A/N Hi! So this chapter is really special for a few different reasons, and I very much want to go ahead and post it and take a break for at least a few weeks (from posting, not writing:)). The longest scene of dialogue I've ever done is here, and it's an incredibly important one for the story. Also, I wrote parts of it right when everyone's worlds began to get affected and turned upside down by the continuing spread of the coronavirus, and I think some of the lines are a reflection of my own inner thoughts over what our country is facing. I was proofreading this with tears in my eyes because there are pieces of it I remember writing just as it was beginning to hit me what's happening. That was just the beginning for my own state at the time, and I'm so very thankful for my writing and this community, this universe we can all escape into to get away from a situation that isn't going to end for many months. So enjoy! My heart finds such refuge in creating this world!
Ribbons of compassion wound through their hearts, truth and authenticity tying them together in the unifying covenant of perfect love.
The steps moved forward and then backward, the braided links of attachment and affection becoming the source of solace and salvation.
"So what are you two doing tonight?"
Nicholas buttoned up his navy blue silk dress shirt, as he spoke to Steve. "Just going out for pizza."
Steve touched the sleeve of his dad's shirt. "This is the one I gave you at Christmas. It's nice for a pizza joint, isn't it?"
"I like to look nice for Audrey."
Steve eyed Nicholas' face, noticing the stubble that was nearly always there as of late. "You don't shave much anymore."
Nicholas ran his fingers along his cheek and chin. "Audrey likes it like this."
Steve smiled, as he put his arm around Nicholas' shoulders. "Man, you're falling hard, Dad."
Nicholas, his mind drifting back to his last phone call with Audrey, looked at himself in the dresser's mirror. I would say you're absolutely right, Son, he thought. Except, I've already fallen.
"Damn, this thing itches."
Darry heard Soda's complaint and saw him fidgeting with his bandage. "Don't even try to scratch it, little buddy. Dr. Simons gave you some cream for that."
Soda resisted the urge to attempt to relieve the wound's itching with his fingernails, as he searched the bag Dr. Simons had given him the day before. He pulled out a tube of cream and removed the cap, before breaking the safety seal.
Darry watched, as Soda stripped off the medical tape and removed the bandage, then lathered cream all over the still-healing area. "Take it easy, Sodapop."
"You have no idea how much it itches, Dar. And if I scratch it, I might hurt something."
"You remember to take your antibiotic today?"
"Yes, Sir, big brother. Yes, Sir. I did as I was told."
"Keep talking like that, and I'm going to be looking for you to salute me."
The front door swung open, then the brothers heard the sound of Steve's voice. "Hey, Sodapop, are you going out with Penny tonight, or can we-"
Soda put the cap back on the tube of cream, able to feel the medicine begin to soothe the discomfort. "Hey, Stevie. What were you about to say?"
Steve stared at Soda, but his eyes weren't looking at his face. "I, um, I need to go back outside."
Soda watched, as Steve turned around and walked back out the door. "What was that about?"
Darry looked out the window at Steve, seeing him leaning on the porch railing, hands gripping it tight. "I'm not sure."
Audrey picked up a slice of pizza, the aroma of cheese and pepperoni drifting into her nose. "This looks so good."
Nicholas gazed at Audrey, who wore a knee-length lavender dress, light makeup completing her outfit. "I think you look even better tonight."
"Are you comparing me to the pizza?"
Nicholas' mouth dropped open, realizing how he'd sounded. "No! Of course not. I just mean you look great tonight. You look beautiful."
Audrey laughed, seeing how red Nicholas' face had become. "I was just kidding! But thank you. You look handsome tonight yourself."
"Hey, Steve, what's up, man?"
Steve still gripped the porch railing, his knuckles nearly white, as he tried to find his way around Soda's question. "Nothing's up. I think I'm okay. I just needed some air."
Soda sat down on the swing, able to hear Steve's persistently deep breaths. "You sound like you're almost having a panic attack."
Steve tried to will the tension away, glancing at Soda to see the bandage was now back on his arm. "I'm not though. I'm calming down. I'll be fine."
"I haven't seen you like this in a while."
Steve's mind flashed, an image mixing with the feeling of guilt he still held inside. He closed his eyes, the air nearly sucked from his lungs. He felt Soda beside him, then a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"For what?"
Steve took a shallow breath, his voice quiet and growing choked. "I wasn't- I wasn't there for you. I-"
Soda took hold of both of Steve's shoulders, guiding him back toward the swing. "Just sit down. Relax and catch your breath."
Steve felt the familiar numbness in his hands that had occurred before during an episode of panic. Slow breaths, he reminded himself. Take slow breaths.
"Easy, buddy. I think you got it. Calm down before you try to talk anymore though."
It'll pass, Steve told himself. It always does. Just keep breathing.
"I hope he didn't offend you or anything by saying that. Actually, I hope I didn't offend you cause I sort of brought it up, didn't I?"
Audrey finished her slice of pizza, using a napkin to wipe sauce from her mouth, as she responded to Nicholas' question. "Oh. No. Of course not. I thought it was funny."
Nicholas thanked the waiter, who had come over to refill their glasses, then served himself a second slice of pizza. "You seem to have a great sense of humor. I really love that about you."
"Like you said the first night we went out, it feels good to laugh."
"I know we've had a lot of real serious talks lately, man. But I gotta know what you meant."
Steve knew what Soda was referring to, even though he now wished he could take the words back. "I shouldn't have said anything. Damn, stuff just pours out of me sometimes now."
Soda empathized with the frustrated feeling, even as he defended the necessity. "Cause it needs to come out. That's how I've been, and you've listened to it all so far. What do you mean you weren't there for me? When has that ever been true?"
"I left, Sodapop. I left you alone."
"Left me? What are you talking about?"
"The DX. The night of the shooting. I left you."
"You didn't know anything was going to happen."
Steve jumped to his feet, crossing the porch. "But I should've been there!"
Soda followed his best friend, the words falling over him, as the very idea of Steve also being a victim of this situation made his heart twist inside his chest. "No! Don't say that! You could've gotten shot too, and you've been through enough shit, Stevie. You don't need more!"
"But you were alone. You could've died, and I had just left!"
"And, like I already told you, I'm so glad you left. It's not like you could've stopped it. Have you been feeling like this ever since that night?"
"Yeah. I have. Even before you got out of surgery, I felt like I let you down."
"But you didn't let me down. Damn, buddy, you barely left my side in the hospital. And you've been here getting me to talk about all this stuff when I didn't think I ever could. You've sat and cried with me cause of how I've been feeling. So please don't think you let me down or you haven't been there for me. Cause that's not true at all."
"It's such a nice night for a walk."
Nicholas took Audrey's hand, leading her along the sidewalk. "It sure is."
Audrey looked around, seeing the darkening evening sky above an area of Tulsa that buzzed with Friday night activity. Cars moved up and down the street. Couples and friends headed toward the pizza place, the bowling alley, and the drive-in theater. "So where should we go next?"
"I was thinking we could just walk til it gets darker, then find a place to sit up under the stars."
Audrey laid her head against Nicholas' shoulder, as she squeezed his hand. "That sounds romantic."
"I went to the hospital chapel when you were in surgery. I prayed for you to be okay, obviously, but I also told God I think I know how you must've felt now."
Soda sat across from Steve, two half-full mugs of hot chocolate and a deck of cards between them. "What do you mean? How I must've felt when?"
Steve leaned his head on the wall, looking out Soda's bedroom window, the view of the Curtis' yard staring back at him. "When I overdosed. When I could've died."
"Oh."
"I mean, I know I'm the one who did that to myself, and somebody else hurt you. But still."
"I get it, man."
"The day you came home from the hospital, I saw Laura and cried so much. I told her what happened, and before I knew it, I was telling her how bad I felt for not being there with you."
"I remember I could tell you'd been crying when you came over that day."
"Yeah. But it wasn't even really just that. I cried because knowing you got shot... It hurt, man, and it scared the hell out of me. I won't ever forget Darry telling me what happened or sitting there in the hospital. Even though I knew you were alive, I still worried you wouldn't make it."
Soda scooted across the floor, so he was beside Steve, as he saw tears filling his eyes. "I know the feeling, buddy."
"And I hated to think about some bastard shooting at you, hurting you like that, scaring you."
"That's why I'm glad you weren't there, Stevie. I get the guilt, man. You know I do. But please don't feel bad for not being there with me. I wouldn't want what's in my head right now to be in yours too. Especially not with everything you've already been through."
Steve turned his head to look at Soda, then lifted a hand to touch the bandage on his arm. "When I came in earlier, you didn't have this on."
"It was itching real bad, and I had to put some cream on it."
"That was the first time I've seen it, Sodapop."
"That's why you had to go back outside."
"I haven't told you this, but I'm so sorry it happened. So sorry you got hurt. I'd go back to that night and change it all for you if I could."
"I know you would, man."
"And if I could stop the flashbacks and everything, I'd do that too. I hate seeing you have to deal with those or with any of it."
"It is hard. I'm not sure I even got what you meant before about how real they seem."
"I sure never wanted you to have to either, buddy."
"I'm going to have to talk about all of it, ain't I? To make them ever get better?"
"I think so, man. That's why I told you I'm here when you're ready. But you have been talking a little at a time."
Soda looked out his window at the fallen night, remembering the image of the mask that had danced in the dark. His gaze dropped to the bandage on his arm, as he thought of the bullet, the bloody wound, and the pulled out stitches. "I think I'm ready now."
Nicholas tucked Audrey's auburn hair behind her ear. "My son is right."
Audrey leaned closer to Nicholas, breathing in the scent of his cologne. "Right about what?"
Nicholas tilted Audrey's chin up, his lips about to meet hers. "I am falling in love with you."
"Hey, Dad. How was the date? You kiss her again?"
Nicholas watched Steve move about his bedroom, a bag in his hand. "It was nice, Son. And yeah, I did. You going somewhere?"
Steve tucked a shirt into the bag, along with a pair of socks. "I'm going to stay at Soda's tonight."
"Is something going on?"
"Kind of. He wants to talk, and I know he needs that. So I want to give him plenty of time."
"Yeah, I guess we're going to stay up late, eat junk food, and talk like a couple of chicks."
Soda rolled his eyes at Steve's comment, as he filled a bowl with potato chips. "But if you guys hear any giggling coming from my room in the middle of the night, please come in and knock us both out."
Darry chuckled, helping himself to a handful of potato chips. "Gladly, little buddy."
Steve flicked a chip at Soda. "Hey, speak for yourself, man. Besides, I do not giggle."
Pony grabbed a chip from the bowl, as he looked at Steve. "Nah. Of course not. You have such a manly laugh."
Steve swatted at Pony's head, but missed when he ducked. He moved forward and grabbed him in a headlock. "All right, smartass. Got anything else to say?"
Pony struggled against the hold. "Yeah. When was the last time you took a shower?"
Soda took a long swallow from his glass of milk. "So what do you think, man? Should I keep it?"
Steve smirked at his friend, seeing the milk mustache on his face. "Yeah. You should keep it. It really suits you."
Soda wiped the milk away with his sleeve and put the glass down on the floor beside him. "So how do I do this? I ain't even sure where to start."
"Just tell me what you did after I left."
"I did what we always do. Swept the floor. Straightened stuff up, cleaned off the counter. I talked to Darry, and he said he was about to be on his way. I remember it was real quiet. The only thing I could hear was myself whistling."
Steve braced himself internally, as he pictured the DX free of noise and Soda doing what they did on any typical work night, unaware tragedy was about to take a swing at him and miss.
"When I heard the door open, I didn't even have time to wonder who it was before-"
Steve stayed close to Soda, reading the hesitation on his face and able to see the sadness that permeated his features. "You can take it slow, buddy. There's no rush. That's why I'm staying the night."
Soda saw the robber in his mind's eye, as he picked up the glass of milk, slowly sipping it. He focused on the cold drink, its smooth texture and taste moving into his mouth and going down his throat. "I looked, and he was there, pointing the gun at me and yelling, telling me to give him the money."
Steve put his hand on Soda's back, the touch one of comfort, as well as a tangible connection to the present.
Soda took a few potato chips from the bowl near his feet, the ridges crunching between his teeth, as the salty taste created a brief distraction. "You heard me earlier, right?"
"Huh? Heard what?"
"What I said about you feeling guilty cause you left. I didn't just say it to make you feel better. I mean it, man. I'm glad you were at home. Not even just glad. Thankful."
"I do hear you, buddy."
"Well, hang onto that. Please. I don't want you getting all messed up over it."
"I'm trying, man. It means a lot for you to say all that though. Really."
"You've been through enough guilt you didn't deserve."
"Laura actually told me she thinks one of the reasons I've felt like I have is because of, you know, everything else. When I heard you'd been shot, I couldn't fix it. I couldn't control what was happening any more than I could when I was a kid."
Soda drew Steve closer and hugged him. "I don't want you to hurt cause of this, buddy. Please know that."
Steve leaned into the embrace. "I do know that. I'm listening to you, okay? I can't make this feeling just go away, but it helps I could tell you about it."
Soda pulled away, pushing back the tears in his eyes. "Damn. I don't think my brothers are going to hear any giggling coming out of here tonight."
"Hey, like I already said, I do not giggle."
"Whatever, man. I've heard you."
"Yeah, yeah."
Soda picked up the deck of cards, his fingers fidgeting with the edges, before splitting it into halves, then thirds to partially shuffle them. "I heard him yelling at me and just kind of stared at him at first. I sort of froze, I guess. I won't ever forget that mask, Stevie. It's stuck in my head forever. You know how I had the oxygen mask in the hospital? And how TwoBit was goofing off with it that one time?"
"Yeah. I remember."
"That bothered me. I mean, his face wasn't totally covered, but it was enough to make me think of it."
"You did look like something bugged you right before you went back to sleep that night."
"I didn't even like seeing it was getting dark outside, man. Just knowing it was night made me scared. Anyway, I froze, but then, he yelled at me again, telling me to hurry up. I got the key to unlock the cash register."
Steve took in Soda's words, his own mind painting a picture of the scene he was describing. He saw his best friend close his eyes, then reached for his hand, holding it in a gentle, but steady, gesture of reassurance. "I'm right here with you, Soda. And I'm not going anywhere tonight."
Soda could feel himself shaking, as he talked through the memory, the fear still as palpable as it had been the night of the shooting. "I was trying. I really was. But I couldn't get the key in the lock cause I was shaking so much. I remember him telling me not to think he wouldn't shoot me. But I didn't think that. It was the only thing I could think about at all, and I was so scared. I told Darry I've never been that scared, and I really haven't."
Steve squeezed Soda's hand and felt him squeeze back. "I know you were scared, buddy."
Soda leaned forward and laid his head down on his lap, his grip on Steve's hand growing tighter. "I remember thinking he was going to shoot me in the chest or something, and I'd die right there."
Steve outwardly cringed at the image that created, picturing Soda in the middle of the DX with a bullet in his chest, not breathing, his heart struggling to keep beating. No, he told himself. Don't go there. Keep listening to him. He needs it. He needs you.
"He yelled at me some more, said he was done with me. I had just gotten the key in the damn lock." Soda let go of Steve's hand and drew his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. "I can't do this, Stevie. I can't."
Steve remained beside Soda, and put his arm over his shoulders. Bowing his head, he found what he wanted to do most came naturally. "God, please touch Soda. He needs you right now. I know you see how much he's hurting and how he's trying to talk through all these memories that keep bothering him. So please bring him some peace. I'm doing everything I can, God. I'm here to listen, to hug him, to remind him I couldn't love him more if we did share blood. I want him to know I wouldn't be here without him."
Soda listened to Steve's prayer, the words touching his heart, as he felt his best friend's head leaning on his shoulder.
"I'm not even sure exactly what to pray for, but I have to tell you that I'm so thankful Soda's here. I'm so thankful he lived and that he's not hurt worse. And I know you don't just make pain disappear, but you do help us get through it. So please do that, God. Give him strength, and help him feel better inside."
Soda turned his head to look at Steve, the openness in the prayer helping him find his voice to speak within the turmoil of memories too vivid to escape. "I heard him cock the gun, then I heard the shot."
Steve rubbed Soda's shoulder, as he lifted his head up to see his face.
"I felt the bullet hit me, and I couldn't think or anything. I just knew it hurt real bad. I remember ending up on the floor and seeing him take the money out of the register. I was kind of afraid he'd shoot me again too."
Steve saw tears fall out of Soda's eyes, and acting purely on an impulse to comfort him, used his thumb to wipe them away. "It's okay, man. You're safe now."
Soda shifted, so he sat cross-legged, exhaling shakily. "I was bleeding so much, and I remember thinking I needed help. I wasn't close to the phone, and I just couldn't move to try to get up or anything."
"And you knew Darry was on his way too."
"Yeah. I haven't said this to him, but if he'd gotten there much sooner, he would've walked right into it. I'm glad that didn't happen. Thankful. Just like what I said about you being at home."
"I know, buddy. I just hate so much that you were alone even for a little bit, while you were hurt like that."
"I was sitting there and pressing my hand against my arm, but it didn't help the bleeding. I remember wondering if I could die from it, even though I didn't get shot in the head or the chest or anywhere like that. The way it felt and looked, I was sure I could. I even thought I might."
Steve, the impulse to comfort rising again, put his arms around Soda, the thought that he could've lost his best friend making him never want to let go. "I feel like I could tell you over and over how glad I am that you're okay, and it'll never be enough. There are just no words for it."
Soda held onto Steve, words of reminiscence falling from his lips, before he could stop them. "I felt like that too when you were in the hospital. But there was so much I wanted to say to you and didn't."
"Like what, man?"
"I- Maybe I shouldn't have said that. I already told you what I needed to that day in the church when I was still so scared and sad about what happened."
"Yeah, and you said a lot then. What else was there?"
"Just... Things I couldn't say when you were trying to recover."
Steve pulled away from the hug, but stayed close to Soda. "I'm not trying to recover now."
"I was just so glad you were going to be okay, and I wanted you to know I was still there for you. I didn't want to hurt you more."
"You don't have to tell me, Soda. But you usually don't bring up stuff if you don't need to say more about it."
Soda looked down at his lap, realizing their conversation was shifting in a direction he hadn't anticipated. "I- I guess I've kind of been thinking about when, um, I went to see you in the hospital the first time and the things you said to me then."
"Okay. Why?"
"Cause I think I might understand them better now."
"How so, man?"
"Don't get me wrong, Stevie, cause I know what you went through was going on for so much longer, and you had all that inside you felt and never even got to-"
Steve stopped Soda with a hand on his arm. "It's not a contest, buddy."
"But it was so much worse, and you couldn't talk or-"
"Soda, just tell me. I'm not taking anything you say like that."
"I mean, I guess I can see how you could feel like you'd never get better and how you'd just want to make it stop. I know it ain't the same kind of pain or anything, and I haven't had the flashbacks for that long, but I understand in a way I couldn't before now."
"Like I've already said, it's all different, but that doesn't mean it's not hard. I don't think it has to take a long time to feel overwhelmed either when you're dealing with something like this, man."
"The thoughts I told you I've had, they're what make me think about seeing you in the hospital. They make me remember the things I felt like saying and couldn't."
"Okay."
"When you were talking to me and still feeling so bad because of" Soda paused, looking up at Steve to gauge his reaction to his words. "what you did, I remember thinking that if you had died, you really never could get better. It would be the worst thing that could happen cause we couldn't help you anymore. You'd have just been gone."
Steve was silent for a few moments, allowing himself to feel Soda's words sink in, the truths going deep down to touch his soul.
Soda stared at Steve, contemplating finding a way to apologize for bringing up a subject that would forever affect his best friend. "We don't have to talk about this. It was just something I thought of. I don't mean to-"
Steve cut into Soda's retraction, shaking his head, as he once again reached for his hand. "Buddy, you're right. None of that is what I would've needed to hear in the hospital, but you're not wrong at all."
"So when I have those thoughts, I tell myself the same things. Cause I want to remember dying wouldn't be better. I couldn't heal at all then. If he had killed me, I wouldn't even have a chance to get through this."
"That's right, man."
"And if I died, instead of waking up in the morning, if I wasn't here anymore, I couldn't talk to you about all of this. I couldn't try going back to work. I wouldn't get to see if I can recover at all."
"Exactly. And just like you said, we couldn't all help you. You can recover too, buddy. I know you can."
Soda could still feel Steve's hand wrapped around his own, as he went back to the night of the shooting, picking up where he'd left off. "I won't ever forget any of it, really, but hearing Darry's voice... I knew he'd help me. It was like he didn't even have to think too."
"I'm sure he didn't have to. It's you, Sodapop. Doing everything he could had to be automatic."
"Yeah. I know. But it felt good, I guess. I mean, just to have him there did, then knowing he was trying to stop the bleeding and calling for help made me not as scared. I don't remember it all, but I do remember him sitting there and holding me."
"I swear every time I call him Superman now, I'm going to think of this."
"I kind of remember being in the ambulance and all, but not that much. I even sort of remember being in the emergency room, but I felt pretty out of it and still so in shock over what happened. It didn't feel real, you know? None of it did."
"I can dig that feeling too. I don't think bad stuff ever does feel real at first. It's like it hurts too much, so it has to be that way until we can handle it."
"I still wake up and kind of feel this jolt when I realize it did happen. I really did get shot."
"I know I ain't you, man, but sometimes, I've felt that too. It feels weird cause it'll just hit me again that it really happened to you."
Soda looked over at his injured arm, then pulled his other hand out of Steve's grip to touch the bandage. "I know how lucky I was. I do. But I don't ever forget cause I can't. This makes it impossible."
"That's going to heal up a lot more, man. And they'll treat whatever damage there is, so it'll feel better too."
"I hope so. But I'll always have a scar."
"You know what a scar means though? That you survived. You lived to tell the story."
Soda couldn't help the smile that crossed his face, a touch of amusement beginning to lighten up his features. "That's deep, man."
"Hey, I guess I've learned a few things lately."
Soda's expression faltered, the honesty they'd chosen to dive into for the night coming back to the forefront of his mind. "The day I pulled on those stitches, I really didn't mean to. But I think there might've been more to it."
"More to it? Like what?"
"Like maybe because the wound is this reminder of what happened to me, the memories of the shooting made me want to-" Soda cut off his own thought, attempting to dismiss it. "No. Never mind. It sounds crazy, and it makes me sound crazy too."
"Do you think you did that because you wish you could get rid of it? Like it's bothering you it's there, so that made you want to, I don't know. Do something, anything, to it?"
"Yeah. Pretty much. It sounds like I'm really fuckin' crazy, doesn't it?"
"No. It doesn't. Damn. Look what I did. I tried to kill myself, so I couldn't remember the abuse anymore. I tried to make my life go away, man. Pain will make you want to do whatever it seems like you can."
A smile found its way to Soda's face once more, though tears were shining in his eyes. "And I thought I was supposed to be the one who understands people the best."
Steve smiled back at his best friend, while resting a hand on his shoulder. "Like I said, I've learned a few things lately."
"A few? I think you've learned a lot, Stevie."
"Yeah. I guess I have. Hey, why don't we grab a drink and go outside for a while? I think we both could use it."
Samuel's eyelids were heavy, as he underlined the verses in chapter 41 of Isaiah: "...Fear not, for I am with you, be not dismayed, for I am your God, I will strengthen you. I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
"Do you really believe I can recover?"
Steve didn't even have to contemplate Soda's question, his response certain, as he stood with his elbows propped on the porch railing. "Of course I do, man." He took a swallow from his can of Pepsi, before joining his best friend on the swing. "I don't just know you can, I know you will."
Soda played their conversation back in his mind, going over the memories and feelings he'd shared. He recognized the meaning in those moments, as he breathed in the night air. "What if they still don't get better? What if I still have the flashbacks?"
"Buddy, it's going to take more than one conversation. You know that, right?"
"Yeah. I know."
"But you're going to be able to cope with them better, if you're not keeping it all inside. I can promise you that."
"I'm just really hoping it won't happen as much now."
"Me too, man. I hoping for that too." Steve looked out at the front yard, the words of his earlier prayer fresh in his mind, as his gaze shifted up, at the same time he touched Soda's shoulder. "And I'm praying for that. I'm praying for it right now."
Samuel sought guidance in the words of Jesus himself: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid."
