Hey everyone! It's been a while, but yes, I have been writing Blizzard. I wish I could have published it sooner, but I don't have the same kind of time that I used to.
Thank you for your friendship and your beta reading: Indianagreaser, A little jem, MarandaW
And to all of the readers, patience.
And now, I give you the longest chapter I've written since I began the story. Hope you like it.
When Soda, Two-Bit, and Darry came back into the room, the first thing Darry told Ponyboy was that the doctor had told him the physical therapist was going to be in soon. The thought of PT made Pony's heart pound a little bit - and he didn't know why - although he could guess he was both nervous and just a little afraid of what his brothers would do when they found it he wasn't telling them about all of his aches and pains. Although, he had been fairly upfront about most of them.
Then there was the fact that he had been in bed for days and suddenly they were going to try to make him move. Maybe even make him walk. The day before he had done something like that - had tried to stand by himself - and he had fallen. What made them think he would succeed now? If meningitis could cause fluid to collect around his brain, there's no reason it couldn't cause his muscles to waste away. And if sepsis could make his organs begin to shut down - - that's what Darry had said anyway - there's no telling how bad off he would be if he tried to take a step.
His hands trembled with the thought. Soda, immediately figuring out that something was wrong, caught one of them and held it with his, squeezing his fingers gently for comfort and rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. Then he put his other hand on his brother's shoulder. "Pony, what's the matter?" he asked.
"Nothing," Pony mumbled, but he turned his face away from his brother as his breath quickened, so he wouldn't have to look at his concerned stare.
He just had to remind himself to keep breathing, even when it all felt like a lot.
Little did he know that Soda felt the same way. The last time he had felt this worried, he had had a full-blown panic attack - and as he remembered, just a few days ago his breathing had become shallow and his throat had almost completely closed up. This could very well lead to the same outcome.
But that attack had been warranted, as Pony's life had hung precariously in the balance. He had had every reason to come unglued a little bit. So what was the excuse now? It was just physical therapy? And so far Pony had shown significant signs of improvement.
Soda flinched internally. He couldn't let his little brother see it, though. Ponyboy was improving, and he had to keep it that way. And right now something else was bothering him.
"Pony?" he asked again, aware that something was off. His questioning made Darry turn around as well. "What's wrong?"
"I'm just - well what if I can't walk? I couldn't even stand yesterday. Remember how I fell? What if it happens again?"
"You'll be fine," Darry responded matter-of-factly, if not a little too quickly. That made Pony's heart sink a little bit, although he knew his oldest brother would swoop in if he had to like - well, like Superman. Pony turned to Sodapop, his eyes pleading.
Soda had the better answer, of course. "You ain't gotta worry about that, kiddo. They'll start slow. They're not gonna make you do anything you're not ready for, you know?"
He was grateful Pony couldn't see how he was wringing his own hands in his lap.
"Shoot, kid, I'll just let you borrow my walking stick, no sweat," Two-Bit blurted out.
Ponyboy grinned broadly, "What walking stick?"
Never one to miss an opportunity, Two-Bit jumped up, bending over like a hunchback and grabbing his back with one hand as he pretended to walk using a cane with the other.
"Oh yeah," Pony quipped, "I forgot you're an old man," he called out as Two-Bit laughed and hobbled around the room with his imaginary cane.
"What's that you say, sonny?" Two-Bit said in an old man's voice that sounded like he had no teeth, "I'm only hearing out of one good ear these days." He put his hand up to his right ear like he was genuinely trying to listen.
But that didn't last long. In the next moment, Two-Bit stopped and cocked one eyebrow up and the other down, going back to his normal voice as he turned to Pony, "Brother, you're a sharp one. I'm still in high school, remember?"
"Ain't you the oldest kid there? Heck ain't you older than my biology teacher?!" Pony teased. Soda smiled, watching his brother's eyes crinkle with laughter.
"Whoo whee, Sodapop, your brother's sure got a mouth on him," Two-Bit chortled, winking,"For someone so ill, you sure are witty. Ponyboy Curtis!"
Soda and Darry weren't even attempting to hide their laughter by now.
"Just don't stay there forever," Darry muttered to his friend as Soda swatted Two-Bit on the back of his head.
"Ponyboy?"
All heads in the room snapped to attention.
A woman stood in the doorway. She looked younger than Darry with her smooth porcelain skin and friendly smile, but stood with the confidence of someone who was the master of her craft. She wore a pressed uniform and had her strawberry blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. There was something easy and confident about her, but not conceited or unfriendly.
Pony's scowl deepened a bit, but the woman didn't seem deterred as she entered the room without waiting for his answer.
"Hi Ponyboy," she said, stepping closer to stand next to Two-Bit on Pony's left side, "I'm Claire. I'm a physical therapist here at Tulsa General."
Pony's face heated up as he realized the guys were all checking her out - she was a pretty girl after all and the only other women they had seen in the past few days were middle-aged nurses. The girl knew it, too, Pony could tell by the way she looked up carefully at the others - especially at Soda - and didn't even bat an eyelash. Even though he was used to it by now, it made Pony sigh with relief.
"Wow, we've got quite the crowd in here today. I bet you didn't plan on being the star of the show when you came to the hospital," she grinned sweetly, "Guess you've got a lot of people in your corner, Ponyboy. Can you introduce me to everyone?
Cutting an imposing figure as always, Darry immediately went up to her first pulling out his hand to shake hers. "Hi, I'm Darry, Pony's older brother," he said, before pointing to Soda. "That's Sodapop, our other brother," Sodapop smiled and waved in his charming manner, "And that's our friend Keith Matthews." Pony shook his head in embarrassment when Two-Bit literally saluted her. Two-Bit didn't notice, of course.
"Ahh Darry, I've heard about you. You're the one in charge of the boys here," she said, pointing to the others
"Heard about me?" his eyebrows furrowed.
"I talked to Dr. Reed and Dr. Wexler," she answered.
"Dr. Ree-you mean Ron?" he realized.
"Yes, Ron," she replied, "Your reputation precedes you," she joked. He gave her a funny look. "That's not a bad thing," she added quickly, almost as an afterthought, but her look was concentrated on Pony, as she moved closer to be near her patient's side.
"So Ponyboy...that's an original name. Might be the most original one I"ve ever heard," she said, holding her clipboard against her chest.
He grinned half-heartedly. "Bet you never met a guy named Sodapop," he said pointing a thumb at his brother.
Claire looked over at Soda and he threw her his megawatt smile, "At your service," he said.
"Nope, can't say that I have," she grinned back, as all the girls always did.
Gosh she was pretty, Sodapop thought. Had this been any other place at any other time, he probably would have used every line in the book to flirt with her, like he always did with pretty girls. But this wasn't just any place and any time.
This was a hospital room for his sick baby brother. When Soda shot a glance at him, he noticed Ponyboy looked nervous and scared. No, this wasn't about him. This was about making his little brother feel better. He wondered if Pony felt like he did, insides all mixed up with worry. Soda put a hand on his shoulder and rubbed gently, trying to help him relax.
He smiled, though, when he realized Claire was trying very hard to make Pony feel at ease. He hoped this pretty young thing knew what she was doing.
"How are you feeling today, Ponyboy?" Claire asked.
"Tired," Pony replied, sighing.
"Sounds about right," she said, writing something on her clipboard before placing it off to the side. "One of the effects of meningitis is chronic fatigue."
"Great," Pony said, sarcastically, sighing even more heavily.
"It gets better," she quipped, trying to put him at ease, "Besides the fact you've been in bed for a few days, a lot of meningitis patients, also tend to have balance issues, problems with coordination, muscle tone, during recovery."
Pony looked down at his blanket. "Now, don't be so worried just yet," she said, trying to ease his brooding, "I've worked with a number of meningitis patients. It's hard to know what exactly we're dealing with here without doing a full physical assessment on you," she explained. "So I'm here to do an assessment on you to see where you are physically since you were brought in, and to strengthen some of those muscles you haven't been using," Claire explained, "The goal is to get you up and mobile so you can go home soon. You've been laying in bed for a few days, which means your muscles haven't been working as usual. But beyond that...any serious infection, and certainly meningitis, can easily wreak havoc on the body's strength. We want to give you some of that power back."
Power. The kind of thing you need to run a 400m sprint. Or even just to double cartwheel down the street. (The way they used to after Darry taught them the gymnastics he learned down at the Y.) He was far from even thinking about that, and that made him nervous.
"I was running track this year," he burst out suddenly, "Do you think I'll be able to get back to it? Maybe even next season?"
"One thing at a time, Pony," Darry spoke up sternly, his arms crossed.
Pony ignored him "How long will it take me out? Coach will probably have a fit -"
"Do you put a lot of importance on athletics?" Claire cut in.
"On track, yea," Pony nodded. He looked at Darry, knowing he felt the same way.
"Our brother here's on the A-squad track team," Soda piped in, "He's a world class runner."
Pony's lips twitched up in a sort of listless smile. "Aww, come on Sodapop," he said.
"He's a future track star…" Soda bragged.
"Not anymore," Pony mumbled under his breath.
Darry patted Pony's knee awkwardly over the blanket. He felt bad for the kid. This wasn't gonna be easy. Luckily, Sodapop was there to swoop in. Soda's heart melted when he realized how defeated Pony did he have to go and say things like that? He knew as well as everyone else that it wasn't gonna be smooth sailing.
"Pony, don't think about that right now," Soda said sympathetically, putting his hand on Pony's shoulder.
"Not so fast," Claire responded, "I'll give it to you straight," she said. "I'd love for you to do somersaults out of the intensive care unit, but..one thing at a time, Ponyboy. Like your brother said," she smiled looking up at Darry and Darry gave her back one of his rare grins. "I'd love for you to get back to running track. But you're going through something serious and we need to get you back to yourself. We need to figure out what it is that you need to work on. And we need to start slowly. It's not going to take a day. We'll have to work on it."
Soda squeezed Pony's arm, reminding his brother he was there for support. He appreciated Pony's eagerness to get out of bed and start moving, but it only made him panic that much more. He remembered how sick and out of it Pony had been when they had found him buried in the snow, near the truck. When he had entered Pony's hospital room and almost vomited seeing his little brother's partially shaved head, protruding scar, and massive black and blue eye. How his fever had made Pony pitch forward, practically throwing himself from the bed when he was going into septic shock.
No, Pony wasn't doing any somersaults out of the ICU. Not if Soda had anything to say about it. They were going to go SLOW.
"What about this?" Pony asked Claire, holding his arm out in front of himself, where thin bendable tubes were slid carefully into his vein, carrying fluids and antibiotics to his weary frame.
"We'll work around it," Claire said, looking at him.."If the nurse secured it well, it shouldn't come out."
Pony accepted that answer.
Claire wanted Pony to lay flat on the bed, so after the bed to her level, she maneuvered the part behind his head down so that he wasn't elevated. Soda helped Pony lay down all the way and adjusted the pillow behind his head.
Claire had Pony do a number of range of motion movements with his arms. First, she assisted him in lifting one arm up straight and then had him do it on his own. The same thing happened with the other arm. She mentioned that there was some reduced muscle tone, but overall good range in motion, and he didn't have trouble lifting them up on his own. Eventually though, she asked him to hold his arm up on his own, bent with the elbow pointing down towards the bed - which he did - but when she asked him to make a fist, he was weak. It was hard to keep his fingers closed for a period of time.
Until then, even though he had been scowling, Pony kept something in his face tight, controlled. But when he couldn't make a fist the way he wanted to, his features crumpled instantly.
Darry and Soda exchanged looks. But Claire was the one to speak up first.
"It's ok, Ponyboy, don't worry about it. You're not going to be the same at first as you were before. It will take some time. We'll work on it," she said optimistically, basically reading his thoughts.
Still, Soda's anxiety only increased, but he tried to keep the smile on his face when she said that.
When she was finished bending and straightening his arms every which way, Claire moved down to his legs, asking him to bend and straighten them at the knee. She also lifted up his leg and bent it at the knee then straightened it. Darry remembered the doctor in the emergency room doing a similar exercise to test for meningitis, but this time, Pony did not lift his head.
These exercises were harder for Ponyboy. It was probably a combination of weaker muscles since the onset of the infection and also feeling more and more tired as time went on.
"You're doing fine, Ponyboy," Claire said, even though he wasn't. His legs wouldn't bend and straighten properly without assistance and the effort made him grunt until Claire had to help him. She didn't see anything wrong with it, it was natural for meningitis patients to need some assistance, especially in the first round of physical therapy, but Pony didn't know that and he just felt more and more exhausted and more frustrated as time went on.
Steve Randle entered the room just as Pony's cheeks were beginning to burn with discouragement. While he kept his thoughts to himself, he wished that Steve wasn't there to watch him struggle. It only made him feel that much more helpless.
The tightness in his chest wouldn't dissipate, especially now that Steve was watching, but he squeezed his eyes shut and mumbled under his breath. "This day just keeps getting better and better."
Steve came up quietly behind Soda and clapped him on the shoulder. Eyeing Ponyboy quickly and then turning around, Sodapop gave his best buddy a friendly handshake. "Hey man," he didn't smile.
"Hey kid," Steve called out to Pony from behind Soda, his voice low and soft. . "Looking a little worse for wear there. You gonna make it?" His mouth twitched upwards into a crooked grin.
"Very funny," Pony muttered.
"Steve…" Darry warned, giving him a look.
"No, I meant it. You're doing good, man." he said to Pony.
Pony clenched his jaw, surprised by Steve's compliment. Claire looked over at Steve and smiled, the way she had smiled at every guy in the room, but didn't ask him his name.
As Pony continued his exercises, Steve whispered in Soda's ear, "Who's the chick?"
"Physical therapist," Soda answered him quietly, watching Ponyboy intently. Finally though, he stepped away and motioned for Steve to follow him to the foot of the bed.
"You're not working today right?" Soda asked him softly.
"Nah, man, I got the day off a week ago," Steve said, "Boss said you're going in though?"
"Yeah, I'm supposed to, but I need to talk to you about that," Soda began, "But not now, I gotta be here for Pony…"
"What, you need me to cover you or somethin'," Steve began, wanting to hear more.
"Not exactly, man. Listen, let's talk about it after…"
"Now we're gonna work on your rolling," the boys heard Claire say as Soda moved back to be closer to the bed. He stood next to Darry. "So I want you to roll over towards me. Can you do that?"
Pony nodded. He was laying flat on the bed, having just worked on bending and straightening his legs and rolling his hips. He tried to smile at her but it came out as sort of a grimace. Getting mobile was harder than he thought. Claire reached over lifted the tubing laying over him to be sure it didn't get caught.
He rolled over towards where Claire was standing, his fingers gripping the mattress at the edge of the bed to maneuver himself forward. Darry and Soda noticed that he had rolled the upper part of his body over, but his legs were still flat on the mattress facing forward. They didn't know if this was done intentionally or Pony was really having a hard time moving his full body.
"And back down," she said gently and he rolled back. "That was good, Ponyboy, but we're going to try it again without holding on to the edge of the bed, ok?"
"Mhmm," Pony grunted his approval.
"Ok, I'm gonna bring this leg up for you. That might help you," she said, pulling his straightened right leg into a bent position, "And bring this arm over," she said, grabbing his right wrist, "And bring yourself towards me."
While she held his hand and foot, she didn't actually tug on either of them, but her presence helped and Pony rolled himself over onto his right side. "Very good," she said and they repeated the procedure on his left side with her "assistance, holding his left leg and left arm.
"Nice job, Pony" Darry encouraged, trying to be comforting when he saw how worn out Pony looked after he had laid back down.
Sodapop glanced back at Steve, feeling decidedly less confident, even though Claire had just told Ponyboy he was doing great.
"He can't even roll over," Soda muttered to Steve, off to the side, "How the hell are we supposed to take him home?"
Luckily Ponyboy hadn't heard him, but Darry had. He turned around, shooting Soda a look.
"Can it, little buddy," he told his brother, quietly enough that Pony wouldn't hear.
"We're gonna look at your sitting now -" Claire was saying.
"You...want me to sit?" Ponyboy asked tentatively, remembering how sitting the day before had taken so much energy out of him that he'd had to lean his full weight on Soda.
"We're gonna get you sitting up on the edge of the bed," Claire said, smiling kindly, "But don't worry, I'm gonna help you. And your brother will help us, too," she added, looking at Darry who was closest to them.
"Darry, would you be able to help me with this please?" she asked.
"Yeah, sure," Darry said as he stood at the foot of the bed. Soda came closer, as well, to get a better look at what they were going to do.
"So what we're gonna do is we're going to break it down," Claire explained to Ponyboy, "I'm gonna get you to roll back onto your side like you were before and then Darry's gonna help with the legs and I"m going to help with your body, ok? And we're gonna get you sitting up on the edge of the bed." Claire moved her arms animatedly as she talked.
"It's not as hard as it sounds," she added.
Ponyboy looked over at Darry and raised his eyebrows, trying not to be worried. He had already sat up once before, so why would this be any different? Claire noticed the look
"Are you ready?" she asked, "Ok, great, we'll bring your arm up over here and lift your knee," she said as she pulled his left arm over and pulled his knee up into a bent position.
"Darry," she said, "close your hand around Pony's toes...and when he's ready, you're going to help me get him to roll."
"Very nice," she said as she maneuvered the top part of his body so that it had rolled over. But his leg had not moved and Darry waited for instructions.
"Now what we're gonna do is I"m gonna help your body up, and Darry's gonna help swing your legs over to the side of the bed, and all I want you to do is push as hard as you can through your arm and help sit up, ok?"
"Mhmm," Pony mumbled, his face partially in the mattress. It was hard for him to stay in that position for too long and he wished they would get on with it.
"So Darry, put your hands around both legs," she instructed Darry. "Ponyboy, you ready?" she asked one final time, "You're not in any pain?"
"No," Pony grunted.
Claire put one hand on his back, and the other on his upper back, just under the neck. Then as Pony pushed, and Darry swung his legs over, she lifted him up into a sitting position.
Pony groaned as he was lifted, but Claire couldn't tell if he was groaning from pain or just plain overexertion.
"Are you ok, Pony?" Darry asked, before Claire had a chance, "Are you in pain?"
Why did everyone keep asking him that? In truth, the maneuver had made his neck throb, but he was tired of always being constantly sore in his arms, in his legs, in his back, and from the neck up. The headaches that came and went didn't make things easier either.
And with the long scar, and the strange feeling behind his left eye, he couldn't even imagine what he looked like now.
The whole made him feel weak and dependent and powerless and he saw the same helpless look in his brothers' eyes.
So he chose not to call attention to it. At this point, he was used to always being some kind of pain and it was probably nothing, just some added stress because of movement.
"It's nothing," Pony said, then realizing he could incriminate himself with that statement added, "Yeah I'm fine."
"You will tell us if you're in pain, right Ponyboy?" Claire insisted and Pony nodded.
He was sitting up, trying not to show the weariness on his face. "We're a good team," Claire said, trying to be cheerful, and Ponyboy grinned, but without enthusiasm, looking up at Darry, who was giving him a soft smile.
"Now all we need to do is move you a little bit forward," she said. Darry kept his hand on Pony's back as Claire pulled him a bit forward.
"Darry, do you mind bringing the bed down a bit for me, please?" Claire asked, keeping her hands on Pony's shoulders.
"Sure," Darry answered, walking over to the other side of the bed to push a button and lower it. "Just tell me when," he said.
"That was really good!" she told Pony, looking at him directly in the eyes, as he breathed hard, "You did well."
"Way to go, Pone," Soda called out from somewhere and Ponyboy finally looked up.
Claire eventually told Darry to stop lowering the bed. "I just want to check your sitting balance now," Claire said. "Darry, do you mind standing behind Ponyboy, and just supporting him in case he falls?"
Guided by Claire, Darry stood directly behind Ponyboy, putting his big hands over Pony's shoulders after Claire had taken hers off. "Just give him a little bit of space, so I can do the assessment," she told Darry. Claire had her arms on Pony's biceps, holding him straight for a moment before she went to get a stool that was off to the side of the room.
Claire sat on the stool directly in front of Pony. "We're gonna start by straightening you up," she said. Pony had been leaning slightly to his right out of weariness, but he hadn't even noticed until Claire had commented on it and leaned him back into a straight position.
"Now we're gonna do some simple head movements," Claire told Pony, "Head movements and neck stretches so that we can help improve that stiff neck," she added.
Pony bit his lip.
"The first thing I want you to do is move your head around and try to look towards the right," Claire placed her hand in front of herself in a sort of stop motion position and as Pony was starting to turn his head, she said, "See if you can see Darry behind you."
"Hey Pone," Darry called out and smiled as Pony turned his head and looked at him. But he didn't smile. Pony's face had more of a grimace. The move was hurting him.
"And back to center," she said, "Now we're gonna do the same thing and get you to look at Darry over to your left." He did.
"That's excellent," she said as he did it carefully.
Excellent, she said.. It doesn't FEEL excellent. It actually feels pretty lousy, Pony thought. But he decided he wouldn't let on.
Claire gave him a kind smile, perhaps even sensing his distress.
"Ok," she said, "I want to try this again. It's really good for easing tension in the neck muscles. Ponyboy,I want you to hold your hands out in front of you and put them on my shoulders,"
Ponyboy did as he was told, holding out his hand straight in front of him and then placing them, palms down, on Claire's shoulders as she sat on the stool.
"Now, turn your head to the right and see if you can catch Darry's gaze again from behind you," she explained.
Pony turned his head. But as he lifted it up and slightly around, he suddenly felt a sharp pain between his right neck and shoulder.
He cried out in pain, and involuntarily pushed Claire away, using her shoulders to push himself closer to Darry. His hand instinctively went to his neck, fingers cupping around the pain.
"Ponyboy?" Claire called out, startled.
Hearing Ponyboy gasp, Soda grew alarmed and came closer instantly, "Ponyboy, are you okay?"
Ponyboy couldn't help it. His eyes watered. Everything hurt much more than he realized.
"My neck - " he squeaked out in anguish.
Darry, who had kneeled one leg on the bed behind his brother, moved forward and put his hand over Pony's right hand on the right side of his neck.
"No don't!" Pony cried out, still in pain, his neck throbbing, "Don't touch me please," he begged,, "It hurts." Darry instantly pulled his hand back like he had just palmed a piping hot stovetop.
Pony leaned away from his hand. But by then he was so weak and tired, that he was unable to stop himself from continuing to lean over towards his left. Darry reached out on his left side to steady him, holding him up so he wouldn't fall.
Pony felt claustrophobic as Darry and Claire gathered around him. He looked up and glanced at Soda who was also close by, his face having gone white.
"Ponyboy, has your neck been hurting all this time?" Claire asked.
Pony clammed up. "Yeah," he finally answered,, then turned away, with a lump in his throat. Don't start bawlin', he thought.
"Ponyboy," Claire said, trying not to sound like she was scolding, "These are the kinds of things you need to tell us."
Pony's eyes closed as his face fell. A single tear rolled down his cheek, which he couldn't hide.
Darry put his hand on his brother's back gently, watching him. "Maybe he's had enough for today," he told Claire authoritatively.
"Yes," Claire agreed softly, "I think your brother's right, Ponyboy, that's enough for today."
Soda wanted to comfort Pony too, but he didn' know what to do.
There was an awkward pause as Claire let her patient collect himself. "Let's pick this back up tomorrow morning. Ponyboy," she said, "You did great today," she said, and Pony opened his eyes, hand still on his neck. He looked sad, "I'm impressed," she insisted, "Usually meningitis patients take more time before they can even sit up. But I don't want you doing any kind of neck stretches until the pain is gone, ok? And I want you to tell us when you're in any sort of pain, ok?"
"Tomorrow we might even be able to try walking," she added, trying to make him feel better. "But you definitely need the assistance of someone for now. I don't want you trying anything on your own, ok?"
"Neck pain is not all that uncommon in meningitis patients," she continued, but she was really talking to the group, "Especially when the patient starts moving around again. It's good that you told us," she said, even though he really hadn't. "I'm hoping it's nothing. It probably is. But I'm going to ask a nurse to come to check you just to be sure it's nothing serious," she said.
Then she added, "Try not to look so glum," but she gave him the warmest smile, that Pony couldn't stay mad at her.
"Easy for you to say," he answered softly. He wasn't mad at Claire, just angry at his situation.
"I'll be back with the nurse in a minute," Claire said, sensing that Pony needed to be with his brothers for a moment.
When she left, Darry and Soda came around. "Pony, are you okay?" Soda asked again, bending slightly so he could peer into his brother's eyes.
Pony looked at him, his eyes welling up again. He just sat there breathing heavily for a moment.
"I'm pretty bad off, ain't I," he choked out after a while, the tears evident in his voice.
"You're gonna be fine," Darry emphasized as if saying it again would actually get all of them to believe it. He touched Pony's forehead with the back of his hand and rubbed it soothingly. What Pony didn't know was that Darry was actually checking for a fever. It didn't seem like he had one.
Soda sat down on the bed, the mattress sagging as he sat down next to Pony. But he had to settle for rubbing Pony's arm when Pony unintentionally jerked away from him, seeing his hand come out and afraid it would touch his neck.
"Be careful, Soda," he said, his voice almost at a whine. Soda was surprised for a moment, but then, in true Soda fashion, he shook it off and came closer, carefully putting his arm around Pony's back.
"Come here," he said and Pony felt himself coming apart as he leaned into his brother, sticking his fingers into his eyes to stop tears from falling.. It was embarrassing.
"We should get him back to bed," Darry said after a moment, but then Claire and the nurse came back in. The nurse carried a blanket.
"Ponyboy," she called out, and Soda helped Pony sit up straighter, "How are you doing? I heard your neck was hurting," she said standing in front of him.
"Yeah," he replied weakly, slowly easing his fingers off the area of his neck they had been clamped on. But then there was a sharp pain and he hissed and put them back.
"Ponyboy," the nurse said again, "How long has your neck been hurting?
Ponyboy bit his lip and looked at Darry as he came around the bed to stand next to Claire in front of him. Darry crossed his arms and Pony knew he had to tell the truth.
"Um, since this morning?" he said, feeling like he wanted to run away and hide. But he knew his weak legs wouldn't let him.
He could feel Soda tense up next to him. "Ponyboy," he said, shooting up from where he had been sitting next to his little brother, "Your neck has been hurtin' since this morning and you didn't tell anyone?"
Pony's face grew hot, "Well, I got medicine," he frowned, "It didn't help."
"Muscle tension and neck pain are pretty common during meningitis," the nurse said, echoing what Claire had mentioned earlier, "But you really should have told us you were in pain, Ponyboy," she said sternly, looking at him. "You shouldn't have to sit there and suffer."
"I'm fine,"Pony said, but you could see by the look in his eyes as he looked away that he was still ill and tired.
"Pony, it's ok not to be fine," Darry countered.
"I don't see anything out of the ordinary for now," the nurse said, "But I can give you some more medicine that will help. Something a little stronger. But first, let's get you back in bed."
Claire spoke up, "My next appointment starts shortly. Get some rest, Ponyboy. We'll meet again tomorrow," she gave him a pointed look, "And you better let me know ahead of time if anything else is bothering you."
"I will," Pony said in a lowly voice.
Claire left the room. Pony shifted himself backwards and then attempted to turn around to slide to his pillow. Darry, watching him struggle and quickly realizing he should help, placed one arm around his back and the other arm around the bend in his knees and lifted him swiftly into the bed, before Pony realized what he was doing.
"Thanks," Pony said softly, making Darry realize he had done the right thing. The fact that Pony hadn't protested being carried proved just exhausted he really was.
Pony sagged against the pillow exhausted. The nurse, who had just fiddled with the tubes that crisscrossed his chest and rolled the IV pole back over to his left side (where it had been before), then came over to his right side still holding the blanket.
"Here," she said, "For your neck. I just got it from the cabinet where we warm up the blankets, so it should do the trick," The nurse carefully pressed the blanket between his neck and his shoulder and the heat radiating from it was so gentle and soothing against the pain that Pony practically sighed with relief.
"The medicine should start to kick in soon. Get some rest, Ponyboy," she said and left the room.
"How are you feeling now, Pony?" Darry asked as Pony rolled over to his left, the warm blanket still against his neck on his right side. His left arm, connected to the IV pole, laid out limply in front of him.
"I'm...tired," he replied, looking at Darry out of the corner of his eye and letting out a big yawn.
Darry looked at his brother, whose eyes were drooping. Pony was drained from the physical therapy and you could see it - his shoulders slumped, his face crumpled, like he didn't want to answer to anyone, and although he was already laying down, his body was collapsing into a heap.
"Yea, Pone, you really look beat," Darry observed. He came over and covered him with his blanket. Soda sat down on the edge of the bed on his left side. "Want me to lay with you, Pony?" he asked, stroking his brother's hair.
"Mmm...no," Pony mumbled, "I'm falling aslee-" and he was out.
XXX
After Ponyboy fell asleep, Darry went over to stand off to the side with Steve and Two-Bit away from the bed. Soda brushed Pony's hair back one final time and then went over to join his friends and his brother.
"Jesus, that was worse than I thought it would be," Darry said, running a hand down his face as he looked at Steve. It was a habit he picked up when he was stressed, but one might have even wondered if he was exhausted, too, by the way his shoulders sagged.
"He sat up, Darry. That's a good sign, ain't it?" Two-Bit replied, trying to be optimistic.
"It would help if he told us if he was hurtin'," Darry grumbled.
"We didn't get to tell him we're going to work," Soda spoke up, "I hate leaving him."
"We need the money," Darry said in a low voice, hating to be the one to bring up that fact.
"You stickin' around, Two-Bit?" Steve asked.
"I can't," he said, looking genuinely upset about it. "I gotta drive my mom to work. She's worried about getting there in this weather."
"We thought...well...maybe you could stay with Pony," Soda said, awkwardly putting one hand on the back of his neck as he looked at Steve.
"Me?" Steve was taken aback.
"Look, we know you and Pony ain't the best of friends but we're in a tight spot, Steve. It would really help us out." Darry said, laying out the facts. "I don't want him waking up with no one around."
"Come on, man. Please watch over him," Soda said, his eyes pleading, "I don't want him to be alone. Shoot, he might even sleep the whole time. Help us out, man."
Steve looked over Soda's shoulder at Pony who was sleeping peacefully at the moment.
"Yea, ok," he eventually said. ""I'm not really up for playing nursemaid...but it's fine," Steve sighed.
"You're a pal, Steve. Thanks for doing this. It means a lot," Soda said, clapping Steve's hand like he had earlier when he had walked in.
"Just don't expect me to be Sherlock Holmes and try to figure out what's wrong with the kid. I can't help it if he's in pain and don't tell no one."
"Yea we all know you'd jump off a building for the kid, ain't that right Steve-o?" Two-Bit punched Steve in the arm, and then slapped his knee like it was the funniest comment in the world, laughing so hard, he almost toppled over.
"Two-Bit…" Darry warned.
"What'd I say?" Two-Bit suddenly went serious, shrugging all innocent.
Steve scowled and pointed at his friend,. "Two-Bit, it's YOU that makes me wanna jump off a building."
"Aw shucks," Two-Bit said, hand to his heart. Darry gave Steve a crooked grin.
"Don't let him tell you he's fine," Soda reiterated, "He needs someone around. Call the nurse if he's in pain."
"I got it, Soda,"Steve huffed, "What time you guys heading out?"
"Now. I am anyway," Darry said, "Supposed to be at the warehouse at 12. Getting a few extra hours in. And Soda, you're getting a ride with me, right? So we better split."
"Yeah, yeah," Soda said, glancing over regretfully at the still figure lying in a careless heap on the bed. "Let me just say bye to him."
Soda went over to Ponyboy and brushed his hair back, leaning over and giving him a kiss on his forehead, which he noticed was not particularly warm, he grabbed his DX button-down and hat that Darry and Steve had brought for him.
"You're picking me up later, right Two-Bit?" he asked.
"Sure thing," Two-Bit said as Soda pulled on his cap.
Then he followed Darry and Two-Bit out the door.
XXX
Soda's words rang in his ears. Come on, man. Please watch over him.I don't want him to be alone. Shoot, he might even sleep the whole time! Don't let him tell you he's fine. He needs someone around. Call the nurse if he's in pain.
Why had he agreed to do this again? Sick or not, that kid grated on every one of his last nerves. If he wasn't fighting life threatening illnesses, getting beaten up by Socs or falling knee deep into thick snow, he was tagging along at the drag races or every time Steve and Soda hung out with girls at the Strip. Darry and Soda were so proud of him but his head was always in the clouds. He did stupid things like watch sunsets and read heavy books. He tried to make everyone see things in a different light.
Steve wasn't buying it. The kid was full of it.
But Darry and Soda would kill for him.
Hell, they all would.
He had to admit he felt bad for the poor kid. Nobody should be as sick as he had been. But they weren't exactly pals and most of the time he just annoyed him to all hell.
You're a pal, Steve. Thanks for doing this. It means a lot.
Well, he couldn't say no to Soda. Nobody could. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe the dumb kid really would just sleep the whole time.
Sure, Pony got on his nerves sometime. All the time actually. And sure he wished the kid wouldn't follow Soda around like a puppy dog, wagging his tail and skipping along like a golden retriever. But he couldn't stand the thought of something happening to the poor kid...like it almost had. So watching him for a bit to make sure it wouldn't wasn't such a big deal.
Two hours later, when Pony was still sleeping and Steve was bored out of his mind, he started wondering if he should be thinking differently. He had flipped through car magazines, men's magazines, and yes, even a girly magazine or two. Not those kind of girly magazines, unfortunately...an honest to god women's care magazine that had some cute girls in it...fully clothed. It was pathetic. Then he had played one too many games of Solitaire with the cards he had picked up from the gift shop before he had arrived. And Pony hadn't so much as stirred.
He wondered if he should go smoke a cigarette. Would Soda kill him for that? Would he even know? Maybe if he gave him a call and updated him on his little brother (and the fact that he had been knocked out for hours) he could then go have his cigarette in peace and feel a little less guilty about it. He'd be gone all of 10 minutes.
How much trouble could the damn kid possibly get into in 10 minutes?
So he decided to do just that. He looked Pony over one last time, judging from his neutral expression that he wasn't in pain. Then he left the room.
XX
Steve didn't have time for a cigarette. After politely asking the nurse at the nurse's station to use the phone, he had dialed the DX to update Sodapop. But when Steve couldn't tell him much (Pony had been sleeping the entire time) it was actually Soda who began talking his ear off. Steve let him because - well, he was worried about his brother - but it got annoying and the nurse was starting to give him a look.
The look was actually much kinder than Steve would give her credit for, but it was making him self-conscious, like he was spending too much time on the phone. And anyway, didn't he have to get back to the room? Eventually it was Steve who had to be the one to tell Soda to stop talking and get back to work. He had to get back to Pony's room so his little brother wouldn't be alone. That shut Soda up real quick.
Steve could have pat himself on the back for how much he was going out of his way for the kid. He would certainly throw it in Pony's face later.
Still, as he walked back to the room, faster than he intended, he wondered...Am I going soft? Did the kid's well-being actually mean something to him? Smart ass kid.
Steve rounded the corner and walked into room 302. Immediately, he did a double take - as the blood drained from his face.
The bed was empty, the covers rumpled, like someone had been in a fight. The pillow had been knocked off the bed, and a tube hung lifelessly off an IV pole.
Ponyboy Curtis was nowhere to be found.
Hmm what do you think has happened?
Reviews please!
~ Simona