"He told you?" Steve asked his best friend, "He just came out and told you? No holding back?"

"Yeah," Soda shrugged, "It was actually nice not to have to fight it out of him. I didn't like hearing about it of course, but we just listened and said what we had to." Steve shuffled in his seat at the kitchen table. "What is it? That's not a bad thing that he told us."

"No, it's good he told you. But someone doesn't just normally come out and admit something like that. My therapist told me once that a few years ago when I would just spit out things I did or wanted to do, she was more concerned about that than today when I can be a little hesitant to tell her things."

"Why?" Soda asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"I guess when you easily talk about things without feeling remorse or embarrassed or anything, it's a worry of where your mind is at," Steve explained while shuffling the deck of cards, "Pony may have told you guys like it was no big deal, because in his mind it wasn't a big deal. If he doesn't think it's a big deal, he could just easily do it more not thinking anything bad of it."

Soda let out a breath, "Steve, I will admit I feel like he's going downhill a little bit. His nightmares aren't getting better, and now he's wanting to cut after the nightmares happen. What am I suppose to do? Stay up all night to watch what happens after he has a nightmare?"

"Maybe you should try talking to him again. Talk to him about what he thinks about the cutting and talk to him about how dangerous it really is."

"I don't know. You know about that stuff personally. You should probably talk to him," Soda said staring blankly at the cards he held.

"Don't worry buddy, we'll figure it out. You helped me figure it out back then, remember?"

Soda grinned, "I know. You would think I wouldn't feel so lost about it then, but I do."

"Because it's Ponyboy," Steve shrugged, "It's a different thing."

Steve was hoping Soda would bring up Gracie visiting him earlier that day, but he didn't. He didn't want to think anything of it, assuming Soda was just more worried about Pony to care to talk about her. Steve didn't care to bring up her visit to his house either. It was becoming too difficult to let go and forget about Tim Sheppard though.

It was nearing one o'clock in the morning when Steve got up from the kitchen table. "I am exhausted," Steve stretched his arms upward, "That was a lot of fun though."

"You going to crash here tonight?" Soda asked.

"Naw, I'll head home to my own bed. I'll need the deep sleep."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow at work. Are you going to pick me up?"

"Yeah I can. I'll see you in the morning." Soda followed Steve to the door and watched him drive off. Steve wasn't going home though. He ended up passing his house. He continued down the street and taking turns. There was no end in sight to him turning around and going home. The curiosity had a deep grasp on him, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep without acknowledging it.

Pulling up to a house, Steve stepped out of his car. He lit a cigarette and took a deep inhale as he walked up the driveway to the front door. Standing there, he took a couple more deep puffs of his smoke before finally knocking.

"Wow look who is here," Tim said as he opened the door.

"Well it doesn't look like you're going to leave me alone," Steve simply said. He still held the burning cigarette between his fingers.

"Smart guy," Tim walked outside, closing the door behind him. He put an arm around Steve's shoulders and walked with him down the driveway. "Well since you're here, we might as well go take care of this guy."

Steve felt his heart drop. Suddenly the curiosity and need for action didn't seem so important. Now he wanted to jump in his car and go straight home. "Tim, I just don't know if I can."

"Why did you come over here then?"

"To talk," Steve shrugged.

"I call bullshit. Steve Randle doesn't just come to talk." Steve sighed, looking up at the dark sky. "Who is going to know you did this? As of right now, this minute, who is going to know you aren't at home sleeping?"

"Well, no one," Steve admitted.

"Then let's go."

As Soda got upstairs, he opened Darry's bedroom door and peeked inside. Darry's light was on, but he had fallen asleep with a book in his lap. Soda walked in, grabbed the covers and tossed them over his older brother. He glanced over at the dresser drawers, walked over, and opened the top one. Pushing aside some socks and belts, Soda found Pony's blade tucked away. After he had time to think about everything, Darry had asked Pony for his blade to hold onto. It didn't make Soda feel any better though. He knew how desperate someone could get over this type of stuff. He knew how desperate Steve had gotten at times. It was a scary thing to witness.

"Hey Soda, I need your help," Steve said. He quickly turned and closed Soda's bedroom door so his parents wouldn't hear them.

"What's going on?" Soda asked, "Did your dad do something? Do you need to stay here tonight?"

"No, no," Steve crossed his arms, rubbing up and down. He appeared anxious.

"Steve, what's wrong? Tell me," Soda said in a shaky voice.

"I-I need it back."

"What?" Soda asked.

"My blade," Steve said in a low voice, "You have to give it to me."

Soda's mouth opened, closed, and opened again. He made Steve give him the blade. He had caught Steve one too many times cutting, and he took the drastic measure of taking it away for good. He didn't realize how this was going to make Steve act. It was almost terrifying. His best friend was only fourteen years old, but was acting like a twenty-year old drug addict going through withdrawals.

"Steve," Soda began, forcing the tears to stay away, "I can't."

"Soda, please," Steve begged, "I need it. My mom, she's in my head...she won't go away! I hear her talking, but I see her dead! I'm not even sleeping, and I'm seeing her!"

"Steve, just take a deep breath man," Soda raised a hand to comfort Steve, but he smacked it away.

"I need to get away from it," Steve got down to his knees and looked up at Soda, "Man please. I can't do this. I-I need to escape. Please Soda, please!"

Soda wanted to make Steve happy so bad. He knew if he handed over the blade, Steve would give a smile and be forever grateful. But Soda couldn't enable him like that. "I'm sorry Steve," Soda looked over, avoiding eye contact, "I promised you."

Soda quickly closed the drawer again. He felt tears sting his eyes. He could barely stand seeing Steve like that. It was a haunting experience for a young teenage boy. He knew deep down taking Pony's blade wasn't going to simply solve everything, but he had to give Darry credit for at least doing that. Walking over to the small table next to the bed, Soda switched the light off, making the room dark. He exited the room, closing the door to just a crack. Between Darry's room and his room with Pony, Soda sunk to the floor and leaned against the wall. His mind flooded as more memories peeked through.

Steve had no other words. Soda wasn't giving in. He got up, tears streaming down his face, and stormed out. He ran all the way back home. Soda collapsed onto his bed, letting his own tears fall. He knew his best friend was mad at him. All he wanted was help, but Soda couldn't give in. He couldn't let Steve hurt himself again.

As he returned to his home, Steve paced the living room desperately. "I can't do this," he cried to himself, "I can't fucking do this! I can't deal with this for the rest of my life!"

Steve began to hurry for his backdoor. He had his pack of cigarettes in hand, ready to smoke for the sixth time already. It wasn't helping though. It was only making him more anxious. "Why did you have to be so stupid and let Soda catch you? Why?" Steve scolded himself.

As he walked through the kitchen, he froze. Something caught his eye. Glancing over, a cigarette dangling from his lips waiting to be lit, he noticed the sharp knives sitting on his kitchen counter.

Soda only imagined what lead to what Steve did that day. He didn't give him his blade back, so he found an alternative. It was breaking Soda's heart to relive it all over again. What about his little brother? What about Ponyboy? How was he going to handle not having his blade ready and available for his next moment of weakness? The only thing that was giving Soda hope was Pony only doing it once.

"He can't be addicted after only one time?" Soda said to himself, "He can't be like Steve after only one time? There's no way. He can't go down that same road. He just can't. I won't let him."

"Soda, honey?"

"What mom?" Soda asked looking up at his bedroom door. He was sitting on his bed trying to do some school work, but his earlier altercation with Steve was distracting him.

"I have to talk to you about something," Mrs. Curtis said. She sat on the bed. Soda saw her eyes glistening with tears. His heart sank.

"Mom, what's wrong?" Soda asked.

"It's Steve," Mrs. Curtis took a deep breath as she attempted to keep herself contained, "He's at the hospital."