Eventually Darry, Soda, and Steve ended up in the kitchen. They were sitting at the table, each having a beverage and passing chips around. Nothing had to really be said. They were just trying to take in each other's company. It was beginning to weigh in on them how they couldn't take life for granted. They couldn't take the people in their lives for granted. Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were a big part of the entire gang's life. Even though it hurt Darry, Sodapop, and Ponyboy the most, the other four felt pain in their hearts along with them. The same was going to happen with Pony's passing. The entire gang was going to hurt. Even though no one would say it, they all knew there was going to be some changes coming along for all of them. They'd take more moments together to heart, and realize the relationships they had with one another.

"I'm glad you're home Darry," Soda said, "I was just thinking if you were still at the hospital right now...that'd make this much, much harder."

"I'm glad I'm home too little buddy," Darry agreed, "I wouldn't have been able to stay there. I would've gotten out of there one way or another. I'm sorry I didn't come to your room last night though."

"Don't be sorry Dar. I think we both needed some time to be alone before we could really try being there for each other."

Darry nodded, "How are you doing? I know it might be a ridiculous question, but it should be asked." Steve looked at Soda with that question, curious if he would tell Darry what happened right after he was at the hospital last. He still wasn't looking to tell Darry about it. He just kept his hope that Soda would be true to his word.

Soda just shrugged, "I don't know what I'm suppose to do next. Our lives were about to be great with your promotion and everything..."

"I know," Darry looked down, "I'm so sorry Soda."

"Sorry for what?" Soda looked over, almost seeming irritated by the statement.

"It's my fault this happened. It's my fault we got in an accident. It's my fault he's..."

"How..." Soda shook his head as he looked up towards the ceiling. Steve could see tears welling up in his best friend's eyes, but he could tell they weren't sad tears, they were frustration tears. "How the hell," Soda choked back, not wanting to start crying, "can you say that shit?"

"Soda, I'm..."

"Stop!" Soda jumped up from his seat, causing both Steve and Darry to flinch, "It's not your fault! You didn't do anything Darry! Damn it! How can you say that to me!" Soda stormed out of the kitchen and ran upstairs.

Darry took a hard swallow, "Steve, I can't help but feel guilty for all of this."

"I know why you do," Steve said, "But you can't blame yourself. Blaming yourself...I'm sorry to be blunt, but it's not going to change what has already happened. And Soda doesn't need to hear you blame yourself. That's not what he needs. He doesn't blame you. None of us do."

"Yeah," Darry sighed.

"I'll go talk to him," Steve patted Darry on the back as he got up from his seat. Darry just shook his head as he looked at the empty chairs at the kitchen table. He already had to get use to picturing his parents not sitting there anymore, now he had to picture one less family member again.

Steve walked upstairs, preparing to have to make comforting trips upstairs many times in the near future. He entered the bedroom, seeing a crying Soda sitting at the end of the bed. "Soda, don't be mad at Darry, alright? You know he can't help but feel bad for all of this."

"I know," Soda cried, "But I can't deal with that right now Steve. I just can't. He cannot hold onto that guilt during this. It's not his fault, and I am not going to watch him push himself back like that!"

"Shh, it's okay Soda," Steve sat next to Soda, putting an arm around his best friend.

"He didn't do anything wrong Steve," Soda wiped his eyes with the back of his hands.

"You're right. He didn't. You might have to let him come to terms with that on his own."

"Steve, can I ask you a favor?" Soda suddenly asked.

"Of course. Anything."

Soda looked down at the bed sheets, running his hand along them, "Can you get my old room cleaned out?"

Steve let a small grin come across his face, "Come on." He took Soda's hand and brought him across the hall. Steve opened the door that lead to a bedroom that hadn't been used for quite some time. Soda took a step inside.

"Oh, you already started," Soda commented.

"Just in case," Steve said entering the room behind, "If you decided all of a sudden you wanted to come back in here, I wanted you to be able to at that moment." Soda looked around at his old room. Some old boxes were pushed to the side. The bed had some clean sheets and a comforter put back on. The carpet had been vacuumed. "So, eventually, if you want to, we'll get your stuff in here. Make it your room again. Or whatever you want to do and whenever you want to."

"Thank you Steve. I don't really know what else to say besides thank you."

"You don't need to say anything. I'd do anything for you buddy."

Soda took some more steps in, looking around the room. He had forgotten what his old room looked like. He forgot what it was like to have his own room. Even though he had shared a room with Pony for only about a year, it felt like they had done that forever. It was so natural. Even though it'd take some time to get use to his old room again, Soda just felt too vulnerable to continue staying across the hall.

Walking over to the bed, Soda began picking up the comforter. "Remember how we use to have sleepovers in here?"

Steve nodded, "On the floor, because real men didn't share a bed." The two boys chuckled together at the memories. Soda grabbed the pillows and tossed them on the floor. As he got down, Steve joined him on the floor, both of them getting under the blanket.

"You know, we use to say real men don't share a bed," Steve began, "But we didn't think about the fact we shared the same blanket."

Soda smirked, "No we really didn't."

"Sorry," Steve laughed, "Had to say it."

"No don't say sorry," Soda laughed as well, "I'll need the laughs."

Once Darry finally got out of his zoning out, he walked upstairs to check on Soda. As he got to Soda and Pony's bedroom, he was hit with the realization he hadn't walked in that room yet. "Got to push through," Darry mumbled to himself. There would be a lot of firsts that would hit him, just like after his parent's deaths. He'd have to go forward with each one. He took the last couple of steps to reach the bedroom and looked inside. The room was empty. Confusion took over the emotional ache Darry was feeling as he looked around. He backed out, closing the door, and turned to find the door across the hall was open. Darry walked over to find the two boys laying on the floor of Soda's old room. Soda was asleep, but Steve was awake.

"This is a view I haven't seen in a long time," Darry commented.

Steve grinned, "Kind of missed it."

Darry looked around the room, "He wants to move back in here, doesn't he?"

"He technically hasn't out right said those exact words," Steve said looking at his best friend, "But I think so."

"He probably won't say it at all," Darry said, "He might think it's a bad thing to want to."

"It's not. If it's too hard to stay in that room, he has to do what makes him comfortable. He has to do whatever helps him."

"I know. If he just stays in here, I might not ask him about it," Darry said having a debate in his own head, "I don't know. Maybe not right away at least."

Steve got out of the blanket and stood up. He followed Darry out of the room, letting Soda get whatever rest he needed. "I know this is a hard question, but what are you going to do now? What do you think Soda should do? Like with work and everything?"

"Well, I still need to physically heal a little bit more before I can do back to work. I'm really debating on Soda going back to work," Darry replied, "We are now in a good place where we don't desperately need him to go back for the paycheck."

"Do you think he should or shouldn't go back yet?" Steve asked.

"Well, I obviously haven't gotten around to asking him what he thinks. I'm kind of nervous what he'll say honestly."

"Why? What if he says he wants to go back?" Steve asked.

"I just don't know if it'd be a good idea yet," Darry sighed, "After mom and dad died though...he wanted to go out and do things all the time. Some people need to keep busy, and some people need to just be alone. Soda's the type to want to stay busy. He didn't have a job at the time though. It makes me a little nervous for him to go back to something as big as work. It's a little different than going to the park, or the stables, or a race."

"Well," Steve began, "I get that Darry. You are right though. Once he gets the slightest bit of energy, he won't want to just sit around. He usually isn't like that anyway."

"So...you think I should let him go back to work if he wants to?"

Steve put his hands in his pockets, "If he wants to, I say give him a chance. You know Mr. Huffman is going to be flexible with him. He already was when you guys were in the hospital."

Darry nodded, "Can I ask you a favor?"

"Yeah," Steve slightly smiled, knowing he may be getting asked that question a lot.

"I know you've been staying here a lot already. I know you've done a lot for us, and I thought I'd be ready to just take back over and let you get back to your own life. It's hard for me to say...but I think I'll need some help."

Steve looked around the hallway, "My own life? Majority of my life is here Darry."

Darry chuckled as he looked down, "I guess that's true."

"Darry," Steve began, "I wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon."

Darry looked back up, "Can you stay here for a little while longer?"

"Of course Darry."

"Thank you Steve."

"I should go get some more clothes though," Steve chuckled, "I'll be back a little later."

Darry watched as Steve walked downstairs and gather his shoes and car keys. He felt incredibly grateful for all Steve had done for his family. He wasn't sure where Soda would have ended up during all of this if Steve hadn't been there, by his side through it all.

As Steve got into his car to leave, he felt his heart drop at some of Darry's words. He was clearly nothing but thankful for Steve. Too bad Steve couldn't feel as good about himself. "If only you knew we almost lost Soda too," Steve said to himself as he placed the key in the ignition, "You wouldn't be thankful for me then."

As Steve got out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked to his bedroom. He began sorting through the clean laundry his dad had left on his dresser.

"Well, decided to come home finally?"

Steve turned and saw his dad at the doorway.

"Hi," Steve said, "Thanks for cleaning my clothes."

"Where have you been? Have you been in some sort of trouble?" Mr. Randle asked.

Steve shook his head, "No. Darry and Pony were in the hospital, I was helping Soda out."

"What happened?"

"Just a bad car accident. They were in comas, so it was kind of serious," Steve explained.

"Are they okay now?"

Steve knew his dad didn't do well with bad, sappy news. He never knew the right way to react towards tragic things. Steve knew that more than anyone, so he knew the way to go about it. "Doing alright," he replied, "They'll move on with what they need to."

"Hmm," Mr. Randle said, not wanting to ask what that meant as Steve expected, "Are you going back over there?"

"Yeah. Darry still has some healing to do, so I'm going to help a little more," Steve tossed some clothes onto his bed to pack up, "I can come check in everyday if you want."

Mr. Randle shrugged, "Not a big deal. Hope things go well over there. Oh by the way, I wasn't sure how low you were, but your medication refill was ready so I got it. Don't leave it behind."

Steve swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, "Hey dad, can you do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Can you make me a doctor's appointment?"

"For what?"

Steve bit his lip, "I want to talk about my insomnia. I...kind of want to see if I can maybe get off the medication."

"What's wrong with the medicine?"

"It just makes me feel kind of blah. I want to see if I can do something else to help."

"Okay, I can give them a call," Mr. Randle crossed his arms, "I hope you didn't stop taking it."

Steve slowly shook his head as he lied, "No."

"Because you know what can happen if you suddenly don't take the pills?" Mr. Randle asked, "The doctor said to not just stop."

"Dad, he said that for if I had been on them for a long time. It hasn't been too long," Steve argued.

"It's been long enough for your body to get use to them. I don't understand Steve. They've been helping you. You've felt better and were having a good few months," Mr. Randle sighed, "What changed?"

"I told you, they just make me feel off sometimes. I'm not making a big deal about it. I just want to talk to the doctor and ask, that's all," Steve shrugged.

"Okay. I'll call and get you in."

"Thanks dad."

"Hey," Darry greeted from the armchair as Soda came back downstairs.

"Hey, where's Steve?" Soda asked as he woke up alone on the floor.

"He ran home to shower and grab some more stuff. I asked him if he could stay with us for awhile and help out."

"Good," Soda took a seat on the couch, "Not good as in you can't handle anything. Just good, because...I'll just like him being here."

"He was here almost everyday after mom and dad died too," Darry put in.

Soda nodded, "I do remember that."

Darry ran a hand up and down his leg, "I want to ask you something Soda. There's no right or wrong answer to this. I just want to know."

"What?"

"Well I have to wait a few days still until I can go back to work. Just have to heal up a little more."

"Do you have to get checked if your concussion is still there first?" Soda asked.

Darry shook it off, "I feel alright. My ribs bother me the most, but I can just wrap them."

"Well okay," Soda said, clearly not satisfied with the answer.

"Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you're going to be interested in going back to work?"

Soda let out a low whistle, "I have been out for awhile now. I haven't even thought about it honestly."

"Don't feel pressured to. You don't have to. I just wasn't sure if you were maybe wanting the distraction, but didn't know how to ask me?"

Soda shrugged, "I'll think about it I guess. I'm sure I'll just wake up one day, maybe even tomorrow, and just want to."

"That's fine. You know your boss has the job waiting for you. I just want to tell you that, even though you're the type to want to keep busy from everything going on, I'm a little nervous for you to use work as the method to do that."

"Why?" Soda asked.

"I don't know," Darry shrugged, "I guess because it's not just going to burn energy how you want. You need to be focused at work, and just be at the top of your game. Not just bullshit around."

"I will be focused Darry. I love working there, and Steve would be there with me. I'd be okay."

Darry nodded, "I believe you little buddy. I'll let you decide. Can I ask you another question?"

"Shoot, ask me everything on your mind," Soda grinned in a smart ass way.

"I wasn't going to ask this, but I want to get it out in the open so you don't have to feel like hiding it. Plus we should just talk about everything."

"And the question is?"

"Do you want to move back into your old room?" Soda froze, unsure how to answer. "You can if you want Soda. You can do whatever you need to with all of this. I don't want you to think it's wrong for you to want that."

Soda looked at his older brother, clearly holding back tears, "I'm not trying to be weak."

"Soda, you're not weak for wanting that," Darry said firmly, "Not at all."

Soda took a deep breath, "I-I think I need to...to go back in my old room."

"That's perfectly fine Soda. There is nothing wrong with that."

Soda looked over at the other end of the couch and sighed, "Why can't he be here right now?"