I do not own The Outsiders. All characters used are borrowed with much respect to S.E. Hinton.

Soda,

I miss you. I know I'm not supposed to say that but I do. I'm sorry. I'm trying to do what you said but it hurts still sometimes. I miss Steve too, but don't tell him. He'd probably just tease me. I hope you're both okay.

Is it okay if I ask you stuff? I guess if you don't answer that means no, so I'll just go ahead anyways. It's hard to imagine what it's like for you over there for real. I can read books or watch movies about war and glory, but now that it's what you're living I somehow feel like everything I know isn't the truth. Is it scary? Are you scared? I think I would be so I'm glad that Steve is there with you and you're not by yourself. Do people get hurt a lot? What's it like? Are you like Greg now? Greg always seems to know what to do, kind of like Darry. I hope I get to be that way one day but I probably won't since my head doesn't work anymore. Greg called it something but I don't remember.

It's okay if you tell me about what it's like over there. I see lots of stuff on the news before Darry makes me turn the channel. I think he's trying to protect me but sometimes it's scarier when I don't know what's happening. Kind of like when Greg comes over when I have a bad day or night and worry Darry. Greg always goes slow and tells me what he's gonna do before he does it. I still don't like being looked at and touched but it's not as scary when I know what will happen before it does. So you can tell me if you want to.

My birthday was okay, but it's not the same with you gone. Don't tell Darry. I don't want to hurt his feelings. He tries real hard and sometimes I still feel like I let him down. Sometimes I feel like all I do is make him sad. He cries a lot and he never did before, not even when mom and dad died. I don't want to make him cry Soda.

I really like the leaf you sent. It's so big and I don't know what to do with it. Darry thinks I should put it in a scrapbook or maybe make a picture frame for it but I don't know yet. Makes me think about how far away you are - in a different world even, although it really is the same one. It's so strange. Hurts my head to think about it too long. I look at the stars lots, just like you said to do, and sometimes it feels better, but sometimes it just makes me wish you were here even more.

I don't know what to talk about. I thought this would be easier, but I guess it isn't. I'm trying Soda. I really am it's just hard. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad.

I miss you, Soda. I'm sorry.

Love Ponyboy

After all was said and done, I was lucky to have a job to go back to. Mr. Garver wasn't happy; I knew I'd pushed my luck with him one too many times. I didn't want to make a big production of it all; I just wanted to have a small sense of normal while everything else raged out of my control. So I kept my mouth shut, my nose to the ground, and worked through my anger and frustration with life; taking it out on the rooftops of Tulsa.

It was the last day of July, and I was on my way home after the job site got shut down earlier than expected. The rain and wind picked up; throwing around everything we were trying to nail down. I stayed behind to tarp down areas that were vulnerable to the elements, and felt a strange sense of understanding. I felt exactly like the wind blasting against my face; roaring its unease with life.

I had the truck pulled into the driveway by two-thirty, and was thankful for the early day. Ponyboy was back to fending for himself while the rest of us enjoyed the day to day trials of earning a living.

He was curled up on the couch with his stuffed horse tucked under his neck as a pillow of sorts. It was the same horse I'd bought him while he was in the hospital; the same horse Soda would name MickeyMouse. There was a paperback on the coffee table with a slip of paper tucked out between the pages. I tugged at it without thinking, and unfolded the page. I rubbed at my face wearily as I read.

…"I'm just going to miss you guys. I've been thinking about it, and that poem, that guy that wrote it, he meant you're gold when you're a kid, like green. When you're a kid everything's new, dawn. It's just when you get used to everything that it's day. Like the way you dig sunsets, Pony. That's gold. Keep it that way, it's a good way to be."…

I tucked the letter back into the book, and put it back on the coffee table guiltily; the words private and not meant for me. I looked over at my brother who was asleep on the couch, and eased down to sit next to him while I reached out to touch the back of my hand against his face. His eyes opened a bit, before he startled awake.

"Shit!" He scrambled to sit up on the couch, and I couldn't even scold him for the swear.

"Hey, take it easy kiddo. I didn't mean to scare ya. Was just sayin' hi is all."

Pony relaxed a little before looking around the living room like he was trying to figure out where he was.

"I fell asleep. 'M sorry, Darry. I was gonna start supper for you and…"

… "Shhhh…take it easy, Pony. It was an early day; looks like you've been sleepin' through all the wind n' rain. Besides, I don't expect you to be cookin' my meals for me. It ain't your job. I'm s'poseta be takin' care of you, not the other way around."

"But I promised Soda I would. We gotta take care of each other so he won't worry about us while he's gone. He won't be safe if he's worryin' about us all the time." I could see his anxiety rise as he spoke about our brother and the war he was fighting.

"Heyyy…easy now, Pony. You n' I are doin' just that, aren't we? We take good care of each other, don'tcha think?" I grinned to try and lighten his mood, but he shrugged uncertain.

"Me and Soda don't want you to drink no more. Soda's gone for real now…I…I just want you to be okay. I don't want you to disappear."

The thought of my younger brothers worrying about me left me feeling ashamed about how I'd lost control and lost sight of who I was, but it was an eye opener. I knew I needed to pull my head out of my ass and get my shit together for all of our sakes. Pony's earnest confession was more than enough motivation. And he was spot on about his brother. Soda would have enough on his mind while he was over in Vietnam. He didn't need worrying about me drinking on top of things.

"I don't want you worryin' about me, but I'll tell ya what. If I feel like I'm havin' a tough time of things, I'll let you know, and maybe you can help me through it, okay?"

Pony's face relaxed, and lit up like I'd told him it was Christmas. "Okay!"

My smile felt just as ridiculous when it showed up out of my control. "Okay, little brother! How 'bout right now you help me figure out what to make for supper tonight?"

I tugged gently on Pony's arm before helping him off the couch, and I walked him into the kitchen; my hands squeezing his shoulders as I followed behind.

"Whadaya feel like?" Pony shrugged as he looked up at me standing behind him.

"Not sure, kiddo." I shrugged. "If I make some soup, will you help me eat it?"

"I didn't think I was supposed to."

"It's okay, kiddo. We just don't want you eating too much too soon." My hand moved to his head to pet his hair.

"But if I'm s'poseta gain weight, shouldn't I eat more?"

Ponyboy looked puzzled, and honestly I didn't understand the mechanics of it all, but Greg was incredibly insistent on the fact that if Pony over did it with food, it could land him in a world of trouble.

"I know, Pony." I shrugged. "It don't make sense to me either, but Greg meant business. But…" I sighed and gave my brother a playful wink. "…if you're feeling up to it, would ya like me to make some soup?"

Pony frowned as his eyes shifted, making a production of the fact that he was thinking.

"Mushroom?" He looked at me hopeful.

"You got it, little buddy."

Hey Soda,

Thank you for the help, but it wasn't necessary. I had things covered even with the work I've missed, besides that, ol' Two-Bit went a bit crazy. He bought balloons and the whole works. You'd think Pony was turning 7! I don't really know how Pony took it all. He was pretty quiet, like usual. Things are good with us, but I'm not you. He doesn't talk to me the same; maybe some parts of him are still afraid of me after everything.

The world you live in sounds pretty terrifying right now. It's on the news constantly, and I have to grow eyes in the back of my head to make sure Pony doesn't get too riled up. He's always got the tv on and the news is never good. I kind of think he expects to see you and that's why he's glued to it – you know how he is. I still wish it was me there instead of you, Pepsi or that I was there to fight side by side with you, but I know I have to let that go. I know one of us had to stay behind.

I'm glad to hear that Steve is managing. Say hey to him for me would you? It's been quiet around here since he left. It's weird because I always thought Two-Bit was the motormouth. I guess not, haha.

I let Greg have the location for where to write you. I hope you don't mind. I know you don't have a lot of time on your hands to be writing everyone in the city of Tulsa, but he's been worried and blaming himself I think. I don't know why. There's been too much of people blaming themselves for things they have no control over. We've all been guilty of it.

I imagine "Herman" is gone now and you're the one your platoon is depending on. Greg believes in you, Pepsi. I believe in you. I'm proud that you're over there making it better and keeping those boys alive. You amaze me. I want you to know that. Write soon.

Darry

P.S. What nickname did you get stuck with anyways?