didn't want us to see."

I tried to argue back, but I couldn't come up with anything. I knew he was right. I stepped into the elevator in defeat and when Darry put his arm around my shoulders, I leaned into him, resting my head against his side.

I tossed and turned that night, waking up every couple of hours from another nightmare. My imagination kept conjuring images of how Soda had gotten the scars, of how his leg had been broken. After one particularly vicious nightmare, I reached over to Soda's side of the bed, wanting to curl into his arms, only to remember that he wasn't there. I felt guilty for needing his comfort, knowing he probably needed mine so much more. The anguished look he'd tried to hide as we left floated back to me, haunting the rest of my dreams.