"Has anyone even talked to Tim?" Two-Bit asked as he tossed a card onto the kitchen table. Soda and Dally sat on each side of him holding their own sets of cards. It was odd playing cards after Steve left. Card games were normally Steve's favorite thing to do, so it wasn't the same not having him be a part of it. No one else really seemed to know how to get past the odd night it was already being though. Soda wasn't acknowledging it, so no one else was.
Soda shook his head in response to the question, "If he knows what happened that night, he's probably avoiding me and Darry."
"I haven't seen him much," Dally shook his head, "Soda's probably right though. He's laying low a bit I'm sure."
"You never heard about this car thing, Dal?" Two-Bit asked.
"I had no idea about it," Dally shrugged, "I know his car got messed with and he got jumped, but I didn't know he had this crazy revenge planned up. I'm not surprised, Tim can get crazy, I mean we all know that. I never heard about this scheme of his though."
"Do you think he's going to try again?" Two-Bit asked, "I know Tim is crazy, but is he stupid enough to try again?"
Soda looked up from his cards, "I wouldn't doubt it."
"Well, he better not get Steve involved again," Two-Bit shook his head.
"Steve better not agree to help again," Soda groaned.
"Are you really still that mad at him?" Two-Bit asked. Soda shrugged as he tossed a card to the discarded pile. "I'm not trying to say what Steve did wasn't messed up, but do you really think you aren't going to ever forgive him?"
"You know, it's not like I'm not trying to move on. I don't like feeling this way."
"You may not like it, but I think it's easier for you."
"What are you talking about?" Soda lay his cards down on the table.
"You keep thinking about what happened to Pony and it gets you mad," Two-Bit explained, "It's easier for you to just stay mad than figure out a way to move on without feeling mad any time you think about Ponyboy's injury."
Soda shook his head. He didn't like what Two-Bit was saying. His personality was not one of anger. Soda didn't stay angry at people. Two-Bit was right about one thing though. Soda knew every time he went back to thinking about Pony getting hurt, he got furious. How could he not? How could he get to a point where he could think about it and just shrug it off like it wasn't a big deal anymore? "I don't know," Soda finally said, "All I know is, if I need time to figure it out, I think I'm in the right to have that time."
"You're right," Two-Bit said collecting the cards, "And that's fine. I'm just saying don't give Steve such a hard time. I mean, he walked out of here like he was a stranger that didn't belong here. That's not right."
"Well, a lot of things haven't been right," Soda said shaking his head. He wasn't sure how much the rest of the gang knew about Pony confiding to Steve and how truly close they had gotten, down to Pony wanting Steve's comfort after a nightmare. He didn't think the rest of the gang understood how that may pose as a slight threat to Soda. "Things won't be right for awhile."
The next morning Pony walked into the kitchen to Darry finishing up breakfast. Pony and Johnny had spent the rest of the night hanging out in his bedroom after Steve had went home. Johnny ended up crashing on the couch for the night while everyone else had left.
"Morning," Darry greeted his little brother.
"Hi," Pony said, opening the drawer for the silverware.
"How'd you sleep?"
"Good," Pony began setting the silverware around the table, "Soda is out. I don't know if he'll be down here anytime soon."
"Well before Soda does get down here, I wanted to ask you something," Darry said taking a seat at the table.
"What?"
"Sit down," Darry pulled the chair next to him out.
Pony slowly sat down, "What's going on?"
"Are you doing okay after yesterday? With what happened to Steve?"
Pony shrugged, and then nodded, "I think so."
"Well, I feel I should ask you," Darry cleared his throat, "Have you felt like, or have you wanted to, go back to therapy?"
Pony looked down at his fingers, "I don't know. I hadn't really thought about it honestly. Are you not comfortable with the thought of me going to therapy?"
"No, no, it's not that. If it helps you, I want you to do it. Do you think it would help you understand things more? You could go talk to Steve's therapist if you liked her," Darry suggested.
"I'll think about it," Pony said fiddling his fingers.
"Alright, just know you can tell me anytime if you want to go talk to someone," Darry patted Ponyboy's knee and stood up to return to the food.
"Darry," Pony looked up, "I just want you to know that I really am doing okay. I know you probably think I'm lost in the head, but I'm not feeling that way. I feel on edge for answers and not wanting to end up like Steve, but I'm not losing my mind over it. I'm more worried about Steve than scared for myself, I guess."
"That's okay to feel that way."
"I know it is. I just don't want you to worry too much over me. I know I freak out when I have nightmares, but my mind isn't exactly straight in those exact moments. You should know that."
Darry nodded, "I know, and I do understand it being hard to come to terms with what is reality and what's just a dream. Nightmares can be extreme like that."
"Yeah. I am okay figuring things out though," Pony looked up at Darry, "I promise."
Darry grinned at Ponyboy, "Okay, little buddy."
Steve got out from under the hood of a car. He grabbed a towel and wiped off as much grease as he could. Soda wasn't working that day, and Steve was thankful that Soda wouldn't see the new damage he had done to his arm the night before. He didn't want to deal with what Soda would have to say about it. The night was long as Steve didn't sleep well. It took him a long time to really calm the anxiety and get to bed.
Walking towards the entrance to the garage, Steve stood for a minute and just looked outside. Clouds were starting to come across the sky. They were darker clouds. "Rain could be nice," Steve nodded.
"Soda, I want to talk to you," Darry said, stepping outside in the backyard.
"What about?" Soda asked as he tossed the football in the air. He kept his eye on the ball until it fell back into his hands.
Darry sighed, "Well, I told Pony that he could let me know if he ever wanted to go talk to a therapist again."
"That's good," Soda tossed the football again, "Probably the best person for him to talk to right now."
"Well, he doesn't think he needs to right now. But he'll let me know if he wants to," Darry walked closer to Soda.
"Alright," Soda looked at Darry, "Obviously that's not all you wanted to talk about."
Darry put his hands in his pockets, "I think maybe you should go talk to someone."
As Steve returned inside the garage, he set the towel on the table, and got a quick glance at his arm. 'Fuck,' Steve thought to himself as he saw the scabs. He turned away quickly, and looked at the car.
"What was I doing?" Steve asked himself out loud, trying to remember the last thing he had done. He took his hand and began running it up and down his other arm, feeling the scabs against his palm. His eyes closed tight. "No, no, no." Opening his eyes, they rolled over to look at his arm again. Although his hand was covering the markings, he could see what was there.
His air supply went short. He couldn't breathe in enough air, his lungs felt as if they couldn't expand. Turning away from the car, Steve leaned against the tool table and shut his eyes. He pushed them as tight as he could, not wanting them to pierce open.
Soda shook his head from frustration. He turned away from his older brother and slammed his hand against the football.
"What's making you mad at me right now?" Darry asked.
"Why are you acting like I'm the one that needs help? I'm not having any nightmares or hurting myself," Soda said.
"You're not, but you're obviously mad. That's just it, you are mad and you haven't made any steps to get past what happened. That's not healthy for you Sodapop."
Soda turned to face Darry, "I have a right to be mad! Did you forget Ponyboy was stabbed?"
"You are holding a grudge," Darry said.
There was a steady sound beginning outside. A slight, cool breeze hit Steve's skin. It was small, but goosebumps formed along his arms. His eyes flew open, but his vision was too blurry to make out the scabs on his arm.
A low rumble slid through his ears. His head spun up and he began seeing the rain as his vision cleared up. His chest still tight, Steve hurried out the garage and let the rain pour over him.
Soda threw the football to the ground in frustration, and walked towards the house.
"Soda," Darry turned around, following his little brother's movements, "We could go together."
There was no response as Soda walked inside the house, letting the door slam behind him. Thunder came across the sky as Darry felt defeated. He looked up and saw the dark clouds taking over the sky. Rain began to sprinkle down. Darry stayed put as the drops became thicker, the rain beginning to come down heavier.
"That's at least refreshing," Darry sighed.
The rain was gone by the time Steve got off work. He had stood in the rain for awhile, letting the cool air and splashes of water get his mind elsewhere than the poison it was soaking in. It made him fall behind on his work, but waiting for a panic attack to pass could have sent him home the rest of the day.
He ended up driving to the Curtis house, unsure what was making him go there. He sighed as he parked his car and saw Soda sitting on the porch swing. He figured he would have turned around and went home, but his hand put the car in park, clearly having other intentions. Getting out of his car, Steve began walking up the driveway, not giving Soda eye contact.
"What are you doing here?" Soda asked.
Steve stood on the first porch step and shrugged, "To say hi I guess. Thought I'd come see Ponyboy since you clearly don't want to see me."
Soda stood up from the swing and put his hands in his pockets, "He didn't have any nightmares."
"I can just come over to say hi," Steve took another step up the porch. He was over Soda being mad. He couldn't keep lowering himself begging for forgiveness. Last night, Steve felt forced to leave his friends over the way Soda acted. It was irritating Steve.
"Darry thinks I need to go see a therapist," Soda blurted out.
"Why?"
"Because he thinks I'm holding some grudge over everything." Steve didn't say anything. "I think it's ridiculous. I think I have every right to feel the way I do," Soda added in, crossing his arms.
"Soda, I know you do. I don't blame you for being mad, I still hate myself for what happened to Pony. But I'm not going to feel sorry for you if you can't even try to forgive me," Steve said walking towards the front door.
Soda walked over and got in Steve's way, "Why does your arm look like shit?"
Steve refused to look down at what he had done to his arm between on the porch and in his kitchen.
"Look at it."
"I don't need to," Steve said keeping his eyes on Soda.
"Why are you soaked?"
"Did you sleep all day? It rained most of the afternoon," Steve snapped.
"Weren't you inside the garage?" Soda asked.
"Do you have anything better to do?" Steve asked angrily.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" Soda asked, "Standing out in the rain during an episode isn't anything new for you. You used to do that."
Steve looked up, trying to keep his temper under control, "I don't get you Soda. You're mad at me for what happened and you are making it very clear you hate it right now, but you seem very concerned about my mental state."
Without taking his eyes off Steve, Soda reached behind him and turned the doorknob, "Trust me, I don't want to care, but you aren't making it easy."
