"We're all we've got left. We ought to be able to stick together against everything. If we don't have each other, we don't have anything. If you don't have anything, you end up like Dallas... and I don't mean dead, either. I mean like he was before. And that's worse than dead. Please... don't fight anymore."

– Sodapop Curtis "The Outsiders"

I guess I was sick a few days after that, because the next clear memory I have, is of a very hyper puppy licking my face at 5 in the morning. I rolled over tiredly, feeling like I'd been asleep for a week by how stick my bones were. I was hyper aware that someone else was in the room. Upon a second glance, I saw Steve asleep in the arm chair. Why's that old thing in here? I thought to myself as I grabbed one of the pillows off the bed and tossed it at him. He jerked awake, blinking his eyes as if he was trying to remember where he was.

"What happened?" I asked, sitting up slowly. My voice was hoarse and my throat hurt something fierce, but it wasn't my biggest concern. My biggest concern was what had happened after the funeral.

"You don't remember?" Steve asked, moving to sit beside me on the bed. I shook my head slowly. "Glory, Jo, you were real sick," he said gently, gently moving my hair off my face, his hand lingering on my forehead. The whole thing was beginning to drive me crazy.

"What happened to Soda?" I asked, not caring one bit that I'd been sick. I'd been sick before, far worse than a little flu or whatever was the problem this time. I'd seen people far sicker in my time, first off, my son. I obviously didn't die, so I obviously wasn't all that sick.

"The state ordered him to spend some time in the local ward," Steve said carefully, his tone guarded, like he was waiting for me to blow up or something.

"They forced him to be committed?" I asked in disbelief. There was no way Darry let that happening willingly.

"Actually, Darry suggested it…" Steve said softly. Well, there's a first for everything, apparently.

"No kidding?" I said, completely surprised.

"Yeah, I guess his outburst at the funeral kinda shook Darry up some. He was worried about everyone's…well ya know, safety," Steve said. I could tell by the dark circles under his eyes that he hadn't gotten much sleep those last few nights.

"Huh, never thought Darry would just had Soda over to the state like that," I said, my tone a lot harsher than I intended.

"You don't remember what happened, do you?" Steve asked, his tone turning from gentle to bitter.

"What do ya mean?" I asked, not entirely sure that we were on the same page.

"Don't you remember what happened after I brought you home?" Steve practically shouted. His little outburst caused Ponyboy, who must have been listening to our conversation, come into the room.

"Lay off, Steve," he said gently, coming towards us.

"No, she deserves to know!" Steve hollered. I hadn't seen Steve that angry since…well since before the war.

"Give her a few minutes, savvy?" Ponyboy said, producing a glass of water. "Drink," he instructed me, before snatching a bottle of pills off the nightstand. Weird, I hadn't noticed them. He popped two out and handed them to me. Like a child with her mother hovering in front of her, I took the pills without argument, washing them down with small sips of water.

I wasn't really in all that good of a mood, but since Blade was eagerly trying to wiggle back into my lap, I set the glass aside and shifted so he had room. He curled in my lap, his long fur brushing against my skin.

"So what happened?" I asked again, this time, trying to direct the question at Ponyboy.

"When I brought you home, Darry insisted on going right down to the station and working everything out. You insisted on coming along, because you felt you owed Soda that much. Why in the world you thought that, I still don't know," Steve said bitterly. "Anyway, we all hauled ass and got down there in record time."

I nodded, keeping up with the explanation, even though I didn't remember any of it.

"When we got down there…Soda said some pretty awful things to you," Pony said, shutting Steve up with a nasty glare. "He made…threats that the fuzz, not Darry, took lightly. So it was decided that he needed help…major help." Pony sat on the foot of the bed, a sad look on his face. "You don't remember any of it?"

"All I remember is going to Windrixville after the funeral. Everything else is a haze," I shrugged. "How sick was I?" Now that I knew where Soda was and why he was where he was, I wanted to catch up on what I missed. "How long…how long have I been sick?"

"You were pretty sick. You spent three days in the hospital, because nothing we did could break your fever, then you spent another week in bed, in and out of consciousness," Steve said gently, his anger now turned to concern. "You were asking for your mom a lot of the time."

"Oh…" I tried to remember, but I couldn't. I suddenly understood what Ponyboy had gone through after Johnny and Dally died. When he got sick, he couldn't remember either. "How're Mary and Michelle?"

"Mary's picking up extra shifts at the diner, and Mickey…well you know her. She's been trying to deal with everything. That kid's tough," Steve said with a smile. "Tim stopped by a few days ago – I guess he was worried about you too."

"Huh, either that, or Michelle got into it with Angela again," I sighed. For god knows what reason, both of my younger sisters had to break my only set rule of staying away from Curly and Tim Shepard's sister. Angela was nothing but trouble. She was a dark, twisted little girl with a lot of problems that I didn't need her bringing my sisters into.

"Angela doesn't live with Tim anymore," Steve said bluntly. "Their mom had her moved to a girl's home a few months back, apparently she kept getting into trouble at school and got arrested for armed robbery."

"See? I knew that child was nothing but trouble," I snorted. I coughed softly, my throat still sore. I reached for the glass of water, but ended up knocking it onto the floor because my movement caused the damn puppy to jerk up, knocking my hand away. I closed my eyes as the glass shattered on the hardwood floor, sending the skittish puppy flying off the bed.

"Nice one," I hissed to myself.

"I'll clean it up," Steve said, probably just so he had an excuse to move around some. It wasn't until then that I realized how crowded the bedroom seemed.

"Hey, Jo?" a familiar, very welcomed voice called from the other room.

"Yeah, Michelle?" I called back. Why wasn't she at school?

"There's a woman here looking for you," she called. "Said her name's Sally."

My heart dropped. What in the world could Sally possibly want? We hadn't updated her on anything after Soda was drafted. She didn't know about the twins, about how we were getting on, none of it.

"I'll be right there," I called, reaching for a clean shirt. Pony helped me stand, his hand gingerly placed at the small of my back. "Mickey, why don't you come in here."

"Alright," she called. A moment later, she was sitting on my bed. "Who's Sally?"

"Sally's your aunt," I said sourly. "And she has no right being here."

"Wait, she's the one who tried to take us away?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"Yeah," I growled, though even Michelle knew my anger wasn't directed towards her. I pulled on the cleanest shirt I could find, which wasn't even my own, and pulled my messy curls back, securing them with a clip before carefully walking down the hall. To my surprise, Blade was keeping my aunt at bay, growling loudly, snapping at her if she tried to step forward. I couldn't hide my smirk as I came over and gently patted the dog's head, applauding his behavior.

"I can't believe you keep a vicious dog around those girls," Sally immediately scolded me. I rolled my eyes and leaned against the doorframe, still feelin' kinda weak.

"What's this all about Sally?" I asked, just wanting the entire conversation to be over.

"You've got to be kidding me, love, you know exactly what this is all about," Sally's thick Texas accent made my skin crawl. "Why, chil' this is about that boyfriend of yours."

"What are you talking about?" I spat, panic rising in my chest.

"Darlin', he's all over the news clear across the country. 'Local War Vet Goes Insane At Daughter's Funeral'," she said, almost laughing at the title. "I wasn't even aware that he was a father. Glory, the poor mother of that child. What were you thinking anyhow? Getting involved with a married man?"

The way she said it really set me off.

"For your information, Sally May, 'that poor mother' as you put it, was me," I growled, my hands balling into fists. She gasped, her face going white as snow.

"My word, chil'," she said, swaying where she stood. "I didn't…I don't…When? How? Why?"

"Sally, really, why are you here?" I asked. My head was beginning to ache, and to be frank, I wasn't entirely in the mood to deal with her accusations.

"Obviously, now, I'm here to take Michelle and Mary and get them far, far away from this horrible town," she hollered, causing me to take a step back.

"Mary's not a child, Sally, she's free to do as she pleases," I said flatly. "And Michelle is in my custody, no two ways around it."

"That's the whole problem. The state never should've granted you custody of those girls. They're gonna go off and get pregnant and start the cycle all over again, just like your mama did," she spat.

"Don't. You. Dare," I warned, my patience pushed to its limits. "I'll have you know, Mary is pulling straight A's, working her ass off, and staying in school. College, Sally. She's done working her way through college," I growled. "And Michelle? Well that little girl is a bright little thing with a love for reading and free will."

"Free will? She's 8. She doesn't need free will, she needs structure and discipline!" Sally barked.

"Get out," I said. I couldn't handle her right now. I didn't need to. She had no legal right to Michelle. Shoot, she wasn't even related to her!

"You can't tell me to get out. It ain't your house!" Sally screamed, taking a step towards me. Blade growl, coming between us, his fur standing on end.

"No, but it is my house," a very welcomed voice chimed, its owner coming into view behind Sally. Darry stood there, his arms crossed in front of him, a look of disgust on his face.

"Jo-Anna Beth, you're still slumming around with this dirt?" Sally cried. "My word, no wonder you're such a mess. I tried and tried to tell your mama that these boys were no good, that these boys would make you girls grow up to be nothing but white trash hoods. Looks I was right after all."

"Sally, you're more wrong than you'll ever know," I sighed. "No, please, get the hell outta here."

"I'll see you in court!" She screamed as she turned and stomped down the stairs.

"No you won't," I said to myself as I backed away from the door. "No judge in his right mind is going to listen to a loonytoon like you."

I sat down on the couch, shaking my head.

"What was that all about?" Steve asked. He had heard the entire conversation. I waited for Darry to sit down and for Ponyboy to bring Michelle into the living room, before putting it as simply as I could.

"That woman has been trying to rip my family apart since my mother died. She has no legal right to either of the girls, and she has absolutely no right coming around here, throwing around accusations like she was. She wasn't there for Tommy's funeral or my father's, or even my mother's. Why she's trying to come back into our lives now, is beyond me," I said, my head aching from all the screaming and yelling.

"You don't gotta worry, Jo, she ain't gonna take Mickey away," Steve said softly.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," I sighed. "I'm worried about what she is going to do."

"You think she's dangerous?" Darry asked, his voice rising.

"I know she is. Why do you think I was so against Tommy going to Texas to live with her?" I said with a shake of my head. "Like we needed any more stress."

"Shoot, she isn't gonna be any kind of problem," Ponyboy said with determination. "Let me and Mary deal with her."

"Fine by me," I agreed quickly. "Hey, Michelle, you wanna take Blade for a walk with me?"

"Sure," Michelle said.

"You feeling up for that?" Steve asked gently.

"If I don't get out, I'm going to flip out," I said with a nod. "We'll only go down to the lot and back."

"Be careful," Darry said out of habit as I slipped on a light jacket and retrieved the leash from the kitchen table.

"Don't worry, Dar," I said, placing a kiss on the top of his head before limping out the front door. It felt strangely comfortable in the house. At first, it didn't really hit me as to why, but as my baby sister and I walked, I realized that it was because, for the first time in a long time, we weren't trying to deal with Soda's attitude. Instead, we were just dealing with the normal problems that life threw our ways. Normal, simple problems. Problems that seemed juvenile and childish after everything that had happened over those last few weeks.

I was grateful. Grateful for an ounce of normalcy, even if it was at the expense of locking Sodapop away. Maybe, just maybe, things would return to normal.