He hears the whispers as he walks through the grocery store. He lets out a long sigh. This was always the worst part.

He grabs a carton of eggs and shoves them into his basket. He tries hard to ignore the two people next to him. Nora and John. He went to high school with them. He can see their disgusted glares. He hears them talking about him. He knows what they're saying too. That he was throwing away his life on some kids who would never get anywhere in life. Their words cut deep, but he held his head high and walked past them.

Ever since taking his brothers in leaving the house had become a nightmare. He was met with so many judgemental stares that made it hard for him just to walk down the street. Now it was even harder. It was summer. All of his old friends who had gone off to college were back in Tulsa for the break. The thought of seeing them again made him nervous.

Often he found himself questioning why? He wanted very badly to just quit. But he couldn't. Because suddenly it wasn't about him anymore. There were two people in his life that depended on him. A couple of months earlier he had gotten into a fight with his father. He was upset that his dad wouldn't come to watch his football game. But his dad had said that Pony and Soda needed him at home. They were both running fevers that evening, and their mother was away visiting a sick aunt. Darry had ended that argument with yelling that his brothers weren't little kids anymore before storming out.

He realized now how untrue that was.

You don't realize how young 16 and 13 are until you're the one that has to do everything for them.

Now he knew better. He was the one cooking and cleaning. Fixing up injuries sustained in fights. Helping with homework, making sure they had clothes, talking them through the grief of losing both parents. It was exhausting. He had to stop seeing them as little brothers and start seeing them as kids. Before, if he had seen one barging into the house with a broken nose, he would have smirked and called them a loser. Now he had to be the one to fix it and make sure social services knew that it was sustained as a result of teenage boys being stupid, not from a case of abuse.

He had never had two boys depending on him quite like this before.

No, scratch that. Six boys. Because before, when everything in the world was right, his parents were a lifeline for the gang. They all came from broken homes, each to varying degrees, and Mr. and Mrs. Curtis was their light in the dark. Never hesitating to treat all the boys like their own. Fixing dinner for everyone, providing warmth and shelter, and just being there to talk. But since they passed, that responsibility fell on his shoulders. He didn't have to, but he couldn't throw the boys to the wolves.

It felt like suddenly everything he did affected them in one way or another. He felt bad for feeling negative emotions such as anger or sadness. It was no longer about him.

But was it really worth it? What did he get out of it? Watching one of his brothers work at a gas station for the rest of his life, (Gosh, he hated himself for thinking like that.) or watching his friends fall deeper and deeper into the dark hole of substance abuse and addiction? Watch them become bitter and angry and letting steam off by driving cars so recklessly that Darry spent hours pacing around the house every time they went to a drag race, scared that there would be a phone call telling of an accident? Watch them beat up fellow teens and get hauled off to the cooler? Or watching them become so overcome by the horrid feeling of being unloved that they just stopped talking altogether? How could he look at all that and say that this was really worth it? Was the feeling of satisfaction with his life really dependent on the fact that his youngest brother might get out of this dang town and make something of himself?

He just pushed these feelings down.

Home. Finally.

He threw his keys down and sank down into his armchair as fast as he could. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath-

"Darry?" A voice said sheepishly.

His eyes snapped open and he resisted the urge to just start screaming. "Yes, Two-Bit?" Don't smack him, don't smack him, don't smack him. "I got a problem..." DON'T SMACK HIM. "Uh-huh?" "And I could really use your help." You're eighteen years old Keith, do you really need- "Alright, what is it?" Darry expected something like girlfriend troubles, maybe something with school. Perhaps he needed help picking out a gift for Pony, whose birthday was quickly approaching. (Another thing to worry about) Ya know, something normal…

"So I adopted a pet raccoon..."

Darry nearly passed out then and there. "You WHAT?" Okay, He thought to himself, trying to calm down. He's not really my brother, so this can't really affect me, right? "And I lost it somewhere in your house…"

Darry stood up quickly. Shaking off the urge to grab the nearest firearm and take care of that raccoon problem a lot quicker, he grabbed Two's hand and dragged him down the hall. "Where did you last see it?"

"I can't remember." "Okay, this could be a problem."

It took thirty minutes of searching, a lot of listening, and a few well-deserved smacks to a certain ginger's head before they found it. Darry was near tears of frustration before Two-Bit screamed "There he is!". Darry looked up at the ledge Two was pointing at. And it was at that moment that he wanted to just lay down and perish. "Two-Bit...that's not a raccoon. That's a skunk." "Oh yeah, I always get those two mixed up. Come 'ere, Mickey!" The skunk hissed, and suddenly a putrid smell filled the air. It jumped down and ran. Darry quickly opened the front door and the skunk ran out.

It was just the two greasers now. Soda had been out with Pony. And Darry was grateful. If they had seen this, well... Darry didn't want to think about that. He took in a deep breath and gagged. He had forgotten about the smell.

"TWO-BIT!" He roared. A small voice inside him reminded him that his greaser friend was still a teenager and lacked the capacity to think things through sometimes. He pushed it aside. "WHY CAN'T YOU USE YOUR DANG HEAD FOR ONCE?!"

Two-Bit just grinned.

He looked at the clock. 7:45. Two-Bit had gone home. It had taken an hour, but Darry had finally got the smell to fade. Now he could lay down and relax-

"So, what's for dinner, man?"

Darry whipped around and had to once again resist the urge to put a hole in the wall. Dallas was standing there with his hands jammed in his pockets. Darry was about to tell him that he knew a great place to get some free skunk for dinner when he did a double-take on his friend. He hadn't actually seen Dally in a couple of days and noticed that he looked a bit thinner and a little paler. He had dark circles under his eyes and his normally blazing blue eyes seemed to have faded to a dull grey.

Darry felt some of his anger melt away. "Ain't you been eating anything?" Dallas grunted. Darry knew that meant "no". "Alright, I haven't cooked anything yet, but give me a minute and I'll get some leftovers fixed up for you, alright?" Dallas just nodded. Darry knew that it must have been a real long time since the boy got any real food in him if he wasn't resisting to Darry doing this for him.

Later, as Dally sat eagerly digging into a plate of chicken and mashed potatoes, Darry sat across from him. "You need anything else? We haven't seen you in a bit." He asked open-ended questions because he knew that cornering Dallas would only lead to an outburst. "Nah, man." "You got a place to stay?" "Don't worry about it."

But he worried anyway.

Darry cleared his throat. "Well, alright. Just know you're always welcome here." "Thanks, Superman." Don't call me that. "No problem."

Dally was about to say something else when the door banged open.

Darry nearly started crying right then and there. I just...I just want to sleep. The second Steve had walked in, Darry knew that this would be bad. Steve had looked extremely out of it and his face was pale with big red splotches on each cheek. Dallas had laughed, but Darry just felt another tidal wave of anxiety crash into him. That was an hour ago, and now Darry was doing everything in his power to help the sick teen now lying on his couch. Dally was no help, he just watched in amusement as Steve got sick all over Darry's (freshly cleaned) carpet.

"Alright, little buddy, do you think you can sleep now?" "My head hurts too much." Darry squeezed his eyes together. "Medicine didn't help much, huh?" Steve's feverish eyes were the only answer he needed. "Alright, let's try some sleeping pills."

Sleeping pills, sleeping pills. Where did you go? When he had finally found the bottle, he was greeted with the sound of something crashing from the living room. "What now?" He groaned. He returned to find Steve piled on the floor, with Dallas occupying the spot on the couch.

"Dallas!" "I was tired of standing." He replied nonchalantly, flipping through channels on the television. "There's another chair right there!" Dally shrugged. "Guess it just didn't occur to me."

Steve got sick again. Darry was about ready to throw hands when someone else walked in. Big black eyes looked nervously at him, blood pouring steadily from a fresh cut on his face.

"Johnnycakes!" Dallas exclaimed happily. "Come over here and watch tv with me." Johnny's eyes darted down to Steve, who was still retching. "Ignore him, he's dramatic."

"Actually, I need- well Darry if you're not too busy…" Johnny fumbled over his words. My floor covered in vomit Johnny what do you think? "'Course I'm not." Darry forced a grin. "Just let me clean this up and I'll help ya out." Jonny gave a relieved smile. And 15 minutes later, his cut was bandaged just fine.

It was late now. Steve was asleep. Johnny and Dally were watching old reruns of movies. Darry let out a long sigh. The boys would be home soon, the ones who were already here would be sleeping, and he'd finally get to lay down.

"HEY EVERYONE, I FOUND MICKEY!"

No...please no. He pleaded with the universe.

The universe did not care.

You see, Two-Bit really loved his pet skunk. Problem was, his pet skunk did not love him. And it apparently felt threatened, because as soon as Two let his guard down to yell at the others, it booked it.

It ran in circles looking for a way out. I jumped over the couch, (waking Steve) and sprayed its infamous odor.

...Right on Dally.

With a rage typically only seen in movies, Dallas lept up and made his way after that skunk. Johnny tried to help him catch it but tripped over the coffee table, reopening up his wound. Two-Bit screamed and screamed. Steve covered his ears and you could tell his migraine had come back.

Darry looked in horror at the sight before him. Everything just seemed to be a blur at this point.

Dallas crashed into a lamp, breaking it. More screaming. He's not even sure from who at this point. He heard a gasp. He looked over and saw his two brothers standing in the doorway.

Darry sat down and cried.

He had his face covered so no one would see it. Maybe they knew anyway. It didn't matter. Something in him snapped. He stood up and took a deep breath. "EVERYBODY FREEZE!"

Everyone stopped. Except for Mickey, of course.

"TODAY HAS BEEN THE LONGEST DAY OF MY LIFE, SO FOR ONCE CAN YA'LL LISTEN UP?!" Everyone nodded. "GOOD. TWO-BIT, WRANGLE THAT THING. DALLAS, HELP JOHNNY WASH UP HIS FACE. SODA, GET STEVE SOME MEDICINE. PONY CLEAN UP THIS MESS. UNDERSTOOD?" "Yes, Darry." "Sorry, Darry."

He turned around, stomped down the hall, and threw himself on his bed.

Sleep came at last.

He woke up the next morning and briefly considered jumping out his window so he wouldn't have to face the day. Instead, he crawled out of bed and slowly made his way towards the door. He closed his eyes and walked out to the living room.

His jaw dropped.

The house was sparkling clean. Dishes were washed, his floor was vomit-free, and there was no sign of a skunk anywhere. And on the coffee table, there was a note. He picked it up and read it.

Darry,

We're real sorry 'bout last night. We shouldn't have bothered you so much, we know you got your own problems to worry about. We cleaned the house. We won't be back till later today to give you some time alone, since it's your day off and all. Don't worry, we won't get in no trouble. And don't worry about Mickey, he didn't like being a pet anyways. We let him go. Sorry again. Not just for yesterday, but for every day before that. We swear we'll do better from now on.

Love, Pony, Soda, Johnny, Steve, and Two-Bit.

P.S.: Dal refused to sign since he doesn't think he did anything wrong, but he'll do better too.

Darry read the note again and again. Then he put it down, smiled went to enjoy his day off.

True to their word, they didn't bother him all day. They came back at six. No new injuries, they had all eaten, Steve's fever was practically gone, and best of all? No sign of any skunks. Pony and Soda seemed rather apologetic about not being around to help him the previous day, but Darry wasn't mad about it.

"How was your day off, Dar?"

He smiled. "Perfect."

The gang seemed to collectively let out a sigh of relief. "Alright, what do you say we all head out to the lot for a game of football?" Soda asked. Everyone nodded eagerly.

They all walked together, joking and laughing. Darry looked at all of them and gave a small smile.

Maybe it was worth it after all.

*Apologies for any mistakes. English is not my first language.