Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. This is my first chapter writting in the POV of an OC, so hopefully you all like it :)
Reluctant Helpers
I was on the phone with my buddy when Johnny burst through the door. I'd been expecting those kids and had been sticking around to make sure they got home, not that I much cared. Still, Dallas Winston had gone to jail for me, and we'd pretty much grown up together, so I figured I owed him. If he wanted me to keep these kids safe, then I guess I'd do it. I didn't have to like it though. The kids were behaving themselves so far, keeping out of trouble, so when the older one crashed through the front door half carrying the blond one, I found myself dropping my chin to my chest, not surprised…just tired. I needed to get to work, but this shit was probably going to take some time.
"Hey, T. I ain't gonna make it to work tonight." I told him, cutting him off in the middle of a conversation about whatever it was he was rambling on about.
"What the hell do you mean, man?"
"I need you to cover for me. I'll take your shift another time."
"James…"
"I owe you one." I hung up, putting the phone back on the hook and crossing my arms as I watched the kids struggle. "The hell happened to him?" I asked the older one…Johnny. The kid's head was bleeding…it looked like his side was too. The kid told me that he'd fallen off a ladder or something equally stupid, and I sighed, heading over and trying to give him a hand. The kid was shaking, and his skin was hot, so he had a fever, which figured. He was grabbing for the blankets, but I knew we needed to get his shirt off.
The kid didn't want his shirt off and fought us, weak fists flying. "Stop, Dally!" The kid yelled, shoving at me, his fist hitting me on the shoulder. It didn't hurt much. Still, I felt my temper flare, hands balled into fists as I forced myself not to grab him. I didn't want to hurt the stupid kid…if only he knew that.
"Will you stop hitting me? I ain't Dally!" I snapped, then paused when he shrank back. He was scared, shaking as he tried to get away from me. He was sick…sicker than I'd thought before, and I was yelling at him. Feeling kind of like a jerk, I took a deep breath. "Shit, kid. It's James, okay?" I told him, talking quieter and ignoring the other one, Johnny, who was watching me all of a sudden. "I ain't gonna hurt you. I just want to get your shirt off and see why you're bleeding."
"James?" The kid rubbed at his eyes like a toddler waking up from a nap. A memory surfaced then, and I shoved it back down. This wasn't my brother…this was some kid crashing on my couch. "Where's Dally?" He asked. His buddy answered, reminding him that Dallas was back in Tulsa, even though I'm sure I wished our friend was here in New York as much as they did. "Johnny, I'm supposed to call Sodapop." The kid moaned, sounding worried.
"The hell…how hard did he hit his head?" I asked, trying to get a closer look. It wasn't bleeding bad…well, his head wasn't anyway. His side was another story, but did the kid have some kind of brain damage or something? Or was he trying to say something else?
"That's his brother's name," Johnny told me.
"Sodapop?" I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Right. Whatever." I had more important things to deal with. "Get your shirt off kid, then you can call your brother." He stopped fighting me then, letting me lift up his arms, and the other kid helped me get his shirt off. The bandage on his side was bloody…he must have hit it or reopened something when he fell.
I grabbed a bottle of alcohol and hurried back to the couch where the kid seemed to be out of it. Johnny was keeping him upright against the sofa, and I pulled the bandage on the kid's side out of the way. It wasn't bleeding too bad, but it was a deep cut. Probably needed stitches, but I sure couldn't take the kid to the hospital. If I needed to do it myself, I would…I wasn't great at it, though. The kid arched his back, mouth open like he was about to start screaming, but no sound came out. I clenched my jaw and admitted to myself that this kid was awful tough.
Suddenly his friend frowned, moving his hand to the kid's shoulder and sitting him further up so his head fell forward, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Shit…" Johnny mumbled, eyes going real wide. I put down the rag I'd been using to clean him up, glancing at his back and freezing. Johnny stammered for a minute, head shaking, and I cut him off.
"A belt." I told him, feeling the anger in my own voice that I couldn't control. The hell kind of guy had this kid been living with? Holy shit, this was bad. His back was crisscrossed with red welts that went from the nape of his neck all the way down as far as I could see to the top of his jeans. No wonder the kid had been so scared when I'd snapped at him. "Someone belted him. More than once." I told Johnny, touching the kid's back as lightly as I could. There were old welts and new ones all crossing over one another, and I gave a long, exhausted sigh.
I cleaned up his arms next. There was row after row of burns, old and new, all familiar. My old man had given me one or two, but never this many…the kid seemed to fade in and out, his whole body shaking from the fever, I guessed, or how bad all this hurt. His buddy asked him a few times if he was okay, and the kid would mumble, or just ignore him. I wanted to see how high his fever was, but I figured we ought to get him cleaned up first.
When I was done with his side and his arms, I left to grab another washrag, soaking it in cold water, then returning to find that Johnny had gotten him to lay down. He was shaking, and Johnny pulled a blanket over him. He stilled a little when I lay the washcloth on his head. Resting a hand on his shoulder for a second, I glanced over at Johnny who sat beside him on the floor. "Fell off a ladder, huh?" I asked, and he rubbed a hand over his eyes, nodding. "Did you get fired?"
"No…our boss was pretty nice about it." I hummed, then headed into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I dropped a straw in the glass, bringing it back to find Johnny with his eyes closed, his head against his friend's leg.
Kneeling down beside the kid's head and trying not to wake Johnny, I held the straw to the kid's lips, remembering my brother again as Ponyboy drank, gulping it down as fast as he could until I pulled it away. "You're gonna make yourself sick, kid. Slow down." I urged, pushing his hair back, then pulling my hand away when Johnny opened his eyes. "Here." I murmured, putting the straw back to his lips, and he drank a little more slowly. "There you go, kiddo. Johnny? You might as well try and get some sleep. Both of ya need to sleep."
Johnny nodded a little, pulling his blanket nest he'd made on the ground over next to the couch where he seemed to immediately fall asleep. The kid, too, seemed to have fallen asleep, and I dropped into my chair, closing my eyes and wondering how long it would be until I fell asleep. Instead of sleeping, though, I found myself thinking no matter how much I tried to stop. Thinking about a kid with messy black hair whose cigarette burns I'd cleaned up plenty of times…who'd hid behind me when the belt had come down on both of us. Who'd crawled into my bed when it stormed.
The phone rang, jerking me awake. Apparently, I had fallen asleep. I glanced at my watch…past three in the morning. On the floor, Johnny groaned and rolled over, apparently too tired to remember why he was laying so close to the couch. Ponyboy didn't stir. I groaned aloud, pulling myself to my feet and grabbing the phone, blinking tiredly. "What?" I snapped, wishing I'd thought to turn the light off.
"Hey man. It's Dallas."
"Good timing. Something happened to the kid." I told him, not in the mood for small talk. There was silence, and I figured he wanted me to go on. "Apparently he fell off a ladder at work. Got hurt…hit his head. His side, too. He had an old cut there and it was bleeding.
"Yeah?" Dally asked, sounding worried now. "Johnny got him home, though?" He asked.
"Yeah. About had to drag him here, though. The kid's out of it."
"Yeah, alright…do you think he needs a doctor?"
"Don't know, man. He's asleep now. Not like I can afford it. He's sick, though. I don't…"
"James?" Dallas interrupted. "The kid's brother wants to talk to you."
I lifted an eyebrow, even though he couldn't see me. "Brother, huh? The big one?"
I heard the grin in his voice when he answered. "Yeah, the big one."
"Great." I waited as he passed the phone over, then winced a bit at the booming voice in my ear.
"Where the hell's my little brother?" He sounded big, all right. Probably a football player or something. I still wasn't so sure that he hadn't been the one to do this to the kid. I mean, the kid swore he hadn't, and the other one said so too, but they could still be covering. That booming voice reminded me too much of my old man, and I felt my hackles rise. Still, this guy sounded pretty worried about the kid, and I had to admit, he might have a reason to be worried. Sighing, I dropped my head back against the sofa.
"I'm assuming this is Darrel."
"Darrel Curtis. Yeah." He bit out.
"Your little brother's on my couch…asleep. The other kid too."
"What's wrong with him? Let me talk to him."
"Can't man…I ain't about to wake him up. He ain't doing too good. Besides, it's past two in the morning." On the ground, the other one stirred a little, rolling over to hide his face from the light.
"I want to talk to my brother. Now." He growled. I could tell he was the kind of guy used to getting his way and I lowered my voice, not wanting to wake the kids.
"He's sick, man. Don't worry, he'll be fine."
"Don't give me that shit! I don't even know you! You have any idea what this is like? You got a kid brother relying on you?"
"Not for about two years," I told him quietly, hating it, but knowing I'd have to tell him if he was going to get that I'd look after the kid…and maybe not just for Dally. On the sofa, the kid was still asleep, and as far as I could tell, so was the other one. His blond hair poked out from under the blanket and I stared at it for a moment. There was a long moment of silence, then the guy on the other line swore, sounding tired. "He was younger than yours, but not much. Had just turned thirteen."
"Shit." Darrel sighed, sounding kind of sick as he lowered his voice. "Man, I'm sorry…"
"You sure as hell didn't do anything." I snapped a little and then sighed. "This one's got a hell of a fever. Fell off a ladder and hit his head. Opened up an old cut on his side too, but we put alcohol on that and his arms. Nothing much to do about the marks on his back, though. They ain't infected or nothing."
"What marks on his back?" The guy demanded.
"The kind you get when some asshole belts you," I admitted, knowing he wouldn't accept anything but the truth for an answer. The guy swore again, this time sounding like he might start crying, and I clenched my jaw, shaking my head. This wasn't what I'd wanted to tell him. Hell, the kid sure didn't want anyone to know.
"I ain't gonna let your kid brother die on my sofa. If he needs a doctor, I'll figure out a way to get him to one."
"I can send you some money." The guy offered. "Just…let me know. I'll figure out a way to get it to you. I can send it through Dal…you ain't gotta give me your address or nothing."
"Don't worry about that right now, man." I'd take care of it. If he needed a doctor, I'd figure it out. This guy had enough to worry about.
"I don't even know where he is…"
"Good." I reminded him. "Keep you from doing something stupid like coming over here. The kid will be fine. I'll call Dally if he isn't."
"No, call me…or my brother."
"Sodapop?"
He hesitated. "Yeah…how'd you know?"
"The kid told me about yous two. Apparently, you're 'not so bad.' You're big and roof houses and the other one has a weird name like the kid and works at a filling station."
Darrel laughed a little, sounding strained. "Yeah, a DX. You got a pen? I'll give you the numbers."
"Sure thing, man." I agreed, grabbing a pad of paper and writing down the numbers he told me.
"He's asleep?" He asked once I'd written them down and put them by the table where the phone sat.
"Yeah. Johnny brought him home. About had to drag him. Kid was out of it. He fell asleep on the sofa a while ago. Got him to drink some water. I'll try to get him to eat in the morning."
"Alright…can you get him to call when he wakes up?"
"Yeah. And I'll call if anything changes."
"Thank you, James." The guy murmured, and I sighed.
"You got it, man." With that, I hung up, looking down at the kid for a minute. He was sound asleep, the blankets pulled up to his chin. Leaving him alone, I dropped into the chair again, closing my eyes.
When I woke up, the kid was still asleep. I grabbed a glass of water again, putting the straw to his mouth and shaking him a little until he took a drink. "There you go, kid." I muttered, patting him on the shoulder. "You awake?" I put the back of my hand on his forehead…still hot. He didn't stir, just shivered under the blankets. Grabbing the bottle of aspirin, I pulled out two, crushing them and letting them dissolve in the water. Holding the glass up to his mouth, I started pouring it between his lips, patting him again when he wrinkled his nose. "I know, kid. Just drink it. It'll help." He did as I asked, swallowing the bitter water, then laying his head back against the pillows.
Johnny woke up after about an hour at eight, his eyes immediately going to Ponyboy. Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, he half crawled over to his friend, touching his forehead like I had. For a minute, his hand rested on his friend's head, then he grabbed his shoulder. "Pony?" He asked, shaking him a little. The kid didn't stir, just shivered a little under the covers.
"I gave him some aspirin and got him to drink some water."
"Yeah?" He shook Pony again, obviously worried. "Pony? You okay?" He didn't answer. Didn't even shiver again.
"Try to get him to eat something later." I told him. "I've got to get to work. You gonna be okay with him?"
"I gotta be at work by seven."
"I'm off at four. I'll come right home."
He was quiet for a minute, then nodded. "Thanks."
"Sure, kid. I'll bring some food back for him. You too." Johnny nodded, and I hurried into my bedroom, changing into a pair of black pants and a white button up shirt. Johnny didn't even glance up when I left, shutting the door quietly behind me.
My buddy was waiting for me by the door, his arms crossed, a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. I dropped the one I'd been smoking on the way onto the pavement, stomping it out. "I owe you one, Terry."
"You're damn right." He snapped, throwing his own onto the ground, stomping it out with his sneaker. "What the hell happened to you? We're short enough with Sam leaving!"
"Had some stuff to take care of." I tried to brush him off, but he wasn't having it. He moved, blocking the door, his eyes going from angry to almost worried. He talked a tough game but we'd been friends since we'd been in diapers, so he couldn't hide much for me, or me from him, unfortunately.
"What's going on with you, man?" He asked, moving in close like someone was listening.
"I just got some stuff…don't worry about it." I tried to go inside again, but his next words stopped me in my tracks.
"This about those kids Dallas Winston sent?"
"The hell you know about them?" I demanded, wheeling around.
"Ed might have mentioned it." He admitted.
"Ed needs to learn to shut his damn mouth."
"Someone mess with 'em?" He asked, still looking kind of worried.
"One of 'em's sick." I gave in, crossing my arms. "Fell off a ladder at work."
"Which one?"
"The younger one."
"How old is he?" He asked, real quiet, and I fought the urge to break his jaw.
"Fifteen." I ground out. He didn't answer, just humming a little. I knew what he was thinking, but he was smart enough not to say it. "And don't go spreading it around that they're staying with me. They gotta lay low."
"Whatever, man." He was quiet for a second. "He gonna be okay?"
"Don't know…he might need a doctor."
"You need money?"
"Nope. Just gotta get to work. I'll take one of your shifts when he gets better."
"Alright." He shrugged, and I figured he'd drop it, but a few hours later, when I was flipping a burger and he was pouring fries onto a plate, he turned back to me. "You sure nobody's messing with 'em? You know we'll back 'em up."
"Far as I know." I answered shortly, putting a bun on the grill. Our boss slipped by, calling a waitress over who grabbed a tray from him. Slipping behind him, another one grabbed a burger I'd been grilling and throwing it on a tray. "Want to let me finish cooking that?" I rolled my eyes, grabbing another one, and she didn't deign to respond.
"Know where they're working?" Terry asked, pulling a basket full of fries out of the grease.
"Nope."
"What are they doing?" He asked, dropping another basket into the hot oil and jumping back when the frozen fries spit grease everywhere.
"Stock. Some grocery store."
"Not bad." I grunted, putting the food on the plate.
He left it alone for the rest of our shift, and I grabbed three burgers and a sack full of fries to take home. "How sick is he?" My buddy asked as I was heading out, lifting an eyebrow as he undid his apron.
"I don't know…pretty sick. I ain't a doctor, man."
"Yeah?"
"He hasn't woken up in a while…not since last night, far as I know. The other kid's keeping an eye on him."
"Heard anything from Pete and his guys?"
"Nope. They're staying on their side of town and we're staying on ours."
"Yeah? How long you think that'll last."
"A long time if they know what's good for 'em."
"Yeah, and we've got two extra guys if we need them!" I snorted.
"The little one don't weight a hundred pounds soaking wet. Doubt he's much good in a fight. The older one ain't much bigger. Shorter too. Besides, he ain't in no condition to be fighting. Probably won't be for a while." I held up the sack of food. "Better get this back to the kids, man. See you around. And remember, keep your mouth shut."
"Sure." He called, probably about to say something else, but I was already heading home, waving over my shoulder and hoping he didn't go mouthing off to nobody.
When I got back, Johnny was sitting in my chair, his hands clasped in his lap, his jaw tight. He looked up when I came in, eyeing the sack in my hand, then gesturing with his head at the kid. "He hasn't woke up but once…won't stay awake." He told me, his voice weak, wide-eyed and obviously scared. "He, uh…he's still real hot. Keeps asking for Darry and Sodapop." The kid was covered up to his neck by a blanket, his blond hair messed up like he'd been tossing and turning, a cold rag on his forehead askew and almost covering his eyes.
"Grab me a glass of water and some aspirin," I ordered, putting the sack down and moving over to the kid's side. His forehead was hot even under the wet rag, and when I shook his shoulder, he just groaned. I took the glass and the aspirin from the kid. "Get him up." I ordered then, and Johnny helped his friend sit up against the sofa, putting an extra pillow behind his head. I knelt down, tapping him on his flushed cheek, and after a minute he blinked a little, staring at me tiredly. "Hey kid, wake up for a second, will ya?"
"Mhm." He mumbled, shivering and trying to grab the blanket. I pullled it up over him.
"Swallow these." I wasn't sure if dissolving them was making them less effective…either way, he swallowed them after I coaxed him, pouring water into his mouth. "Try to finish the glass." Johnny was watching me, looking confused. "What?" I demanded, sounding more irritated with him than I was.
"Just, uh…you're good at that."
"Used to take care of my little brother," I explained shortly, not about to have a heart to heart with this kid.
"Oh…" Johnny didn't ask, and I didn't give him anything else. "Kid? Hey, Ponyboy?" I pat him on the cheek again and the kid groaned, glaring at me a little. I grinned. "Can you eat something?" He shook his head, closing his eyes again.
"Okay." I stood up, letting him lay back down. It wasn't good but I couldn't force-feed him. "You want to eat something, Johnny? I got burgers." I jerked my head toward the bag and he grabbed it with a grin.
"Thanks. I can pay you for 'em."
"They're free, kid." He paused, staring at me. "I work at a diner." I elaborated, rolling my eyes.
"O…oh." He glanced down at the bag, then back at me with that same wide-eyed look. The kid looked like a damn owl. "Oh."
"Yeah." I sighed, dropping into my chair.
"Oh…that's why you never eat." He muttered. I lifted an eyebrow.
"What?" I asked, snorting a little.
"Nothing…just…Pony said…he never saw you eat."
"He did, huh?" I chuckled, rolling my eyes and remembering my little brother for a minute. Sounded like something he'd say. I ignored the thought, grinning at the kid. "Everybody's gotta eat, kid. Now go eat something. I'll watch this one."
Johnny must have inhaled his food because he joined me after only about ten minutes. "He hasn't hardly woken up at all. I got him to drink some water…I don't know if he needs a doctor or something."
"He's gotta eat if he's gonna get better. Think you can get some soup from that grocery store? That should be easy for us to get him to drink."
"Yeah…I can do that. He likes tomato soup."
"Sure, get that. You work at a grocery store…they'll have enough kinds to choose from. Get more aspirin while you're at it."
Until Johnny left for work, we both sat pretty quiet in the living room. After about an hour, I went into my room and grabbed the radio, turning it on low and ignoring the surprised look Johnny gave me as long as I could. Finally, I rolled my eyes again. "What, kid?"
"Just…didn't know you had one." He hesitated. "Got a TV in there too?" He asked, trying to peer past me. I snorted.
"Nope. Didn't want to pay for cable. You can keep the radio in here if you want though…until the kid gets better."
I grabbed another cold washcloth and replaced the one on the kid's forehead, then got him to drink more water. Johnny left at six, probably getting to work way too early, but I figured he needed something to do. While he was gone, I coaxed the kid into drinking water every hour or so, kept the cold washrag on his head, and kept trying to get him to eat. Giving up on the burger, I dug through my cabinets but didn't come up with any soup. He rejected the sandwich too, groaning and throwing his head to the side when I tried to coax him.
At eight, when I figured his brothers back in Oklahoma would be home, I called their house, sighing when I thought about the long distance charges. I figured it would be worth it…if it were my kid brother, I'd want whoever was watching after him to call me too.
"Hello?" It didn't sound like the big one…guess it had to be the other one…or maybe one of their friends.
"This one of the Curtis's?" I asked.
"Nope. Matthews."
I sighed, wondering how the hell I was gonna keep track of all these people. "The hell are you?"
"This James?"
"Yeah." I waited.
"I'm a friend. Name's Two-Bit. The kid there?"
"Any of you got normal names?" There was a long silence and I figured he wasn't gonna answer. "He's asleep," I told him, letting it go.
"Still?" He asked, dropping the tough act for a minute.
"Where are the brothers?"
"Darrel had to work late. Soda's out with his buddy Steve. I promised to man the phone if he went out for an hour or two. He's been sitting by the phone all day…about to go nuts." There was a pause. "He okay? Ponyboy?" I sighed. Why were so many people asking me that? I wasn't a doctor! Still, I decided to be honest.
"Can't get him to eat. Can barely get him to drink anything. He's taking aspirin but the fever hasn't broken. He ain't bleeding anymore, so that's something." The guy on the phone grunted, and it sounded like he said something else, but I couldn't make it out.
"He likes tomato soup…mushroom too." He told me, his voice just barely there.
"I sent the other one to get soup when he gets off work."
"Good." He hesitated, then went on. "He likes cherry coke. Hard-boiled eggs are his favorite for breakfast. That and chocolate cake." I snorted.
"Giant Darrel Curtis lets his little brother eat chocolate cake for breakfast?"
"Sure." He was quiet for a minute, and when he spoke again, his voice had gone real quiet again. "Right after their parents died, Sodapop asked if they could have cake for breakfast. Their mom made the best cakes, and Sodapop made one just like hers. Pony wasn't eating real well…his brothers were kind of desperate. Kid was losing weight, getting sick...Dar said fine, and ever since, we've all had chocolate cake for breakfast." I grinned a little.
"So, eggs, tomato and mushroom soup, and make a chocolate cake if I can." He chuckled on the other line.
"Sounds about right. You're lucky it's him and not his brother staying with you. Sodapop eats his eggs with jelly." I about gagged.
"That's disgusting."
"Yeah…Pony's still asleep?" He clarified, even though I'd just told him. Apparently, this kid was everyone's little brother.
"Yeah, he is. Just wanted to tell Darrel that nothing's changed much."
"Thanks, man."
"Sure. I'll call back if he wakes up and can talk." Dropping the phone on the receiver, I drummed my fingers on my leg, then picked it up again, dialing quickly. It rang for a few minutes, then a familiar voice picked up.
"Yeah?"
"Hey, T."
"What's up, man? Need me to work another shift?" He asked dryly.
"You got any soup?" I asked, ignoring the comment.
"What?"
I rolled my eyes, dropping my head back. I needed more sleep…and more alcohol. "Soup. It's a food, usually in a can, and…"
"I know what soup is. Why the hell…"
"Do you have it or not?"
He hesitated. "Yeah…"
"What kind?"
"Umm…chicken noodle, I think. Maybe some tomato."
"Be a pal and bring 'em both."
"The hell do…"
"The kid won't eat nothing and he needs to if he's gonna get better. I ain't gonna wait around for the other one to at back past eleven. Just bring a couple of cans over, would ya." My buddy gave a long sigh on the other line.
"Yeah. Fine. I'll be over in a few." I hung up without thanking him. I was acting weird enough…no need to freak him out even more. Glancing over at the kid, I pointed a finger at him. "You ain't dying on my couch, kid, so don't even think about it."
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter.