Hi, I'm here! Still updating. Updates may be a little slower for the coming chapters, as things are bit hectic by me, but they're coming.
This is a bit of a pointless filler chapter, but some parts of it are necessary because of what's coming next. Hope you enjoy!
XX
Ponyboy slept for the next 12 hours.
At first, he tried to stay up longer. He didn't want to sleep. He wanted to stay up and talk to his brothers and not have to worry about how his head hurt or how his stomach felt sick. He wanted to get rid of the tired feeling that seemed to constantly fog his brain and pervade his bones. He wanted to smile and laugh at Two-Bit's stupid jokes and hold a normal conversation, without having someone ask him how he was feeling. He wanted to talk to Darry and Soda without seeing the worry in their eyes or the way they felt sorry for him.
But feeling the way he did then - cold and achy - the symptoms still gnawing at him like a biting wind - he had to admit he was still pretty under the weather.
Gosh, but he was sick.
After 20 minutes of forcing his eyes to stay open so he spend time with his brothers, his head began to bob as he fought to keep himself awake. Eventually, Pony couldn't take it anymore and basically fell against Soda's shoulder, surprising both of his brothers, but mostly Darry who had been in the middle of a sentence.
It happened so fast that Soda and Darry wondered at first if he had passed out again. Soda shook him a little to make sure he hadn't and Pony groaned and yawned but didn't open his eyes. Soda smirked looking at Darry as Pony's limp body weighed heavily against his arm.
"He seems to do that a lot when you're in the middle of sayin' somethin'," Soda quipped.
Darry rolled his eyes.
Two-Bit and Steve came back to the room not long after and Darry warned them to be quiet, but it didn't matter because Pony didn't stir. He continued to sleep even as the overwhelming smell of burgers and fries overpowered the room once again. (The Dingo was really one of the only places that was open as Tulsa recovered from its winter storm.)
Soda carefully pulled his arm out from under Pony and wrapped it around his bony frame. Pony didn't stir. He gently eased his brother off him, into a position where he was laying down to sleep. Pony didn't stir. As usual there were a few times when Darry had to play the parent and tell Two-Bit, Steve, and Soda to stop messing around and be quiet. But Pony didn't stir. He didn't even move.
As the evening wore on, nurses came and went, monitoring blood pressure, taking temperatures, and adding more antibiotics, and checking the blood for infection. Pony didn't stir. At one point, one of the nurses came in to prick Pony's finger to check his blood sugar and even that didn't wake him up, though he did twitch ever so slightly.
After many hours of almost no movement, Darry and Soda wondered if they should be concerned. Dr. Williams himself eventually assured the brothers that Pony's movements (or lack thereof) just proved he was sleeping and this was a good thing.
Pony slept. After a few more hours, Darry decided he would take his chances and go take care of some things at home. Neither of the brothers had been back since the blizzard had started. That was already 5 days ago and even though he had already sent Steve and Two-Bit for some clothes and amenities, he knew he had to make sure the house was in working order.
Five days ago. Had it really been five days ago that this whole mess had started? Darry felt like it had been four years.
Darry's stomach turned at the thought of leaving Pony, even as he reminded himself that his brother was in good hands - now as Pony slept, he watched Soda take up his position on his little brother's right side, curling his fingers into his limp hand and squeezing lightly.
He hated leaving his baby brother, but he knew Pony was in good hands so at least he could relax about that. Whether he could relax about how they had left the house all those days ago was a different story, and he knew it was time to go find out if things were ok there. Knowing he could put some of his handyman skills to good use, Darry asked Steve to come along and before they left, Darry reminded Soda that if Pony woke up in pain or spiked a fever, nurses were just around the corner.
The great thing about Steve was that, besides his knowledge of random repairs, unlike Two-Bit, he wouldn't crack jokes or ask questions if Darry wanted to sink down in the recliner for a few minutes alone with his thoughts after a stressful few days.
When they got to the house, things looked pretty ok, except for the fact that it was freezing cold inside as much as it was outside. Someone had left a window open and since it was in the room the boys shared - Darry figured it was probably Soda. It wasn't only Pony who didn't use his head sometimes.
Darry began puttering around the house, making sure things were in working order. He checked the electricity. He checked the heat, which had been left on because if it hadn't, the pipes would have frozen. He threw away spoiled or rotten food, cursing himself for wasting the money. He made sure the water pipes weren't busted or cracked and he opened the cabinets to let the heat in to protect the pipes. He got more clothes for Soda, Pony and himself. He collected another book or two from Pony's bookshelf. (He knew Pony wasn't really up for reading, but maybe they could read something to him.)
Eventually, he and Steve bundled up again to go outside with a broom and knock some snow and ice off the roof so it wouldn't collapse in. There was no way Darry was getting up there, of course, but he knew from fixing more than one collapsed roof that pushing off the snow could prevent its from falling in.
Back inside, Darry sunk heavily into his recliner without even taking off his coat and Steve, who had been following him around the house, wondered for a minute if he should convince Darry to spend one night at home, to regain his strength. When he asked Darry about this, Superman was quick to answer that it was out of the question. He wouldn't be able to sleep right knowing his brother - his responsibility - still lay up ill in a hospital bed, even if Soda (and a bunch of doctors and nurses) were there taking care of him.
Steve understood that and they were back at the hospital after they had both showered and shaved. Darry made a mental note to tell Soda to go home the next day so he could shower in his own bathroom, instead of using the facilities near Ron's office.
They showed up at the hospital about 2 ½ hours later.
Pony was still sleeping.
"Anything?" Darry asked Soda, wondering what had happened while he was gone.
Soda lifted his head. It had been laying over his folded arms on top of the blanket that covered Pony.
"Nup," Soda answered. He hadn't been sleeping. Pony, too, had only stirred once, to turn his position on the bed.
"Let's hope he's getting his rest," Darry said, and he patted the worn out covering over Pony's feet.
XXX
Sodapop sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair, his foot tapping restlessly on the slippery tiled floor as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Tending to his baby brother in the past few days, it had been easier to keep focus, knowing that Pony was so sick and needed his attention. But now things were starting to look better - and you'd think that it would make Soda grin bigger. Instead, it made him worry inwardly about what was going to happen next.
Nobody needed to see his nerves though, least of all Ponyboy.
That morning, Pony had woken up a little less pale and more alert than he had been in days. Though it was obvious he still wasn't feeling well - the way he rubbed his temples proved that - the 12 hours, it seemed, had done him good. The bruise on his eye had faded even more and even Soda thought the scar that protruded along the left side of his skull looked decidedly less scary.
Pony's eyes were still a bit glassy and he complained of some dizziness and a dull pain in his head, but Soda and Darry had squashed pillows behind his back and the back of his head , so that he could sit up and still be supported.
Darry tried to coax him into eating some yogurt that was brought with his breakfast tray, but when Pony said the smell of the food made his stomach sick, Darry vowed to buy him something later, outside of the hospital, that he would actually want to eat. Even if it was just ice cream.
"I really slept that long?" Pony had asked his brothers in that small, sick voice of his when he had finally woken up around 8 in the morning. "Gosh, I don't think I've slept that long since I was 5 years old."
Soda's heart melted at how innocent Ponyboy sounded and he couldn't help but notice the color coming back in his cheeks.
"You needed it, buddy. It's a good thing," he heard Darry say, as he rubbed Pony's head and then began pouring him a glass of water. He added a straw and when he handed it to him, he was surprised (and thrilled) that his hands weren't shaking.
In general, there was something different about the air in the room than previous days. It was less tense and more inviting. The sun was shining. The atmosphere seemed relaxed, like someone had let the air out of a balloon that was about to burst. The ridges in Darry's face looked more even (which meant that he wasn't trying to hide that look of worry.) If Two-Bit were here, he'd make more jokes, Soda thought.
Even the face of the familiar nurse who had accompanied Dr. Wexler into the room for the check up this morning looked less pinched. Her smile was a little brighter.
Of course, Pony still felt bad and Soda could see it on his face. He saw it in the way he rubbed at his right temple, the one without the staples. He saw it in his worn face and his tired, unfocused stare. Then again, he couldn't possibly have been aware of how dire his situation had been just a few days ago, even though he probably still felt awful. The fact that he had sat up along the edge of the bed and eaten a whole yogurt cup yesterday had to count for something.
Darry filled another cup of water for Pony, as the doctor and nurse walked in. Steve was nowhere to be found, but Two-Bit had appeared again, just in time for the checkup.
Luckily they stood in the corner and tried to keep out of the way. Still, Soda was grateful for their presence and vaguely wondered how he could repay them for being so helpful.
He didn't have time to think about it, though. The nurse was already checking Pony's IV and bags of fluid.
"Hello Ponyboy," Dr. Wexler said, still a bit stiff, but relatively friendly, "You're looking better. I heard you slept a long time last night."
Pony nodded as the doctor continued, though he rubbed his eyes "That's a great thing. It's your body's way of fighting the infection. It can be just as effective as the antibiotics."
"Yes sir," Darry spoke up, in all seriousness, "We've been pushing him to sleep as much as possible."
"Good," Dr. Wexler said, turning back to his patient. He asked Nurse Cindy to take Pony's temperature, which was still hovering in the 100 degree mark, a good sign because it was low.
"Well, Ponyboy, how are you feeling?"
"Alright," Pony responded, but he scowled like something still wasn't quite right. This made Soda frown when he noticed, but he didn't say anything, only put a comforting hand on Pony's shoulder.
"Any nausea? Vision problems? Ringing in the ears?" Dr. Wexler questioned.
Pony paused as if he was thinking about how he would approach the question, or if he would answer at all. Then he looked up at Soda's face and saw that his eyes were lined with worry, even though he gave his little brother a small, encouraging smile. Pony knew he had to tell the truth, for his brothers' sake.
"My head still hurts sometimes," he said quietly, swallowing hard, "But I can see ok. Sometimes I get the ringing. Not a lot."
"Mhmm, good, good," the doctor responded. "Well, it looks like you're doing better, Ponyboy. But before I can know for sure, I wanted to run a few small tests this morning. Nothing crazy, nothing that will hurt," he smiled like he was laughing at his own inside joke, "Is that ok with you?"
"Sure," Pony said. Maybe it would be one step closer to getting out of this place. He really wanted to be home with Darry and Soda, and sleeping in his own bed.
Nurse Cindy quickly went to work assisting the doctor. They checked Pony's vital signs - taking his pulse, respiration rate, and his blood pressure, all which were normal. Dr. Wexler had Pony follow his finger with his eyes to check his vision, which seemed to be ok, although Pony was a bit slow in following. Then he asked Ponyboy if he could smile and show him his teeth. Pony didn't feel much like smiling, but he did what the doctor said.
"Ok Ponyboy," the doctor said, "I need you to stretch your arms out, palms facing up and close your eyes," he said. "Here, let me show you," Dr. Wexler held out his arms long and straight with palms facing up and closed his eyes for a brief moment.
"Got it? Ok, I want you to hold your arms like that while I count to ten. You should be fine, but let me know if you feel any pain." Soda took his hand off Pony's shoulder to give him some room. Dr. Wexler held Pony's hands, and Pony did as he was told, holding his arms out and closing his eyes. Everyone waited as the doctor slowly counted to 10 after he let go. Ponyboy's arms were weak and the gang watched as both of them started to drift down slowly before the doctor had finished counting.
Darry bit his lip as Dr. Wexler asked Ponyboy to open his eyes. Pony looked down at his hands, his face turning red.
"Should we be worried?" Darry asked softly, trying not to make a big deal out of things, even though he knew his little brother heard every word.
"Nope," the doctor answered, "His response is totally normal." He didn't elaborate but Pony grinned sheepishly and Soda squeezed his shoulder, though he wasn't sure what it meant.
"Ok, Ponyboy," the doctor continued, holding his hand out in front of the boy, "We're going to test your strength. Take my hands," Pony gave the doctor a funny look but did as he was told. "Ok now I want you to squeeze them as hard as you can. Don't worry about hurting me. And you don't have to do it for long."
Pony squeezed the doctor's hands as best he could. It wasn't a nothing squeeze, there was some power behind it, but Ponyboy could tell it wasn't the kind of grip he usually had. He still felt weak after all, and he wondered if the doctor could tell. His face was unreadable.
"What exactly are these things testing for, doc?" Sodapop asked. He had noticed that Pony had given the doctor some kind of squeeze, but he wanted to know if the doctor was testing for something beyond Pony's strength and how his brother had fared in the test.
"Well, we're testing both hand grip strength and how Ponyboy obeys commands," Dr. Wexler explained, "Both are fine. Pony's grip is a bit weaker than the typical normal hand grip, but that's to be expected with his illness. I'm pleased, all things considered."
Ponyboy caught Darry's eyes and offered a wan smile that Darry returned, trying to keep his spirits up.
"Ok Ponyboy, let's do one final test before I go," Dr. Wexler said, "I want you to repeat the phrase, 'You can't teach an old dog new tricks. Ok? Repeat after me. YOU CAN'T TEACH AN OLD DOG NEW TRICKS."
Pony looked at the doctor curiously and then gaped a little. Why on earth was Dr. Wexler asking him say this? But he repeated the sentence word for word slowly. His voice was hoarse and weak as it had been, but he repeated the entire line without a problem.
"Great," the doctor said, marking something down on a clipboard. "We're all done. You're doing very well, Ponyboy," Dr. Wexler gave out a rare smile.
Ponyboy looked up at him hesitantly. "Does that mean I get to go home?" he asked.
The whole room erupted into laughter. Sodapop squeezed his shoulder and even Two-Bit called out, "Kid's barely awake 5 minutes and he already wants to go home. Can't sit still, can you Ponyboy. You're worse than Sodapop."
"Speaking of which," Dr. Wexler said, as the room quieted down, "Nurse Susan informed me yesterday that you sat up away from the bed. That's wonderful news. But I want you to be fully mobile before we send you home. That doesn't mean you need to be able to run the 50-meter dash. But I want you to be able to remain upright for a longer period of time and take a few steps," he explained, "I'm going to send in a physical therapist soon to assess your mobility. It's not that you can't do this on your own," he added, "but you've had a serious infection, major cranial surgery, and you've been bedridden for quite some time. I want you to ease into it. How does that sound?"
Ponyboy nodded, already starting to feel tired again. "Sounds ok," he said.
"Great," Dr. Wexler said, "One of the doctors will be back in the evening to see how things are going. He paused for a moment. "Darrel, can I speak with you a moment?"
"Sure, Dr. Wexler," Darry said. He wasn't close enough to Pony's bedside to squeeze his shoulder or ruffle his hair, but he gave Pony a soft smile before following the doctor into the hall.
Pony turned to Soda nervously. "Soda, why'd he ask to talk to Darry alone? Do you think something's wrong?"
"No I don't think something's wrong, kiddo" Soda said, more confidently than he actually felt, "He's probably just got some paperwork for Darry to fill out or somethin'."
"He's offerin' Darry some tips on how to push you out the door," Two-Bit chimed in, sidling up closer to the bed. He sat down on Pony's left side, opposite of Soda. "You know we all want that."
Outside the room, Darry stood with the doctor.
"Ponyboy is improving quite nicely," Dr. Wexler began, "His speech was normal. Motor skills a bit weak, but again, that's to be expected. He's recovering from a severe case of meningitis after all. Have you noticed any more memory loss? Lack of concentration? Has he complained of ringing in the ears?" he asked.
"Sometimes he's a bit unfocused, but I haven't noticed much," Darry answered, "He's been sleeping a lot. Which I guess is what's best for him."
The doctor nodded.
Back inside, Ponyboy turned towards his brother. "Soda?" he asked softly, with a nervous look on his face. "What happens if I have to go to the bathroom?"
"Uh...I don't know, kiddo. You think you can get up?" he asked, raising his eyebrows and looking at Two-Bit with an expression that said, 'What do we do?'
The nurse, who had been off to the side of the room taking care of a few things, suddenly came forward. "Ponyboy, you have to go to the bathroom?" she asked. Pony's face turned red but he nodded.
"Well," she said, not fazed in the slightest, "The doctor doesn't really want you getting up before you see the physical therapist...but I can bring in a portable urinal."
As the nurse left the room, Soda looked at Pony, raising his eyebrows and jutting out his lower lip, "Would you look at that?" he teased, "Pony here's getting special treatment. The lap of luxury!"
"Think they'll give me one of those to go?" Two-Bit jumped in, "Get it? To go…" he wagged his eyebrows, squeezing Pony's arm lightly.
Pony rolled his eyes, his ears still tinged red.
"Cut it out," he said under his breath.
The nurse left the room, passing by Darry and Dr. Wexler, still deep in conversation.
"Good good," the doctor was saying, "You should continue to be aware and don't hesitate to let us know if you notice any side effects or anything out of the ordinary. That being said, he's doing quite well and on the road to a full recovery."
"What does that mean for getting out of the hospital?" Darry asked, mentally kicking himself for thinking about the family's financial situation when he should be focusing on Pony's improvement. He wondered if the doctor could feel his dread. "I know we don't want to get Pony's hopes up but you can give it to me straight," he said assertively.
"Bacterial meningitis is a very serious infection and we want to be certain that he'll be able to heal at home. I don't want to send him home before he's ready. He's still on some very strong antibiotics and I want them to run their course. I also want him to be fever free for a few days," the doctor explained, "But he appears to be out of the danger zone and doing well. I think he's about ready to move out of the ICU and to the pediatrics ward." Darry nodded, smiling a little.
"Again, he needs to be somewhat mobile first. We want him to continue observing him for a few more days before we send him home," he added, answering Darry's question, "But moving to a regular room is a step in the right direction."
The nurse eased by them, holding some kind of plastic contraption in her hand.
In the room, Soda watched as she headed into the adjacent bathroom to wash her hands.
"Hey Two-Bit let's clear out for a minute," he said aloud, wanting to give his brother some privacy, "Pony, we'll be back in a second."
They left the room, followed not long after by the nurse who also wanted to give Ponyboy his privacy. Darry and the doctor were finishing their conversation,
"The physical therapist should be in shortly," Dr. Wexler said, "Keep letting the nurses know if there's anything out of the ordinary. A doctor will be back tonight to check that everything is in order."
"Thank you, doctor," Darry said, shaking his hand as Sodapop came up next to him.
"What are you guys doing out here?" Darry asked after the doctor had left and the nurse had gone back in the room.
"Pony's going to the bathroom, so we thought it would be good to leave," Two-Bit spoke up.
When Darry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, Soda quickly added, "We wanted to give him some privacy. The nurse is helping him use some kind of portable urinal so he doesn't have to get out of bed yet. Anyway, what'd the doc tell ya? Everything's ok, right?"
"Yeah, everything's fine," Darry answered, "He was just saying that Pony's doing pretty well and they're probably going to move him out of ICU soon."
"Hey, that's good news!" Two-Bit perked up.
"Yea," Darry replied, but he still looked worried, "They still want to keep him here a few days, though, make sure the medicine is working. I just wish he'd be able to go home soon, these medical bills are going to start piling up," he said, knowing he could be upfront with Soda and Two-Bit since Ponyboy wasn't there. "But we gotta do what's best for his health."
"He'd probably do better at home anyway," Soda replied.
Darry patted his jean pockets absent-mindedly, "I told the warehouse I'd come in for a few hours today in the afternoon," he said aloud.
"Hey, I'm working today, too," Soda spoke up. He hesitated, "I don't want to leave Ponyboy alone…"
"Hey Two-Bit, think you can stay with Pony when we go to work?" Darry asked.
"Can't," Two-Bit replied, frowning, "I promised my mom I'd drive her to work and then pick up my sister from her friend's house. I can swing by later, though, and pick you up from work," he told Soda.
"What about Steve?" Soda suggested, "I think he has the day off."
"Oh sure," Two-Bit replied, "Ponyboy and Steve-O, best buddies," he laughed.
"He'll do it," Soda said firmly, knowing his best friend wouldn't leave him in the lurch.
"Hey, where is Steve?" Darry asked.
"He told me he was staying over at his old man's," Two-Bit replied. "Thought he'd be here by now."
"Hey, let's go back in," Soda said, eager to get back to his brother.
They filed in. Thankfully, Pony was still sitting up in bed, a blanket carelessly thrown over his legs, no portable urinal in sight. The nurse was standing near the bed, ready to head out.
"Ponyboy," she said kindly, "Let me get that medicine for you."
"Medicine?!" Darry asked as he came in, suddenly concerned, "Pony, are you ok?"
Pony shrugged tiredly. "It's just some ibuprofen," the nurse answered for him.
"I told her I felt a little sore," he said softly.
"Like your head? Body aches?" Soda questioned, going into protective older brother mode.
"Yea, mostly my shoulders, back of my neck," Pony answered.
"He doesn't have a fever, so no need for anything strong," the nurse said, "Anyway, it's a good idea so he won't be in pain when the physical therapist arrives."
Soda squeezed his brother's shoulder affectionately, causing Pony to flinch.
"Ouch, Soda, I said my shoulders hurt,"
Soda cracked a grin, unfazed. He rubbed his brother's hair.
"You're an okay kid, Pony,"
Pony swatted his brother's hand away, exasperated by the attention.
"Soda, you're nuts!"