"Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path."

Psalm 119:105

"Damn, that was a big job."

Soda saw Steve come in from the garage, using a rag to wipe his hands and face. "Coleman wasn't kiddin' about that, huh?"

Steve tossed the rag on the counter, as he looked at the clock. "Sure wasn't. But it's done now. Hey, what do you say we go grab some milkshakes to go with lunch?"

"Sure. Sounds good. I could go for something sweet right about now."

"Nicholas, you didn't have to do this."

Nicholas kissed Audrey's lips, before plucking a chocolate from the heart-shaped box she'd just opened and putting it in her mouth. "I wanted to. I knew you'd like them."

Audrey tasted the chocolate, then its raspberry filling, as it melted on her tongue. "I do like them." She smiled at Nicholas, as she put the lid back on the box, her fingers brushing the velvet roses on the top. "You're the sweetest man, and I love you so much."

"Slow down, man. It ain't going to disappear."

Soda drank his vanilla milkshake through a straw, stopping to look over at Steve, who sat beside him on the hood of the Chevy that was parked in the DX lot. "It might. Maybe it's a magic milkshake."

Steve drank his own strawberry milkshake, as he rolled his eyes, a grin on his face. "Yeah, and maybe mine's going to pull a rabbit out of its hat."

"You never know, Stevie."

Soda drank more of his milkshake, before pausing to put a hand to his head, rubbing it. "Damn, I think I gave myself a brain freeze."

"Probably did. You've been inhaling it since-" Steve stopped, as his eyes caught sight of a mark on the underside of Soda's arm.

"What?"

Steve reached for Soda's arm and turned it so that he could see the pair of scratches he knew were self-inflicted. "Soda-"

Soda slid his arm out of Steve's grip, hiding what his best friend had seen. "Not here, Stevie."

Steve laid a hand on Soda's shoulder, seeing how his eyes were avoiding his own. "Okay. Not here. But will you tell me about it later?"

"There ain't anything to tell."

"The hell there's not. You can't be doing that, buddy. It ain't a good sign if-"

"I know that. You don't gotta talk to me like I don't get it or something."

"I know, and that's not what I mean to do, man."

Soda sighed, then took another long sip of his milkshake. "I'll tell you about it later, okay? But there really ain't much to say. You already know all of it."

"No, I don't. Cause I'm not sure what made you hurt yourself."

"I didn't hurt myself. I just-"

"Yes, you did, Soda. Even if it's not bad or it only bled a little or it didn't really hurt, you still did."

"I said I don't want to talk about this here, so please don't right now."

"All right, buddy. I won't. I'll leave it be til later. It's almost time for us to go punch back in anyway."

"You're not going to want to hear it, Stevie."

"Maybe not. But I ain't letting you deal with anything alone. You damn well know it too."

"Yeah. I do."

Steve finished his milkshake, then slid down off the hood of the Chevy, tossing the cup into a nearby trashcan. "But I swear I won't say anything else about it til after work."

Soda drank the last of his own milkshake, his gaze moving to the scratches Steve had seen, as he also slid down off the hood. "You ain't going to even come close to forgettin' about this either, are you?"

"Nope. You know I won't." Steve took the cup from Soda's hands and tossed it in the same trashcan, before he again rested a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "I won't push you to talk later if it's too much, all right? But there are some things I need to say, so I really do want you to listen."

"Hey, you ready to get in on this rumble, Sodapop?"

Soda put grease in his hair, slicking it back, as he saw Steve combing his own hair into swirls. "Hell, yeah, Stevie."

Steve looked at himself in the mirror, before he put the comb in his back pocket. "I know I'm needin' to blow off some steam, and kicking these Socs' asses is just the way to do it."

"Yeah. Me too. After this week, nothin' sounds more excitin' than showin' up and makin' sure we win this fight."

"What the hell are you laughing about out there, man?"

Soda stood by the gas pumps, still smiling, as he replied to Steve, who was standing inside the open garage. "Nothin', Stevie. It's just crazy to think about how much everything's changed."

Steve let the hood slam shut on the car he'd been working on that afternoon. "Buddy, I think you had too much of that magic milkshake."

"Or maybe the brain freeze is getting to me."

"That too."

Soda leaned against a gas pump, his elbow propped up on the side of it, as he saw a customer's car headed his way. Maybe if I keep laughing, he thought, I'll be able to look back and pretend it doesn't hurt.

"Hey, Pone, you stick close to me and Darry, you hear?"

Pony walked beside Soda on the way to the vacant lot. "Yeah. I hear you, Soda. But I'll be fine. You know I'm a good fighter."

TwoBit came up behind Pony and slung an arm around his neck, a beer in his other hand. "Yeah, Sodapop. Besides, you know we'll be watching out for him too."

Soda saw Steve lift himself onto a car that was parked on the street, then do a back flip off it. "Hey, Stevie, save some of that energy for the rumble."

Steve's feet hit the pavement, a spring in his step, as he went to walk beside his best friend. "Oh, there's plenty where that came from, buddy. I feel like I could take on the world tonight."

Darry came up beside Soda and hooked an arm around him. "I want you to stay close to me too, little buddy."

Soda rolled his eyes, even as he lifted a hand to hang onto Darry's arm that was around his neck. "Yeah. I know, Dar. But don't worry. We'll all be looking out for each other."

"Come on, man. You're doing this too much lately."

Soda felt Steve shaking his shoulder, as he dropped back into the present moment and looked around the DX. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I am."

Steve heard the bell above the station's door ding, seeing Soda flinch at the sound. "Easy, man. It's just somebody going out."

"I know that. I don't get why I still jump all the time."

"I don't think you do it as much though. Since you're over here spacing out, it makes sense it'd startle you right now."

"Yeah. I'm just tired of being like that. It's been months since I got shot."

"A few months really ain't very long when it comes to something like that."

"No. I guess it's not."

"Hell, you're a lot better here than you were at first."

"That's true."

"So don't even sweat it, buddy. It's all part of healing."

"Hey, Pone. You just been lazin' around the house today?"

Pony sat at the kitchen table, pencil moving along a page of his sketchbook, as Soda stepped through the front door. "Mostly drawing and reading. TwoBit came by earlier, talking about getting a job."

Soda set his car keys down on the counter, along with his DX cap. "About time he does since he's all done with school. I bet his mom would appreciate it."

"Yeah. She would. Hey, are you hungry? I made a chocolate cake earlier. It's in the fridge."

"That sounds good. It's kind of been a long day. I just need to go shower first."

"Busy at the DX?"

"Yeah. Always is in the summer. I know it helps Mr. Coleman to have both me and Steve around. I like it being busy though cause it keeps my mind focused on something most of the time."

"You mean so you don't start thinking about the shooting?"

"Not just that, but yeah. I mean, I think about it everyday anyway. It's pretty hard not to with my scar and stuff like that."

"Your arm's doing okay, right?"

"Yeah. Pretty much. I still do what Dr. Simons said with the splint and all and try to use my left hand for certain things if I can."

Pony looked down at his drawing, this one a sketch of the DX station, the scene around it peaceful with no trace of what he knew had occurred there, while his middle brother was working alone. "Well, you better go take your shower. Then, we'll both sit down and have some cake."

"Don't worry, preacher guy, I'm not one for revenge."

Samuel chuckled, as he patted Steve's shoulder, the two of them in the church's office. I'm going to need a nickname for you one of these days."

Steve took a seat in one of the chairs by the desk, as Samuel sat down in the other. "I'm afraid to know what you might come up with."

"Eh, I think I'll just stick with calling you 'Steve' for now. So what made you want to talk to me?"

Steve put on his best look of disappointment, blue eyes wide, as he spoke in a soft voice. "You mean I have to have a reason?"

"No. Of course not. I just thought-"

Steve laughed, unable to let Samuel finish. "I'm just messin' with you."

"Not one for revenge, huh? I knew you'd want to get me back for putting you on the spot on Sunday."

"Hey, I had to. It was way too easy, and now, you don't have to watch your back when I'm around."

"Good point. Now, really, what do you want to talk about?"

Steve was quiet for a moment, as he tried to decide exactly where and how to start. "It's Soda. But, um, not really only Soda. It's me too, I guess."

"Okay. What's going on?"

"I know I need to stop thinking about it, but I can't. I'm not even sure I should be telling you about this cause they're his feelings, you know? But he only has them because of me and what I did."

"What you did? What do you mean?"

"My suicide attempt. I don't even regret it like I did, but the last thing I want is for Soda to feel bad because of it. He shouldn't have to."

"All right. Back up a little bit, Steve. You're saying Sodapop's feeling bad because of your overdose, as in he's sad about it or something else?"

Steve looked down at his lap, finding the words hard to say, even though he'd said as much to Nicholas the night before. "He's feeling guilty, preacher guy. Because of me trying to kill myself. I had no idea he felt like that, and I'm not sure how I can help him."

"I'd be willing to bet you already have."

"You would?"

"Yes. I take it he told you he's feeling guilty?"

"Yeah. He's been blaming himself, like he could've done something, but he couldn't have."

"So I'm sure you told him that and listened to what he had to say?"

"Yeah. Of course."

"Steve, you know how important it is just for someone to hear you. And I know you and Sodapop. You'll both do anything you can to ease one another's pain, and that effort means a lot on its own."

"I know it does. But I also know those kind of feelings don't go away just cause you talk about them once and hear how much it can't be your fault. I know it takes more."

"But that's a start. I don't have to tell you how true that is. Just keep being the friend you always are, and I'm certain the rest will take care of itself. You can't change the fact that you once attempted suicide or the fact that Sodapop's grief made him feel guilty about it. But you can meet him where he is in that, so he never has to cope with those emotions all on his own." Samuel reached out to Steve, putting a hand on his arm, as he met the younger man's eyes that sought guidance. "So he always sees you right there by his side and hears you telling him it's not his fault. Soon enough, he'll be able to accept that something bad happened, but it wasn't because he did anything wrong. He'll be able to see that it's okay to accept things were out of his control at the time, even though he did the best he could."

"I don't know, man. I guess he ran off somewhere with Dal."

Soda pressed bag of ice to his cheek, where a bruise had formed on his skin, as he sat on the couch beside Steve. "Yeah. Sure was something when he showed up, wasn't it? We should've figured nothin' could keep Dal out of a rumble. But I wish Pony woud get his ass home. I don't like not knowing where he is."

Steve winced at the pain that came from his ribs, as he reached for the Coke on the coffee table. "Damn, I'm sore."

Soda touched the bandage that was wrapped around Steve's middle, beneath his unbuttoned shirt. "Looks like Dar wrapped them well enough too. Man, we fought hard tonight, didn't we?"

"Sure as hell did. Especially you, buddy. I ain't ever seen anybody land all over a Soc the way you did."

"Cause that son of a bitch was kicking Pony in the head. He was a lot bigger than him too, so sure wasn't a fair fight either."

"Socs don't give a damn. He probably did it cause he knew who Pony is."

"It's fucked up, Stevie. Cause it's not Pony's fault or even Johnny's. Bob Sheldon and those guys shouldn't have been anywhere near them. It's his own fault he got stabbed. When they tried to drown my kid brother, they were asking for something awful to happen. They've got some nerve now, acting like it's on us when they should've kept their drunk asses on their own turf."

"Damn, Pone, this cake tastes like I'm the one that made it."

Pony sat across from Soda, as his middle brother was taking the first bite of chocolate cake. "You mean it tastes like I put five pounds of sugar in it?"

Soda chewed the cake that was in his mouth, swallowing as he again pierced the slice in front of him with his fork. "Yep. Exactly."

"Thanks for talking to me. I really mean it."

Samuel reached for Steve's hand, his own words from just minutes earlier striking a cord in his soul. "Of course, Steve. I like talking to you, even when we're not just joking around."

Steve put his other hand over Samuel's, wanting not only the impending prayer, but also the touch. "Do you ever have a hard time trusting God?"

Samuel bowed his head for a moment, before looking back up at Steve, the divine timing of the question not lost on him. "Yes. I do. Is that something you're struggling with?"

"Yeah. I guess I am. Cause I've gotten to a place where stuff doesn't hurt like it did. I mean, of course the pain's still there, but it's not so strong, and it doesn't take over everything about me. I'm a lot more at peace cause I don't see it the same way. But to know Soda is struggling with feelings like he is, it makes me worry that peace will slip away."

Samuel put his free hand on Steve's back, as he bowed his head, his eyes closing. "Then, let's pray. For Sodapop and for you too."

"What were you two knuckleheads doing eating cake so close to dinner time?"

Soda shrugged, as he flashed Darry a smile. "Getting our appetites ready for all the food we're going to have?"

Darry couldn't help but chuckle, as he closed the fridge that held the partially eaten cake. "Oh, so that was the logic behind how you used to eat it for breakfast?"

Soda scraped his leftover crumbs into the trash, then put the plate in the sink. "Yeah. Pretty much."

The front door opened, Steve's voice accompanying the sound. "Hey, Sodapop! You home?"

Soda was quick to reply to his best friend, as he stepped away from the sink. "Nah, Stevie. I ain't home. I'm down the street."

Steve let the door close behind him, as he came inside the house, then into the kitchen. "Oh yeah? What are you then? A figment of my imagination?"

Soda pretended to think for a moment, one finger tapping his chin. "Yep. Or maybe we're both figments of each other's imaginations."

Darry took a carton of beef from the freezer, as he rolled his eyes. "It's a wonder I don't have hallucinations from being around you guys everyday."

Steve draped an arm over Soda's shoulders. "Yeah, Superman. Keep hanging around us, and you'll be hearing voices in no time."

"Ponyboy, wake up! Come on, kiddo."

Darry knelt beside Soda, both of them next to their youngest brother, who had just passed out in the street. "Just hang on, Pone. Help is on the way." He touched Pony's head, feeling the heat radiating from it. "Damn, you're burning up."

Soda could feel his own heart beating, as he glanced over at Dallas' body that had been riddled with the cops' bullets mere moments earlier. He put his hand in Pony's hair, watching him breathe, before he leaned his own head against his little brother's and whispered to him. "You better not even be thinking about leaving us. Cause I can't do this without you, Pone. I swear I can't."

Darry refused to look at the deadly scene not far from them, as he kept one hand on Pony's arm and the other on Soda's shoulder. "He'll be all right, Pepsi Cola. You've gotta do your best to stay calm."

Steve tore his gaze away from Dallas' body and the blood on the street, as he got down beside Soda and put a hand on his back. He stared at Pony's closed eyes, leaning close, so only his best friend could hear his shaking voice. "The kid's tough, buddy. He'll be awake before you know it."

TwoBit stood off to the side, watching his friends surround the youngest of their group. He fought to ignore the rising guilt in his being, as his gaze shifted to the eternally lifeless body of Dallas Winston. He pushed back the tears in his eyes, as he touched his jeans pocket, knowing the black-handled switch was still in the possession of their fallen friend.

Soda heard the approaching sirens, as he stayed close to Pony. "They're coming, Pone, and they're going to take care of you. They have to." He felt tears roll down his cheeks, any thought of holding onto a tough image for the cops now both lost and forgetten.

"I know we're sitting here cause you want me to talk about what you saw earlier."

Steve studied the cards on the floor between him and Soda, searching for a place to play the last of his hand, only to find none. He tossed the card into the discard pile, before speaking to his best friend. "Nah. Actually, I'm sitting here to beat you at rummy."

Soda looked at the three cards he still held, counting up twenty points, before he tossed them down and started to collect the sets and runs he'd played. "Don't be too sure about that. I've still got a shot."

Steve followed Soda's lead and started to count up his score. "You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to. I'm just telling you the door is open."

"I already know that, Stevie. You don't have to keep reminding me."

"Maybe I don't have to, but I still want to." Steve finished tallying up his points and put all the cards into a single stack. "I've got 170, man."

Soda counted up the last of his score and subtracted the twenty points, as he stacked the remainder of the cards on top of Steve's. "And I've got 155. Damn, that was a close one."

Steve picked up the deck and split it in half, then began to shuffle. "So are we playing another round or what?"

Soda watched the cards fall together under Steve's fingers, before his thumbs formed the bridge. "Um, yeah, I guess so."

Steve continued in silence, the only sound that of the cards shuffling within his hands.

Soda smelled the aroma of spaghetti sauce that wafted in from the kitchen, as he laid his head back on his mattress and looked up at the ceiling. "Steve?"

"Yeah, man?"

Soda's eyes still stared at the textured patterns above him, as he heard the shuffling stop, knowing Steve was waiting for his reply. "It did hurt."

Steve didn't speak until he'd moved across the floor to sit at Soda's side. Acting on instinct, he took his best friend's right arm and touched the scar that remained from the gunshot wound. "You already know how much it hurt me to hear you got shot. The only thing worse than that was knowing you had planned to kill yourself."

Soda lifted his head up off the mattress and looked to where Steve's fingers were on his scar. "Yeah. But I ain't doing that now, I promise."

"I know." Steve touched the fading scratches that weren't far from the scar, knowing that despite their superficial nature, they had still bled. "But this, it makes me think about that. Because it's you hurting yourself, no matter that it's not some serious injury. When you got shot, you could've bled out, and I don't want to think about you bleeding at all. I've never told you this, but it makes me think of something else too."

"Something else? Like what?"

Steve was quiet for a few seconds, before his eyes moved up to meet Soda's. "I told you how Clara died, that I have the image of it in my head, even though it's not a memory."

"But she- I didn't-"

"I know that, buddy. I'm not saying it's the same. Just that seeing you making yourself bleed made me think of it."

"I'd never do what she did, Stevie. I hope you know that."

"I do, man. But it's still where my mind went, especially knowing how you'd already been feeling."

"I- I'm so sorry. I don't ever want to remind you of her or her death or-"

"You didn't, Soda. And I'm not telling you about this for you to be sorry or guilty or anything like that. I just want to be honest. Do you hear me right now, man?"

"Yeah. I hear you."

Steve saw the way Soda's head hung, the look on his best friend's face making him question the choice to reveal the connection his mind had made. "You could never remind me of Clara, buddy. Never. Because you're you. It bugged the hell out of me to realize what I was thinking, but then I told Laura. She said it was just my brain connecting the past and the present cause of how I was feeling. And even though I don't think you would, I couldn't help but imagine you going too far and really hurting yourself."

Soda kept his head down, the carpet of his bedroom floor blurring in front of his eyes.

Steve touched the back of Soda's head, the tears that were visible making his chest almost ache. "So when I saw the scratches today, it made me think of when you first did that and how I know you'd already been thinking of overdosing on the cough syrup. You hurting yourself, even a little, is a sign of what else could be going on in your head, and that's another image I've had a hard time with, buddy."

Soda didn't move, tear-filled eyes not looking up, even as he spoke. "What is? What image?"

Steve recalled the words he'd barely managed to utter in Laura's office a couple of months earlier, as the picture he'd had in his mind was haunting him. He let his arm fall around Soda's shoulders, pulling him a bit closer. "You. After you told me you'd gone through the medicine cabinet, I got this image in my head of you being gone. It was like I could really see it."

"It was like that for me too when I found out what was going on with you and the pills you almost took that first time."

"Yeah. I remember you telling me about that. I had a hard time even saying it to Laura cause just the thought of you dying tore me up inside. So having that picture in my mind hurt even more, and it felt way too real."

"And then I made it worse cause I told you what I planned to do."

Steve leaned so that he could see Soda's face, arm still wrapped around his shoulders. "No. You didn't. Because then, I got the chance to sit up with you that night and be what you needed."

"But I wasn't there when you needed me."

Steve looked down at Soda's arm, touching the scratches once more. "Is that what this was about?"

"Not just that, but yeah."

"What else?"

"Nobody gives a damn about how I feel, Stevie. Nobody cares."

"That's bullshit, Sodapop. What do you think I'm sitting here for?"

"You don't think I could be a dad either."

"I never said that, man."

"But you may as well have. I ain't even good enough to take care of a baby who'd love me, no matter what."

"It ain't about being 'good enough,' buddy. You're not ready yet, just like I said. And you know what? I wouldn't be either."

"I would've thought that if anybody would help me talk to Penny, it'd be you. I thought you'd be on my side in this."

"Your side? There are no sides, man. Nobody is against anybody else. This is your baby Penny's talking about, so I want her to do the best thing for it. If it's best for your kid, then it's best for you too."

"It ain't best for me not to even know my own child."

"Soda, you told me before you know Penny's right, so where the hell is this coming from?"

"It's just how I feel anyway cause I want to be a dad."

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why?' It's my kid, so of course I want to."

"So your life will have more meaning?"

"Because it's my baby, damn it. It ain't that complicated."

"It is that complicated if you say it's the right thing, then still want to fight about it."

"I don't want to fight about it. I just want Penny to understand I don't feel okay about this."

"Did you tell her that?"

"Yeah. I did."

"Soda, can I turn this around for a minute? To get you to see something?"

"I guess so. You'll do it anyway."

"What if Penny came to you right now and said she'd changed her mind?"

"You mean if she decided to keep the baby?"

"Yeah. And even marry you. What would you think?"

"I'd be real happy about it."

"Happy or scared to death not knowing how it's going to work?"

"I'm sure I'd be scared too, but it's like I said. We could figure it out. It'd all be worth it to be a daddy. It'd feel so good to have my own kid and my own little family. Nothing could be better than that, Stevie. Nothing could feel better."

Steve took a few moments to pull his thoughts together, unsure of the reaction he may get from Soda. He reached for his best friend's hand and held it, keeping the physical connection that could both soothe and anchor him. "A baby won't fix all of this, man. Being a daddy can't do what I think you're wanting to believe it would."

"What are you talking about? I didn't say anything like that."

"No. Not exactly. It's just the way you're talking about how good it would feel to be a dad and how a baby would love you, no matter what. That makes me wonder if you think Penny keeping the kid could make these feelings you've still got inside better or make you happier than you've been able to be, man. Especially since you talk about this at the same time you're saying nobody cares and that you think I'm not on your side."

"I shouldn't have said any of that. I didn't mean it."

"I know, man. Don't worry about it. I know you're coming from a tough place."

Soda looked down at Steve's hand that still held his own, feeling him squeeze it. "I feel like I'm going crazy, Stevie."

Steve let go of Soda's hand and wrapped his arm around him. "You're not going crazy. You're just trying to figure stuff out."

"But I feel like I ain't getting anywhere."

Steve felt Soda's head come to rest on his shoulder, not hesitating to keep him close in these moments that seemed so fragile. "Trust me, buddy. As long as you're opening up and getting whatever's in your head and your heart out, as long as you're talking and putting it all into words, you'll always be getting somewhere."