Author's Note: Hey guys! Just a quick note to those of you who also read my other story Ties that Bind: I'm so sorry I'm behind on it. But don't worry, it will not be forgotten. Work has just been so crazy lately. I hope to get up a new chapter early next week. Anyway, hope you guys like this chapter! Please remember to review!

Chapter Twenty

And like a single domino
That falls while the rest stay vertical
We're fed these empty fairytales
Oh will you believe them?

- Rise Against (Disparity by Design)

On Sunday Darry worked a double shift and hardly got to see Soda or the rest of the gang at all. He worked right through lunch again, ignoring his own exhaustion knowing that bills were going to be really difficult in the coming weeks. He came home late at night and barely had the energy to wake Soda briefly in order to help him change his bandages. Soda was only half awake during the process. After putting Soda back to bed it was all Darry could do to make it to his own bed before falling deep asleep.

Darry groaned loudly as his alarm went off Monday morning. It couldn't be morning already, could it? After a minute he rolled over and turned off the annoying beeping noise. He cleared his throat and rubbed his eyes. It was that moment that he realized something wasn't quite right. He coughed to try and relieve the scratchy feeling in the back of his throat, but it only made it burn. There was also a dull pounding in his head and he felt congested.

Darry just lay there for a moment in denial. He couldn't be sick. He hadn't gotten sick in years. He couldn't get sick now, not with Soda in his current condition. The doctor's words echoed in his ears.

"His immune system has been compromised from the whole ordeal, which is why it will be so important to keep him as healthy as possible in the future. Patients who get sepsis and survive do not always do well going forward. Another infection, even a minor one, could prove fatal."

He couldn't take the risk. Even a simple cold could cause serious complications for Soda. He would never be able to live with the guilt if Soda got sick because of him. He had to keep Soda safe. He just had to. Even from himself.

Darry felt a huge weight weighing down on him as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He coughed again, feeling his throat burn. He absolutely hated the thought of having to stay away from his injured brother. He suddenly felt so useless. Soda needed him and Darry had so little time with him when he wasn't working and now even that was taken away from him. He heavily got to his feet.

He wandered out into the hallway and hesitated outside of his brothers' door. He was conflicted. He didn't even want to touch the doorknob for fear of spreading his germs. But he had to at least get Pony up for school. Then a thought dawned on him. He headed out into the living room and sure enough he found Steve sprawled out on their couch, snoring lightly.

"Hey, Steve," Darry said. He kicked the couch lightly to jar him awake.

"Huh?" Steve mumbled, blinking around sleepily.

"Time to get up," Darry said. He covered his mouth and coughed again.

Steve looked up at him blearily, and then slowly sat up. "You feelin' okay Darry?" he asked slowly, looking at him almost critically.

Darry sighed and shook his head. "I think I got a cold," he said flatly. Steve looked at him seriously, clearly knowing what that meant. "Could you go get Pony up? I don't wanna get near Soda."

"Yeah sure," Steve said. He stretched and then got up, stumbling down the hall.

"And be nice about it!" Darry called after him as an afterthought.

Darry wandered into the kitchen and then stopped short. He couldn't even make breakfast because he didn't want to risk getting anyone else sick. He felt incredibly frustrated.

A few minutes later Steve shuffled into the kitchen, followed by a very confused and sleepy looking Pony. Darry carefully shifted away from them, standing awkwardly in the corner of the kitchen trying not to get too close to anything.

"What's goin' on?" Pony said sleepily as he fell into a chair at the kitchen table.

"Darry's sick," Steve answered bluntly as he took a seat next to Pony.

Pony looked over at him with wide eyes. "How sick are you?"

"Just a cold I think," he said. "But the doctor said even a minor infection could be real bad for Soda."

"But you never get sick," Pony said in disbelief.

"Yeah, until the worst possible time apparently," Darry said tiredly. As if to prove his point another cough escaped his throat.

"When was the last time you were near Soda?" Steve asked slowly.

Darry sighed heavily. He knew full well he could have been sick before he really felt any symptoms. "I helped him change his bandages last night," he said, feeling his heart sinking.

"Somebody should probably stay home with Soda today," Steve said. "Keep an eye on him and look for symptoms. I can do it."

Darry nodded. "That's a good idea, thanks," he said. Even though he never approved of skipping school he resigned himself to making an exception. This was very important. It was Soda's life. "Try to keep him in his room as much as possible too."

"Is there any point in asking if I can stay home too?" Pony asked without hope.

"No," Darry said automatically. He coughed as he started back toward the hallway. "You guys are on your own for breakfast. I don't want to touch anythin'."

"You goin' back to bed?" Pony asked.

Darry paused and gave him a strange look. "No," he said as if it were obvious. "I'm gonna go get ready for work."

Pony and Steve both returned his strange look.

"But you're sick," Pony said slowly.

"I still gotta work," Darry responded.

"You're supposed to rest when you're sick," Steve pointed out. "Otherwise you're just gonna get sicker."

Darry tried and failed to suppress another cough. "You both know full well we can't afford for me to miss any work," he said. He ended the discussion by walking away and closing himself in his room. As he got ready as managed to dig up some cough medicine with a respectable expiration date. He went back into the hallway, passing outside the closed door of his brothers' room again. He sighed. He prayed that this cold wouldn't last long as he turned without his usual goodbye to Soda and headed out the door.

XxXxX

Steve watched out the window as Darry loaded up into his truck and headed off to work. Steve knew full well that if it were any of the rest of them Darry would be insistent on them staying home and resting in order to get better as soon as possible so as not to risk Soda's health. He could understand why Darry couldn't bring himself to even consider staying home from work though.

After Pony grudgingly left for school Steve decided to check on Soda. With how close Darry had been to him last night Steve felt very nervous. Soda had only been out of the hospital for a few days. After finally getting him back home, he very well may land himself right back in the hospital.

Before he could go into Soda's room he decided that he should wash up just in case. One of the things the doctor had mentioned to do was to wash their hands frequently when they were around Soda in an attempt to keep him healthy. He spent a good ten minutes in the bathroom scrubbing his hands all the way up to his elbows. He didn't want to take any chances. After he was finished he went and knocked lightly on his friend's door. When he didn't hear an answer he slowly opened the door and peaked in. The room was dark with the curtains drawn. He could just make out Soda's still form, curled up on his side, fast asleep. Steve carefully entered, not wanting to wake him, and softly closed the door behind him. He moved closer to the bed and attempted to study Soda in the dim light. He seemed to be resting peacefully with no obvious signs of sickness that Steve could tell.

Steve settled himself into Pony's desk chair, contented to watch over Soda. He thought back to when Soda had first gotten the infection back in the hospital and how Steve had been the one who had first noticed his symptoms. He couldn't help but wonder what might have happened if they hadn't been there. How long would it have been until one of the nurses checked on him and noticed that something was wrong? Another hour? Maybe more? The doctor had said that one of the advantages they had was that they had caught his infection early. Steve couldn't help but think that if they hadn't been there watching Soda then they might not have caught it early enough. He might have died because of it.

It was another half an hour before Soda began to stir. Steve first noticed Soda's arm moving toward the empty space next to him, almost as if he were searching for something. His eyes slowly blinked open and he looked around blearily for a moment before his eyes fell on Steve, looking at him curiously.

"What are you doin'?" he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Watchin' you sleep," Steve said, biting back a laugh at his own joke.

"That's creepy," Soda said with a lopsided smile. He yawned. "Where's Pony?"

"He's at school," Steve said.

"Oh," Soda said. He paused for a minute and Steve could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He patiently waited for the next logical question, letting Soda work it out for himself. Soda looked back up at him. "Why aren't you in school?"

"I'm babysitting," Steve laughed. Soda glared and then grabbed Pony's pillow and flung it at him. It was a pretty weak throw and Steve caught it easily, but it was still a good sign that his strength was starting to come back. "Darry woke up sick today. We just wanna make sure you didn't catch anythin' from him when he was helpin' you change your bandages last night."

Soda looked troubled at this news. "Darry's sick?" he said. Steve nodded in confirmation. "How sick is he?" Clearly he was worried about his brother.

"Not real sick," Steve assured him. "Looks like just a cold. But the doctor said that even a minor infection could be real bad for you." Soda nodded, worry in his eyes. "How do you feel?"

"No worse than usual," Soda said.

Steve nodded, feeling marginally better. "You let me know right away if anything starts to feel off," he said.

Soda rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother," he said sarcastically. "Did Darry stay home at least?"

Steve snorted. "Superman?" he said. "He don't rest!"

"He's been workin' too much," Soda said. "That's probably why he got sick."

Steve nodded. "We tried to tell him that," he said. "But when he's got his mind made up no one can change it."

Soda nodded. He shifted around for a moment and then slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing in the process. He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed his pain meds. He popped two of them before reaching for the glass of water that was sitting next to the pill bottle and washing them down. Then he shifted and started to get out of bed.

"Whoa, where do you think you're goin'?" Steve said, getting up and going to block Soda's path.

"I'm gonna go get somethin' to eat," Soda said, looking at him like he'd lost his mind.

"You stay here, I'll go get somethin' for you," Steve said.

Soda rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed. "Even the doctor said I'm supposed to get up and move around," he reminded him.

"Yeah, well you can move around this room just fine," Steve insisted.

"Oh come on!" Soda said with exasperation, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. "So Darry gets a little cold and suddenly I'm the one on quarantine? How is that fair?"

"Darry's not the one who could die from a simple cold," Steve said bluntly.

Soda was quiet for a minute, looking troubled by this statement. The annoyance quickly melted away from his features, leaving some form of despair behind. "Did… did you guys think I was gonna die?" he asked carefully, not meeting Steve's eyes. "While I was sick? Was it really that bad?"

Steve hesitated for a minute. Then he slowly sat down on the bed next to Soda. "There were moments," he started slowly, "where you were hooked up to all sorts of machines and you wouldn't respond to anyone… it looked bad. And it went on for days and it seemed like you were only gettin' worse each day. Your blood pressure was really low and your temperature was really high and you were unconscious a lot of the time. Your kidneys were failing and your heartbeat was off and on irregular. After a while it was hard to imagine you comin' back from all that." Soda looked very solemn at hearing this information. Steve had to remind himself that Soda probably wasn't aware of much while he had been sick. "Do you remember anything from those days?" he asked curiously.

Soda closed his eyes for a moment, thinking hard. "I remember I was feelin' okay for a while after wakin' up in the hospital," he said slowly. "Then after a while I was slowly starting to feel sick, but I was too tired to really say anything about it. It seemed to happen kinda suddenly. I remember feeling hot and kinda sick to my stomach as I was fallin' asleep. Other than that I don't really remember anything, just some hazy images of you guys sittin' around my bed, lookin' worried, but I don't think I really understood why. I was just so tired."

Steve nodded. He was actually kind of relieved that Soda didn't remember much from the whole ordeal. He himself vividly remembered Soda's reaction the first time he had gone through the dialysis treatment and it had been unnerving. At least Soda didn't remember the pain he had been in.

"It was really hard to watch you go through all that," Steve said seriously. He looked over at Soda, who was staring down at his hands. "Soda." He waited for Soda to look up at him. "None of us want to see you go through that again. We're just tryin' to keep you healthy."

Soda paused and then nodded. "Yeah, I get that," he said.

"Good," Steve said, standing up. "Then you stay put. What do you want to eat?"

Soda smiled lightly. "Scrambled eggs with grape jelly and chocolate milk."

"You want all that in the same bowl?" Steve laughed.

Soda made a face. "No, the chocolate milk in a glass," he said. "Otherwise it'd just be gross."

"It sounds gross either way to me," Steve said, rolling his eyes as he headed out of the room.

Steve made up breakfast for Soda and brought it back to him in his room. Soda made a crack about him being a waitress and Steve cuffed him lightly and pretended to be offended. In truth he was just glad to still have his best friend to goof around with. Soda sat back against his pillows as he ate, still feeling too tired to sit up on his own for long periods of time. Steve contented himself to watching Soda eat, not wanting to take any food for himself despite his own rumbling stomach.

"Soda…" Steve said suddenly. Soda looked up at him between bites. "I never did get a chance to thank you."

Soda raised his eyebrows. "Thanks for what?" he asked, confused.

Steve took a deep breath. "Soda… if you hadn't jump on the counter like that and gotten that guy's attention… I wouldn't have had a chance, man."

Soda looked at him in surprise. Obviously he hadn't been expecting that. He was quiet for a minute. "You don't have to thank me for that," he said slowly. "I didn't even think about it. You woulda done the same thing."

Steve nodded, knowing that it was true. "I wish I coulda done more," he said.

"Hey, you did a lot," Soda said seriously as if it were obvious. "I wouldn't still be here if it weren't for you. I should be the one thankin' you."

Steve snorted. "Don't be stupid," he said.

"I'm serious," Soda said, looking at him steadily. "I feel like… holding onto you that night helped to keep me here." Then he smirked lightly. "Guess it's a good thing we always got each other's backs."

Steve smiled. "Yeah, you ain't a woofin'," he admitted. He reached out and patted Soda's shoulder. "I'll always have your back, buddy."

Steve let Soda finish up his breakfast. After that they played cards for a while, with even Soda complaining about how repetitive the game was becoming. They were going to have to come up with more interesting games to play soon, especially since Soda wouldn't be up for tossing around a football or wrestling for a while.

After a while Soda began dozing off in the middle of the game. Steve began gathering up the cards and placed them on the bedside table before coaxing Soda to lay back down and covering him with a blanket. It was so disheartening to see that Soda was still sleeping so much, even though he seemed much more himself while he was awake. Before all this happened Soda never seemed to run out of energy, and now suddenly it was like he didn't have any at all. Steve knew that his recovery would be going a lot quicker had he not gotten so sick from the infection. Hopefully this wouldn't last and soon Soda would be up and about like old times.

He just hoped that someday things would be able to go back to normal and they would be able to put all this behind them. After all, even despite his uncharacteristic behavior, Soda was still here with them. And that kind of luck was something that the Greasers hardly ever got. All they had to do now was keep Soda healthy.

Really… how difficult could that be?