Chapter Thirty-Four

It was dark and it was quiet. Those were the first things that Soda was aware of as he drifted back toward consciousness. As he blinked his eyes open he fully expected to find himself in his cell in the Vietnamese prison camp. But the sight of his darkened living room in Tulsa, Oklahoma blinked into focus instead. He was confused for a moment. Was he hallucinating? But then all at once the memories came rushing back to him.

Slowly and carefully Soda sat up, a blanket that had been thrown over him falling off of his shoulders to pool around his legs. He shifted, letting his feet fall to the floor. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion and his entire body felt heavier than usual. There seemed to be a hole in his chest that opened a little further with each breath. It wasn't painful exactly. He just felt… empty. Like all his emotions that had been building up over the past few weeks were gone and in their place they had left… nothing.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness more details about the room around him came into focus. And he realized that he wasn't alone. There was a figure slouched over in the recliner. A passing car outside briefly lit up their living room with the light from their headlights and Soda was able to see his older brother's features. He was fast asleep.

Soda just sat there for a minute, unsure what he should do. Every agonizing detail from his breakdown earlier that day played over and over in his mind to the point where he was afraid to face his family. What would they think of him now? That thought was paralyzing.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there before there was movement from the recliner. He suddenly had the urge to run and get as far away from this situation as humanly possible. But his legs refused to move.

Darry slowly sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes. He looked disoriented for a moment, but then his gaze fell on Soda's form and realization overtook his features.

"Soda?" Darry said carefully. Soda opened his mouth but found that he could not speak. He closed it again and stared down at his hands clamped tightly together in his lap. He heard movement and suddenly Darry was on the couch next to him. He was quiet for a moment. "Soda? You okay?"

Soda took a deep breath and then nodded vaguely. He felt like that was probably the right answer. It was probably the answer his brother was looking for anyway. And anyway, wasn't he okay? He wasn't bleeding, he wasn't malnourished, he wasn't left without shelter. Air still filled his lungs and his heart still beat steadily in his chest. Physically he was more than okay. Did anything beyond that really matter?

But Darry was persistent. He scooted a bit closer on the couch. Soda found that he didn't flinch away from the presence. "Soda, be honest. Please."

Soda was vaguely surprised he was pushing the subject. Before he probably would have just let it go. But now things had changed. He had changed them with his breakdown. He took in a shuttering breath. "I… I don't know." His voice shook. He didn't even know how to go about assessing his mental health. What was normal anymore?

Darry took a deep breath. "Soda… I want you to know that we're all here for you. If there's anything we can do to make this any easier on you we want to do it."

"I know that," Soda said quietly. "I've always known that. I just wish I knew what it was that would make all this easier." He sighed heavily and rested his head in his hands. "I just… don't know, Darry. I just want to be okay again."

"I think you will be," Darry assured him gently. "It's only been a few weeks. Someday life won't be this difficult on you. I really do believe that, little buddy."

Soda nodded lightly. He raised his head and glanced out the window at the darkened neighborhood beyond. "Is it late?"

Darry nodded. "Pretty late. Pony crashed a couple hours ago. Steve tried to stay up but he finally gave in and went to sleep in my bed. Two-Bit had to work, he'll probably turn back up in a few hours."

"Can I… go for a walk?" Soda asked tentatively.

Darry nodded, more easy going about Soda taking a walk at this time of night than he thought he'd be. "Yeah, sure. You mind if I go with you?"

"Don't you have work in the morning?" Soda asked slowly, feeling a bit guilty.

Darry shook his head. "I'll call off in the morning; tell them my head's still botherin' me."

"Are you sure?" Soda asked uncertainly.

"I'm sure," Darry said steadily. "This is more important." Soda still hesitated and Darry seemed to understand why. "We don't struggle financially like we used to, Soda. I've gotten a few raises at work and Pony makes pretty good money to cover what his scholarship doesn't. We're not going to be buyin' any fancy new cars anytime soon, but we get by just fine. Me missin' a little work isn't too big of a deal anymore."

"Oh," was all Soda could think of to say. He had to remind himself yet again that life had gone on while he had been in captivity. It was such a difficult concept for him to grasp.

Soda went to pull on his shoes by the door while Darry retreated to get his own from his bedroom. Darry returned wearing not only his shoes but a jacket and had one of his old ones in his hand for Soda. For some reason Soda didn't have his own jacket anymore. He had noticed over the past few weeks that odds and ends that he used to have simply weren't around anymore. He was too afraid to ask where they had gone though. That was a conversation he wouldn't be ready to have for a long time.

After Soda shrugged into the jacket he turned and led the way outside. He still reveled in the simple freedom of being able to walk on his own through a door that was never locked.

The two brothers took a quiet walk around the dark and still neighborhood. Soda had been afraid that Darry would want to talk more and question him about what he was going through. But Darry proved to be a quiet companion, which he was grateful for. It allowed him to clear his head and feel more at ease.

They walked a circle around the neighborhood and it wasn't until they were back on their own street that Darry finally broke the silence.

"Steve made a few phone calls," he told Soda conversationally. "He managed to switch you to an afternoon shift at the gas station tomorrow. I can give you a ride."

Soda was quiet for a minute. "Maybe… maybe I shouldn't go to work tomorrow," he said softly.

Darry shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced over at him. "Soda, I'm never gonna tell you want to do. You should be able to make your own decisions." He paused. "But I will give you my opinion. Is that okay?" Soda nodded. "I was talking with Steve earlier about this. He said one of the best things for him after he got back was to have a routine. He said going to work everyday made him feel useful. It was days that he didn't work that he really struggled. So… maybe it would be a good idea for you to at least try to go in to work. If you want to."

Soda mulled it over quietly as they crossed their front lawn and approached the house. It did make sense. Even though hiding from the world sounded good to him right now he had a feeling that sitting around the house all day tomorrow wasn't going to help matters much.

They were on the porch before Soda found his voice. "Yeah. That sounds okay."

Darry looked at him critically. "You sure? It's completely up to you."

Soda took a deep breath before he looked over and met Darry's eyes. "I'm sure. Steve's right. I think getting back into a routine would be good."

Darry gave him a small smile as they headed into the house. "I think you're right," he agreed.

Soda slept restlessly that night, but he tried to attribute that to the long nap he had had that evening. He was glad that his shift was switched though because overall he just felt heavy in the morning. He found it much harder to will himself out of bed than he usually did. Normally he felt restless as he lay in bed, especially as the sun was coming up. That morning as the sun rose he felt as if there was a weight on top of him.

It was late into the morning before Soda finally convinced himself that he couldn't stay in bed all day. It was so strange to feel so lethargic.

As he had promised Darry had taken the morning off. Soda found him in the kitchen drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. They spent a quiet couple hours together. Soda dutifully ate the breakfast and the lunch that was placed in front of him. They watched TV and played cards to pass the time. Darry made some small talk and Soda did his best to participate. But in truth he was nervous about returning to work. But more than that he was nervous about facing Steve after what happened yesterday.

Several times Soda thought about backing out. He knew that if he told Darry that he had changed his mind he would not force him to go to work today. But what would be the point in putting it off? He would see Steve eventually. Just like he would see Pony and Two-Bit eventually as well. Life had to go on. Things had to keep moving forward. He knew that.

So when the time came he changed into his uniform and climbed into the truck with Darry without complaint. They drove to the gas station in silence.

"You have the number for my work site?" Darry asked as he pulled up in front of the garage at the DX. Soda nodded. He had tucked the piece of paper Darry had given him with that information away in his pocket back at the house. "Call me if you need anythin'. Two-Bit will be home too if you need anythin'."

Soda nodded again. "Thanks Darry," he said. He pushed open his door. "I'll see you later."

Darry smiled. "Have a good shift."

Soda hopped out of the truck and shut the door behind him. He headed right for the garage and was aware that the truck stayed put until he disappeared inside.

At a glance it looked like the garage was deserted. The radio was on playing a song that he didn't recognize. "Steve?" he called unsurely.

There were some clanging sounds and suddenly Steve materialized from underneath a nearby Mustang, covered in oil. He spotted Soda and smiled, but something about it seemed strained. "Hey, Soda." He climbed to his feet and brushed at his jeans, which only succeeded in smearing the oil stains. "You already clock in?"

"Uh," Soda murmured, his mind blanking for a moment. "No. I forgot."

Steve shrugged. "That's okay. Go clock in then you can get started." Soda hesitated and Steve looked at him critically. "You want me to come with you?"

Soda quickly shook his head. "No, I can do it." He didn't want to seem helpless with something so simple. He turned to head back out of the garage. "I'll be right back."

Soda started heading for the store but then paused. He didn't know who was working in the store today. Instead he changed directions and headed around to the back of the store, hoping that Steve wasn't watching. He walked in the back door and went over to the clock to punch in. After replacing his timecard he retraced his steps back around the back of the store and out to the garage again.

As he walked back into the garage Steve was already leaning over the engine of a Ford. Soda hoped that meant that he hadn't seen his roundabout path to the clock just now.

Steve glanced back at him briefly. "You wanna work on an engine or an undercarriage?" He spoke in a clipped tone without emotion. It put Soda a bit on edge. Something was off.

"Um," Soda mumbled looking around at the cars in the garage, feeling lost. He shrugged. "Undercarriage, I guess."

"Okay," Steve said. He finished up what he was doing while Soda stood there awkwardly. Finally he turned around and pointed out several cars that Soda could work on the undercarriage on. He told him to pick whichever one he wanted before he went back to the job he was working on.

Soda swallowed. He wasn't sure what he should make of this. Steve had never been this short with him before. He opened his mouth several times but didn't have the nerve to say anything. Finally he picked one of the cars and decided to just get to work.

As Soda worked he found that he was able to lose himself in the tasks at hand. Time passed much quicker than he had expected it to. It was comforting. He was clumsy at first but the more that he worked the more sure his movements became. Slowly the familiarity of these tasks was coming back to him. He found that he was able to relax in a way that he hadn't been able to before. He easily moved from one car to another, sticking with the tasks that involved the undercarriage of the cars.

He was so absorbed in his task that when he felt something tap his leg that was hanging out from under the car he yelped in surprise. He had forgotten the outside world still existed.

"Sorry," Steve said as Soda crawled out from under the car. "I called your name but you didn't answer."

"Oh," was all Soda could think of to say.

"C'mon, you've been workin' three hours straight," Steve told him. He was making an effort to sound friendly but something about him still sounded off. "Break time. You hungry?"

Soda studied him for a minute before he shook his head. He found more comfort in the cars than he did with Steve right now. "That's okay. I'll keep working."

"C'mon, you gotta eat somethin'," Steve said.

"No, I don't," Soda snapped as he glared at Steve. "You ain't the boss of me."

"What's wrong with you?" Steve asked, seeming surprised by his suddenly outburst.

"What's wrong with you?" Soda countered. "You've barely even looked at me since I got here."

Steve opened his mouth to respond but then snapped it shut again. He sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I just…"

After a pause Soda got impatient. He pulled himself to his feet so that he could face his friend. "You just what? Don't want to be around me anymore? Just say so, I'll get boss to change my shifts, I don't need you to hold my hand." He found that anger was a much easier emotion to deal with rather than embarrassment over his breakdown the day before.

Steve's eyes widened. "No, it's nothin' like that," he said quickly.

"Then what is it?" Soda demanded.

Steve shifted uncomfortably. "Can we sit?" he asked. Soda only nodded. Steve led the way back over to the workbench. He turned down the radio before he took a seat on a stool. After a hesitation Soda also took a seat on a nearby stool. He silently waited for Steve to figure out what he wanted to say. "It's just…" he started but trailed off quickly.

Soda sighed with impatience. "It's just it's hard to hear about what I went through," he finished flatly. "I know." He hated hearing that. He remembered when Pony had told him that after Daniels had visited. And it wasn't like he had planned to tell them everything that he had the night before. It had just sort of happened.

But Steve shook his head. "No, that's not it," he said quickly. Then he seemed to rethink his statement "Well, it kinda is. But not in the way that you think." He paused and took a deep breath. "I feel like I let you down."

At this Soda gave a start. It wasn't at all what he had expected to hear. "What?" he breathed, hardly able muster up enough air to speak.

Steve ran a hand through his hair. Soda suddenly noticed that he didn't use as much hair grease as he used to. Neither did he, now that he really thought about it. It just hardly seemed important anymore.

"I was so close, you know?" Steve said quietly, pain in his voice. He was staring determinedly down at his hands in his lap. "If I hadn't been anywhere near that prison camp maybe it would be easier to deal with… but I was right there. I came so close to being able to save you from this. I just kept thinkin' maybe if I had known you were missing, maybe if I knew…" His thought trailed off. Then he continued. "This goes back to even before you came back. I dunno if you know but no one told me anythin' about you until I got back. And I just kept thinkin'… what if I had known you were missin' while I was still over there? Could I have done somethin' different? Could I have brought you home sooner?"

Soda just stared at him for a minute. He had no idea that Steve was carrying around this level of guilt with him all this time.

"What could you have done?" Soda said quietly, his voice cracking slightly. He didn't like talking about this, but he knew that Steve needed to get this off of his chest.

Suddenly Steve was on his feet and pacing, full of nervous energy. "Somethin'. Anythin'. I coulda come lookin' for you or somethin'."

"You know that sounds crazy, right?" Soda said, still watching him carefully even though he wouldn't look at him. "It's not like you had all this free time to wander the jungles of Vietnam."

Steve glanced at him, still pacing. The more he spoke the angrier he sounded. "Well I coulda made damn sure the military was lookin' for you. I mean, we stumbled on that one prison camp by accident. It wasn't like it was well hidden or anythin'. How goddamn hard could it of been to find?"

"You know how many soldiers were missing in action?" Soda pointed out. "The military wasn't going to listen to you. And they weren't going to go searching the jungles for some lowly Private that they probably figured was dead anyway."

"You weren't just some lowly Private," Steve spat angrily. "And even so, why shouldn't they? If we just abandon soldiers over there then how does that make us any better than the enemy?"

Soda shook his head. "I dunno," he murmured, feeling a sinking feeling in the middle of his chest. Steve stopped pacing and leaned up against the workbench, crossing his arms over his chest. The silence in the garage was heavy with everything the two of them had been through since being drafted. Finally Soda took a deep breath, digging down deep to find the will to speak. "There was nothing you could have done, Steve. It was out of your hands." Steve glanced over at him briefly, frowning and clearly not convinced. "You can't think like that." There was a hint of pleading in Soda's voice.

"And why can't I?" Steve demanded, though there wasn't much force behind his tone.

"Because you can't torture yourself over something you had no control over."

Steve finally looked up and met his eyes. Soda swallowed as he felt a weight fall into his stomach. He knew exactly what Steve was thinking: that those words applied to Soda as well. It was amazing the kind of insight you could development when then situation was not your own.

"Easier said than done, isn't it?" Steve pointed out gently. Soda nodded silently. Steve sat back down on the stool, looking exhausted. "You ever think about how different our lives would be if we never got drafted?"

"Every day," Soda said quietly.

Steve gave him a knowing look. "After everythin' we've been through, you woulda thought bein' home would be easier." He paused. When he spoke again his tone was lighter. "We're gonna be okay though." He smirked. "Doncha think?"

Soda was vaguely surprised at how easily a smile graced his lips. "Well, I know I am. I don't know about you though. You're pretty messed up."

Steve cracked up at that and Soda felt his smile widening as he listened to his friend laugh at something he said. It suddenly felt so incredibly normal. Something about being here and feeling useful again made him feel more comfortable in his own skin. That was something he hadn't felt in a long time.

Things were never going to be the way they were before. Soda knew that. But that didn't mean that things couldn't be good again. Maybe he could learn how to make peace with his demons. Maybe he could learn how to be human again.