The past and the present met in a collision of commonality, the echoing crash enough to begin breaking the walls of denial and send the chains of fear toppling to the ground below.
"Is he okay, Son?"
Steve pulled his bedroom door closed, as he spoke to Nicholas. "Not really, Dad. He's been crying a lot. But that's not a bad thing. He needs it."
Nicholas looked at the closed door, then at his son. "How about you? Are you okay? You look like you were crying too."
Steve rubbed his head and squeezed his eyes shut, knowing they were red from the remnants of tears that he'd cried right along with Soda. "I don't know. But yeah, I was. I couldn't help it. It hurts me to see him hurting."
Nicholas wrapped Steve in a hug. "I know, Son. I know it does."
Steve returned his dad's embrace, the comfort an anchor for him. "He's finally starting to get stuff off his chest, Dad. Some of it's really hard to hear, but I'll listen to anything to help him through it."
"Of course, Son. It's Sodapop. But I'm here if you need to talk too, all right?"
Steve nodded, as he pulled away from the hug. "I know, Dad. I'm going to go back in there now. I don't want to leave him alone for too long."
"I knew if I started crying, I might never stop."
Steve sat at Soda's side, seeing the tears that still fell from his best friend's eyes, confirming the truth of his words. "That's all right, buddy. You needed it."
Soda laid his head against Steve's bed, not even bothering to wipe the tears from his face. "I've always been a bawl baby, but damn."
"It's everything trying to come out, man."
"Yeah. It's like I kept pushing the tears back, so there's more of them or something."
"So do you feel any better?"
"I don't know. Maybe. It feels kind of good, I guess."
"That's cause it's not like you to keep everything inside."
Soda took the tissue Steve handed him, wiping his nose and eyes, as a few beats of silence fell between the two friends. "Stevie?"
"Yeah?"
"You're going to tell Darry what I said, aren't you?"
"He needs to know, Soda."
"I don't want him to be upset with me."
"He won't be upset with you, buddy." Steve watched Soda press the tissue to his face, soaking up the remaining tears. "Why don't you talk to him? And I can be there with you, if you want."
"Darry, can I, uh, ask you about something?"
Darry could see the hesitation in Pony, uncertain where his little brother was going with the beginning question. "Sure, Pone. What's on your mind?"
Pony, still clad in the shorts and t-shirt he'd worn to track practice, with sweat glistening on his red face, took a few swallows of cold water, before going further. "Steve told me what happened to him."
"Oh. Okay. So you have a question about that?"
"Kind of. But I didn't want to ask him anything else. Soda either."
"Well, you can ask me then, Pone. But I don't know that much about it."
"Steve said it was abuse."
"Yeah."
"And that he didn't tell his dad about Clara, um, touching him."
"Right."
"I mean, I guess I just wonder- The word 'abuse' makes me think of Johnny's parents and how they beat him. But no one, not even Steve's dad, knew about anything happening to him."
"There are different types of abuse, Ponyboy. We couldn't see it, and she didn't hurt Steve the same way Johnny's parents hurt him. But she did cause him a lot of pain."
"I couldn't understand why he didn't tell his dad about it. I would tell you if anyone ever- well, if anyone who shouldn't ever touched me like that. He said he was ashamed, so it was hard for him."
"I'm glad that you'd tell me, but I think it's different when it actually happens to you. And Steve was young enough, it was hard for him to know what to believe about what she was doing to him."
"He told me she said stuff that confused him. She's the one who was wrong though. I mean, she was an adult, and he was a kid so..."
"That's one reason it was abuse, Pone."
"What's the other reason?"
"Well, that's the main one, but it's wrong for anybody to touch someone else without permission. And the way she manipulated him into not telling and made him feel bad, that's also abusive too."
"Why did she do it, Dar? I mean, she was supposed to be Nicholas' girlfriend, right? So why would she be touching Steve, instead of him?"
"I actually don't know the answer to that, but I don't think it's really about that at all."
"You mean it's not about sexual stuff?"
"Yeah, that's what I mean, Pone."
"So what's it about then?"
"I doubt Steve even knows that answer for sure because it's not like Clara ever explained her actions to him. But if I had to guess, I'd say it was about having control over him and being able to get what she wanted. I don't know why, but I think she wanted to hurt both Nicholas and Steve, so that's exactly what she did."
"Thanks, Nicholas. I was actually getting hungry."
Nicholas picked up Soda's empty plate and put it in the sink. "You're welcome, Sodapop. You know that."
Soda looked at Steve, who sat across from him. "Can we go get it over with, Stevie? If I don't do it soon, I won't be able to talk to Darry at all."
Steve took the last bite of the leftover lasagna, setting the fork down on his plate. "Sure, man. We can go in a minute." He stood up, taking his plate to the sink. "Hey, Dad, I'll be back later, all right?"
Nicholas nodded, seeing Soda also stand to his feet, the boy's lack of any form of cheer tugging at his heartstrings. "You're going to be okay, Sodapop."
Soda rubbed at his eyes, internally begging the tears not to start again. "I know. I mean, I guess I do anyway."
Nicholas moved toward Soda. "Come here." His arms went around his son's best friend, just holding him for a few moments.
Soda leaned into the embrace, also able to feel Steve's hand on his shoulder. "Everyone's hugging me tonight."
Nicholas couldn't help but smile a little. "Cause you look like you need it."
Soda lifted his head from Nicholas' shoulder, as he pulled away. "I really do need it." He turned to Steve. "Let's go talk to Darry. Before I decide I can't do it."
"Pony's in the shower right now, but we'll talk in here anyway."
Soda heard Darry's bedroom door click, as it closed, not yet ready to begin the conversation.
Steve settled himself beside Soda, seeing when his best friend hid his face in his hands. "It's all right, man. Remember I'm here too."
Darry sat on Soda's other side, immediately resting a hand on his brother's back. "What's going on, little buddy?"
Soda drew in a breath, holding it until he was ready to speak. "I wasn't really telling the truth, Darry. I mean, I kind of do have some thoughts. Not exactly like- But, um, I don't want to do anything. I just..."
Darry's gaze moved from Soda to Steve, then back again. "I don't understand. What are you talking about? You have what thoughts?"
Soda looked down, not meeting his brother's eyes. "Um, thoughts about not being here anymore. About dying."
Darry stayed close to Soda, his hand still on his back. "Okay. You mean about hurting yourself or...?"
Soda felt the tears threatening to spill out again, as he tried to clarify his own words. "No. Not really. I mean, I don't feel like hurting myself. But I sort of did mean what I said the other night, and I think things."
Darry sought a clearer explanation, believing his brother was on his intended track, yet not filling in all the blanks. "You did mean what? And what things? I'm listening, little buddy. You can say anything you need to say, even if you didn't tell me before."
Steve saw Soda's eyes meet his own, recognizing the need for help, as he put a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "He's talking about what I told you, Superman. Wishing the robber would've killed him. And he told me earlier" Steve glanced at Soda, also finding it difficult to continue. He didn't let go of him, as the words flowed out. "that he wakes up in the morning and wishes he hadn't or thinks of how he wouldn't be dealing with so much now, if he had died and-"
Soda interrupted, repeating the remainder of the thoughts he'd shared with Steve. "And, sometimes, I think I just don't want to be here anymore."
Darry, focused on not just what he'd heard, but also on the defeated tone of Soda's voice, drew his little brother close. He held him, experiencing the rare feeling of being at a loss for what else to do.
Soda sank into Darry's arms, appreciative of the warmth when he'd been so afraid. "I bet Pony's going to hug me tonight too."
Steve remained beside both brothers, his eyes brimming with tears, though he smiled at Soda's comment. "I know I said it once already, but it's cause we all love you, buddy."
Darry met Steve's eyes over Soda's shoulder, reluctant to let go of his brother, though he knew more would need to be said. "That's right, little brother."
Soda closed his eyes, feeling the tears coming out yet again. "I'm sorry I lied to you before, Darry. I just didn't want to admit I meant it at all, and I thought you'd get upset. I don't want to feel any of this."
Darry released Soda, pulling away to look at him. "It's okay. I'm not upset. I am very worried though." He used his thumb to wipe the tears from his little brother's face. "And I'm not sure how to help you."
"Thank you, Steve. For being here with me and for everything tonight too."
Steve turned to see Soda coming out the front door, as he replied to his best friend's grateful sentiment. "Of course, buddy. You know I've got your back."
Soda joined Steve on the porch, the door closing behind him. "I really mean it, man. I've been feeling like I'm falling apart, so it means a lot."
Steve could still see tears glistening in Soda's eyes, and his heart went out to him. "I'm just glad you're starting to talk about things, Soda."
"Not everything yet, but yeah. I know Darry is going to want to talk more too, but I'm getting real worn out. My head hurts from crying so much."
"You probably need some sleep, man."
Soda looked down at the concrete that made up the floor of the porch, then at the sky that had turned dark. "Will you pray for me, Stevie?" He felt himself being enveloped in yet another hug and squeezed Steve tight in return.
"I already have been, buddy."
"Hey, Son, how'd it go?"
Steve, no stranger to the power of vulnerability, didn't yet respond to Nicholas' question with audible words. All the emotion weighing on his chest and in his heart, he wrapped his arms around his dad.
Nicholas could hear Steve crying, as he wound his arms tight around him too. "It's okay, Son. Sodapop's going to get through all this." He pressed his lips to the top of his son's head, a gentle gesture of comfort. "I promise."
Helplessness clawed its way through Darry's chest, overpowering his physical strength. It seized his heart, giving rise to a panic that then gave birth to anger.
"The thoughts I've had, they kind of started out like that."
Nicholas felt sympathy cut through him, as he listened to Steve tell him about how Soda was struggling. "But that doesn't mean he'll do anything to himself, Son."
Steve could feel himself trembling from the crying he'd done so recently, as he added more. "I know. I know that. But he survived something terrible, Dad. Something awful and scary enough all on its own. He doesn't deserve to be dealing with the flashbacks. And he damn sure doesn't deserve to be feeling anything like this."
Darry's fist clenched, before it slammed hard against the top of his nightstand. "Damn it! What am I supposed to do for him?"
"You don't have to sleep in here with me tonight, if you don't want to, Pone. I'll be all right."
Pony studied Soda's appearance, able to see the waves of sadness that poured off him, even without the clues that told him he'd been crying. "Are you okay?"
Soda put on a smile, as he slipped on a pair of socks. "Yeah. I'm fine."
"You don't look like it."
"But I still am."
"Come on, Sodapop. If Steve can be honest with me, you can too."
"He did say he told you about what happened to him."
"Yeah. I don't even know what I was expecting, but it sure wasn't that."
"It's not something you'd ever think of, Pone. Hell, I was around Steve all the time back then, and I didn't know. I was even around Clara some too."
"You were? What was she like?"
"I don't know. She seemed nice, but I can't look back now without thinking she was kind of creepy too."
"So she was nice to you?"
"Yeah. But she was nice to Steve too. That's one of the things that made it so hard for him. She was good at acting like a decent person, Pone. That's how she got Nicholas to like her. Steve even liked her too, at first. But it wasn't real."
"Do you think she was sick or something?"
"I don't know. Maybe. But she was a bad person. So it doesn't even matter."
"Steve said he felt ashamed cause of what she did. I hated to hear that from him. It just seemed wrong. He was a kid."
"Exactly. And yeah, it was hard for me to hear he felt so bad about what happened cause it's her fault, not his."
Pony started to voice another question, but pushed it to the back of his mind for safekeeping. "But I asked about you."
"I've had a rough night, Ponyboy. Honestly."
"Why?"
"Cause I'm- I'm feeling a lot of things."
"Because of the shooting?"
"Yeah."
"You're always here for me, Soda. You can tell me stuff too, you know."
"I know."
"So what was making you cry?"
"I cry all the time anyway. I'm the bawl baby in our house, right?"
"Yeah. Usually. But you haven't been lately."
"Cause I wasn't letting myself cry."
"But that ain't like you."
"So once I started, I couldn't stop."
Pony, knowing the comfort Soda always offered him, hugged his middle brother.
Soda felt himself start to laugh, as he hugged Pony back, a welcome change after seemingly endless tears.
"Soda? What's funny?"
"Nothing, Pone. I've just been getting a lot of hugs tonight."
"God, I just don't know what you want from me sometimes."
Soda, unaware of Darry's prayer, looked outside to see his big brother on the porch steps, holding a bottle in one hand. "Hey, Dar, what are you doing out here?"
Darry lifted the bottle, taking a swallow of beer. "Just relaxing, little buddy. I thought you went to bed."
"I did, but I was kind of having a tough time falling asleep." Soda took a seat beside Darry, watching his brother. "Are you mad at me?"
Darry set the beer down on the concrete step. "Mad at you? Of course not."
"You just didn't say as much to me as I thought you would, and you kind of look mad and- Tense, I guess."
"I'm all right, Pepsi Cola."
"I thought you'd try to get me to talk more after, um, what I told you."
Darry picked up the beer, taking a longer swallow this time. "Is there more you need to say?"
"I just- I mean you got to me in time. You called for help. You took care of me."
"Right. And I'd do it all again, Sodapop."
"But when I think the things I do, I feel bad for it cause you saved my life. So how could I ever feel like I don't want to be alive?"
"Because you're having a hell of a tough time. It means you're in pain, little buddy." Darry secured an arm around Soda, guiding his head to rest on his shoulder. He looked up at the sky, his next words both a balm of truth for his brother and a repentant prayer. "But it doesn't mean you're not grateful."
"Come in, Son. You can stay here with me."
Steve entered Nicholas' bedroom, crawling into the bed to lie beside him.
Nicholas switched off the lamp, then lie down on his side, pulling the comforter over both himself and Steve.
Silence hung between father and son, until Steve spoke. "Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm scared."
"I know, Son. I can tell."
Steve turned over to his other side, so he was facing Nicholas. "I know Soda's not like I was, but I still feel like I get it now."
"You get what now?"
"How he felt when he was so scared cause of what I was going through. I mean, I got it before. But it's different to be feeling the same way."
"You're an incredible friend, Son. I want to make sure you know that."
"So is Soda." Steve let his head sink into the pillow, as he closed his eyes. "I don't know where I'd be without him."
Soda's feet moved along the ground, the coolness of the grass brushing the soles, as he heard the sound of chirping crickets, the quiet night a contrast to the deafening noise in his mind.
As he looked up, Soda dropped to his knees, the open, star-filled sky an invitation to prayer. "God, I know I already asked you to help me. But I'm asking you again."
His eyes remained on the sky, where he believed God resided in Heaven, as his voice continued in prayer. "Please make all this go away."
Soda laid his head down on his lap, letting it rest on his folded arms. He felt the bandage that covered his healing wound touching the skin on his face, his petitions turning to whispered pleas. "And no matter what, don't ever leave me, God. Please always stay with me."
"Get lost, TwoBit. I do not look that bad."
Twobit leaned on the bench, where Steve sat, disagreeing with the protest. "Seriously, buddy, are you okay? Is something going on?"
Steve found he couldn't argue, TwoBit's tone of voice making his initial annoyance dissipate. "I have some stuff on my mind, but yes, I'm okay, man."
"Would you tell me if you weren't?"
Steve didn't answer immediately, realizing TwoBit's likely implications. "Since you're asking, and you know stuff you didn't before, yeah, I think I would."
Soda picked up the appointment card that lay on the counter, reading his own name and that of Dr. Simons, accompanied by the date for two days from now. I wonder what it's going to be like, he thought.
Putting the card back down, Soda's eyes moved to the bandage that, for now, still marked the place where he'd been shot. Darry had continued to replace it for him everyday, while helping to distract him from the wound that would be a reminder, even once time transformed it into a scar.
Acting on a sudden impulse, Soda pulled off the medical tape that held the dressing in place. He felt the bandage loosen, the stretchy material sliding off the stitched wound. Even when he wanted to pull his gaze way, he found he couldn't. He stared at the stitches, as he ran his fingers over the line of knots. He could see the raised ridge that was the beginning of a scar, a symbolic representation of physical healing.
Soda, still staring at the mark of trauma, he'd always carry, pictured the bullet entering his flesh. He imagined the skin being torn open, pain unlike any he'd ever known before, rippling through his arm. He felt the sensation of a trance come over him, thinking of how the bullet had trapped itself within his body, while blood poured from an injury that could have taken his life.
Soda could feel the tears rise up in his eyes, as he blinked rapidly, both to keep them back and to fend off the image of the robber's mask that hid behind it a face that didn't want to be known, the source of a voice making demands not met fast enough. He tried to block out the living recollection, but it moved forward, carrying the mask through time, forcing him to remember. His left hand lifted again to touch the stitches, his eyes no longer blinking, but held open in the shock of disconnection.
Soda's fingers at first only grazed the knots that had sewn the edges of his skin together, but caught in the haze of detachment, he began to pull at one of them, the memories making him come undone.
The hammer in Darry's hand came down hard on the nail, further securing the shingle on the roof, where his crew was working. He felt the hot sun shining down on his face, as he headed toward the ladder.
He put a foot on the top rung, holding on with both hands, as he made his descent.
The pencil in Steve's hand glided across the lined paper. He attempted to ignore the feeling that stole over him, his mind focused in on Mrs. Patterson's words, shutting out the voice that accompanied the still remaining shadow of regret.
Panic blossomed in Soda's heart, as he started to come back to himself, physical pain tugging at him. Yet, as he stared at the blood that seeped out, the image made the memories gain new momentum, their strength zapping his awareness and trapping him within the bonds of the past.
"Hey, Kid. What's up?"
Pony watched, as Steve put some of his textbooks in his backpack, stacking the rest into his locker. "Can we, um, talk again? Just for a minute?"
Steve sighed, as he closed his locker and picked his backpack up off the floor. "Depends what about. And I gotta go home and change before I head to work."
"It's not about you this time."
"That's good cause I don't feel like talking about me today."
"Do you think Soda is okay?"
"I think he will be, Kid."
"When I was talking to him last night, he kind of avoided actually answering anything I asked him. I just know he had a rough night, and he was crying. He wouldn't really say why."
"Listen, Ponyboy. Soda talked to me quite a bit yesterday. He did have a rough night, but it's a good thing cause he got some stuff out of him. And he needed that real bad."
"He just looked so sad, and I don't know, it made me wonder how he's really doing cause he said he's fine. He hasn't seemed fine at all."
"That's just his way of trying to cope, Kid. But try not to worry too much, all right?"
"Darry looked kind of stressed last night too. But I didn't ask him about it."
"It's rough to see Soda in pain. Especially when he can't really fix it."
"So do you think he's doing what you said he needed to? Facing what happened to him?"
"Yeah. I do, Kid. I think he's starting to do exactly that."
"What can I do?"
"You're his little brother. Soda adores you. Just be around."
Blood trickled down Soda's arm and onto his jeans, as he huddled in a corner of the living room. "Please make it stop, God. Please."
He lifted his head to look around, feeling the memories begin to recede into the distance. He wiped at the tears that had fallen on his face. "It's okay. You're just at home. You're safe."
Soda looked at the stitches he'd left intact, then at the area of his wound he'd injured by pulling on the healing skin. It oozed blood, red from irritation, as it created a stinging pain. "I didn't mean to do that." He got to his feet, still shaking, as he found the bag of remaining medical supplies. He pressed gauze to the wound, applying only a little pressure.
"I'll see you later, TwoBit!"
At the sound of Pony's voice, Soda clumsily searched for dressing and medical tape.
Pony entered the living room and saw Soda there, holding the gauze against his arm. "Hey, what happened?"
Soda stumbled over his words, as he picked up a clean bandage. "I, um- Nothing, Pone. I just-"
Pony moved forward and reached for the gauze, lifting it to see the wound that had only just stopped bleeding, the unstitched parts of skin slightly open. "What did you do, Soda? Did you try to take your stitches out by yourself?"
"I wasn't really trying to. I wanted to see what it looked like, So I took the bandage off. But then, I started feeling- And I pulled on them. Before I knew it, I was bleeding."
"You can't just cover it back up though. You have to cut away these loose stitches and clean it. You don't want it to get infected."
"I swear I didn't mean to do it, Pone. I felt worse when I saw it was bleeding."
"It's okay, Soda. I'll help you take care of it, and you'll still be all right."
Darry's feet were planted firmly on the ground, as he spoke to his boss, Mr. Sanders. "Yes, Sir. I can stay late today. I could sure use the time."
Mr. Sanders nodded at Darry, his eyes assessing the work that remained on their current job. "How's that brother of yours doing, Curtis?"
"He's getting better. It's taking time, but he seems to be recovering all right."
"Good to hear. You can go up and work alongside Avery for now." Mr. Sanders clapped Darry on the shoulder, before he could walk away. "And tell Sodapop I'm glad to hear he's coming along. You boys have been through a hell of a lot. But I know your dad would be damn proud of how you're handling it all."
Pony put the last strip of tape in place, the injured wound now clean and covered. "What happened, Soda? Why did you pull on those stitches? The skin's not totally healed yet. It even could've been worse."
Soda avoided Pony's gaze, as he tried to explain. "I don't know. I didn't mean to do it."
"How could you not mean to do that?"
"I was just- I was having a hard time, and I touched it and felt the knots. I was trying to block out what was in my head, and I just pulled on them."
"You're going to have to show that to Darry when he comes home."
"I know. I don't want to though. I was trying to cover it up before anyone came in and saw what I did." Soda looked down at his right arm, his eyes studying the newly placed bandage that, for now, hid the physical result of his battle with the flashbacks. "I swear I didn't realize what I was doing. I didn't even feel it at first."
"Hey, Dar, I know you just got off work, but I need-"
Darry tossed his toolbelt on the table, exhaustion speaking for him, as he replied to Soda. "I'm very tired, little buddy. I need to get a shower and eat dinner cause I still have to get up in the morning and do it all over again."
Soda stared at his big brother, his face falling in regret. "I- I'm sorry. I'm not trying to bother you."
Darry went past Soda, making his way to the bathroom. He was in the shower, water running over his fatigued muscles and body, before he realized what he'd done.
"Hey, Dad, when's your next date with Audrey?"
Nicholas looked up from his checkbook, seeing Steve still in his DX uniform, the question catching him off guard. "Uh, I don't know. Maybe I'll call her tomorrow. Why?"
Steve took a piece of baked chicken from the stove, scooping some corn next to it. "Just wondered. I know I've been off my game with teasing you. I need to get back on track."
"I'm sorry I blew you off like that, little buddy. I'm just stressed from working late."
Soda didn't turn around to look at Darry, as he puffed on a cigarette, his head laying on the back of the porch swing. "It's okay, Dar."
Darry sat down next to Soda, his eyes on his brother's face. "What did you need? You can tell me now."
"You're already stressed enough, and it's all cause of me. I'm the reason you needed to work late anyway."
Darry leaned forward on the swing, then grabbed Soda's face, making his brother look at him. "Stop that, Sodapop Patrick. There is nothing here that's your fault. Don't you dare do that to yourself."
Soda felt Darry let go of his face and put the cigarette to his lips, inhaling one last time, before he put it out. "I have to show you something cause I'm worried about it."
"Okay, little buddy."
"And you're going to see anyway. But please don't be mad, okay? I didn't do it on purpose."
"Just show me. Whatever it is."
Soda undid the dressing that Pony had put on his arm, feeling Darry's eyes watching him.
Darry saw the bandage fall away, Soda's injury exposed. He looked at the wound, seeing where it was still red, skin slightly apart, the knots of stitches no longer all there. "What happened here, Sodapop?"
"I wanted to see it earlier cause I was thinking about how I have my appointment on Thursday."
"Okay."
"And at first, I just looked, and I touched the stitches. But then, I started feeling funny. I was having a flashback again."
"All right. Keep going."
"I was trying to get away from it, I guess. And I started pulling at them."
Darry stared at the irritated skin, believing the damage to the healing injury hadn't been too substantial. "That must have hurt. Stitches don't just come out like that."
"It didn't hurt when I first did it, but then, I sort of came back to myself, and saw I was bleeding. I kind of panicked then cause of the blood. It reminded me of- So I had another flashback. For a long time, I felt like it was all happening again, and I couldn't do anything."
"So what'd you do? Did you wash it?"
"Pony did. He fixed it up for me too. He came home right after I started to get a little better. It was still bleeding then."
"I'm glad you already have that appointment. I'd make you one if you didn't. Since it is so close to time for the stitches to come out, hopefully it'll just heal up on its own. What exactly were you thinking, little buddy?"
"I wasn't trying to hurt myself, Dar. So don't think that. But I'm not real sure. I guess I wasn't really thinking at all."
"It sounds like you disconnected from yourself or something. I haven't done anything like that, but I sort of get it, man."
Soda considered Steve's words, as he leaned against the tree in the backyard, the branches spread out over their heads. "I'm glad someone does. Cause I'm not even sure I do. It's like I wasn't even really here or something like that."
Steve crossed his legs, propping his elbows up on them. "Was this the first time you've been alone with a flashback?"
"Yeah. It was. I think maybe I was trying to do what I needed to do. You know, focus on something I could see or feel."
"You focused on the stitches?"
"Yeah. Cause I just touched them at first. I felt so weird, Stevie. And it's like I couldn't break out of the memories enough to really think or look around."
"I hate to say this, buddy, but I think you should keep that covered for quite a while longer. Just in case this could happen again."
"I'm supposed to get the stitches out on Thursday, so they won't be there for me to pull."
"Yeah, I know, but if you're alone and like that again, you could still injure the skin. It needs to heal a lot more, man."
"You're probably right. It's scary as hell to be so caught in a memory, I don't know I'm doing something. And when I saw the blood, it took me back all over again."
"I'm sure it did. That sounds like a damn powerful trigger. But there's something I need to put out there, Sodapop. Especially after the last couple of days."
"What?"
Before he continued, Steve laid his hand on Soda's shoulder. "I'm wondering if you might need to talk to a counselor or somebody like that if-"
"No, Stevie. I can't do that. Please don't tell me I should."
"Let me finish, buddy. I'm only saying if this keeps going on. It hasn't been quite two weeks yet, so give it more time to see if you start doing better."
"If what keeps going on?"
"You're having those flashbacks a lot, man. That and the things you told me you've been thinking and your nightmares. And now, this today."
"I can't stand the thought of talking to anybody but you or Darry about stuff like this."
"It's just something I wanted to mention. That's all. I get not wanting to. You know I do."
"I remember when I first told you I thought you needed to talk to someone."
"Yeah. I yelled at you, then broke a window. So I'd say you're handling the idea better than I did."
"It just all still feels so fresh, Stevie. Like I got shot yesterday or even today. And like I can still see that mask and hear the gun go off."
Steve grinned at Soda. "Do you hear yourself?"
"Huh?"
"The last time you tried to say you got shot, you couldn't. And that's the most you've said about what you keep remembering, buddy."
"Oh. Yeah, I guess it is."
"That's a big deal man. A big step. You're going to find a way to work through all this."
"I hope so."
"You will." Steve leaned closer to Soda, meeting his eyes, as he squeezed his shoulder. "And I'll be right here by your side the whole time."
