I do not own the Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton. Another shout out to all that have taken the time to read and review, and another shout out to those that follow and favorite 😊

29

It was quiet on the way to the market. Sodapop hopped out of the truck to pick up a bouquet of flowers to leave for our mother while Pony and I stayed behind to wait. Ponyboy just sat and stared blankly out in front of him, and I wished that I knew what he was thinking. He looked as lost as I'd ever seen him before, and I wondered in the back of my mind if he noticed how much he'd changed over the course of these weeks.

"You okay, Ponyboy?" I asked him worriedly as I rubbed the back of his head gently. He didn't respond; he just stared off into space, seeing something I couldn't see.

I sighed as I let my hand drop from him, and placed it back on the steering wheel next to my other hand. I watched as my knuckles turned white against the pressure, as my fingers gripped the smooth material of the steering wheel tightly. I patiently waited for Sodapop to return, hoping he could help break some of the weight in the silence.

"What's wrong with me?" Pony's heavy whisper cracked between us in the truck.

"What? What do you mean?" I asked nervously.

I wasn't at all prepared for questions from Ponyboy. Until now, he seemed content in his silence and I took for granted that he'd be confused and want answers now that he was starting to talk. I wasn't sure how much to say or how much to keep from him.

"Why am I like this? Why can't I remember stuff or think right?" Pony asked with the same blank look on his face.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Pony. You just need time to heal and get better. It's gonna get better, you'll see." I said as my hand left the steering wheel, and again rubbed the back of his head.

"Something's wrong with me." Pony closed his eyes, curling his right hand into a fist and bringing it up to hit the side of his head.

"Shhhh…come on now. Stop that." I swiftly moved to pull his fist away from his head, concerned that he was going to hurt himself.

"Darry, what's wrong with me?" Ponyboy finally looked at me as he pleaded with me for an answer, and I felt myself struggle. I didn't want to answer. I didn't want him to know and I was scared that the more I told him, the more chance he'd have of remembering everything that sick monster put him through.

"You were hurt really bad, Pony. You were really sick for a long time and I thought we were gonna lose you, and we almost did. But you made it. You're so strong, and you made it. It's gonna take some time, but you'll be okay, baby. It's gonna be okay." I held his face in my hand so I could look at him while I talked.

"People think I'm retarded. I can't think right. Am I retarded now?" He asked as he looked at me; his eyebrows furrowed.

"What?" I was exasperated. "Who thinks that? You worried about what those socs said? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Nothing," he whispered sadly as Sodapop made his way back to the truck. The moment was gone like it never happened, and Pony was back to staring blankly at the dash.

Soda slid in the passenger side, the flowers wrapped in pretty printed paper. He smiled, but it was subdued and I felt like all the joy I'd felt earlier from our family breakfast, had been sucked right out of me. There was a heaviness to the air that I was breathing, and I could feel it surround the three of us. I drove the truck towards our destination, and it followed. When I pulled into the cemetery, my stomach was completely tied in knots, so much so, that it was becoming physically painful and I wasn't sure I'd make it out of the truck.

"Who should we go see first, Pony? Mom and dad?" Soda asked quietly as he wrapped his arm around his brother and brought him near.

Ponyboy shrugged at first, and then gave a slight nod as he moved his blank stare from the dash of the truck, to the pink print on the paper covering mom's flowers. He looked so sad; so lost that I could barely stand it, and my stomach gave another pull. I closed my eyes and grimaced as I clenched my teeth while I put the truck into park.

"Darry? Something wrong?" Soda asked as he watched me struggle to gain composure.

I didn't trust myself to speak at first, so I took a slow deep breath before shaking my head.

"Why don't you two go on ahead and I'll catch up with you in a minute." I smiled stiffly.

"Darry? You okay? You don't look so good." Soda started to worry.

"I'm fine. You two go." I gripped the steering wheel as tightly as I could in my left hand as I tried to give a reassuring smile to Sodapop.

Ponyboy turned his head to look at me as Soda opened the passenger door to the truck, and reached out to grab my shirt with his right hand. He suddenly looked as worried as Soda had, and I felt so guilty. I needed to get my shit together so I could be there for him when he saw the graves of those who meant everything to him. I just needed to shove this odd pain out of the way, take a deep breath, and move past it.

"C'mon, Pony. Let's go." Soda urged as he was backed up against the side of the seat, ready to piggyback Pony to the grave site of mom and dad.

"It's okay, little buddy. Just gimme a second, and I'll be right behind you." I tried to grin, but I felt a swarm of heat surround me, and I wasn't sure if I was going to pass out or throw up.

Ponyboy reluctantly turned to his brother. Sodapop handed him the neat package of flowers while he helped Pony get up on his back. Pony wrapped his right arm and leg tightly around his brother, while his left side was mostly limp, but Soda had a good hold of him as he walked down the path with him to see our parents.

My gut clenched painfully again, and I let out a moan as my body tensed and I clutched my stomach with my right hand as my left continued to grip the steering wheel. I tried to concentrate on my breathing, but the pain in my gut wouldn't let up, and I was having a hard time focusing on anything else. I felt the sweat on my brow, and I wiped at it as I decided to play stubborn, and will the pain away.

I managed to slide out of the truck without too much trouble. I let the door close with an easy push, and made my way over to the other side of the truck where the passenger door was still open from Ponyboy and Soda. I pushed it closed as well, and clutched at my stomach again as it gnawed at me.

"That's the last time I'm drinking, swear to God." I moaned quietly to myself as I followed the path the boys had taken moments before to see our parents.

The weather was warm with a gentle breeze that brought me a lot of relief as it cooled my clammy skin. I took my time walking, breathing in slowly and deeply, and exhaling just the same. It had been more than a year since I'd been here last, and I still remembered it like it was yesterday. Every tree, every crack in the concrete walkway I seemed to memorize that day, just to be focussing on anything else but the fact that I'd never see my mom or dad again.

There were quite a few people at the funeral; many I had no idea who they were. I remembered finding that strange; I was their son and they for the most part were the most important people in my life besides my brothers, and here there were pieces of them that I knew nothing about. I felt numb that morning. I spent the entire time psyching myself up; knowing I had to keep a steady gait for my brothers. They were depending on me for security, and I was holding it together well until I had to deal with all the people.

We stood together as people we didn't even know gave us their condolences, going on and on about how much they loved and would miss Darrel and Sarah Curtis. Sodapop and Ponyboy wept freely and I just stood there trying to keep it together; my hands jammed in my pockets to hide the fact that they were shaking, and my fingernails biting painfully into the skin of my palms. There was nothing to say to a bunch of strangers you didn't know, and yet they mourned the loss of my parents. I thanked them for their stories and at the same time I hated them. I just wanted to get the hell out of there and not look back.

The gang followed us home when it was over. This bunch of tough boys from the wrong side of the tracks that not only we, but our parents took in. I sat in my parents' bedroom alone while everyone was in the living room trying to act normal. I sat there and wondered what the hell to do next. I was barely twenty, and now had a thirteen and sixteen-year-old brother I'd be solely responsible for. Even with awards and a scholarship, I was too poor for college. Any choice that I may have had left in my life, ended that day.

The door knocked and I sat there on the edge of the bed wanting to be alone. I knew once I left the comfort of this room, the course of my life would change greatly, and I wasn't sure that I was ready for that yet. I looked up as the door opened, and Dally slowly came in and gently shut the door behind him. He looked around, awkwardly playing with his hands before taking a seat beside me on the edge of the bed.

"Y'know there ain't too many people I met that ever gave a hang about me. My own dad don't give two shits if I'm drunk, or dead, or back in New York on the streets. But that's okay man, y'know? I never really gave a shit either. But your mom and dad were something else, Darry. They weren't my parents, but I sure as hell wish they were. I'm really sorry, man. I just want you to know that I'm here for you guys."

I felt my eyes sting, and my throat get sore for the lump growing in it. I didn't trust myself to speak, so I just nodded, hardly believing that it was Dallas Winston sitting beside me talking this way.

"What are you gonna do now?" He asked. I still didn't know if it was safe for me to talk, so I shrugged.

"It's gonna be okay, man. You just gotta hang in there. It'll be alright."

He put his hand on my shoulder and rubbed it. I felt the first tear slide down my face, and then the next one, and the next one, until my vision was blurred and I couldn't take a breath without it catching in my throat. I closed my eyes, leaned forward, and buried my face in my hands while I cried in front of one of the toughest sons of bitches I ever knew. And he sat there and he let me.

When I was ready, I sat up straight, wiped my eyes with my hand, sniffed and cleared my throat. I let out a deep breath and nodded.

"Don't tell anyone, especially Ponyboy or Sodapop," was all I said to him as I stared ahead at the mirror of my parent's dresser, into a pair of pale blue-green eyes that suddenly turned to stone.

Dally patted my back as he stood up and headed for the bedroom door. He turned to look at me, and I looked back. We both nodded at each other before he slipped out and left me there, no longer a child of two loving parents, but a man suddenly forced to figure out life on his own.

I found my brothers huddled together in between mom and dad's headstones, like they weren't sure who to talk to first, so they decided on both of them at the same time. Sodapop peeled back the paper that was protecting the bouquet of flowers he picked out for mom, and him and Pony smiled as pink carnations were revealed.

"Mom's favourite," I smiled as I came up on them, and stood behind them. They both looked back and grinned at me.

Mom always loved carnations. Where most women seemed fonder of roses, mom would always gush whenever dad would bring her carnations. Pink was her favourite color, and I remembered that she always wore it so well.

"Hi mom," Pony smiled as he took the flowers from Sodapop, and gave them a smell. He rubbed his nose as some baby's breath tickled him, but then smelled the carnations again.

"What do they smell like?" Soda pulled Pony's arm over so he could take a whiff, and the two of them started giggling as they gently played around with the bouquet.

I grinned as I knelt down slowly, and then wedged my way between the two of them. Pony shoved the flowers in my face, wanting me to smell. I chuckled at him; the smile lighting up his face such a contrast to how sad he seemed earlier while we were talking in the truck, waiting for Sodapop.

"They smell like mom," I smiled at Pony and wrapped my arm around him as he brought the flowers back to himself and continued to inhale the spicy fragrance. He couldn't seem to get enough.

"Pony, that's what mom used to do. You look like her when you do that." Soda smiled, and I threw my other arm around him as we sat there, and held on to the moment.

The sun was shining down, and I felt like our parents were somehow with us. There was a lightness that I couldn't explain. I thought that I would feel sad, or guilty because I hadn't been there sooner to visit, but I felt at peace. I only hoped that if it really was them, they approved and thought I was doing a good job taking care of their sons.

"Here," Soda crawled over to Ponyboy and held out his hands to take the flowers. "I'll put them down for mom."

The lightness seemed to fade as the smile on Ponyboy's face disappeared. He held the carnations tightly to him as Soda reached to take them, and shook his head. The change in mood was swift and eerie.

"Come on, Pony. We gotta leave them for mom."

An anger seemed to build in Pony. He shoved my arm away from his shoulder, and then pushed at Sodapop while he continued to shake his head. I'd never seen a reaction like that from Pony, especially directed at Sodapop, and I was becoming concerned with how unstable his moods were.

"Pony, it's okay. Let Sodapop leave the flowers for mom." I tried to encourage him, but he just seemed to get even more angry, shaking his head at the both of us.

"Do you wanna leave them?" Soda tried, but Ponyboy was becoming furious, pushing at both me and Soda, and then trying to back away from us.

Soda and I shared a look; we both weren't sure how to handle this new side of Ponyboy. We'd never seen him like this before or after he was abused; it just wasn't like him. Pony had always had a stubborn streak, but he wasn't known to be aggressive, especially with Sodapop. I backed up and away, getting to my feet and feeling my patience slipping as my gut start to clench again. I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep my cool long enough to bring him back. This was a job for Soda.

"Pony, what's going on? Why are you so mad?" Soda's voice was calm and gentle, but the confusion on his face mirrored how I was feeling.

Ponyboy didn't answer, he sat clutching mom's flowers like they'd be stolen if he didn't protect them. His cheeks grew as red as his apparent anger; the hue reaching all the way to his ears.

"Ponyboy, what's wrong? You know you can tell me." Soda scooted closer so that he was right in front of his brother; his knees touching Pony's.

Pony moved to shove Soda again, and I moved to intervene, but Sodapop shot me a look that told me to back off. I stopped as he shook his head slightly, and watched on, ready to jump in if needed.

"Pone, you don't gotta be like that. Just tell me and Darry what's got you so worked up. It's okay, you just gotta let us know. We won't get mad at you, I promise."

"I want mom," he blurted out and hugged the pink carnations to his chest tighter as he stared at her headstone.

"Is that what's wrong? You seem pretty worked up over it, hon." Soda tentatively reached out to touch the side of Pony's head. Pony calmed slightly and let him.

"I don't wanna go," his voice rasped as he looked at me angrily.

"I didn't say we had to," I retorted defensively and then got one of those looks from Soda letting me know I was being a jerk. I grabbed at my stomach as it gave me another stab of pain.

"We can stay as long as you like, Pony. I just wanted to give mom her flowers." Soda explained softly.

"Then you'll wanna go. I want mom. I don't wanna go home." Pony started crying, and I honestly didn't know what the hell was going on. I stood there dumbfounded.

"Okay, okay," Soda shuffled beside his brother and threw a comforting arm around him, hugging him sideways. "It's okay, sweetie. We don't gotta go, okay?"

Pony looked up at me challenging, and I wondered if I should even be there. I looked back at him worriedly as I scratched the side of my head. I had no idea where all of his anger was coming from, but I couldn't help but feel like I was somehow responsible. I didn't know what to do.

"We can stay as long as you want." I stated cautiously as I gauged Ponyboy to see if he was going to lash out again.

Ponyboy looked at me angrily, but his eyes soon softened when he digested what I'd said. I slowly and carefully made my way next to him and Sodapop, and sat down. I looked at him warily, to see if he'd flip back to being angry, but his eyes didn't change, and soon he was shaking his head at me.

"Pony, what's goin' on? You mad at me?" I asked him as gently as I could, hoping I wasn't being too confrontational.

"I don't know," he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "What's wrong with me?"

"Shhhh," Sodapop soothed him as he wrapped both of his arms around him and gave me a look. "It's okay, Pony."

Pony was shaking his head. "No, it's not. Something's wrong. I'm not right." He cried into his brother's arm, and Soda started to look panicky.

"What do you mean by 'not right', honey?" Sodapop asked, his eyes never leaving mine.

"My head!" Pony croaked as his right hand came up to clutch at his ear.

Soda shook his head at me. "Darry, what's going on? I'm scared."

It felt as though someone had reached in and ripped out my insides. I shuffled closer to my brothers, and this time I was the one taking Pony out of Soda's arms to get a better look at him. I held his head back and looked in his eyes. He tried to look back at me, but it seemed he had to close his eyes to refocus every five or ten seconds. I was worried as hell but things seemed to come back to me from when we were in the hospital.

"Pony, does your head hurt?" I asked concerned as I tried to get him to focus his eyes on me, but he couldn't.

"My head," he repeated as he clenched his eyes closed, and tried to shake his head out of my hold.

"Ponyboy, stop." I said firmly, hoping my voice didn't come out too harsh as I held on even tighter to his head, trying to get him to look at me. "Ponyboy, I need you to look at me, okay?"

When his eyes opened, they were rolled back and deviated upwards; the tell tale sign he was having a seizure. His body went limp and pitched forward into me, and I looked over to Sodapop to keep time. It wasn't what I was expecting, but we were warned he could start acting odd before and after one of these episodes.

I maneuvered myself so I could lay Pony down, and keep his head supported on my lap. I looked over to Sodapop and nodded to his watch, wanting to know how long it was lasting.

"Two minutes. This was weird, Darry. He's never done this before. Maybe we need to take him to Dr. Pedersen." Soda was visibly shaken.

"Pedersen's a putz. He wanted me to put Pony in some institution where he'd be wearing diapers and getting fed through a tube while he wasted away in a bed. He's a shitty pediatrician." I was angry at the memory of taking Ponyboy to his own doctor for a check up after we'd had him home for a few weeks. He hadn't been seen by anyone since.

"Darry, we gotta see somebody. It doesn't have to be him. This ain't good." Soda looked at me. I knew that he was right.

There was only one doctor that I could trust completely with my youngest brother, but he didn't have a practice. His specialty was reserved for those in crisis and on death's door. I knew that I had no right to bother the man, but I didn't know what else to do.

"Darry, we're comin' on five minutes now." Soda's hand pressed against Pony's forehead as his eyes begged me to make a decision.

"Alright. We were planning on going there anyways. Let's get him to the hospital."