Author's Note because of what I think I see on reader traffic :) : If you read this chapter without reading 22, it really loses its context!
A blanket covered him, the soft material enclosing him in safety and warmth, as he slept, unconsciousness a blessing.
Quiet, prayerful vigil was kept for a time, eyes trained on him in the midst of pleas for healing and life, souls knit with one another in a bond more powerful than even a pained wish for death.
The sound of a ringing phone made its way into Nicholas' ears and he sat up, barely awake, as he went to answer it. "Hello."
Steve's voice came over the line. "Hey, Dad, can you do something for me?"
Nicholas yawned into the receiver, as he looked at the clock, reminding himself it was still rather early. "Sure, Son. Where are you?"
"I'm at Soda's. I'm staying here tonight, and I need clothes and stuff. I was going to come and get it myself, but I don't want to leave at all."
"Why? Is something wrong?"
"Hell, yeah, and I don't know what to do, except be here."
Nicholas heard the tremble in Steve's voice at the same time he saw Audrey come out of his bedroom. "What is it? Is Sodapop okay?"
"No. He's not okay at all, Dad. He's even less okay than I knew."
"All right, Son. I'll bring you your stuff in a few minutes."
"Thanks, Dad. I just can't leave him. He wouldn't be alone, but I can't. I'll tell you more when you get here."
"Hey, Superman, I gotta talk to you."
Darry set down the beer he'd been drinking to see Steve coming out the back door. "Oh. Hey, Steve. I saw your car was here, but thought maybe you and Soda had walked somewhere."
Steve joined Darry on the porch steps. "Um, no, we've been here a while. We were talking in Soda's room. He's asleep now."
"Asleep? Already?"
"I think he's worn out from everything. He needs it."
Darry took a better look at Steve when he became quiet, able to see streaks of tears still on his face. "Steve, what do you need to talk to me about? Did Soda say more about what happened with the counselor today?"
"Yeah. He did. He told me all of it, and I know that bitch didn't help. But that's not- that's not what I need to tell you about, Darry. Soda was telling me he's not worth anything and that he shouldn't be here. He told me I won't have to worry about him much longer."
"What?"
Steve put his hand on Darry's shoulder in an effort to steady both of them, knowing his words were as hard to hear as they were to say. "Yeah, and he said that's cause he won't be alive. He kept saying he wants to die. He pretty much told me goodbye, Darry."
Darry shook inside and out, fear and grief making him want to come apart. "What did that woman say to him? Steve, did he tell you what he's going to do?"
"I asked him if there was something he planned to do to hurt himself, and he said no. Just that he wants to. He sounded so sure, and I'm scared to death, Superman. He said so much stuff to me about dying, not breathing anymore, about Heaven."
Darry absorbed the reality of what Steve was telling him, tears falling out of his eyes. "You sure he's sleeping in there?"
"Yeah. I wouldn't have left him alone. Darry, that lady told him it's his fault he got shot cause he was in a gas station late at night on our side of town. She said he should think about how he spends his time or some shit like that. How could she blame him? How could anyone do that? I know she didn't put this in his head, but she damn sure made it worse. And I feel bad cause I kept telling him he should see a counselor."
"I know, Steve. I did too. She wouldn't tell me exactly what she said to him, just something about him taking responsibility for what happened. Now, I don't even know what to do for him at all."
"He fell asleep, and I just kept sitting there watching him. Hearing him talk like that, I felt like I had to be dreaming or something."
"He's said some things lately that aren't as bad as what you're telling me now, but close enough that the signs were there."
"I hate this. I keep feeling like I'm going behind Soda's back talking to you, but I have to."
"But you're not going behind his back, Steve. You can't keep this kind of stuff between the two of you. He knows that too, and he trusts you. He knows you won't do anything besides what's best to help him."
"He said he's not planning anything to hurt himself, but he sounds like it. Or maybe he's thinking of what to do. I don't know."
"I can't even imagine what he would do. He didn't say anything like that?"
"The only thing he told me is he held himself underwater in the bath tub, like to try to drown. But he had to come up and breathe."
"I think it'd be impossible not to come up for air in that little bit of water. It's automatic. But it makes me worry he'd look for a way to make sure he can't."
"What do we do, Darry? I'm hoping he'll get some sleep and feel a little better, but thinking like this, it's not just going to go away. He reminded me so much of how I've been, only I never said some things outloud. But, I don't know, I think this might be even worse."
Darry stood in Soda's doorway, his gaze lingering on his middle brother, moments going by, as he stared at him, watching him sleep.
"Hey, Dar, is Soda in there? I haven't seen him since this morning?"
Darry turned at the sound of Pony's voice, then eased Soda's bedroom door nearly closed. "Yeah, Pone. He's sleeping."
Pony looked at Darry, then at the door. "Sleeping? What's wrong with him?"
Darry moved away from Soda's door, heading back to the living room. "He's just tired. Don't worry."
Steve came in from the back porch. "Hey, Kid."
Pony saw Steve's eyes drift to the hallway, his gaze one that seemed to hover, almost making his feet begin to move. "If he's just sleeping, why do you guys keep doing that?"
Darry shared a look with Steve, before replying. "Uh, hey, kiddo, how was school? Need help with anything?"
Pony rolled his eyes, recognizing the attempt at distraction. "Really, Dar? Give me more credit than that. I already know Soda's having a rough time. Both of you look awful rough too. Was the counseling appointment not good for him or something?"
Steve jumped in to answer this time. "Nah, Kid, it wasn't good. Lady was a bitch, and it took a lot out of him. So he's getting some rest."
Darry decided to add more, grateful for how the moment had veered away from the situation currently at hand. "Yeah, Pone. That counselor wasn't one I'll take Soda back to. She said some things no one ever should, instead of trying to help him."
Pony saw a car pull up in front of the house. "Hey, Steve, isn't that your dad's car out there?"
Steve followed Pony's gaze, seeing headlights shining in the dark. "Yeah. I'll be right back." He headed outside, going toward his dad's car that was parked beside the driveway.
Nicholas had only just stepped out of his car, a bag in his hand, when his son crashed into him.
Steve hugged Nicholas tightly, allowing himself to cry as hard as he'd been wanting to since before Soda fell asleep. "Dad, I didn't- I didn't know he was this bad."
Nicholas held Steve in his arms, focused on soothing him, even as he wondered what else had transpired. "Shh. It'll be okay, Son."
"But it's not okay. Soda was saying he wants to die. He told me he'll see me in Heaven, and I don't know- I don't know if-"
Nicholas tightened his arms around Steve, as the sobs interrupted his words. "God, I'm sorry, Son. So sorry."
"And all I could do was listen and tell him I love him, that I need him. We all need him, Dad."
"Then, you did exactly what you should do, Steve. Where is Sodapop right now?"
"Asleep. We talked a lot, and it's been a long day."
"Darry know what's going on?"
"Yeah. I told him. I had to after that. Dad?"
"Yeah, Son?"
"Were you with Audrey?"
"I was. How'd you know?"
"You smell like your cologne." Steve pulled away from the embrace, taking the bag Nicholas had brought him. "I didn't know before today how lucky I am to have Laura. The counselor Soda saw blamed him for getting shot."
"She what?"
"Yeah. I was so pissed about that. I probably still would be if I could think about anything else, besides what he was saying to me. It killed me inside to hear Soda talk like that, but like I told him, those feelings are the last thing he needs to keep to himself."
"They are. You're right, Son."
"I didn't know he felt so damn bad about himself either, Dad. But he does. It was just as hard to hear that too."
"I know all of it had to be very difficult for you to hear. It hurts me to hear about it now. Are you going to be okay tonight?"
Steve took a deep breath and wiped the tears from his face. "Yeah. I think so. I just feel so helpless. A lot more than I did before. But maybe if I'm here, I can help keep him safe."
"You call me if you need anything, okay, Son? No matter how late it is. I love you."
"I love you too, Dad. And I will. I promise."
"Hey, little buddy, you want something to eat?"
Soda heard Darry's voice over the fog that clouded his mind, his body still heavy with the anguish clawing its way through his soul. "Um, no, Dar, not really."
Darry saw Soda begin to sway on his feet and moved to his side, guiding him into a chair. "You looked like you were sleeping hard."
"Yeah. I was." Soda rubbed his head, still feeling drowsy, as his thoughts were rising from the brief respite. "I'm barely awake right now." And I don't want to be either, he thought.
Darry scooted another chair closer to Soda and sat down beside him. "How are you feeling?"
Soda looked out the window, seeing Steve outside on the porch swing. His gaze moved back to meet Darry's eyes, before dropping to the floor. "Not real good, Dar."
"What does that mean, little buddy?"
Soda looked up at Darry, hearing the softness in his voice and seeing tears shining in his eyes. "You know, don't you?"
Darry pulled Soda into his chest, his hold one born of fear and a sadness that ran deep into his veins. "Yes. I know how you were feeling before you went to sleep."
Soda hugged his big brother, the want to reassure him warring with the truth. "I'm sorry, Darry. Please still be here for me. I'm sorry."
"Of course I'm here for you, Pepsi Cola. That's why I'm asking how you're doing. I can only help if I know."
"It hurts. It hurts so bad, Dar."
"What hurts?"
"Everything inside me." Soda heard Darry's heart beat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, as he rested against him. "It hurts to breathe."
"Will I see you tomorrow night?"
Nicholas tried to focus on Audrey, not comprehending her question. "I'm sorry. What?"
Audrey brushed Nicholas' cheek with her fingers. "I asked if I'll see you tomorrow night. And it's okay. I know you're distracted right now."
"Oh. I don't know yet. Maybe. You could've gone home already. It's getting late. You didn't have to wait for me to take Steve his stuff."
"I wanted to wait for you. You sounded really concerned when you were on the phone earlier. Is Sodapop okay?"
"Steve's worried about him, and I am too."
"What's going on?"
"I can't really say much about it, but Sodapop's going through a lot since the shooting. Not just physically, but emotionally too."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Is that why Steve's staying over there?"
"Yes. Trust me. Nothing could pull him away from Soda's side tonight."
"Hey, buddy, why are you sitting here in the dark?"
Soda hung his head, a sheet wrapped around him, as Steve stepped into his bedroom and switched on the lamp. "Just wanted to. I was talking to Darry, but then I just decided to come back in here."
"Okay." Steve sat down beside Soda, the light that was now illuminating the room making him able to see the redness of his best friend's eyes and cheeks, as well as the moisture left behind by recent tears. "Did it help to sleep?"
Soda shook his head, as he wrapped the sheet tighter around himself. "No. I don't- I don't feel better."
Steve put his hand on Soda's back, quiet, as he simply sat with him.
"I thought you might've gone home."
"Hell, no, I didn't go home. Why would I do that, Sodapop? You told me you wanted me to stay over tonight anyway, but how could I possibly leave after hearing you talk the way you were?"
"I thought you'd leave because of that, Stevie."
"Again, that's a hell, no. Of course not. Listen to me, man. I called my dad to bring me my stuff cause I didn't want to leave you at all. Not even for a few minutes. How could I go home to spend the whole fuckin' night worrying you'd be dead tomorrow?"
"I- I don't know. I just..."
"You just what, Sodapop? You practically told me goodbye earlier! I'm more scared now than when I was thinking about trying to kill myself again. You know why? Cause it's you!"
Soda felt himself tremble, nearly shivering beneath the thin material of the sheet, as he turned away from Steve. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any of that to you."
Steve heaved a deep breath, calming himself before he spoke again. "No, buddy. Don't be sorry. I don't mean it like that." He nudged Soda's shoulder. "Hey, turn back around and look at me, man. Cause you gotta hear this."
Soda did so, though his eyes avoided Steve's.
Steve could see the defeat so evident in his best friend's gaze, sighing, as he put an arm around him. "I'm serious that I don't want you to be sorry. Cause I understand. I understand better than anybody else can. I know this isn't easy. I know these feelings and what comes over you are so damn strong. Please give yourself that, buddy, cause I don't want you to beat yourself up more than you already are and end up feeling even worse."
"But I scared you."
"Yeah. But, Sodapop, I want you to be that honest. Cause if you're sitting here talking to me and putting all this into words, you're not acting on it. Laura's said stuff to me before about giving my thoughts and feelings a voice. It gives them somewhere to go, besides your own head, you know?"
"Yeah. I guess that makes sense."
"Damn right it does. I told you earlier you can say whatever you need to say. That means you can tell me anything you're thinking, buddy. I want you to, and it means a hell of a lot to me to be here for you. So please don't apologize anymore cause being this open might just be what saves your life."
"Why don't you head to bed, Ponyboy? It's after 11:00."
Pony shrugged, dismissing Darry's suggestion. "It's Friday night."
Darry joined Pony on the front porch, leaning on the railing next to him. "I guess you got a point, kiddo."
"Darry, why is Soda hardly coming out of his room? It's not just cause of whatever that counselor said. I know it's not."
"No, it's not, Pone. I'm not going to lie. It sure didn't help though."
"He's depressed, ain't he?"
"I actually think he might be. You do deserve more credit."
"It's really not hard to see, Dar. I don't know much about it. But even when he tries to keep me from seeing it, it's written all over his face."
"What'd Darry say when you talked to him tonight?"
Steve read only curiosity in Soda's expression, not seeing even a trace of anger. "He asked if you told me what you were planning to do."
Soda held a pillow in his lap, sitting as close to the window as he could, chilly night air drifting in to nip at his skin. "Oh. What'd you tell him?"
"That I asked you if you were planning to do something to hurt yourself, and you said no."
"He didn't even have to tell me you'd said anything. I could just see it cause of the way he looked at me."
"Soda, I hope you know I don't go telling Darry everything we talk about. Only what I need to."
"I know that, Stevie. I trust you."
"The only thing I ever want to do is keep you safe, buddy."
"I know that too."
Steve watched Soda's gaze turn to the window, staring out into the near midnight darkness. "So is it still true?"
"Is what still true?"
"That you're not planning anything."
"Yeah. It's still true. Cause I think of dying and of killing myself, but-"
Steve waited for Soda to finish the thought, taking his hand and squeezing gently.
"But it's not like I know what I'd do, even though I keep thinking about" Soda squeezed Steve's hand back, the touch helping him to keep going. "about what I could do."
"So you are thinking specific things?"
"Yeah."
"I thought you must be after everything you said earlier."
"The thing with the water... I hadn't thought of it before that. I just did then and so I- I did it."
"When was that, man?"
"Just the other day when I had that flashback at the DX. Not long after I got home."
"That's why you looked the way you did. I remember you coming and sitting in here by yourself and then hugging me kinda like I did to you once."
"I wanted to tell you about it so bad. I think I even almost did."
"I know exactly what you mean, buddy."
"I stared and stared at that water, Stevie. It was like I just wanted to sink into it. I wanted it to be the only thing I could feel at all. I thought maybe if I could stay under long enough, it'd all be over."
"What would be over?"
"Everything I don't want to feel. When I was under the water and really started to feel like I needed air, I told myself that was better than the pain I feel all the time. I told Darry it hurts to breathe. It hurts to be alive."
Steve's head swirled with the truths he'd learned firsthand and memories he'd yet to share with Soda. He put an arm around him, guiding his head to rest on his shoulder. "I know what you're talking about, buddy. Can I be honest too and tell you some stuff I haven't before?"
"Okay."
"It hurts to think you're about to die too. You know I was so scared when I overdosed, but Sodapop, it was worse than that. Right before I took the pills, I asked God to take me. I didn't get sick right away. It took a while. But once I did, and I really thought I was dying, I begged him not to. I was afraid he wouldn't hear me cause of what I'd done. I thought my dad was going to come in and find me dead on the couch."
Soda closed his eyes against the image, as he wrapped an arm around Steve. "You can tell me this, but you don't have to."
"I know. But I want to. Cause I get it, man. I know how you can fall into thinking trying to kill yourself is the way to get rid of the pain inside. I sat there in my car and took all those pills and then waited to die. I didn't feel anything at first, not from the overdose anyway. But I still felt everything else, and the memories of the abuse were as vivid as ever. I went in the house and waited some more, trying to rest and not breathe, like I thought that would make me go to sleep, like I wanted. But then, I got nauseous. That got worse and worse pretty fast, and I remember dialing my dad's work number, thinking of how much I desperately wanted to live."
"I've thought about doing it, Stevie."
"Doing what?"
"Overdosing. Taking some medicine I know will make me fall asleep. But enough that I won't wake up."
Steve shifted, bringing his other arm around Soda. "Oh, buddy. Please don't." Make these thoughts stop, God, he prayed. "Please."
"Or going so deep into some water that I can't get out in time to breathe."
Steve stayed quiet, only hugging Soda. God, this is so hard to hear, he prayed. But he needs to get it out. He needs to keep talking.
Soda held onto Steve as tight as he could, silent for several moments, before he went on. "These thoughts make me feel weird. But it's like they're kind of..." He trailed off, letting the thought hang. "I don't know if I should say this."
"You can say whatever's on your mind, Sodapop. Anything, remember? Get it out of your head."
"Okay. They're sort of comforting. It's like this relief to just let my mind- to let it go there. Like it feels good somehow. Is that wrong of me?"
"No. It's not wrong at all. I think I know what you mean. It's like losing yourself in the darkest place you can go to control whatever hurts so bad."
"Yeah. It is like that." Soda didn't let go of Steve, keeping his head on his shoulder. "I can still see it, Steve. Like I said before."
"You can still see what?"
"The robber's mask. It hasn't gone away."
"I know. I'm so sorry, buddy. I know that doesn't help." Steve squeezed Soda a little tighter, before pulling away. "Why don't you sleep now, man? You need it. It's been a long night."
Soda pulled the sheet and blanket over himself, before lying down on his side, his head on the pillow. "Steve?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for being here with me."
"Of course, man." Like I'd be anywhere else, Steve thought. He remained on the edge of the bed, rubbing Soda's shoulder, as he saw his eyes drift closed. He reached to turn off the lamp, then pressed a kiss to his best friend's temple, his voice a whisper. "It's going to be okay." It has to be, he thought. You have to be okay.
Steve tucked the blanket around Soda, unable to tear his gaze away, as he prayed. God, please carry him through this. "I'll be on the couch if you need me, buddy." Please don't take him.
"Hey, I didn't know you were still up, Superman."
Darry sat in the recliner, his feet up, though he was anything but relaxed, as Steve settled himself on the couch. "I couldn't sleep."
Steve lie down on the couch, his eyes growing bleary with the need to sleep, as his head pressed into the pillow. "He's going to get through it, Darry. He has to."
"I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do, Steve."
"Be his big brother. Like you always are."
"Soda tells me I saved him that night at the DX."
"Cause you did."
"I knew what to do. I knew to call for help. I knew to put pressure and slow down the bleeding. I knew to talk to him and try to keep him awake and alert."
Steve held his eyes open, listening to Darry talk through what he evidently needed to say outloud.
"I knew how to make it better, how to make sure he pulled through, even though he got shot. I listened to the doctor, filled the prescriptions, changed out the bandages."
Steve sat up on the couch, comprehending Darry's line of thought, though he didn't interrupt.
"When the doctor tells us the test results, I'll help Soda with whatever he says to do. I'll help him take care of himself and heal the pain and the other symptoms he has. But what else can I do, Steve? I can't fix what's inside his head and make that heal. I can't reach in and make the flashbacks and the anxiety and the way he's feeling about himself go away."
"I know, Darry. I know."
"And damn it." Darry pulled the lever on the recliner, making the footrest collapse. "I can't put a bandage over the pain inside him and make him not want to die."
"He's going to be all right, Superman. I-"
"Why do you always call me that? I ain't Superman at all."
"But you are. Soda told me about the night of the shooting. He said there were things he couldn't remember after it happened, but he did remember you sitting there and holding him."
"I won't ever forget that either. I didn't just stay close because he was bleeding. I did it because I knew he needed me, and I knew he was scared. I had to hold him."
"Cause you love him, Darry. And that's what you can do now when you don't know what else to do. That's how you can still be Superman."
