Chapter 6

New guest reviewer (wish I had a better name for you): Thank you so much for your review. It was the first thing I saw when I woke up this morning and it put a big smile on my face. I'm so happy someone else is enjoying the story! I'm also currently living off of caffeine and antibacterial soap, haha. Yes, we are in quarantine. I'm not sure if that makes it easier or harder to write, since my family is home and constantly distracting me. The story is mostly caught up together, though I'm thinking maybe one or two more flashbacks. I'm a pantser (no outlines for me!) so we will see where this takes us, since I've just got a general direction in my head.

I actually work in healthcare, so I'm essential. That means if I suddenly stop updating, I'd like everyone to know I'm busy with the pandemic, but will get back to it ASAP, and won't leave it unfinished. Writing and reading are my stress relief, so I'll stay at it as long as I can. Our area isn't hit too hard, yet, but we expect to be within the next week or two.

Everyone stay safe.

p.s. if you have been following you will notice a slight title change as I stumbled on someone's old fanfic with a very similar title.

(Darry)

I remember that time when Pony was sick, after Johnny and Dally were killed. Things were quiet then too. Like now, almost. But now was worse. At the time, I'd never been so scared for one of my brothers. But those moments paled in comparison to this last week. The stillness then couldn't compare to the absolute silence we'd been living in these last several days. Now, only the incessant beeping of the heart monitor and the soft whooshing sounds break the silence. It's so quiet that I can hear Soda shift in his sleep. I swear I could hear the little drips of fluid as they left the IV bottle and dripped into the tubing.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The clock ticked.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Pony once told me that the silent house was the most unsettling thing when he was sick. It scared him when he woke up and things were quiet, because that's just not how it is in our house.

I never quite understood him until now. He's right; the silence is unnerving. The lack of sound somehow reminds me of everything we don't know. It's like the air itself sits on our shoulders.

My eyes find the ticking clock above the door. 5:30. They'll be in soon.

I let my eyes wander back to Soda and Pony. Pony lay still as ever in the bed. His bruises are faded now, the swelling mostly gone. But his skin still isn't quite the right color. It almost matches the white color of the blankets that Soda had piled around Ponyboy's shoulders. Soda repeatedly told me that Pony would be cold in the bed alone. They were used to each other there.

Even now, Soda slept in that hard plastic chair with his head on the bed, arm draped over Pony's chest.

I looked back at the clock, but no time had passed. I was constantly caught in a state between time passing too quickly, and time passing so slowly that I could feel myself growing older. I pushed myself to my feet, careful not to let the hard chair scrape against the floor and scare my brothers. I leaned over Ponyboy, pushing back his hair like I'd seen Soda do, and kissed him in the middle of his forehead.

"I'll be right back, baby. I'm just going to get some coffee. Soda is here. Soda's staying." I whispered the words, afraid of waking Soda, but not wanting Pony to feel scared that he might be alone. I ran my fingers through his soft hair again, before turning away and slowly making my way around the bed and towards the door, careful to keep my steps soft to prevent waking Sodapop. He ain't been sleeping too good. Not that I had either.

I held the door as it closed, but still the soft click felt loud as it closed. I found myself alone in the long white hallway. There wasn't even a nurse at the desk. I'd see them soon enough anyway. I slowly began to make my way down towards the cafeteria, where there was always coffee, no matter what the time. It was black, and it was awful, but it was coffee.

I stopped at the payphone in the waiting room, digging into my pocket to find a dime. I dropped it into the slot and dialed the number.

I rested my head against the wall. Exhaustion pulled at me and I wondered how I was still on my feet when even my head felt like it weighed 1,000 pounds.

I smiled a little when Two Bit picked up. I knew they'd be at our house.

"Hello?" He sounded cheery even this early in the morning.

"Hey, Two Bit." God, even my words were tired.

"Darry? Everything okay? Pony okay?" I could hear the worry in his voice. Then I heard Steve mumble something in the background. Two Bit hushed him.

"Yeah. Yeah, Two Bit. Everything is…the same." I gritted my teeth against the words. "They're coming in soon to shut off the machine." I gulped against the sudden rock that I seem to have swallowed and tried to clear my throat. "Can you, uh, can you bring that radio up here? That little one that's in my room?" My voice was strange, squeaky even. I closed my eyes tight, but the tears still managed to seep out. Damn, I thought I'd be dry by now with how much crying I'd done.

Two Bit was silent for a moment, but I could hear him takin' deep, steadying breaths. "Yeah, Dar. We can do that."

"I don't want it to be quiet when he…" I couldn't make myself finish.

"We'll be right there, Darry." The phone clicked as he hung up.

Slowly I hung the phone back on the hook and shuffled my way towards the waiting coffee.

(Darry)

Soda sucked in his breath and sat straight up when the door shut behind me. It was louder than I intended, but I held a coffee in each hand and hadn't caught it before it swung closed behind me. He looked around wildly a moment before getting his bearings and glancing at me over his shoulder.

I noticed how one of his hands automatically found Pony's while the other rubbed at his eyes. They weren't bright like they normally were. They were dull, lifeless, and puffy from when he'd fallen asleep crying.

I walked up to him and handed him one of the cups. Coffee wasn't usually his thing but I figured he could use it today.

" 'time is it?" he mumbled as he took the cup. He sniffed at it and scrunched his nose at the bitter smell.

"Six."

He nodded and sipped at the coffee. As soon as the dark drink hit his mouth his lips puckered and eyes squished like I'd shoved a lemon into his mouth.

"Yuck!" He stuck his tongue out like a dog panting in the summer heat. "That's disgusting. Needs sugar." He set the cup on the table next to the bed and I knew that he wouldn't pick it back up. "What time is the doctor coming in again?"

I don't know why he asked. We both already knew.

"6:30."

He nodded. "Steve and Two Bit coming?"

He already knew that too. "Yeah, I called them. Asked them to bring my radio."

His forehead wrinkled and his eyes searched mine.

I cleared my throat. "I didn't… I don't… I don't think Pony likes it when things are quiet." I shrugged my shoulder and rubbed my face. "I don't know."

Soda's eyes slid to Pony's face. "You're right, Darry. He would like that."

We sat in that damn silence for a moment, Soda shifting uncomfortably, before he swallowed loudly. "Tell me what the doctor said again Darry." His thumb was making small circles on the back of Pony's hand.

I sighed. We'd had this conversation at least 100 times since I talked to the doctor last night.

"Soda, you know what he said."

"Tell me, Darry." He didn't look at me as he spoke, but I could hear the desperation he tried and failed to hide.

Dr. West had pulled me out into the hall the night before, just after Steve and Two Bit had arrived to sit with us for a while. To my surprise, Tim and Curly Shepard trailed behind them. I nodded at them as they walked into Ponyboy's room, leaving me standing in the hall with the middle aged grey haired doctor.

I had known it wasn't good news when he looked at me. I could see the pain in his eyes.

"Mr. Curtis," I hated that he called me that, but he refused to call me Darry, no matter how many times I corrected him. I didn't bother to correct him this time, though. Something was up, and I found myself nodding dumbly as he spoke. "You know that Ponyboy came in with extensive injuries. We were very clear from the beginning that things did not look good for him." I was still nodding, waiting for whatever news he was building to. Just get on with it. Tell me. Don't make me wait. Get on with it. Just say it. "He has made more improvements physically than I thought he would, but…there's no easy way to say this…but I don't think he will get any better, mentally. He has not tried to breathe on his own, has not responded to any stimuli. I'm sorry, Darry, but it's time."

Oh God, he said my name.

I was shaking, and had to lean against the wall for support.

He placed his hand on my shoulder, but I barely felt it. I couldn't feel anything.

Not fear.

Not sadness.

Not anger.

Just nothing.

I was numb.

I wanted to feel, but I couldn't.

I couldn't look at him. I couldn't make my brain work.

"We don't want this." I tried to keep my voice steady, but my body betrayed me.

"No one does, Darry. But we talked about this. Ponyboy wouldn't want to lie in a bed the rest of his life, dependent on everyone."

That wasn't fair…he didn't know Pony. He didn't know what Pony would want. That argument wasn't fair.

But he was right. And I knew Pony would say the same thing.

"Okay," I'd whispered. "Tomorrow, then."

He dipped his head so slightly that it was barely noticeable. "We will stop the sedation tonight then, see how he reacts." He looked uncomfortable and didn't offer any further words before turning and walking away.

I slid down the wall and dropped my head onto my knees. I'd failed as Pony and Soda's guardian. If I'd only done better, been stricter, they wouldn't be here. It was my fault.

Soda cleared his throat, and I remembered he was waiting for me. Waiting for me to repeat what the doctor had said. But I couldn't.

"There's still hope, Darry, I know it." His voice was soft, pleading, and somehow also firm.

"Okay, Sodapop." He knew I didn't believe him, but maybe he needed to say it anyway.

"There is. He'll be fine." His voice broke.

I was reaching for his shoulder when the door opened.

It was Dr. West, followed by Two Bit, Steve, and, yes, Tim Shepard. Strange. Tim slouched by the door, looking unconcerned and reminding me of Dally looking cool in a crisis.

I watched the door for a second more, but no one followed Tim. No social worker, good.

Two Bit went immediately to the wall and plugged the radio in, turning it up to break the silence. I grabbed Pony's free hand. Soda still had the other.

"There's still a chance, right doc?" Soda looked up with sad eyes.

Dr. West nodded then gruffly said "I wouldn't put too much hope into it, son."

"He'll be fine." Soda and Tim spoke at the same time.

I wish they'd shut the hell up. Their hope was makin' it harder for me.

Dr. West went to the head of the bed. "I'm going to shut the ventilator off, then pull the ET tube. We will know more then. But-be prepared, okay?"

I nodded. There was no way in hell I could get a word out.

Dr. West reached for the machine, and I heard Two Bit squeak as that fucking song came on the radio.

"There she was just a walking down the street…."