A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, and to the useful answers as to who controls your body. Am I the only one who thinks 18 is a little old? I mean, if I were Johnny I wouldn't want my folks controlling whether I get to have something vital like an appendectomy or something. Or maybe that's just me.

Wow, this story is now over 100,000 words! I swear I never meant to make it that long! The plot took control of me!

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Steve came round to Two-Bit's house that night. He hadn't been out much recently; he'd mostly been sitting in his room brooding, but it was time he caught back up with the gang. Besides, he still hadn't given Evie's money to Darry yet. He really needed to get onto that…

He was feeling so tired and vague that it took a moment to register that Pony was resting on the couch in front of the TV, a cast on his arm and a cut on his face. Steve blinked; what the hell could that kid have been doing to get his arm broken? In all honesty, Steve thought Pony was a bit of a weakling for doing track instead of football like Darry. Football was a real sport, one that could get your arm broken. Track was for the skinny little guys who didn't make the team. He clearly hadn't acquired a broken arm from track, and he never spent long enough in a fight for any Soc to break it – Darry always had to come and help him before the poor baby was hurt.

He could have just asked, but Steve was too proud. Instead he set his shoulders and stalked past Pony into Two-Bit's tiny kitchen, intent on finding out what was cooking.

Mrs Mathews was before the stove, stirring something that look absolutely divine and smelled even better. Steve sidled up next to her. "That looks great, Mrs Mathews," he said, hoping there would be enough for him. Ponyboy always ate more than his fair share…

"Well, thank you, Steve," said the older woman. "You should teach my children a thing or two about respect. You're a gentleman."

There was a snigger from the small dining table, and Steve turned and saw his best friend grinning devilishly at him. "Yeah, he's a real Prince Charming," Soda said sarcastically. He brushed a stray piece of hair from his eyes – it didn't look as though he had greased it today – and Steve noticed the long gash on his arm.

"Oh my God, what happened?" he asked, showing a great deal more concern than he had shown towards Ponyboy.

"I didn't tell you?" Sodapop asked. "Sorry, I meant to, I really did. Pony had a car crash the other night."

So that was what had happened to Pony's arm. Not that Steve cared much at that moment. "He should've been more careful!" he cried. "Driving's not difficult."

"Would you quit it?" Soda snapped suddenly, unexpectedly. "I'm getting real sick of you always getting stuck into him."

Steve raised his eyebrows. He stalked out, mumbling something about it being that time of the month. Soda just rolled his eyes and ignored him. Steve was really immature sometimes.

Mrs Mathews just added a little more pepper to her dish, letting the boys worry about their own problems.

Darry came inside shortly afterwards, surprised to see Pony and Steve watching TV together while Soda was in the kitchen reading… something… Darry hadn't bothered to check. Normally it would be Soda sitting with Steve and Pony off reading alone.

"How're you feeling, Pony?" Darry asked. He knew Pony would be in quite a bit of pain from the injuries he sustained in the car crash, and Darry had resolved to check daily how much aspirin they had. He didn't want his little brother overdosing… he'd already take aspirin almost daily before the accident. He wouldn't mention it until it became a real problem, but Pony's consumption of drugs really worried him.

"Hurts to breathe," Pony complained.

"You need me to rewrap your ribs?" Darry offered.

"Nah, Soda did it earlier." Pony unconsciously rubbed his chest, then winced and stopped. "The nurse told me if I hadn't quit smoking I'd be in a lot worse shape."

"That was a real good thing you did, Pony," Darry muttered.

"You quit?" Steve questioned sharply. "I never knew you quit."

"Yeah, well, I did," Pony snapped.

"Geez Louise, no need to get all defensive…" Steve said. "Soda doesn't know you quit. He says to me the other day, he says 'Pony hasn't asked me to get him smokes in a while.'"

Darry eyed the kitchen. "We don't really need to tell him, Steve," he said. "Pony quit for his benefit… I dunno how he'd take it."

Steve jumped off the couch. "That's outta line," he said. "He doesn't need to be protected by you, Darry."

"How 'bout this, Steve? How about you leave the running of my family to me?"

Steve glared at him before remembering what had happened the last time he had gotten into a fight with Darry. Rubbing his jaw unconsciously, he picked up the bag he had brought to give to Darry and shoved it at him before storming out.

Darry rolled his eyes, dumping the bag on the ground without bothering to look at the contents. He wandered over into the kitchen, not feeling like continuing the argument with Pony instead of Steve.

"Smells real good, Mrs Mathews," he said truthfully. He joined Sodapop at the table. "What've you got there, little buddy?"

"Actually, it's for you," Soda said, pushing the form he had been given over to Darry. He waited for the blow-up, rubbing his hands together nervously under the table.

Darry read it over, his face darkening swiftly. "They want to make you have an asthma attack? Are they crazy? I'm not signing that!"

Soda knew he would react that way. "We think we can see exactly what causes it," he explained, trying to keep his voice calm.

"We? We think? What d'you know? You never graduated medical school! Why can't they just wait for someone to come in through the ER?"

"I dunno," said Soda. "I guess those people would already be in the middle of one. Maybe they want to see what happens when it starts."

"I can tell them what happens when it starts," snapped Darry. "My own brother can't breathe, that's what happens. Do you know how scary it is for me to have to watch that?"

"Do you know how bad I want this gone?" Soda snapped. He was already feeling stressed after the argument with Steve, and he didn't feel like having one with Darry. Though he could see where he was coming from, Darry needed to listen to him. As much as Darry didn't want to admit it, it was Soda who was most affected by asthma, not Darry. "I dunno how many attacks I've had, but it would've been hundreds. And I'm still here, ain't I?"

Darry scowled at the sheet in front of him as though it had paid him a personal insult. "I'm not signing that," he said firmly.

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A/N: As if he would sign that, let's face it. Reviews? This was a very fast update, please encourage it.

This is a shout out to anyone with a story posted here: I've begun to discover after a sufficient time in the fandom that some of the fics I read when I first joined and some fics since then have been deleted. Please don't delete your stories, there is always someone out there who likes them. Fics that aren't updated, while annoying, are better than fics that are written then deleted.