A/N: So here's an early update! I'm at home recovering from an ear infection, and my household has also had an exposure to coronavirus, so I've had a ton of time on my hands lately and very little physical energy, which has resulted in quite a lot of writing. Since I'm crazily far ahead of myself and wrote this chapter over two months ago now (and have been so looking forward to posting it because I think things turn out a bit unexpectedly!)...Enjoy!:)
Lightning formed, masquerading as a beacon of hope, as it poised itself and prepared to strike.
"Audrey! I've been trying to call you, but you didn't pick up."
Audrey stepped forward to greet the surprised Nicholas with a peck on the lips. "I'm sorry. I got kind of busy over the last couple of days."
Nicholas slipped his arm around Audrey's waist, leading her into the living room. "It's okay. Not like it's been long at all. It's just after everything we talked about the last time we saw each other, I admit I sort of got a little worried."
"Worried? About what?"
"That you might not want to see me anymore."
"But why wouldn't I want to see you?"
Nicholas took a seat on the couch, taking Audrey's hand to guide her down beside him. "Everything I told you doesn't exactly make me look good."
"Nicholas, you don't look bad to me in the least. If anything, knowing all of this makes me love you even more."
"It does?"
"Of course. You told me about the mistakes you made, but you've done what you need to to take care of your son and mend your relationship. I know it was hard to tell me about your past, but you shared your heart with me too by doing it. You know what I think about that?"
Nicholas saw the smile beginning to cross Audrey's face, and he started to smile back at her. "What?"
Audrey touched the collar of Nicholas' shirt, then let her fingers brush over the stubble on his face, as she leaned closer to him. "I think it's sexy."
"Hey, Darry?"
Darry heard Soda's soft voice, more regret immediately falling on his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Sodapop. I know you don't like being in the middle of our arguments. That's why I just walked away earlier."
Soda closed the door to his big brother's bedroom, before sitting down with him. "It's okay. But I wish you wouldn't be so hard on Pony. You already know that though."
"I shouldn't have blown up at him, but I'm not even mad about the damn grades anymore."
"What are you mad about then?"
"What he said to me. But I'm pissed about it cause it hurt."
"What did he say to you?"
"That not everyone is like me and can keep going like nothing hurts. Is that really how I come off? Am I that much of an asshole?"
"Aw, Dar. He was just mad too. Maybe to him, you do come off like that sometimes, but that's just because he doesn't always see what's going on with you. Just like you didn't see that he might've been having a hard time at school."
"I should've listened to him. I should've just stopped and listened. But I lost it and started yelling instead."
"I'm sorry, Darry. I'm sorry it's like this. Pony told me some stuff, and they were things I had no idea he was thinking. I don't want him lousing up his school work cause of me. I don't want you two fighting cause of me either."
"It's not because of you, little buddy. I wasn't even going to tell you about it at all, but then, things were so tense. Pony and me ain't exactly good at resolving it when we fight."
"You two still just don't understand each other all the time, Dar. But you're better than you used to be. I can see that. You just gotta remember to take a breath and listen to him."
"He should've been able to tell me, you know. He should've been able to come to me and say he was having a hard time focusing. He talks to me now, Sodapop. I knew he was worried about you cause he told me. I just didn't realize though."
"I think school is hard for for ya'll to get on the same page with, you know? You want him to do great. He wants to do great. But it's a lot of pressure for both of you. And I'm trying to keep myself together, okay? I don't want anything to be harder than it already is. There's stuff I haven't told Pony, and now, I know I shouldn't cause it would be way too much for him."
"I know, little buddy. I know you're doing what you can. And you're right about me and Pony. We just need to get on the same page."
"I told you you didn't scare her away, Dad."
Nicholas turned his head at the sound of Steve's loud voice that had come from the driveway he'd just pulled into. "Hey, Son. You have to tease me before you even get out of your car?"
Audrey sat beside Nicholas on the porch swing, her hand tucked into his. "Hi, Steve, your dad was just telling me stories about when you were a kid."
Steve slid out of the Ford, closing the driver's side door, before he started up the walk. "Oh yeah? He remembers everything, so I hope you got lots of time to listen."
Nicholas rolled his eyes, as he smiled. "I don't remember everything."
Steve made his way up the porch steps. "You do too, Dad. You remember little things from when I was like four or five years old."
Audrey chimed in then. "Oh, he was talking about when you were even younger."
Steve nudged his dad's shoulder. "All right, don't go embarrassing me, Dad."
Nicholas chuckled. "You mean the way you embarrass me? Oh, I'd never do that."
Steve looked at Audrey. "I'm real glad he didn't scare you off. Cause I'd definitely miss this a whole lot."
"I'll never know how you keep smoking and still run like the wind, Kiddo."
Pony felt Darry sit down beside him on the back porch steps, as he blew smoke from his mouth. "Don't know either. Just do."
Darry looked out at the darkness of the backyard, the quiet contrasting with his current state of mind. "I'm sorry, Ponyboy. I shouldn't have yelled at you or accused you of not trying. I'm sorry for being so tough on you when I should've realized there's more going on."
Pony inhaled one more puff of his cigarette, breathing it in, before he put it out and tossed it away, the smoke slowly drifting from his lips. "It's not like I don't want to do well, Darry. You know I only have a hard time with school if something is wrong."
Darry could hear the shake in Pony's voice and put his arms around him. "I know. I do know that. I should've thought of it when you showed me the tests."
Pony couldn't keep the tears back, as he pressed his face into Darry's chest. "I love Soda. I love him so much. I need him to be okay. He told me he is, and I don't even believe him."
Darry rested his chin on top of Pony's head, as he held him. "But he will be okay, Pone. He will."
"How can you know that?"
I just do. Like I told you, I'm keeping an eye on him. I'm taking care of him, helping him get through everything. I want you to know something else too."
Pony pulled away from Darry, though his big brother's arm was still wrapped around him. "What's that?"
"I don't always keep going, Pony. I know you haven't seen it, but I have to stop sometimes because it hurts me to see Soda in pain. I'm not always focused and able to think. So I do understand."
"I'm sorry I said what I did, Dar. That wasn't right either."
"It's okay. Come to me first next time, all right? If you're feeling like it's hard to study or anything like that because of what's on your mind, tell me. I won't be angry about it, and I promise I'll help you."
"Hey, Son, I just wanted to tell you good night."
Steve saw Nicholas' face looking in at him, as he got comfortable underneath the covers of his bed. "Night, Dad. I really am glad about Audrey."
Nicholas crossed the room to sit on the edge of Steve's bed and reached out to stroke his son's hair. "Me too. I was happy to see her."
"I could tell." Steve grinned up at Nicholas, yawning, as he felt his touch. "What's this for?"
"I just feel like it. It was okay for me to tell Audrey stories about when you were a kid, right?"
"Sure, Dad. Tell her anything you want."
"It's nice to talk and to share things with her." Nicholas leaned down and kissed Steve's forehead. "And it's nice to talk about the memories I want to keep."
"I'm so nervous, Stevie."
Steve shifted his car into gear, driving away from the Curtis' house, as he looked over at Soda. "I know, man. I won't tell you not to be, but I will tell you all you have to do is talk to her. Just answer whatever she asks."
Soda sat in the passenger seat, the row of houses passing him by, as he stared out the rolled-down window. "What do you think she'll ask me?"
"Well, I mean, I don't know her, so I can't say for sure. But when I first met Laura, she asked me to tell her about myself and what was going on in my life."
"But did you? The very first time?"
"You know I didn't get far, but yeah. I told her I was having a rough time, that I was sad and angry. Stuff like that. I told her there was something in my past that bothered me. When she asked what it was, that's when I decided I couldn't do it just yet and left."
"So what about when you did decide to go back, what'd Laura say then?"
"She just basically let me tell her what I wanted to whenever I was ready. I told her why I walked out of the first session. I did tell her about the abuse that time too, but not very much. There was never, you know, any pressure."
"Cause that wouldn't have worked for you, would it? I remember how scared you were then, even though you wouldn't admit it at first."
"Yeah, and that first session, I hadn't even told my dad everything yet. It was still so weird to be talking about the abuse at all. I was even trying to get used to you knowing about it since I hadn't told anybody before."
"I might not say much today either, but I'll at least try to explain what happened. I'll tell her about the shooting."
"I think that'd be a good start, buddy, and that's really all you need for now."
"They're just basic questions, little buddy. Information they need for everyone who comes here."
Soda heard Darry's reassurances, as he held a pen, letting it hover above the form in his lap, while he read over it. "Yeah. I guess they are. Not like I have any history of anything, so not much to say."
Steve sat on Soda's other side, his eyes scanning the waiting room that held only a handful of uncomfortable chairs and a glass window with a receptionist behind it.
Soda wrote out his name and contact information, then paused to stretch out his hand and fingers.
Darry saw the action and raised his eyebrows. "Does it hurt to write?"
Soda resumed a loose grip on the pen. "It's aching a little anyway, and I can't hold the pen real tight. But I can do it."
Darry saw Soda flip the form over, a checklist on the back page. "Looks like you've just gotta check off any of that you've had lately."
Soda's eyes scanned the list that included, nervousness/anxiety, fatigue, persistently low mood, and suicidal ideation.
Steve saw Soda's hesitation and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Checking it off doesn't mean you gotta talk about it today, buddy."
Soda nodded, the pen in his hand forming check marks beside several of the listed problems. "That ain't what I have, is it?"
Darry followed Soda's gaze to where his pen pointed, seeing the terms, paranoia and hallucinations. "No, little buddy. I think paranoid is thinking somebody is following you or something like that. Not being scared like you have been."
Steve considered the word hallucination, before adding his thoughts on the matter. "And flashbacks aren't a hallucination, as much as they can feel like it. Reliving a memory ain't the same as seeing or hearing things that aren't there."
Soda made two more check marks beside anger/ irritability and frequent crying, before he moved on to the next section of the form that asked him to indicate any recent potentially traumatic experiences. "What's it mean by recent?"
Darry pointed to the print just above the list of possible life events. "It says the past six months."
Soda nodded, looking over the list that included, being the victim of a crime and sustaining a life-threatening illness or injury, putting a check beside both of these.
Steve sat back against the vinyl of the chair, seeing the rest of the list Soda was reading over, loss of family member or close friend, significant change in family dynamics, and loss of personal relationship jumping out at him.
Soda moved on to the bottom of the form, signing his name and writing the date. "Okay. So what now?"
"So, Sodapop, is it? Or do you go by Patrick?"
Soda could see Alice Grayson's green eyes, studying him over the rims of her glasses. "Um, I go by Sodapop. Or Soda."
Ms. Grayson reached for the legal pad of paper, beginning to jot notes down on one of the blue lines. "Okay. It's fine if you just call me Ms. Grayson. You're eighteen, right? A senior?"
"No. I, uh, actually dropped out my sophomore year. My parents died in a car wreck when I was sixteen. My older brother got custody of me and our younger brother. We needed money, so I got a full time job."
"Oh. I see. I'm sorry to hear about your parents. So tell me about your brothers."
"My older brother is Darry, and my younger one is Ponyboy. Darry is 22. Pony is fifteen."
"Do you get along with both of them very well?"
"Yeah. We're real close."
"Since you work full-time, what do you do?"
"I work at the DX station over on Fifth."
"Okay. Do you like your job?"
"Yeah. I actually do. It's been tough lately, but I still like being there. I've got a good boss, and my best buddy works with me too."
"What's been tough for you recently?"
"Well, I uh, was out of work for a little while because I got shot. A guy robbed the station one night."
"Did you have to be hospitalized?"
"Yeah. Just for a couple of days cause I had surgery. The bullet went into my arm, and I bled a whole lot. Darry had already been on his way to pick me up, and he got there right after. He called for help."
"So how are you doing now?"
"Better in some ways. I went back to work this past Monday."
"Are there other ways in which you're not doing better?"
"Yeah. That's kind of why I'm here, you know? It's been hard to cope with what happened. Cause I got so scared. I've been trying, but my feelings and the stuff going on in my head, it just gets worse."
"You get scared because of the shooting?"
"Yeah, and it took me a little bit to even be able to talk about it at all. It's been bothering me an awful lot ever since that night."
"Bothering you how?"
"I've um, had nightmares and times where I feel like it's happening to me all over again. I only even get what that is because my best buddy, Steve, he has flashbacks of some stuff. So he's helped me a lot."
"You have intrusive memories of the robbery and the shooting that draw you into episodes you believe are flashbacks?"
"Yeah. It's too real. I'll get all anxious, and I really have to focus on what or who's around me."
"Okay. So how have you been feeling otherwise? Have you resumed a normal routine?"
"Pretty much. But I'm scared a lot. I still have trouble sleeping sometimes. And I guess I get where I just feel sad. I cry kind of a lot too. It's like I never forget about that night either."
"I see. It's pretty normal to feel sad or scared after experiencing something life-threatening."
"Yeah. I hope so. Cause I've been a lot of both those things. It's hard to know what to do about it, and I came here to see if maybe you could tell me."
"I know I haven't gotten around to telling you this, but thank you, Steve."
Steve turned to look at Darry, the words unexpected. "You actually have told me sometimes. But for what?"
Darry had to smile at the question. "For being here for Soda all the time. What else?"
"You don't gotta tell me that, Superman. Not like I'd ever think of doing anything else. It's Soda."
"I know. But I wanted to tell you anyway. It means a lot to Soda, but it means a lot to me too."
"So I guess I'm supposed to say you're welcome then. And you both are, especially him. But, like I said, being there for him is the only thing I would do. Cause it's Soda."
"Yeah. I don't work nights that often. Doubt I even could now. But me and Steve both did that Friday."
Ms. Grayson listened to Soda, adjusting the glasses on her face, as she spoke to him. "Is that injury on your arm from when you got shot that night?"
Soda's eyes wandered down to the nearly-healed wound, as he nodded. "Yeah. I couldn't even look at it when I was in the hospital and not when I first got home either. The nurse I had and then my brother were real good about it though when they would change out the bandage for me."
"Why couldn't you look at it?"
"Because it was this reminder of what happened to me. It always will be, but at least it doesn't look bad anymore. I couldn't even think about looking at the injury without remembering how I bled like crazy that night and how much it hurt. I think I was still just trying to wrap my head around getting shot and trying to handle that it really happened to me. It was hard to believe at first."
"There's definitely reason for an emotional shock within circumstances of violence, but on a logical level, it's not hard to believe at all."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Well, you were in a gas station late at night. And not even just any gas station, but one on that side of town."
"Oh."
"It's not at all shocking that a robbery took place since, of course, anyone would know there would be cash on the premises."
"Um yeah, the robber sure did know that."
"So perhaps you should give some thought to the way you're spending your time. It could aid in both your physical and mental recovery if you accept some logical responsibility for what occurred."
"I hope he's doing all right in there. I know it's hard to talk-"
Steve's words were interrupted, as the waiting room door opened, and a blur he knew to be Soda flew past him and Darry.
Darry saw his middle brother hurry out the office door and got to his feet, turning to see Ms. Grayson standing near him. "Is he okay? What happened in there?"
Ms. Grayson stared at the two men in front of her, both of whom she'd met earlier. "I can't discuss the details of what my clients tell me privately, but I will say I was only telling him the truth about his situation, and if he can't handle that, then perhaps he's not ready to-"
Steve had stood up and was about to follow after his best friend, but turned back to the counselor. "What the hell did you say to him, lady?"
Darry stepped in front of Steve, his hands on his buddy's shoulders. "I'll deal with this, Steve. You go talk to Soda."
Steve glared at Ms. Grayson, his feet carrying him away, as he spoke. "You're supposed to help. Whatever you said in there better not have hurt him even more."
Tears blurred Soda's vision, as his mind replayed Ms. Grayson's words. Is it my fault for being there at the DX? Is she saying I should blame myself?
Steve found Soda in the parking lot, sitting on the curb between his Ford and Darry's truck. He sat down beside him, the stricken look on his best friend's face a momentary distraction from his anger. "What happened, buddy? She was saying some shit about telling you the truth, and just the way she said it pissed me off."
Soda felt Steve's hand grip his shoulder, the tears still swimming in his eyes. "I hope what she said ain't true. I don't want it to be."
"What did she say to you?"
"I don't want to talk about it yet, Stevie. I just want to go home."
"Like I said, I really can't discuss what my clients tell me privately. But since I know you're familiar with the situation, I can explain a little further."
Darry stared at Ms. Grayson, as she closed the waiting room door, putting them in the hallway that led to her personal office. "I'm not asking what Soda told you. Believe me, I already know he didn't get very far. All I want to know is what truth you told him that you're so damn certain about."
Ms. Grayson took her glasses off, wiping the lenses with the front of her blouse. "Mr. Curtis, I know you're aware of the circumstances that led to your brother's injury. I simply suggested he take some responsibility for what happened."
"Responsibility? Did you tell Soda it's his fault he got shot?"
"I never used the word "fault," but considering-"
"Stop! I'm not listening to anything else you have to say."
"Mr. Curtis, I'm only-"
"No! You had no right to talk to my brother like that. He came to you for help, not to get blamed for what happened to him. I could think of a few choice words for what you are, and 'counselor' is not one of them!"
Soda felt Darry's arms wrap around him and leaned against his big brother. "Sorry, Dar. You didn't take off work for this."
Darry kept Soda close to him. "Yeah. I did, little buddy. I have to go back for a little bit soon, but I took off to be here for you, and I am, ain't I?"
Steve rubbed Soda's shoulder, sharing a look with Darry. "That lady tell you anything?"
Darry nodded, squeezing Soda once more, before he gently pushed him back. "You are not to blame, Sodapop. Do you hear me? I don't know why she'd say that to you, but it's not your fault you got shot. There's nothing you need to take responsibility for."
Steve tightened his grip on Soda's shoulder, as he absorbed what Darry was saying. "What? That bitch! How could she say that to him?"
Soda wiped his eyes, refusing to look at either Steve or Darry. "Can we please just go? I really don't want to be here anymore."
The brown powder mixed with water, blending to make hot chocolate.
Steve stirred the liquid with a spoon until the powder had completely dissolved, before picking up the mug and taking it to Soda, who had retreated to his bedroom. "Hey, man, you haven't said a word since we left that parking lot."
Soda took the mug of hot chocolate from Steve, sipping the drink. "Thanks. And I know." He leaned his head on the wall beside the window that was open. "That really hurt me, and I just-"
Steve sighed, as he settled beside Soda, hearing his voice crack within the unfinished thought. "I know, man. I'm sorry. You didn't need that."
"You don't need to head home?"
"Nah. Besides, I ain't about to leave you alone after that."
"You probably shouldn't either."
"You want to tell me the rest of it? Sounded like Darry just got the gist."
"It'll really piss you off, Stevie. I wish I could just be mad."
"Well, I'm pissed off still anyway. Might as well know the details."
Soda lifted the mug to his mouth, drinking of few swallows of the hot chocolate. "I didn't really even tell her a lot about me or anything. Just about my brothers and how our parents died, and that I dropped out of school. I don't think she liked hearing that."
"She's not supposed to be there to judge, Sodapop. I swear to you it's not supposed to be like that."
"I know. That's why I couldn't believe what I was hearing a little after. I told her I got shot at the DX." Soda set the mug of hot chocolate on the window sill, licking his lips, before he continued. "She saw my arm, you know, and asked about it. I told her how it was hard to look at it at first. Then, next thing I knew, she was saying it wasn't hard to believe I got shot."
"Not hard to believe? What does that mean?"
"She said I was in a gas station late at night on that side of town."
"Damn. That's why she's saying it's your fault? What the hell is wrong with her?"
"She didn't even stop there either. She told me it wasn't shocking the station got robbed cause anybody would know there's money there. She didn't have to remind me of that. Not when I can't stop remembering the robber telling me to give him the money."
"She's wrong, buddy."
"But it's not my fault for working there, is it?"
"No, Sodapop. It's not. Don't believe the shit she said for a second, man."
"She told me I should think about how I spend my time or something like that and accept some responsibility."
"So without actually saying the words, she blamed you and told you it's your fault you're going through all of this."
"Yeah. Pretty much." Soda sucked in a breath, feeling tears begin to escape down his cheeks. "Sorry. I do this so much lately. I was trying. I was trying to do something to get better."
"I know that, buddy. I'm so sorry you gave this a try, and that's what you got. That bitch has no business being a counselor."
Soda picked up the mug of hot chocolate and drank more of it, before setting it back on the window sill, as he tried to stop crying. "I feel too bad to even get pissed off. It's like I ain't got the energy."
Steve watched Soda struggle with the tears, then pulled him close, channeling his own anger into hugging his best friend. "Well, you know I'm angry enough for you, so it's all right if you just need to be sad for a while."
Samuel touched the wooden chest in front of him, all the reminders of Matthew inside of it. "I'm giving this to you, God. Again. I'm giving it all to you."
He opened the Bible that was in his lap, turning to a familiar Psalm, reading the words of praise: "Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt his name together. I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears."
"Steve, I'm scared. I mean it. I'm really scared."
Steve heard the alarm in Soda's voice, as he still held him, but then started to pull away. "I know, man, but-"
Soda interrupted the reassurance by holding on tighter, not breaking the embrace.
Steve didn't try to pull away again, only rubbing Soda's back. "It's okay. You've been through too damn much lately, and I know you're scared."
Soda felt the coldness settle into him, the nature of it mixing with the lie of inward shame that had dug itself deeper. "No. I mean, I'm afraid I could hurt myself. I feel like that again."
"I can see how today would do that to you." Steve eased his grip on Soda, slowly pulling away, but keeping one arm around him. "It'll pass, buddy. I swear it will."
Soda drew in a breath and held it, his eyes closed, as he could hear his own heart beating.
Steve watched Soda, several seconds going by, before he lightly shook him. "Hey, buddy. Breathe."
Soda opened his eyes, as he let out the breath. What if I don't? he thought. Because I keep thinking about what it would be like to stop.
"Was that on purpose?"
"Huh? What?"
"The way you stopped breathing just now. Did you mean to do that?"
Soda looked away from Steve, his gaze moving to the open window. "No! I didn't- I mean, I wouldn't do that."
"Okay. I only asked cause it looked like it."
"I'm just anxious and not breathing right. I've seen you like that lots of time. It ain't a big deal."
"All right. It kind of can be though."
Soda leaned his head against the wall, just as he had earlier. Please don't ask me any more questions, Steve, he thought. Please just drop it.
"You're not going to want to hear this, but you know sitting here like you are now won't help, buddy."
"Yeah. But I don't feel like doing anything."
"I know. I can see that, and I get it. But any kind of distraction could be good. It doesn't have to take a whole lot of energy."
"Okay. Like what?"
"We could go for a walk. Then, head over to the park. Sound good?"
"Yeah. That actually does."
"All right then, man. Let's go." Steve started to get up, only to feel Soda grab his shirt, stopping him. "What is it?"
Soda swallowed, as he hesitated for a moment, before speaking. "First, there's something I want to tell you."
Samuel read one of the last stanzas of the Psalm: "The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."
