The clouds of darkness descended, bringing with them the power to alter and confuse, giving rise to seeds that, if sown, could grow into blooms of destruction.


I need to breathe.

But I don't want to.

My chest is going to explode.

That's better than the pain above water.


"Are you out of your mind, TwoBit?"

TwoBit leaned on the counter across from Steve, gulping down the Pepsi he'd just attempted to swipe from the DX. "Hey, not long ago, you told me my head was empty."

Steve rolled his eyes, as he rang up the drink. "Oh yeah? You're letting the stuff I say stick with you now?"

"Only so I can throw it back at you."

Steve took the coins TwoBit handed him and deposited them in the register. "Oh, I'll find something to throw at you, all right."


Soda's head lifted out of the water, air filling his lungs against his will, as his body's urge for survival rose above the desire to surrender.


"Don't you have anything better to do, TwoBit?"

TwoBit looked up, pretending to think about Steve's question. "No. Not today."

Steve gave his friend's shoulder a shove, as he moved past him to open the box he'd left near the refrigerator. "I just ain't sure about you sometimes, man."

"Only sometimes? Hey, you're Soda's best buddy. Does he seem down on himself to you?"

Steve paused after he opened the refrigerator, the cold air hitting his face. "Why?"

"Just something he said to me and even the way he said it, you know?"

Steve picked bottled drinks up out of the box, restocking a shelf in the refrigerator, as he spoke. "Yeah. I know exactly what you mean."


Soda sat up, the water moving in quick waves around him, as he breathed in deeply, the pressure on his chest now relieved. He looked down at his right arm, seeing that he'd let the healing injury submerge in the bath, though it didn't appear to be affected.

Soda pulled the plug, hearing the water begin to drain. He remained there, watching the tub empty itself, the daring liquid of soothing serenity in which he'd immersed himself becoming a memory.


"Hey, Soda, can you hand me that fork right there?"

Soda didn't hear Pony's words at first, his eyes on the plate of food in front of him.

Pony tried again. "Soda?"

Darry sat down between his brothers, handing Pony the fork, before touching Soda's shoulder. "Hey, Sodapop, you okay there, little buddy?"

Soda broke out of his thoughts. "Oh. Yeah. Sure, Dar. I'm fine. Just tired."

Pony took a bite of his mashed potatoes. "Tired? You said you slept all night."

Darry picked up a knife, using it to cut up his pork chop. "So opening the window helped?"

Soda looked at his plate that remained nearly untouched. "Yeah. It helped a lot."

Darry ate his pork chop, as he watched Soda, his middle brother's expression adding to his curiosity. "Not hungry either?"

Soda took a bite of his roll, his appetite barely present. "Um, not really."

Pony drank the chocolate milk that was in front of him. "I didn't know it was even possible to fill you up."

Soda shrugged, taking a bite of mashed potatoes simply to satisfy his brothers. "Well, I guess it is."


"Hey, buddy, what have you been up to tonight?"

Soda sat down on the porch swing, as Steve was coming up the steps. "Not much of anything."

Steve took out a cigarette and lit it, before sitting beside Soda. "Really wasn't busy at all even after you left."

Soda traced a finger along the wood panels that made up the seat of the swing, the ground peeking up at him from between the slats. "Oh."

Steve blew out a puff of smoke, flicking ashes to the ground, as he put a hand on Soda's shoulder. "So I'm just going to jump right in here. I had a flashback a couple of days ago when my dad said something to me that was a lot like what Clara said once."

"What could your dad say that would sound anything like her?"

"He was mad at me because I said something I shouldn't have to Audrey. We straightened it out, but anyway, you know about when Clara" Steve paused, taking a drag off his cigarette, as he glanced around, making certain no one else was near. "got angry at me and made me touch her."

"Yeah. You told me about that."

"I'd asked about her going back to her own house, and that night, when she came in my room, she said 'how dare you say such a thing.'"

"Your dad said something like that to you?"

"Yep. Because of how I was being a pain in the ass. My brain went right back to that memory, as soon as he said 'how dare you,' and I could hear everything she said to me that night. I could feel her all over again too."

"Are you okay? I had no idea that happened, Stevie."

"Yeah. I'm okay now. I wasn't for a few minutes, but my dad helped me get through it."

"So just those words, they did that to you?"

"They did."

"Oh."

"So what happened at work today, it's not stupid. You believe me now?"

"I guess so. I could hear the robber when that guy said- when he said what he did."

"I know you could, buddy. I got it right away."

"But not even just that. I could hear and see everything again."

"I bet it wasn't even only the words that made it so bad, man. Think about it. You didn't hear it at home or something. You heard them in the same place you got shot."

"Yeah. I know."

"But, either way, that's still such a fresh memory for you, and you're over here trying to process it."

"That's true."

"Words really stick in your brain sometimes. Good ones and bad ones. Thoughts stick too, and it can be a pain in the ass to control any of it."

"So how do you?"

Steve put his cigarette out, then tossed it away, his voice contemplative, as he squeezed Soda's shoulder. "I think you just learn to understand and accept it and give yourself whatever you need to live with it."


Soda's head lie at the edge of the window sill, his pillow tucked underneath him.

What the hell was I thinking?

Soda's eyes stared at the sky, as air moving through the open window.

I was thinking I only wanted to feel the water.

Soda closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, feeling the beat of his heart, as he held it.

But what was I trying to do?

Soda let out the breath, as he opened his eyes, the full answers to the questions in his mind more than he could bear to admit just yet.

I was trying not to breathe.

"Hey, man, why do you keep disappearing on me lately?"

Soda didn't move away from the window when he heard Steve's voice speaking to him. He only shrugged, finding he didn't have the words to explain without risking telling his best friend too much of the truth.

Steve sat on the bed with Soda, settling near the other end of the window sill and resting his arm on it. "So did this help?"

"Huh? Did what help?"

"Opening the window and moving your bed here. Did it help you sleep?"

"Oh. Yeah. It did help."

Steve saw Soda draw his arms up on the window sill and bury his face in them. He reached over and touched his back. "What is it, man?"

I can't tell you, Soda thought. "Just not feeling so great." I can't tell you the rest, so please don't ask.

"I know how you feel about seeing a counselor, buddy. And I don't blame you. But I want to tell you to think about it again, okay? You have a lot going on in that head of yours. Even some stuff that isn't only because of the shooting."

"Yeah."

"Especially after what you told me on Sunday, I want you to have any help that you can." Steve put his arm around Soda and gave him a squeeze. "And while I'm on that, please know you can always come to me with those feelings if it happens anymore. Maybe it won't, but I'm just saying. You've always made sure I know I can come to you, so I'm doing the same.

"Thanks, Stevie." It has, Soda thought. It has happened more. "I do know."

"Samuel gave you his phone number, right?"

"Yeah."

"I think you should call him. I'm not just saying that cause you talked to him before. I'm saying it because I have too, and he helped a lot."

"Okay." But if I call him, Soda thought, it'll all spill out. "Maybe I will." I'll tell him this too.

"Like I said, I want you to have any help you can."

Soda sat up, then put his arms around Steve, laying his head on his shoulder.

Steve hugged his friend back, praying silently as he did. "Just need a hug, buddy?"

"Yeah." Soda held on tighter. No, he thought. I need to tell you something. I need to tell someone. "I guess I do." But I can't.


"I told Audrey about Clara today."

Steve looked up from the homework he was checking over, as he heard Nicholas' words. "Oh. How'd that go?"

Nicholas sat down beside Steve and put one arm around him. "Okay. Once I started talking, it wasn't so hard to keep going, and she didn't say much. She mostly listened."

"So what'd you tell her?"

"Just what I said I would. I told her about the abuse and about me and you."

Steve looked at Nicholas, failing to keep a straight face. "Well, if all that didn't scare her away, I guess nothing will."


"Darry, I don't want to, okay? I don't feel like doing anything."

Darry sighed, then joined Soda on the back porch steps. "All right, little buddy. I was just asking. You've barely been anywhere for weeks."

Soda leaned on the porch rail, resting his head against it. "Sorry. Didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's okay. I can handle it, Pepsi Cola."

"I think of Dad every time you call me that."

"Should I not call you that?"

"No. I want you to. I mean, I like it, Dar. I like to think of Dad."

"Okay. Just checking."

"We'll see them again one day, right?"

"Mom and Dad? Sure we will."

"Heaven must be real nice."

"I'd imagine so. I'm sure it's beautiful."

"They talk about it at church. About how there's nothing bad up there. No pain or sickness or anything."

"That's what makes it Heaven."

"One time when Samuel told us we could pray and ask Jesus to be in our hearts and to, you know, forgive our sins, I did it. So I can go to Heaven. But I didn't do it just for that. I want God to hear me and be there for me. I want him to know I believe in him."

"He knows, little buddy. He knew even before you prayed."

"He knows all the stuff I think and feel."

"He sure does. That's what makes him God."

A moment of silence fell over the two brothers, and Soda felt Darry slip his arm around him. I want to, he thought. I want to tell you how much it really hurts. "Yeah, he wouldn't be God if I had to tell him everything for him to know about it." But I'm afraid to tell you what only God knows right now. I'm afraid of what you'd say.

"But it helps to do that anyway, right? Isn't that what prayer is?"

Soda looked up at the sky, as he moved his head to lean on Darry's shoulder. "Yeah. That's exactly what it is."


"Are you okay, Dad? I was just joking. Please don't look like that."

Nicholas broke out of the daze he'd fallen into, replying to Steve. "I know, Son. I know you were joking."

Steve closed the folder in his lap and set it down on the nightstand. "Okay. But you don't look like it. What's wrong?"

"Just talking about all of that again, it's painful. Especially when I remember how you and I used to be."

"But that's not us anymore."

"It feels hard to believe that it ever was. I can't even imagine not talking to you like this, Son. Not being there for you."

"I can't imagine it either. But that's a good thing, Dad. Cause it tells you how far away from that we are. It tells you how far we've come."

"That's true, and you're right, Son. If hearing about all of this didn't do it, then nothing could scare Audrey away."


"I don't mean to break into your thoughts there, little buddy. But I think I need to ask you something."

Soda lifted his head from Darry's shoulder, dread forming inside, as he wondered what his big brother was going to ask him. "Okay."

Darry still had his arm around Soda and gripped his shoulder. "I'm not saying you shouldn't talk about Mom and Dad or about Heaven. But what you said just now about there not being anything bad or any pain, that bothers me when you look the way you do right now."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's only been a couple of days since you told me you'd been feeling like hurting yourself. So hearing you talk about Heaven, that makes me worry what you're thinking tonight."

"But I- I'm not thinking anything, Dar. And how do I look right now anyway? What are you saying?"

"You look like you're feeling down, little buddy. That's all I'm saying."

"Oh. Well, I guess- I guess I am. But when I was talking about Heaven, I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean I was thinking I could, you know, go there or anything."

"Okay. I was just wanting to check on you. I was going to anyway, especially since you had a rough time at work earlier."

"I don't think I feel as bad about that as I did."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it." Darry started to stand, expecting Soda to follow. "Why don't we both head to bed, little buddy? It's going to be a busy morning."

Soda reached for Darry's arm. "Hang on, Dar. Everyone's been checking on me. What about you?"

Darry sat back down, searching Soda's gaze that was on him. "What about me?"

"It was hard for you to be back there, wasn't it? At the DX?"

"Yeah. It was."

"You can tell me stuff like that, you know. You're always going out of your way for me. If I can, I want to help you feel better too."

"Thanks, Pepsi Cola. I know I can tell you, and I'll keep that in mind."


"Okay, we're all done here, sweetie."

Soda felt the nurse slide the needle out of his arm, able to see a small dot of blood that remained on his punctured skin. A piece of gauze was pressed onto the area, tape placed over it.

The nurse disposed of the used needle, then placed the labeled vials of blood in a container.

Soda watched her also dispose of her gloves, then wash her hands with soap and water, before she removed a hospital gown from a cabinet beside the sink. "Do I have to put that on?"

The nurse unfolded the thin blue material of the gown, then handed it to Soda. "Yes, sweetie. Put this on and wait here. It shouldn't be long."

After the nurse had left the exam room, Soda took his t-shirt off and slipped his arms through the sleeves of the gown. He pulled it over his shoulders, noticing Darry was looking at him. "Nice look for me, huh, Dar?"

Darry got up from his chair and went over to be near Soda. "Yeah, little buddy, it's your color too."

"I heard blue is supposed to bring out my eyes." Soda hopped down from the exam table and undid the button of his jeans, sliding them off.

Darry reached for two of the strings on the back of the gown and started to tie them together.

Soda held still, quiet as Darry moved on to tie the second pair of strings, then the last.

"I thought you'd be bouncing off the walls in here, little buddy."

Soda shrugged, as he felt Darry's hands come to rest on each of his shoulders. "Yeah. I just don't feel like it."

Darry rubbed Soda's back and shoulders, able to feel the tension in his brother. "You can relax, Sodapop. It's all going to be okay. These tests are nothing very difficult to go through, remember?"

Soda looked over to see Darry grinning at him, and he grinned back. "I know."

"All right, little buddy. So tell me. Do you think that nurse was hot or what?"

Soda burst out laughing. "Geez, Dar, that ain't what I was expecting you to say at all."

"Well, I distracted you, didn't I? Besides, I do think she was hot."

"And I think she was way too old for you, big brother."


"What if something really awful is going on with Soda?"

Steve scowled at Pony. "What the hell are you talking about, Kid?"

Pony followed behind Steve, but then reached for his arm. "I'm serious, Steve."

Steve led Pony away from the main part of the hallway, stopping near a closed classroom door. "So what are you asking me here, Ponyboy?"

Pony shifted under Steve's gaze, looking down at his feet. "I mean- I just-"

Steve's expression softened, along with his voice. "I'm sorry, Kid. You can say whatever it is you wanted to."

"I just meant what if they do these tests today, and it's worse than the doctor thinks. Like worse than even nerve damage."

"I don't think there's a reason to worry about that, Pony. A lot of the time, Soda seems like he's doing better with his arm and all. It's not like his symptoms are worse or anything."

"I just don't like thinking there's anything wrong, you know? It's not bad enough that he got shot? Or that it's bothering him so much?"

"I know. Believe me, Kid. I know. But just think of the tests like this, all right? They're doing them, so the doc knows what Soda needs. So then, he can figure out the best way to take care of him.


"Take it easy, little buddy."

Soda lie back on the exam table and felt Darry rub his shoulder, as a technician placed electrodes on his skin, sticky patches that he'd explained would record nerve activity. "I'm trying, Dar."

The technician put the last electrode on Soda's forearm, all four now placed over the nerves possibly affected by the gunshot. "All right, Mr. Curtis, I-"

Soda shook his head, looking at the patches that decorated his right arm, none of them far from the uncovered injury itself. "Call me, Sodapop. Please."

The technician nodded, smiling at Soda. "Okay then, Sodapop. Each of these electrodes are able to deliver very mild shocks when stimulated by the one I showed you earlier. When they do that, you'll feel a bit of a jolt. It's nothing to worry about and nothing that can hurt you. It's simply to record the responsive electrical activity of the nerves in your arm. Any questions before we start?"

Soda turned his head to look at Darry. "You're staying in here, right?"

Darry nodded, taking a seat in the chair across from the monitor that would display the waves of nerve activity. "I'll be right here, and you'll do just fine, little buddy."


"Oh. Hey, Evie. I didn't even see you there. What's up?"

Evie's gaze locked with Steve's, the whole speech she'd planned suddenly leaving her mind blank. "Um, I wanted to ask you something, Steve."

Steve shrugged, as he put his history book and English notebook in his locker. "Okay."

"Do you think we could go out sometime?"

Steve stared at the inside of his locker. "Uh. Go out? You mean like a date?"

"Yes. I guess. Yeah, that's what I mean."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Evie. I'm sorry."


"Damn, that does feel weird."

The monitor displayed the wave of nerve activity created by the electrode's stimulation, as Soda felt the shock pass through his body.


"But why not?"

Steve turned to look at Evie, speechless at first, as he tried to comprehend her questioning of his reply.

Evie stared back at her former boyfriend, interpreting the expression on his face. "What? It's been a long time, Steve."


Soda laid his head back against the vinyl cushion of the exam table, the next jolt of electricity making him look down at the patches on his arm. "Are we almost done?"

The technician eyed the monitor's display, making notes of the waves of activity. "We'll be done soon, Sodapop. You're doing great."


"You can't be serious, Evie."

Evie didn't move her gaze from Steve's face. "I am serious. It's been months."

Steve gripped the open door of his locker. "It's been just a few months, and that doesn't change what all happened between us. I don't want to go through any of that again. Is this just because you broke up with Kenneth?"

"No. I've really been thinking about you a lot. I was hoping we could try again. Maybe it'd be better."

"I can't, Evie. I can't do that. We did try again. I'm sorry, but it's still over."


Soda ran his fingers over the skin where the electrodes had been, able to feel traces of residue from the adhesive. "So what now?"


Steve slipped on his gym t-shirt, before taking a seat on the bench in the middle of the locker room, completely tuning out the noise and banter around him.


"It'll sting a bit, kind of like a shot."

Soda stared at the needle electrode the technician held. "Okay."

Darry stood near his brother's side, nodding toward the instrument . "So you put those in the muscles?"

The technician nodded. "Right. They'll record the electrical activity both when the muscles are at rest and when they're contracted. Basically, what you'll see on the monitor over here are waves that tell you how well Sodapop's muscles respond when the nerves are stimulated."


Steve heard the bell ring, as he finished tying his shoes, the locker room now empty. He shook his head, as if trying to clear it, the conversation with Evie one that had left him unsettled.


Soda flinched at the sting of the needle, as it slid into his muscle. "Ouch."

Darry saw how focused Soda was on the procedure, and knowing more electrodes were about to be inserted, set out to distract his brother. "Hey, Sodapop, did you get that nurse's name earlier?"

Soda looked up from the next needle about to slide beneath his skin. "What? Dar, she's too old for you. She's like thirty or something."

Darry saw a smile on Soda's face, even as the needle went in, so he kept going. "Thirty ain't old, little buddy."

Soda chuckled at his big brother. "Well, maybe not since you're over here getting old before your time anyway." He lifted his left hand, pointing at Darry's head. "That gray hair you've got says it all."

Darry smiled, noticing his little brother only flinch at little bit at the next needle's sting. "And just exactly who do you think gave me that gray hair?"

Soda tore his gaze away from Darry, the smile falling off his face, just in time to see the last needle go into his skin.


"Keep going, Randle! You're making great time!"

Steve's feet pounded the dirt track, hearing his coach shout to him, as he rounded the bend just after the quarter mile marker.


Soda let his right arm relax at his side, feeling a twinge of a shock move through him, as he looked at the waves on the monitor's display. "It's kind of tuff how that can tell you anything."

Darry hovered close by, watching both the monitor and Soda, not forgetting the earlier expression that had fallen over his little brother's face. "Yeah, it is."

The technician studied the waves and his notes. "All right, Sodapop. We're getting close to finished. I need you to bend your arm at the elbow again now. Only this time, do it more forcefully."

Darry chimed in, seeing another chance to make Soda smile. "Yeah, little buddy. Do it like you're showing off all that muscle you've got."


Steve drew in a breath of the fresh air that was blowing in his face, as he continued to run, nearing the one mile marker.


The last needle electrode slid out from underneath Soda's skin, and he lifted a hand to rub at the sore spots on his arm. "So is it all over now? Are we really finished?"

The technician moved all of the equipment to the side, as he nodded. "Yes. We're all done, Sodapop."

Darry spoke up next, as he reached for Soda's clothes that had been folded up and put on the other chair in the room. "How long until we know something about results?"

The technician picked up his clipboard, checking that each page of information was in order. "Probably a few days, so you should get a call from Dr. Simons by Monday." He turned to Soda. "You might have some soreness and bruising from the last procedure, but I assure you it's nothing to be concerned about."

Soda lifted his gaze up from his arm to meet the technician's eyes. "Okay. Thanks."

Darry nodded to the technician, as he slipped out of the exam room, leaving the two brothers alone. "Well, what do you say you get dressed and we both get on to work, little buddy?"

Soda lifted himself off the exam table, his socked feet touching the tile floor, as he took his clothes from Darry's lap. "Okay, Dar." He turned around, gesturing to the ties on the back of the gown. "Can you undo these please?"

"Of course." Darry stood to his feet and started to untie the top pair of strings.

Soda felt the gown loosen, as the back came completely undone.

"There you go" When Soda didn't move after a moment, Darry touched his shoulders, gently guiding him to turn around. "You did fine. I know that was all uncomfortable for you. But you're done. You're all right, Sodapop."

Soda's brown eyes met Darry's blue ones, as he held folded arms over the clothes he was about to put back on, so they could leave the hospital. But I'm not all right, he thought. I'm not. He lowered his head and pressed his face into his red t-shirt, feeling the gown slip from one of his shoulders, leaving it bare.

Darry eased Soda into a chair, pulling the other one closer, before he sat down himself. "You just need a minute, little buddy?"

Soda lifted his head to look at Darry, then nodded. "Yeah. I guess so."

Darry put his hand over Soda's, giving it a squeeze. "Okay. But we should go soon. Or they might decide to kick us out of here."

Soda felt a smile tug at his lips. "Yeah. Or I'll have to witness you asking that nurse out and her rejecting your ass."

Darry chuckled, as he let go of Soda's hand. "Rejecting me, huh? Damn, little brother. What are you talking about? I look good, and you know it."

Sod pulled the hospital gown off, then tugged his t-shirt on. "Hmm. Maybe. But not as good as me. I'm cuter."

Darry pulled Soda into a headlock, just as he was standing up to put his jeans on. "You want to say that again, little buddy?"

Soda laughed, instead of trying to get out of his brother's hold. "Yeah. I do. I'm cuter than you."

Darry felt a sigh of relief escape him, as he let his head rest against Soda's for a moment and listened to his little brother's laughter. "Uh huh, whatever you want to tell yourself there, Pepsi Cola." As long as you're smiling again, he thought, you can say anything you damn well want.


"Hey, Steve-O, what happened to your face?"

Steve snapped out of his thoughts, his reply to TwoBit quick. "You're one to talk, man. Look in the mirror lately?"

TwoBit kept up with Steve's fast pace that was leading them away from the gym. "Actually, yes, I have, and I really liked what I saw."

"We must not see the same thing."

"Come on, man, turn that frown upside down. You look like-"

Steve cut TwoBit off, pushing him out the set of double doors they were passing. "Please stop, TwoBit. Please."

TwoBit looked at Steve's face, the tears he could see in his eyes startling him. "What's wrong, Steve?"

Steve wiped at his eyes, feeling TwoBit lay a hand on his shoulder. "I can't talk about it here, man."

"All right, buddy. It's almost lunch time. You want to get out of here for a little while?"

"Yeah. That's probably a good idea."


"You're being quiet again, little buddy."

Soda glanced at Darry, as he chewed a bite of his bologna sandwich. "Just don't feel like saying anything, I guess."

Darry picked up his own ham sandwich and took another bite of it. "Oh. All right. Just wondered if you were thinking anything."

Soda stared at his healing arm, the bandage covering what remained of the wound that would soon fully transform into a scar. He flexed his fingers, attempting to drown out the persistent ache punctuated by sharp pangs of pain that would then radiate up. "Hey, Dar?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you drive me to work?"

"Sure. If you want me to. Why?"

"It's hurting, and that makes it hard to drive."

"Take an aspirin too, little buddy. That should help. But of course I'll drive you."


"It was just weird, man. The way she asked, then looked at me like I was crazy when I said no."

TwoBit sat beside Steve on the hood of his car, listening, as he told him about the conversation with Evie. "You ain't crazy, man. You didn't tell me much, but I pretty well got the gist about the two of you."

Steve glanced at his buddy, as he tapped his foot against the headlight underneath it. "It makes me wonder if I'm wrong or something, you know? Like I'm supposed to give it a chance. And maybe even like I owe it to her."


"I'm just going to take a piss, Dar. I'll be out in a minute!"

Darry nodded at Soda, then stepped out the front door, truck keys in hand.

Soda waited until the door closed behind his brother, before he picked up the phone and dialed the number on the slip of paper in front of him. He held his breath, as the line rang, only letting it out when he heard Samuel's greeting. "Hi. It's Sodapop. You said to call you if I needed to talk, and um, I think I really do."