A/N: Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I hope you all had a fun and safe holiday today:) I'm so very thankful for this board and all of our stories.

~Panda

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail."

Lamentations 3:22

"Hey, little buddy. You missed dinner."

Soda sat on the porch swing, as Darry stepped outside. "Yeah. Sorry. Me and Steve were talking a lot, so I was gone longer than I thought I'd be."

Darry joined Soda on the swing, giving in to the urge to put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "It's all right. I saved you a plate."

Soda was quiet for a few moments, as he laid his head back on the swing, his eyes drifting up to the night sky. "Darry?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it okay if I tell Pony some stuff that I couldn't before?"

"It's up to you what you want to tell him. But like what?"

"The guilt I felt when he ran away. I tried to tell him once, but I don't know. It just wouldn't come. I asked him if he ever blamed me, but he didn't know what I meant. Then, I just brushed it off, like I wasn't really talking about anything."

"If you want to talk to him about it, you should."

"I'm kind of afraid he'll be pissed or upset or something. So I asked Dr. Morgan if he can come in with me one day."

"Whatever works best for you, little buddy. But I don't think Pony will be mad at all."

"I just wonder if he might not like that I haven't told him. Especially since it is something to do with him."

"I think he'll be able to understand that's hard to talk about. You didn't have an easy time admitting it at all."

"Probably never would have if that Valium hadn't made me."

Darry felt a chill move through his body, despite the warmth outside, the memory of Soda's seizure coming back to his mind.

"You okay, Dar?"

"Huh?" Darry's eyes met Soda's, the gaze staring back at him enough to shake the images away for now. "Oh. Yeah, I'm fine."

Soda gave his big brother a smile. "What are you over there dreaming about? Maryanne?"

Darry gave Soda a light shove, before he put his arm around him, pulling him in close. "Nah. I'm just over here wondering what I'm going to do with this kid brother of mine."

"I think you're dreaming about what you're wanting to do with Maryanne on Friday night."

"You honestly think I'm fantasizing about my girl while I'm sitting out here with you, little buddy?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it does sound kind of weird."

"Only kind of, huh?"

"Darry, you know how much I love you, right?"

"Yeah. Of course I do. You know it's not something I've ever felt the need to doubt, Pepsi Cola. Is it okay if I call you that again now?"

"Yeah. I think so. I'm not feeling the same way I did the night I asked you not to."

"What was that about being a kid and not knowing anything?"

"Cause I didn't know Steve was being abused. Even though I was around him all the time, I didn't know anything bad was happening."

"No one did, Sodapop."

"I still remember when Steve told me Clara died, then acted like it was no big deal. He even only said anything at all cause I asked about her."

"I'm sure the way she died wasn't something he could bring himself to talk about then. Hell, I was fifteen and didn't even know her. But overhearing it the way I did bothered me."

"You knew that part, and Mom and Dad knew about the abuse. But I knew nothing."

"You were too young for us to say anything to you about all of that, little buddy. It would've been different if Steve had told you what happened, but I know Mom and Dad wanted to protect you. I did too."

"Yeah. I know that. I ain't saying anybody should have told me, especially since Steve didn't. It wouldn't have been right for ya'll to do it, instead of him. He's my best friend, and it was his to tell, not anybody else's."

"Exactly. And you know now why it was so hard for him to talk about what happened to him, even besides the fact that Nicholas didn't want him to."

"You spooked him once, Dar."

"Who? Steve?"

"Yeah. Cause we were spending the night in the tent in the backyard. You came outside to check on us, and I remember he about jumped out of his skin."

"Clara always came in his room at night, right? So it makes sense he would scare easily."

"Yeah. It sure does. I've known long enough that I should be better about it now. But I just can't stop hating that he had to go through any of that. I can't stop thinking of how he was all by himself."

"Is this what you talked about in Dr. Morgan's office this week? You said there were some things you needed to say to Steve."

"No. I didn't talk about this then. That was other stuff, but I guess maybe it ain't all that different. Cause Steve has hurt alone more than once. There's been more than one time I didn't know what was happening."

"What do you mean? What other time did you not know something was happening?"

"But I did. I just didn't know what he was doing or if I could be wrong or-"

"Slow down, little buddy."

"No! I can't slow down. You don't understand."

"But I'm trying to understand. You just have to tell me what you're talking about."

"I wasn't wrong, Darry. And it was awful. It was all so awful."

Darry kept his questions to himself this time, choosing to simply listen to what Soda needed to say.

"I've seen and been through so much shit. All of us have. And now, I've got a baby coming that I ain't even going to be able to raise. That's on my mind a hell of a lot. I don't want you to think it's not. But I still think about how I came too damn close to losing my best friend, how I visited him in the hospital and listened to him say how sorry he was and how much it hurt."

"It's okay to still think about it, Pepsi Cola. I'd never expect you not to."

"I mean, I feel like I should just be able to look back and be thankful. And I am. Of course I am. But I'm not over it, Darry. I can't get over it."

"I think it's okay to not be over it. I'm not sure you ever do get completely over something like that, especially when it hasn't been a very long time."

"Is it okay to have everything so screwed up in my head that I've made it my fault?"

"What do you mean? You've made what your fault?"

"I thought telling Steve would be enough to make this at least start to go away. But it's not. It's not going away at all."

Darry waited for Soda to say more, not expecting the silence that then fell over his middle brother. "Keep talking to me, Soda. You asked if I know how much you love me, and I do. But you've got to know how much I love you too. That's true, no matter what you're struggling with right now."

"I blamed myself, Darry. I didn't want to. But I did."

"You blamed yourself for Steve's overdose? Why?"

"Cause it's what I do with every fuckin' thing apparently. Cause I hate not being there when somebody I love needs me. I feel like I never am."

"That's not even close to true, little buddy. I can't think of one time I needed you and you weren't there. And I know Steve will tell you you're always there for him too."

"He's said that lots of times. He told me he knew I was there for him that day too. Only I wasn't. Cause if I had been, he never would've taken those damn pills. He never could've sat there in his car or in the house and waited to die."

"Soda, you didn't even know what he was doing. So what is it you think you could've done?"

"Anything but stand there at the DX and stare out the window. Anything but hope and wait when I knew something was wrong."

"You couldn't have stopped him, little buddy."

"The hell I couldn't have." Soda stood up from the swing and paced over to the porch steps, his gaze on the sky that seemed to get darker with each passing second. "But I can't ever stop anything, can I, Darry? Nothing I do is ever enough. I can't stop anybody I love from getting hurt, even when I try my hardest."

Darry got to his feet and followed behind Soda. He gently took his shoulder, turning his brother to face him. "Sodapop, it's okay that this still hurts you. It's okay to be sad that Steve tried to kill himself."

"But it's not okay for me to say it's my fault, is it? It ain't okay to blame myself. I know that."

"I think it's just part of the sadness you still have inside. That's all. And if it's how you feel, you can say whatever you need to. But blaming yourself won't change what happened." Darry put his hand on Soda's chest, feeling the strong beat of his brother's heart. "Remember what I said before about this heart of yours?"

Soda nodded, as he put his own hand over Darry's. "Yeah. I remember."

"But I'm still going to say it again. You have a heart that's so sweet and soft. You want to take care of me and Pony, Penny, and the baby now too. You want to take care of Steve. You want to help everybody you love." Darry leaned closer to Soda, making sure their eyes met, so he could glimpse his brother's soul. "So it hurts you like hell when pain comes to any of us, and you can't fix it. But that doesn't mean it's your fault, and punishing yourself with guilt won't do anything, except help this grief keep its hold on you."

"I don't know why you're treatin' me like some little kid."

Darry walked alongside Soda, the two brothers making their way out the doors of the hospital, where Pony had been admitted for the night. "Cause I have to, so you won't pass out on me next."

Soda huffed out a breath, as he felt the cold night air prick at his skin, then wrapped his arms around himself. "Man, it's freezin' now."

Darry put his arm around Soda, leading him toward the sidewalk. "That's not something you ever even notice, little buddy."

"Well, it ain't like this has been a normal night. I'm not going to pass out, by the way. I'm fine."

"You're still going home, kid brother. Don't argue with me about it anymore."

"But there's nothing else I can do."

"Oh. So that's why you've gotta give me lip when we're both exhausted?"

Soda stopped and turned his head, looking back at the hospital. "It ain't fair we gotta leave him."

Darry gave Soda a squeeze, nudging him forward in the direction of home. "We'll see him tomorrow, Sodapop."

"Will he be able to come home then?"

"I don't know yet. We'll just have to see."

"We just got him back, Darry."

"I know, little buddy."

"I hate being away from him. Especially at night."

"He's safe though. We know where he is, and it's where he needs to be right now."

"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep."

"You need to try."

"What if he wakes up asking for us?"

"Then, somebody will tell him we're at home, and we'll be back soon."

"I still don't like it."

"I know. But, like I said, I have to take care of you too, and I'm going to make damn sure I do."

A cold sweat.

Sheets drenched.

A wildly beating heart.

"God, I feel like I'm dying."

A shaking body slides out of bed.

Feet pad into the hall.

The bathroom light flips on.

His handsome face looks in the mirror, the reflection carrying no trace of a smile or grin, as he turns on the sink.

He splashes the water on his face, its coldness pulling him back from the edge of the nightmare.

"Those tools won't put themselves away, man."

Soda didn't even look at Steve, as he rubbed his head that ached from waking up at such an early hour, the toolbox near him all but forgotten.

Steve signed off on the paperwork he'd just completed, before going over to Soda and kneeling down beside him to pick up the wrenches, pliers, and screwdrivers.

Soda heard the clang of the tools landing against the metal of the box. "You didn't have to do that, Stevie. I was going to."

Steve tossed the last of the tools inside, then closed the top. "Just trying to help. You look tired."

"Cause I am. I was up real early. I just woke up, and- I don't know."

"Maybe you should head home early then, buddy. So you can get some more sleep."

"I don't really want to though. I'd rather work."

Steve saw Soda press a hand to his forehead, a pained grimace on his best friend's face. "Your head hurting a lot?"

"Not a lot, but it does hurt."

"Really, man. I can take care of everything here. Mr. Coleman will be around soon, and I can tell him you weren't feeling well."

"I'm feeling fine."

"You're not looking fine."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore. I can decide if I should be here or not."

"Soda, I wasn't-"

I know what you were doing, okay? And I don't need it."

"For somebody who's fine, you sure are getting pissed awfully easy."

"Please don't start."

"Don't start what?"

"Trying to figure stuff out when there ain't even anything to know. I woke up too early, and I'm tired. That's all there is to it."

"Hey, man. I thought you went to sleep."

Soda joined Steve on the couch, where they'd sat together earlier just after he came home from the hospital with Darry. "I tried, but I can't."

Steve, a blanket draped over him as he rested against a pillow, reached a hand out to his best friend and grasped his shoulder. "I can't really either. Cause it all just keeps hitting me."

"We've gotta be dreaming, Stevie. It reminds me of how I felt right after our parents died. And I know Pony's okay, but when he passed out, that messed with my head."

"I know it did, buddy. Hey, TwoBit was here a little bit ago."

"Yeah? Where's he been?"

"He was afraid of coming by, but he had to check and make sure the kid's going to be all right."

"Afraid? Why?"

"He was kind of a wreck, worrying you and Darry would blame him or something cause he knew Pony already wasn't feeling great even before the rumble."

"Oh. Hell, that doesn't make it his fault."

"Yeah, I know. But he feels bad for not saying anything since he promised the kid he wouldn't."

"Damn, we're all a mess right now, ain't we?"

"Sure are. I've never seen TwoBit like that before."

"I'm so tired, Stevie. I want to sleep, but my mind won't slow down enough to let me."

Steve picked his cigarettes up off the coffee table and took one for himself, before offering the pack to Soda. "It might help if you stop trying so hard, buddy. Let's go out and have a smoke, and maybe then you'll feel a little bit calmer."

"Hey, are me and you okay, man? I'm sorry if I seemed pushy or anything before."

Soda shrugged off Steve's apology, as the two walked out to the DX station's parking lot, already clocked out for lunch break. "Yeah, we're good. I'm sorry too. I was getting awful snappy."

Steve followed Soda toward their cars that were parked side-by-side, seeing his best friend let out a yawn. "Probably cause you're tired, like you said."

"Yeah. But I'd have told you the same thing too if it were the other way around."

"Are you riding with me over to my house?"

"Sure. What else would I do?"

Steve opened the door of the Ford and slid into the driver's seat, as Soda got in the passenger seat beside him. "I don't know. I guess I really did think you got mad at me earlier."

"I wasn't mad at you, Stevie. You were just telling me the truth anyway."

Steve started the car, seeing Soda lay his head back on the seat, his eyes already closing. "Yeah. I was just trying to have your back, man. It's been a long week too."

Soda kept his eyes closed, as he felt the Ford start to move. "Don't know if I even feel like eating."

"You're not about to get sick like you did those other times, are you?"

"Nah. Don't worry. I ain't going to throw up in your car."

"That's good to know."

"I didn't really just wake up too early."

Steve drove his car onto the street, heading in the direction of his house. "Okay."

"I had a nightmare."

"I wondered if it was something like that."

"I was sweating a lot and my chest hurt."

"So what'd you do?"

"Got up and splashed water on my face. I did calm down, but never fell back asleep. It's weird though."

"What's weird?"

"My heart was pounding like crazy, and now whenever I think about the dream, my it makes my chest hurt." Soda opened his eyes, as he pressed his fingers to his chest, feeling his heart's steady rhythm, just as he'd done before. "There's a real, physical ache right where my heart is."

"So they really hired you, huh?"

TwoBit sat on the Curtis' porch swing with Pony, taking a swing of beer. "What? You didn't think my ass could get a job?"

Pony rolled his eyes, as he picked up his Pepsi and took a swallow of it. "I don't think your ass is the one that applied."

"Nah. Just me and my amazing brain."

"It's the bowling alley, TwoBit. I don't think it's too hard to get a job there."

"Well, either way, you're looking at a man with an income."

"I thought I was looking at a Greaser drinking beer at noon on a Thursday."

"Hey, I can be both for now. Cause I don't gotta start til Monday."

"Aw, come on, man. You've got to let me drive you home after this."

Soda barely heard Steve talking to him, as he dozed on the Randles' couch, a partially eaten sandwich in his lap.

Steve popped a potato chip in his mouth and put his plate aside, before sitting down next to Soda. Even knowing what his best friend had told him in the car, he pressed a hand to his forehead.

"'m not sick, Stevie."

Not feeling even a touch of heat from Soda's skin, Steve let his hand drop. "Maybe not. But you're so damn tired, you can't even keep your eyes open."

"'m always tired when stuff's gettin' to me."

"Yeah. It does seem to wear you out, but it can't help that you were awake like you said."

"Was three in the mornin'."

"Shit. No wonder you're dead on your feet." Steve set Soda's unfinished lunch on the coffee table, then moved from the couch to the hall closet. He took a pillow out, along with a quilt, before bringing both over to his best friend.

Soda didn't even protest, as he felt himself being guided to lie down, asleep before his head could nestle into the pillow.

"Come on, Darry. Let's go. I can't believe we're still at home when Pony's in the hospital."

Darry set a plate of eggs and toast in front of Soda. "Eat, little buddy. We're not going anywhere til we both have had a decent breakfast."

Soda let out a sigh, as he picked up the fork and started picking at the eggs. "Sorry, Dar. I just feel like I'm losin' it."

Darry sat down across from Soda with his own plate of breakfast. "I know. But we're going soon."

Soda ate his food, as his gaze wandered over to where Steve still slept on the couch. "We were talkin' about how it doesn't feel real. Like last night, I kept thinkin' Johnny would walk through the door and say he needed to crash on our couch. Or that Dally would come over bitchin' about Shepard or something. But none of that will ever happen again. They're really gone, and they're never coming back."

"Hey, man, listen for just a second. Cause I don't want you to wake up later wondering what the hell happened."

Soda stirred only a little at the sound of Steve's voice, his eyes staying closed. "K."

Steve knelt beside the couch, touching the quilt he'd used to cover Soda, his fingers brushing over the stitched violet letters and patterned squares. "I've got to go back to work, buddy. I'll talk to Mr. Coleman for you, so don't worry about anything."

"My car, Stevie."

"You can get it later. It ain't a big deal. Just rest here as long as you need to, and I'll see you in a few hours."

"You better cut it out, TwoBit. Or they'll throw you in the cooler again."

TwoBit focused on his hands that were pressed into the concrete of the sidewalk, legs up in the air, as he replied to Pony. "Just let me get my jollies, Kiddo. Then, I'll walk, like all you boring, civilized people."

Pony moved ahead of TwoBit, walking backwards, as he turned around to watch him. "It'd be funny though if you fell on your ass."

TwoBit let his feet hit the ground, then stood upright. "Damn, all the blood rushed to my head."

"That's the last thing you need, ain't it? It'll crowd out the brain cells."

"Hey, just cause you've got more brain cells than the rest of us don't mean you get to gloat about it."

"I don't think I've got more brain cells. I'm just better about knowing how to use them."

"So he's still sleeping on your couch?"

Steve spoke to Mr. Coleman, as he restocked the syrofoam cups next to the drink dispenser. "Yes, Sir. I think he'll sleep a while. He was pretty out of it. Couldn't even stay awake to eat."

Mr. Coleman opened a drawer that held a stack of envelopes, handing Steve both his own paycheck and Soda's. "Maybe I step over the line sometimes with you boys, but it worries me to know Sodapop is that exhausted. If I'd seen him like that, I would have sent him home."

Steve tucked both envelopes into his back pocket. "You're not stepping over any line. It's nice to be cared about, and you've known both of us for a while now."

"Tell him to please call in if he's not feeling well tomorrow morning. Even if he's not sick yet, I don't want him to end up that way."

"Sure thing, Sir. I'll tell him."

"I've got some things to do in the stock room, but I won't be long."

Steve nodded, as Mr. Coleman walked toward the back of the station. He had just gone behind the counter when the bell above the door dinged.

TwoBit stepped inside the DX, Pony trailing just behind him. "Hey, Steve-O. How's it hangin'?"

Steve rested his elbows on the counter, leaning near the cash register. "Eh, a little more to the left than I'd prefer."

Pony snorted out a laugh, as he chose a candy bar. "So is Soda working in the garage? I didn't see him outside either."

Steve rang up the candy bar, taking the dime Pony handed him. "Hopefully still sleeping. We went to my house at lunch, and he practically passed out on the couch. He even almost did in the car."

Pony looked out the window, seeing Soda's Chevy in the parking lot, as he tore the candy bar's wrapper. "Oh. So you just left him there?"

Steve rolled his eyes, as he moved over to the shelves of magazines. "Not exactly, Kid. I gave him a pillow and blanket and woke him up for a second to tell him when I left to come back here. I didn't just leave him."

Pony watched Steve arrange the magazines in order, as he ate his candy bar. "I didn't mean it like that. But he didn't want to come back to work?"

Steve made his way back behind the counter and grabbed the broom and dustpan. "Yeah, I'm sure he wanted to. He always wants to work, but I don't think he ended up with much of a choice. He was too tired to do anything."

Pony chewed the chocolate in his mouth, seeing Steve sweep the floor behind and in front of the counter. "I wonder what's wrong. I don't think he was up real late. He did talk to Darry for a long time on the porch last night though."

Steve shrugged, as he swept dirt into the dustpan, not revealing what little he did know about Soda's morning. "I'm not sure, Kid."

Pony started to say more to Steve, only to see TwoBit slipping a pack of gum into his back pocket. "Hey, you've got an income, and you still feel the need to do that?"

TwoBit casually slid the gum back out, then strolled over to the counter. "Nah. Just wanted to see if I could."

Steve glared at TwoBit, as he went to the cash register to ring up the purchase. "You better not steal from in here, man. I'll knock you into next week."

TwoBit took a nickel from his pocket and tossed it to Steve. "Aw, I ain't, Steve-O. I'm trying to carve a better path for myself."

Steve deposited the nickel, then closed the cash register drawer. "Oh, yeah? What's this the kid said about you having an income? You get a job?"

TwoBit tucked the now-purchased pack of gum into his pocket. "Yes, sireee. I start at the bowling alley next week. I'm a workin' Greaser now."

Steve grinned at the pride he could see on TwoBit's face. "Greaser's nothin' but a label now, man. Don't even look at yourself that way cause there's a lot more to you than that damn class rivalry will ever let you see."

"What do you mean there's nothing else they can do? What was he saying out there, Darry?"

Darry settled a hand on Soda's shoulder, both brothers beside Pony's hospital bed. "Easy, little buddy. Dr. Myers was just saying there's nothing left to do medically here in the hospital, so we can take him home."

Soda looked at his little brother, who was resting quietly for the moment, his bouts of delirium now less frequent. "You hear that, kiddo? You're getting the hell out of here. You're going home."

Steve stepped inside his house and kicked the shoes off his feet, as he set both his car keys and DX cap on the kitchen counter. "Hey, Soda? Are you still here, buddy?"

Not getting an answer, Steve looked to see the couch was vacant, both the quilt and pillow he'd given Soda in a heap on the floor. He picked them up, folding the quilt so that the Bible verse his mom had stitched into the green and yellow pattern was on full display.

Steve glanced out the living room window, seeing that Soda was also not on the back porch. He set the quilt on top of the pillow, then started to go down the hall, at the same time a faint sound caught his ear.

Steve went toward his bedroom door, seeing that it was almost closed, the sound he heard now clear enough for him to realize it was a whimper. He opened the door the rest of the way, looking inside to find Soda on his knees beside the bed, face pressed into the mattress, as both fists clutched the sheet. "Soda? What's going on? What happened?"

Soda stayed where he was, his vision blurring with tears, as he looked toward Steve, his eyes recognizing the presence of his best friend. "Steve? You weren't here. You weren't anywhere. Where did you go?"

Steve got down on his knees next to Soda and put an arm around him. "I went back to work, man. Just like I told you. What do you mean I wasn't anywhere?"

Soda reached his hand out to Steve and held tight to his shoulder, needing the touch to confirm reality. "No. No. You weren't at work either, Stevie. You never showed up. That's why I came here."

Steve shook his head, as he began to comprehend what must be taking place in Soda's mind. "No. You were at work with me earlier. You're here because you were crashing on my couch after lunch. Nothing's happening, buddy. That day's over. It's been over."

"But I was looking for you, and I was scared."

"Everything's fine, man. I swear. I'm here, and I didn't do anything to myself."

"But you did. You weren't at work. You weren't at home. You took too many pills, and you weren't supposed to do that."

"I know. But that's not now, Soda. I got through it."

"I always tell you to come to me, that I love you just like my own brothers, but I still almost lost you anyway. It still happened."

"But you didn't lose me. I'm okay now, buddy."

"I didn't know if you were even alive or if I'd ever talk to you again. Please tell me it wasn't real, Stevie. Please tell me it was an accident."

"It was real, but it's over. It wasn't an accident, but you're talking to me right now. I'm alive."

"Stevie, I'm so confused. You're here. You're right in front of me. But I keep thinking you can't be. Cause I didn't know where you were or what was happening."

"I know. I think your head's not too straight right now, but you're okay. I promise."

Soda leaned against Steve, his arms winding around him. "You're here. You're alive. You were just at work. Nothing's happening."

Steve let his head rest against Soda's, feeling some heat coming from his skin, as he hugged him back. "I think you're runnin' a little warm there, buddy."

"You're okay. You're not dying. I didn't lose anybody else. I've still got you." Soda closed his eyes, as he squeezed his best friend, trying to soak in the realness of his presence. "I've still got my best friend. God listened. He didn't take you away from me."