Steve woke up to an empty bed. The sun was trying to force it's rays through the blinds, so he assumed it was later in the evening. He sat up and stretched his arms out. "Damn," he muttered as he popped his neck side to side, officially releasing all the tension he had been carrying. He was feeling rested and much better, remembering the headache he was enduring when he originally laid down. He wasn't sure what all had happened since then, but he did hope Soda had returned home. If not, Steve would go look for him and try to fix everything. Reaching for the nightstand, Steve grabbed the glass of water that was there, figuring Two-Bit brought it up. With a dry throat, he took a long drink, letting the liquid soothe and replenish his body. As he placed the cup back down, he turned the clock to face him. It read 10:30. "What?" Steve asked turning back towards the window. The sun was nice and bright. Steve became full of confusion. "It couldn't be..."

Steve got up and headed downstairs. He found Two-Bit, Soda, and Johnny all sitting on the couch eating chocolate cake.

"Well finally up, are we?" Two-Bit grinned.

"Is it...the morning?" Steve asked looking towards the window by the front door. The three greasers eating chocolate cake didn't really help identify what time of day it was.

Soda nodded, "It sure is."

"But...how long was I out?"

Two-Bit shrugged, "It's been since yesterday afternoon. Like 5:00."

"What?" Steve gasped, "I've been sleeping for that long?"

"We didn't want to wake you," Soda said.

"It's not a big deal. Considering you blacked out yesterday, I think you needed it anyway," Two-Bit added in.

"I guess so," Steve said going across the living room and making his way into the kitchen. Turning the sink on, Steve splashed some cold water to his face. He was feeling a little lost with the time, but Two-Bit was right, he did need it and he was feeling fresh. After Steve dried off his face, he cut himself a slice of cake and poured himself some water.

"Steve?"

Steve turned to Soda standing at the kitchen doorway. He was relieved to see Soda was back home. "What's up man?"

"How are you feeling?"

Steve nodded, "Really good, actually."

"Good," Soda sighed, "Steve, I am sorry I hit you. I regretted it right away. I just wanted you to stop asking questions, and..."

"Soda," Steve put a hand up to stop him, "It's okay, really. I'm not even worried about it."

Soda looked down to the floor, "Okay."

"Really, buddy. It's just fine. No harm done," Steve smiled, "What else happened yesterday since I was out?"

"We went to see Darry. They took Pony off all the medicines," Soda said.

"Really?" Steve asked with some surprise. He couldn't believe something major happened at the hospital, and that was the time he decided to catch up on sleep. "Damn, Soda, I'm sorry I wasn't there with you for that!"

"It's okay Steve. It's not like I was there as they were taking him off, they just told us about it when we got there. He wasn't having seizures or anything, so we just have to wait for him to wake up. I am a little scared though."

"I know buddy. That is good though, that's actually great news. It's something we've been waiting for. I'm just sorry I couldn't have been there with you."

Soda shrugged, "You needed to take care of yourself for once."

Steve smiled, "Yeah, yeah, I know. But that is really good news."

"Yeah, I know. I just want something to happen. Why can't something just happen? Why can't the body just wake up like it's been doing for years now?"

Steve looked down to the floor, "Now you know my frustration on not being able to fall asleep."

Soda ran his hands over his face, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"No, it's true. It is very true. If I had the answer to those types of questions, I'd tell you buddy. I'm still trying to figure it out myself."

Soda sighed, "I just...I just don't get it. Why is it taking so long?"

"I don't know buddy," Steve shrugged, "The body is complicating. It'll be the right moment when he wakes up though. Do you want to go there today?"

Soda nodded, "I mean, since Darry is up now I should go everyday until he can come home."

"Yeah sure," Steve tapped his fingers against his glass of water, "Soda, I know you're getting frustrated..."

"I still shouldn't have hit you," Soda interrupted, "That was stupid of me."

"I just...I want to figure out what is going on in your head. Do you really remember being the one driving? Or are you trying to cover something?"

Soda sighed, "Steve, I truly...truly remember driving. If-If I wasn't, then I'm...I'm really scared, because I don't know what's going on then. I don't remember it happening any other way. I don't remember Darry getting into the driver's seat of the truck."

"Okay, Soda okay. That's okay, we can get it figured out. You don't have to be scared," Steve said, "Do you want to go to the police station and ask for the report? Then we can start figuring out if you or Darry aren't remembering it right."

Soda brought his hands up to cover his face, shaking his head, "Steve, I don't know if I want to know. I don't want to know if my brain is being a messed up wreck on me."

Steve walked over and pulled Soda into a hug, "Listen, if it turns out you're remembering things wrong, we'll fix that. If it's Darry messing it up, we'll fix that then. But I don't think living in the unknown is going to help anything. I think we need the truth to start."

Soda nodded into Steve's shoulder, "I know. I'm just..."

"I know," Steve rubbed Soda's back, "Let's go and get some answers."

Soda looked up at the police station as he stepped out of Steve's car. "Sheesh, how can you walk in there?" Soda asked.

"Um," Steve smirked, "I really can't unless my best friend is suffering from amnesia."

Soda smiled as he shoved Steve, "Only you can get away with saying that right now." The best friends laughed as they walked up the steps and into the doors.

"Excuse me?" Steve asked the police officer at the desk he originally went to when he was trying to find Darry's truck. He was hoping this would truly be the last time he had to come here.

"How can I help you?" the officer asked. It was a different officer than last time, and he at least looked like he was in a better mood than the last one.

"We were wondering if we could look at a report of a past accident he was in?" Steve asked pointing at Soda, "It's kind of important."

"What's your name, son?" the officer asked.

Soda took a breath, still unsure about finding out the truth, "So-Sodapop Curtis."

"When did the accident occur?"

Steve thought for a moment, "Maybe close to a couple weeks ago. His brothers are still in the hospital, I'm a little lost on what day it is."

"Alright, just a minute," the officer got up from his seat to go look at the files.

Steve turned to Soda, "Okay Soda, last time I was here they couldn't tell me much of anything, because I wasn't family or part of the accident. You might have to prepare yourself to read it if they make a big deal over that."

Soda nodded, "I think I should read it anyway. I should probably see the truth to actually believe it."

"Alright boys," the officer sat back down with some papers, "Is there anything specific you're looking for?"

"Well," Steve began, "There seems to be some confusion on what really happened that night. My friend here and his older brother can't seem to remember who was driving the truck and how the accident happened."

The officer looked over a couple of papers, "Well, it looks like it was just that, an accident. No other vehicle was involved, no alcohol or drugs at play. It was difficult to determine what exactly caused it since 2 of the victims weren't conscious and the other couldn't comprehend what was happening at the time. When officers arrived, the one that wasn't unconscious was out of the truck, wandering around yelling for help. It was determined Darrel Curtis was driving."

Soda looked down to the floor. Steve tried hiding his happiness and relief of that information. "Does it say if Sodapop blacked out, or what was he saying when the police questioned him about the accident?"

"It isn't really known if he blacked out since he was up and moving around when officers arrived. And they didn't get a clear story out of Sodapop until they were at the hospital. Even there he seemed pretty out of it though, so officers tried their best to put the scenario together themselves."

Steve nodded and looked at Soda, "Do you remember what you told the police had happened?"

Soda shook his head, "I barely remember that night anymore."

"There may be some shock," the office added in, "But, it's a closed investigation, so time may be the factor in when you'll remember. There's also a chance you won't remember, your mind may just block out the trauma. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Steve shook his head, "No. Thank you."

Steve and Soda drove to the hospital next. Soda felt more than just lost. Everything that had replayed in his mind from the accident turned out to be a lie. Even the details of before the accident weren't playing right since Soda swore he was the one that got behind the wheel to begin with. He felt like he had to reprocess his brain's memory, but how does one even do that? How do you convince your own brain that it is wrong? That seemed impossible. Soda felt as though his own mind was to be forever stuck in a false state. He had no idea how he was going to move forward with that.

Steve found a spot to park and looked over at Soda. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know Steve," Soda began rubbing at his temple, "I guess I have to accept that Darry was driving, but...I just don't remember it like that. It's worrying me what my brain is making up. I don't even remember walking around the road. I thought I was like...tossed out of the truck and just landed in the street or something. I can't even try to remember any of that, I seriously remember being behind the wheel. I remember the truck crashing and me holding onto the wheel while it crashed. Why do I remember it like that? Why is my mind doing that?"

Steve put a hand on Soda's shoulder, "Soda, look, we don't have to piece everything together. That might just be impossible to do at this point. We got the important answer we needed, let's just focus on that for now." Soda was silent as he looked out the windshield towards the dull, grey building. "Unfortunately, like your question about how the body can't handle a simple task, I don't have much more answers."

Soda nodded, knowing Steve may be right and he may just be defeated at this point, "Okay. Let's go say hi to Darry and then I want to check on Ponyboy."

The boys made their way upstairs and entered Darry's room. "Hey guys," Darry greeted, "Good news, I was able to do more walking today."

"That's awesome," Soda smiled, "I can't wait to have you come home."

"I'm ready to get out of here," Darry groaned.

"Hey, I wanted to go check in on Pony before we really visit, okay?" Soda asked.

"Yeah, yeah. Go ahead," Darry said.

"So, you're really getting up there, huh Superman?" Steve asked as Soda left the room.

Darry nodded, "Thank God too. I am sick of being in here."

"No kidding."

"The only good thing about being stuck here is I am next to Ponyboy. If I don't hear anything going on, then I know it's all good still."

"Well, before Soda gets back, I'll tell you we went to the police station and confirmed you were the one driving," Steve announced.

Darry nodded, not seeming that surprised that he knew his memory served correct, "How did Soda take that?"

"He seems to have accepted it, but he does also seem nervous as to why his mind is telling him differently and why he can't remember right. I don't blame him."

"Maybe he should go talk to someone," Darry suggested.

"I was thinking the same thing," Steve agreed, "I don't think we'll ever get answers on what exactly happened after the accident, what Soda did or anything like that."

"That's alright, maybe it's better he doesn't remember."

"Hey Pony," Soda said sitting down next to his little brother, "I am really anxious for you to wake up. I know nothing is keeping you asleep now, so all I can think about is you finally waking up." The familiar beeping sound echoed through the room. It helped reassure Soda that a heart was beating, lungs were breathing, and a body was healing. "Darry is doing really good. He's getting stronger, so he may be able to come home soon. That'd be great..." Soda trailed off as tears came to his eyes. "It'd be great..." he choked, "But I still need you to come home too. It won't be complete until you're home." Soda got up and leaned in to kiss Ponyboy's forehead. "I love you."

Soda pulled himself together as he walked back over to Darry's room. As he opened the door, Steve was right there at the doorway.

"Oh," Steve said nervously, "I was about to come get you." Soda looked further in and saw the doctor.

"What's going on?" Soda asked. His nerves began to rise, not thinking the doctor in there was a good sign.

"Take a seat," the doctor said, "I just want to discuss something with you both."

As Soda took a seat next to Darry, Steve asked, "Should I leave?"

"No, please stay," Soda asked, "Is that okay Darry?"

"Of course," Darry said motioning for Steve to come next to them. Steve walked over and stood behind Soda. He placed his hands upon Soda's shoulders and held on tight, preparing for the worst.

"Alright, well we've continued monitoring Ponyboy. It's hard to tell what will exactly happen until he wakes up, but we're concerned about his brain," the doctor said.

"What about it?" Darry asked.

"He may have brain damage," the doctor said.

Soda gasped and Steve tightened his grip on him. He rubbed down on Soda's shoulders, trying to get him to not panic quite yet. His eyes shut tight as he thought to himself, 'Damn, we are so close.'

"What does that mean exactly?" Darry asked.

"As I said, it is hard to know until he actually wakes up and until something happens," the doctor went on, "But, there is a higher chance the brain damage could be significant. He may need aid for the rest of his life."

"Aid with what?" Darry asked.

"Anything. Everything. His brain activity has diminished greatly. He may not be able to talk right, or walk right, or really be able to do anything."

Steve prepared to have to push Soda down, but was surprised when he didn't move.

Darry put a hand to his mouth and muttered, "Damn."

"Just remember, we won't know anything for sure yet," the doctor gathered himself as he turned to go towards the door, "I'll give you a minute to process this."

The three boys were silent for what seemed like a long time. Steve half expected Soda to jump up and leave the room, but he stayed in his chair. In fact, Steve felt Soda's shoulders relax as they sank down.

"What are you thinking, Soda?" Steve asked.

Darry looked over at Soda as well. He could tell his little brother was in deep thought. "What's on your mind, little buddy?"

Soda kept thinking for a minute. "Well, I..."

Steve walked over to Darry's bed and sat on the edge of it in front of Soda. "Go ahead," Steve said grabbing his best friend's hand.

Soda stayed quiet, and looked between Darry and Steve. "This might sound bad..."

"No, no, Soda," Steve assured him, "Just say whatever you're feeling."

Soda sat himself up. As he began to speak, he spoke with a confidence he hadn't had in a while, "As long as Ponyboy gets to come home, I don't care."