I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used from the book are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton. Apologies as the bulk of this was written in the dead of night when my brain is only working on one cylinder ;)

XxXxX

It took time to heal; healing was a process with some days mending better than others. A lot of it was allowing myself to heal; believing that I was deserving, even though deep down I couldn't see it because I could never fully forgive myself. I never would.

It was an autumn morning—two in the morning to be exact when my youngest brother straggled in from a night out with his friend. I'd been worried sick; thinking the worst had happened but unable to do anything because if the State of Oklahoma caught wind that my fourteen-year-old brother was out at all hours of the night, he'd get thrown in a boys home or a foster home somewhere. It wasn't intentional, but we seemed to be at odds no matter what, and when he uttered the senseless excuse that he'd just fallen asleep outside in the cold with his best friend—I didn't take the second needed to listen more. I didn't want to. I was coming down from my relief that he was safe, to anger that he'd do this to me without a thought of what he'd put me through those torturous few hours of thinking the very worst. The one thing in the world I'd never be able to get over; losing one of my brothers. And I hit him. I hit him hard.

I drove him away, late at night—early in the morning. I drove him away from the safety of his home for more than just the week him and Johnny disappeared after killing some soc in the park. I drove him away and into the arms of a man so unspeakably sadistic and evil that it would take a thousand lifetimes to erase what he'd done to my brother from my memory. And I'd let the guilt eat me alive; never able to let it go. I fed the guilt my heart and everything I loved in my life just so it would stop hurting. I fed it everything until there was nothing left.

I looked down at the photo of the boy I'd only met once before, but whose face haunted me with the aching memories of two boys whom I'd loved more than anything. My eyes stung as they traced over the familiar lines of his face, and the brightness of his eyes as he smiled. It was eerie, as though it were actually my brother's photo. I felt that horrible yearning; my heart open and exposed for God to reach in one last time and end me.

"He's so beautiful," my wife was suddenly there holding me from behind, and I let a tear go. "He looks like his daddy, but he looks like his uncles too. How old is he now?"

"Four," My voice cracked; feelings too deep and powerful to ever numb me made their way to the surface.

I sniffed back another tear as I leaned back into her; letting her wrap me in the comfort I'd always been so desperate for. My head fell forward and I let it go after her gentle coaxing. A lifetime of despair seeped out, using my tears as its vessel while she held me steady so I wouldn't crumble to my knees.

"When are you going to forgive yourself?"

I shrugged wordlessly, and she turned me around so that I was facing her.

"You can't keep on living like this. Find him. Bring him home. You'll never be right until you do."

"What if he hates me? I hurt him so bad…" I struggled to catch my breath. "…he hates me. I…I can't."

"Find him. Talk to him. Listen to him. If after that he doesn't want anything to do with you then you'll know. You'll know you've done everything, and maybe that'll be enough for you to let go."

I knew she was right, but not knowing was still somehow better. Not knowing meant there was still a chance he'd come back to me. If I somehow managed to find him and he really did want me out of his life…

"Find him, Darrel. You'll never have peace until you do."

She was right. She'd always been right from the first time I'd met her. She knew the value of family from having lost her own, and she never once gave up the hope that I'd be able to mend what was left of mine.

Beth had never given up on me. She'd never given up on anyone. Even when I couldn't function because I'd been so riddled with the guilt and hopelessness, she didn't give up. Even when I took her love for granted and tried to push her away, she didn't give up on me. And when I couldn't look at my own reflection because I'd hated myself so much and couldn't allow myself to be forgiven; she was the one to bring the love and forgiveness to me.

"Darry," I whispered, watching the smile creep over her lips before I took her face gently in my hands and let my mouth press against hers.

She slowly broke away from me and looked down at the letter in my hands. It was a letter from Sandy along with the photograph of Jack. I hadn't heard anything from Sandy after Soda's death, but Beth of course had kept in touch. The topic of Sodapop was still painful even though he'd been gone for more than a couple of years. Maybe that's why I hadn't heard from her before then. Maybe Beth had kept it quiet because I still couldn't face the fact that he was gone, but the letter was addressed to me, and I'd made a promise to Sodapop to look after Sandy and his son.

Sandy hadn't asked for my help in the letter. It was a plea to find Ponyboy. It was a plea to find Two-Bit. Her last conversation with my brother had been similar to the one I'd had with him—the saying of goodbyes and the I love yous. But it also seemed as though my brother predicted me shutting down, and asked Sandy to make sure the family stayed together.

"I think what Sandy wrote in that letter is right." Beth spoke my thoughts aloud. "Make the drive. Find Two-Bit and fix this thing. You can't go on like this; he means too much to you."

I took a deep breath with the thought of Two-Bit turning me away like I'd done to him, and my stomach rolled uncomfortably, but it was becoming very clear that it was the penance I'd have to pay. My wife was right; I couldn't live like this anymore. Sandy's letter was what I needed to muster up enough courage to face that fear.

XxXxX

I stared straight ahead at the past while I gripped the steering wheel. I was like a fish out of water; I'd never felt so nervous in my life, not even when I'd proposed to my wife a couple of few years ago. So much had happened over the years; things I tried to control even when I knew I couldn't and just like that it all blew up in my face.

"Are you sure we should do this?" I turned my head, as unsure as I'd ever been about anything. I'd never needed reassurance before, but the weight that was tugging at my insides demanded it.

"He wanted this; made me swear." Her China blue eyes bore into me and I let out the breath I'd been holding.

"He hates me," I whispered to myself as I shook my head and looked down the dirt path that lead to the weathered looking trailer. "He hasn't given word in years. Don't expect much; I don't think this is gonna give us the happy ending you think it will."

"We have to at least try, and he doesn't hate you. Family is everything, and I'm sure he knows that. We have to do this; I promised." She urged.

I felt my hands shake as I placed them in my lap. The pounding in my chest was merciless, and I only wanted to shift the car into drive and beat it out of there. Things had changed; life had changed, and I tried to pinpoint the exact moment in time when things got so fucked up that it became too late for any of us. Our pasts were so muddied and covered in the shit life threw at us, nothing would ever be clear.

"It's time." Her soft voice and staggering beautiful eyes pleaded with me.

I nodded reluctantly and took a breath that trembled as violently as my hands. I opened the car door, letting go of that breath, and finally let go of things past as I headed for the present.

I had a hunch that Sandy and Beth had planned this out from the get-go, or maybe Beth had just gotten to the point where I was worrying her too much and reached out. Either way, a couple of weeks after getting Sandy's letter, her and Jack were at the doorstep; Sandy with her big plan to track down Two-Bit to bring him back home with us while Beth looked after Jack in our absence.

Sandy reached behind towards the back seat to hand me my cane and looked at me pointedly. I was on my own in this; the look on her face made it clear that this was my job, and my job alone. I'd pushed Two-Bit away in my own selfish mourning. He was trying to grieve along with being confronted with the fact that his own life was about to be taken away, and I'd turned my back on him when he needed me the most.

I took a deep breath while I clutched the cane in my hand, and finally took a step towards the trailer. I tried to calm my nerves; the fear of rejection gripping me with every limp. This was it. This was the path I'd been needing to take to get a part of my life back; a part of myself.

I could hear the low hum of a television as I took the few wooden steps that were in front of the metal door. I knocked and waited but couldn't hear any movement from inside. I knocked again a little louder when I heard rustling from behind.

"Darry? Holy shit, is that really you?"

He looked a little older—a little weathered, but other than that Keith Mathews didn't look any different than he did when I'd seen him last. His hair was a little longer, and for the first time in probably forever it flowed freely without any hair grease. He was still sporting those ridiculously thick sideburns, as well as that stupid Mickey Mouse T-shirt he'd worn for years, and I foolishly looked for holes in it as he slowly got closer.

"Tell me this ain't a dream." He asked of me, and I gave him a strange look as I cautiously stepped down from the wooden stairs from the trailer.

"Keith…I…I'm so sor…"

I tried to apologize. I wanted him to know how sorry I was for that night I'd taken off and almost wound up killing myself. I wanted him to know that I was sorry for not standing by him; for not helping him out when he needed me. After all the shit I'd been through, he'd stood beside me or behind me to keep me going, and I wanted to apologize for not offering the same friendship in return.

I'd let so much time go by. I wanted to apologize for being so wrapped up in my own grief that I didn't make the effort to find him sooner, but in a flash, we were hugging the daylights out of each other, and nothing else past or present seemed to matter.

"I'm so sorry," I managed to choke out, but Two-Bit just laughed that crazy laugh of his.

"What the hell you sorry for? God damn, Darry Curtis! They told me you were dead! God damn it! I was so stupid to believe it. I was so damned stupid!" He half-laughed, half-cried as he clutched on to me.

"C'mon, Two-Bit." I pulled back from him and shrugged. "Bullets bounce offa me."

"Sounds about right, Superman. Sounds about right!" He chuckled before we stood there hugging again.

And just like that, he forgave me. Because that's what families do, and I'd known it way before Sandy and Beth all but begged me to make the trek up north to find Two-Bit. It was the reason why I couldn't find peace. He was my brother. He would always be my brother whether or not we had different DNA.

I felt a piece of who I was slide into place as we stood there with our arms tangled around each other, but the wind began to pick up; managing to blow through my bones giving me an eerie chill way down to my core. I didn't even know what to say to him; so much past between us and so much time had gone by.

"You're here for him—I shoulda known you'd pull this off. I ain't you or Sodapop, Darry. He's in a bit of a mess but I want you to know I've been doin' everything I can. He's a little overdue for a bath, but other than that…"

"What are you talkin' about? You get a dog, Two-Bit?" I grinned, not understanding in the slightest until he looked at me soberly.

"The kid, Darry." He said as he nodded towards the trailer.

I stared blankly at Two-Bit as I struggled to let his words register. My breath trembled as I took in that sharp intake of air, and I didn't have to explain anything because Two-Bit knew. He knew me. He was family and he'd been there covering my back and helping me through every struggle I had to face as an adult trying to raise a teenaged boy.

"He's different now, Darry. He never really recovered; brain damage and all, but when the State started poking around—there was no fucking way they were gonna get their hands on him again. When we heard you weren't gonna make it…"

"We?" I looked at Two-Bit; my hands starting to shake as the pieces of the story started to unfold.

"Greg," Two-Bit answered, and things started to become clear.

"Greg," I nodded as the world began to blur, and my friend placed a steady hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah. He's a great guy, Darry but I knew it was my job to take care of Ponyboy if you were gone. But I had the fuckin' army breathin' down my back, and after losin' Soda there was no way…" Two-Bit took an unsteady breath. "I wasn't gonna fight in that goddamned war, Darry. Greg…it was a hair-brained scheme to come up here, but I'm out of it all. It saved me from gettin' my nuts shot off in the jungle. It ain't much, but we're alive and safe. We're makin' it work."

I nodded as I tried to digest what Two-Bit was saying to me, and it all just made sense. I knew in my heart all along that Greg had pulled the strings to make sure my brother stayed safe, and he'd kept Two-Bit safe in the process. If there was such a thing as guardian angels, Greg had been mine all along. I owed my life to Dr. Greg Allain.

"It's unlocked," Two-Bit cocked his head toward the door. "Go on in, Darry. Just…he…he ain't the same. I did everything I knew how, Darry but I ain't you or Sodapop."

I nodded as I pet the back of Two-Bit's head; telling him without words that what he'd done for my brother was more than enough. I felt my own anxiety of not knowing just what sort of condition Ponyboy was in by the way Two-Bit was talking, and also the excitement of being reunited with my brother after all this time.

Two-Bit noticed my nervousness, breaking my contact with him by gently shoving me towards the trailer. I nodded and made my way back up those steps and took a deep breath before I opened the door.

I didn't notice him at first. The entrance spit me into a small kitchen whose tidiness didn't go unnoticed. I thought for a moment about the last home I'd pulled my brother out of, and felt thankful. Even though the separation from Pony was excruciating at best, I was nothing but relieved that he was safe with Two-Bit and Greg's care.

I slipped my feet out of my boots and followed the sound of the television. There was a narrow opening from the kitchen to where I noticed a sofa, and then stared at the lump where someone was laying down, all wrapped up in a comforter.

I choked on a sob as I finally neared him; using my cane to ease down to my knees while I leaned over to press my face against the side of his head. His reddish-brown hair was clipped short and displayed the scars on the right side of his skull proudly. His face still retained most of its roundness, and although he looked younger than his now nineteen years, he looked exactly like Sodapop had the last time I'd seen him.

The joy I felt for finally being with my little brother was suddenly shadowed by the fact that it had just taken so fucking long. There were moments we'd never get back; the pain and longing from not having each other leaving its permanent mark. And the guilt I'd held onto for not doing more, found me clutching onto Ponyboy as though he were about to be ripped away from me again.

"I'm so sorry!"

My cries were muffled in his chest, as I held onto him possessively. The journey had been long and drawn out, and part of me couldn't even imagine it finally being over. My goal had been to find an estranged friend, but what I'd found was so much more than I could've ever hoped for, and as I squeezed Ponyboy even closer I felt another piece of me click into place.

"Shhhh…it's okay, Darry." Two-Bit was suddenly kneeling next to me. "Ain't nobody blaming you for anything."

"I shoulda listened to you that night."

"You did, Darry. You did listen, and a train hit ya for your troubles. Y'know come to think of it, you shoulda just headed over to Checkers and got shitfaced."

My head shot up and I looked at Two-Bit incredulously while my arms were still tangled around my brother.

"You didn't take that drink, did ya Darry? You headed straight for home, didn't ya?"

I nodded; still looking at Two-Bit like he was off his rocker.

"And you got hit by a train for doin' the right thing. Christ, Darry! They oughta write a country song about you!"

I shook my head at him unbelievingly, but then chuckled at the irony.

"He ain't grown at all, if you wanna squeeze yourself in there." Two-Bit motioned to the sofa with his head. "He looks just like him, don't he?"

"Soda'd be so tickled if he could see him. God damned spittin' image." I grinned proudly, easing one arm from around him so that I could drag a hand down and around his face.

"He ain't talked, Darry. Just lays there. I'm sorry, Darry. We've been doing everything; it just doesn't seem to help."

"Shhhh…" My hand continued to stroke Pony's face. "It's okay, Keith. Ain't your fault."

"Like I said, he's a bit overdue for a bath. I usually wait for Greg to come around; it's easier to get him in the tub when I have help."

"It's okay, I can do it." I mumbled as I tugged at the comforter around my brother, and then shoved my free arm underneath him to adjust him on the sofa.

"Yeah," Two-Bit grinned as he watched me slip halfway underneath my brother so I could just lay close to him. "You okay there, Superman?"

"More than." I smiled before pressing my mouth against the top of Pony's head.

It took about ten seconds before I could feel the change. Pony's head sank into my shoulder while I could feel the rest of his body melt into mine. I thought about my wedding day; the waves from the Pacific and how they rolled over my bare feet, leaving a sense of peace behind as they melted back into the sea. It felt like I was being washed out myself as a calmness spread throughout me while I laid there with my baby brother.

My heart clenched when his right hand moved up to grab onto my shirt, and I pulled him even closer to me while I kissed his head. I knew what to do, as though no time had passed. Just being there on that sofa with him grounded me. I'd seen him do it to Soda a million times; press his face into Sodapop's cheek or neck while grabbing on. It didn't matter what his diagnosis was. I knew that Ponyboy knew I was there.

"He knows." Two-Bit spoke my own thoughts out loud.

"Yep," I smiled as I stretched out to a more comfortable position on Two-Bit's sofa. "Everything's gonna be alright now. I'm here; I ain't leavin' without ya, baby."

"Man, I gotta call Greg. He's gonna shit himself when he sees you're here."

Two-Bit scrambled to his feet to head towards his phone, and it dawned on me that Sandy was still waiting in the car. I had no intention of getting up or letting go of the hold I had on my brother.

"You might wanna invite Sandy in. She's still in the car."

"Sandy? Like, Sandy Sandy? Soda's Sandy? Why the hell is she here?"

"Was her idea to make the drive to come get you." My words started to slur as I found myself exhausted from the drive and all of the emotions still coursing through me. "Be a pal, and invite her in Keith."

"Will do, Superman. Have your nap. We'll talk about what I'm gonna feed you guys later, okay?"

I sighed as I nodded, and closed my eyes to hunker down closer to my brother. It had been so long, but being curled up with him felt the same. It felt like home, even though we were two thousand miles away from Tulsa.

XxXxX