A/N: Because I now have a whole new batch of chapters I can't wait to post, and this one starts the flashbacks!

The waves of suffering continued to roll, crashing forward, though love and loyalty remained unconditional.


"Shit, what do the fuzz want? They just cut my ass loose a couple of days ago."

Soda saw the police car come to a stop in front of his house, as he kicked at the snow that covered the ground, his heart echoing Dallas' curiosity, even while his words did not. "Maybe they're looking to have a quick reunion."

Dallas tossed the burning ember of his cigarette butt into the snow, extinguishing the flame, as two uniformed officers approached them. "Miss me already, boys?"

One of the officers spoke to Soda, unbothered by Dallas' way of greeting. "You're Sodapop, one of Darrel Curtis' younger sons, right?"

Dallas smirked, as he elbowed Soda in the ribs. "Oh, got yourself in some shit, Sodapop? Man, I never thought I'd see it."

The second police officer eyed Dallas, the news he and his partner carried with them leading him to address Soda instead. "We need to speak to Darrel Curtis Jr. Is he here?"

Soda stood up as tall as he could, attempting to ignore the ball of ice that was building in his stomach, the feeling even colder than the winter's snow. "He's inside. Is there some sort of problem?"

The first officer spoke again, as he shared a look with his partner. "We just need to speak with him. It's urgent."


"Are you sad too?"

Samuel lie in bed next to Vivian, as he looked into her questioning gaze, her hazel eyes still sharp with the freshness of grief. "Of course I am, sweetheart."

Vivian nodded, able to see that her husband's face was the picture of sincerity. "Is it just because I'm sad?"

"That's one reason, but it's not the only one."

"I think it was going to be a little girl, Samuel. We were supposed to have a daughter."

Samuel could see the tears filling his wife's eyes again, as he cuddled close to her, pressing their bodies together beneath the covers. But we're not going to, he thought. We never even got to meet this child.


"Sodapop, I really need to talk to you. Please come in here."

Soda saw the police car drive away, as he went up the porch steps toward Darry, the tone of his voice one he hadn't heard before. He studied his big brother's face, the coat he wore doing nothing to stop a shiver from moving through him. "What is it, Dar? What'd the cops say?"

Dallas stood in the yard and watched the brothers, feigning disinterest, as he lit another cigarette.

Soda stepped inside the house and peeled his coat off, then tossed it on the couch. "Darry?"

Darry held onto his controlled exterior, as he sat down, pulling Soda along with him. "I need to tell you something."

"Dar, what's wrong? You're freaking me out. Are you in trouble or something?"

Darry gripped Soda's shoulder, losing the battle with the burn in his eyes. "It's about Mom and Dad."

"Huh? Why would the cops be talking about Mom and Dad?"

"There was an accident. They're gone, Sodapop."

"Gone? I just talked to Dad yesterday. They're coming home today and-"

"They died at the scene, little buddy."

Soda stared into Darry's eyes that shone with tears, the ball of ice in his own stomach still leading him into the mechanism of denial. "No. They can't be dead. No, Darry."

"Dead? Who the hell is dead? What'd the fuzz say to you?"

The sound of Dallas' voice made Darry look from his middle brother to his friend, seeing the blond's blue eyes capturing his own. "Our parents, Dal. They're gone."

Dallas backed away from the pair of brothers. "Oh, hell no! This ain't happening. I'm getting the fuck out of here."

Soda heard Dallas' footsteps hurry quickly out of the house, followed by the slam of the door. Then, he saw Darry's shoulders shake with the sobs he'd been fighting to keep inside. "It's true, Darry? They're not coming back?"

Darry grabbed Soda and held him close. "Yes, it's true, little buddy. It's true."

Soda gripped onto Darry, denial giving way to a numbing sadness, as tears seeped out of his eyes. "No, Darry. Please. Please tell me it ain't real."

"I wish I could, Sodapop. I wish I could."

Soda's heartbeat quickened, as he held tighter to Darry, his newly bereaved mind racing with fear-filled questions. But what are we going to do? Who will take care of us? "Darry, what's going to happen to me and Pony?"

"Nothing. Nothing is going to happen to you. I'm old enough. You're staying right here with me."


"You don't have to keep looking at me like that, Stevie. I'll do it, okay? I'll call."

Steve's gaze didn't waver, Soda's words not convincing him. "Tomorrow?"

Soda turned away, his own eyes shifting down to what could still be seen of the brief episode of self-injury. "Yeah. Or maybe I'll ask Darry. I'm not sure yet."

Steve touched Soda's arm, the minor injuries there and the memory of what he'd witnessed combining to transform into a much darker image. "Please don't do that anymore, man. I get it. But please don't."

"I already told you I won't."

"I know. It just- it really bothers me, buddy. Even though it's not bad, it's still you hurting yourself, and that's something I can't take."

"I wish you hadn't seen me."

"I don't. Cause you might've done more."

"It was weird, Stevie. Cause I knew what I was doing at first. But then, it was more like I wasn't even here, kind of like that day I pulled on my stitches. So I didn't have to feel anything. I stopped thinking at all. And I guess it kind of took me away."


"What's he talking about, Soda? Where are Mom and Dad?"

Soda reached for Pony's hand and held onto it. "They died, Pone. That's what Darry's trying to tell you."

Pony looked between his two older brothers, who sat on either side of him. "How? And how do you know?"

Darry's mind went back to his brief, but devastating, conversation with the two officers, as he took Pony's other hand. "The police came and talked to me, Pony. They were in a car wreck. An eighteen wheeler-" He choked on the words, swallowing down emotion to take the path of staying strong for his little brothers. "I'm sorry. So sorry to have to tell you."

Pony pulled both hands from his brothers' grips, as he got to his feet. "No! They're not dead! Both of you stop lying to me right now! They're going to walk through that door any minute and-"

Darry heard the pierce of a grief-stricken cry, as Pony's face crumbled. He watched his youngest brother bolt away from them, still frozen in place, even as he and Soda could hear the sound of sobs coming from Pony's bedroom.

Soda turned to Darry, recognizing his older brother's stoic image for what it was. He reached for him, the one to draw him close this time. "I love you, Darry."

Darry held his tears back, as he hugged Soda. "I love you too. I love you and Pony so much. Even if I haven't said it in so long."

"That's okay, Darry. Cause I know. Pony knows too." Soda pulled away from the embrace, then looked down the hall toward Pony's bedroom, seeing the closed door. I can't believe this is happening, he thought. It doesn't even feel real. He moved his gaze back to Darry, seeing the unshed tears of grief his big brother refused to let fall. It shouldn't be real.


"Hey, Dad. You just get home too?"

Nicholas heard Steve's voice, as he sat down, undoing the buttons on his work shirt. "Yeah, I did, Son. I was at Audrey's."

Steve set his backpack down beside the couch, before sitting down with his dad. "I was at Soda's."

"I figured you must be."

"Yeah. I had to talk to him about something. I just hope he listens to me."

"I went over and saw Samuel today. Vivian's at home now. It sounds like she's doing okay, as far as recovery and all."

"How is he?"

"I think he seemed better, but I-"

"Dad, why does your breath smell like alcohol?"

"Huh? Oh. I, um, I had a glass of wine with Audrey."

"Oh."

"I promise that was all, Son. Just some wine. Nothing else, and I barely even finished the glass."

"It's okay, Dad. That smell- I just didn't expect it. You haven't drank at all in over six months."

"I know. If it bothers you, I won't do even that anymore."

"Was it cause of something or...?"

"No. Audrey was just having a glass and offered some to me. That's all. I did start to say no at first. Maybe I should've stuck with that."

"I'm not upset with you, Dad. I'm really not. It does bother me. But that's mostly cause it seems like it's bothering you right now."

"Yeah. I guess it is. Because I shouldn't take any risks at all, not when I drank like I did before. I can't do that to you."

"Or to yourself. Does Audrey know about your drinking?"

"Yeah. I told her about it, but I didn't say much. She felt bad for even asking if I wanted a glass of wine, once I reminded her of that."

Steve studied Nicholas' expression, recognizing the familiar guilt and regret that was etched into his face. "Dad, I'd never tell you that you can't, you know, have glass of wine with your girl once in a while, but if it makes you feel this bad, maybe you shouldn't. Feeling guilty is one thing that makes you want to drink for real, and I never want to see you hurt yourself like that."

"I didn't even realize it would make me feel bad. But it does. Even more so when I knew you could smell any alcohol on my breath. I don't ever want Audrey to see that part of me either. You're right, Son. I shouldn't risk getting carried away. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, you didn't hurt me. I'm fine, Dad. And it's your decision to make, but please just be careful."


Soda wandered into his own bedroom, still hearing the sobs from behind Pony's closed door. He stared at the backpack in the middle of the floor, the one he hadn't touched all weekend. He sat down on the unmade bed, then picked up the bag, unzipping it to reveal the notebooks that had his name printed across their spiral bound covers.

Soda opened one of them, seeing a mess of numbers and symbols scrawled on the papers inside. His vision blurry with tears, he turned some pages and found an exam that had been shoved in the center of the notebook. He looked at the red markings that covered it, Mrs. Patterson's attempts at correction and guidance not making the math make sense to him. His eyes moved to the end of the failed exam, reading the note that had instructed him to study for a few days, then retake it after school at the end of the week.

Soda felt a tear slide down his face, before it dripped onto the test paper. I tried, he thought. I really did. He hurled the notebook at the wall, the action only making him cry even more. But it doesn't even matter. I was taking a damn math test when my parents left home. I'll never see them again, and I never got to say goodbye.


Soda stared at the card Steve had given him, his eyes reading the name of the doctor again and again. He can't make me, he thought. No one can make me see her. I don't have to keep my promise.

"Hey, Soda?"

At the sound of Pony's voice, Soda dropped the card into the drawer of his nightstand, then closed it. "Yeah, Pone?"

Pony moved to sit close to Soda, looking into the brown eyes of a brother he couldn't help but love with all his heart. "There are some things I want to tell you."

"Okay."

"I know that last night, I seemed like I was mad at you, but I never was. I couldn't be. I love you too much for that."

"I did feel like you were mad at me then, but I know I just scared you. I keep doing that to everyone lately."

"It's awful hard to see you sad, Sodapop. But it's not your fault. I told you Steve got on my case, and that was because what I said last night, well, it sounded like I was guilting you. I could tell that really pissed him off. But it wasn't what I was trying to do."

"What made you go to Steve anyway?"

"It's not the first time I have. We've kind of been talking. And I never thought I'd say this, but I think we're friends now."

"He always would've had your back, Pony. Even when you didn't get along so great."

"I know. But now, I can tell him stuff. I never did that before. I ran to his house last night cause I knew I could. Even though I scared him, I knew he'd listen to me."

"How'd you scare him?"

"By showing up yelling and crying. I looked like hell, and I told him you weren't okay."

"Oh."

"I had, um, already talked to Steve a couple of weeks ago and told him I was real worried about you. I asked him why he tried to kill himself, instead of going to you or his dad."

"And he talked to you about that kind of stuff?"

"Yeah. He did. And he told me you're doing what you need to cause you're not keeping everything inside like he did for a real long time. He didn't want me to worry about you hurting yourself. But, last night, after hearing you were feeling like that, I yelled at him for telling me you'd be all right."

"How'd he take that?"

"I don't think he cared about me yelling at him cause he was too worried about what was going on with you. We talked about it earlier today though, and he told me that you feeling like this still doesn't mean you will hurt yourself."

"No. It really doesn't."

Pony put his arm around his brother's waist and laid his head on his shoulder. "Soda, what can I do? Please tell me. I need you to be okay."

Soda put both arms around Pony, forming a tight embrace. "Just keep doing what you already are, Pone." I don't know what else you can do, he thought. "It really helps. So please don't worry." But I'm scared, little brother. I need me to be okay too.


"What's going to happen to us, Soda?"

Soda stared at Pony, seeing the tears that still streaked his little brother's face. "We'll be okay, Pony. I promise."

Pony leaned into Soda, laying his head on his chest, as he clung to him.

Soda saw his bedroom door open, the eyes of his best friend peeking inside. He shared a look with him, the expression on Steve's face telling him he'd already heard.

Steve moved toward the pair of brothers, silent as he settled himself by Soda's side and put a hand on his shoulder.

Soda hugged Pony closer, more tears filling his eyes when he felt Steve squeeze his shoulder. "Don't worry, little brother. Me and Darry are going to take care of you."

Steve spoke then, hearing the emotion creeping its way into his own voice, as he saw both the tears in his best friend's eyes and those that fell down Pony's cheeks, while he stayed in his brother's arms. "Hey, Soda. I just wanted you to know I'm here, buddy. And I ain't leavin', but I'll be outside."

Soda reached a hand out to Steve and gripped his arm for a moment. "Okay, Stevie." I know you're not leaving, he thought, as their eyes met once again. Cause you know I'm going to need you.

Steve stood up and let his hand rest on Pony's back. "It's going to be okay, Kid. I know you don't believe me right now, but it will."

Soda watched Steve leave the room, before he gently pushed Pony off his chest, then pressed their foreheads together. "Darry says he's going to keep us here with him, Pone. Mom and Dad are gone, but we've got each other. We're brothers, and we're sticking together."


"At least have some toast, little buddy. Your stomach needs something to get you through the morning."

Soda looked at the plate Darry had set down in front of him, seeing the buttered toast and scrambled eggs. "Yeah. I know." He took a bite of the toast, the taste stirring his appetite, as he chewed and swallowed. "I'm even a little hungry."

Darry pressed the back of his hand to Soda's forehead and cheeks, just as he had the night before.

"I don't have a fever, Dar." Believe me, Soda thought. That'd be a whole lot simpler.

Feeling the coolness of his brother's skin, Darry let his hand drop away. "I can't help but check. I haven't seen you like this before."

Soda kept eating the slice of toast, his mouth full when he spoke again. "Yeah. But I think my stomach's settling down a lot. Can you hand me that jelly right there?"

Darry slid the jar over to Soda, as he sat down to eat his own breakfast.

Pony joined his brothers at the table, seeing Soda covering his eggs in grape jelly. "Your stomach must be feeling better."

Soda pushed his fork into the eggs, ignoring the bit of nausea that rolled through his stomach when the sweet taste of jelly touched his tongue. "It's getting there, Pone." It really is too, he thought. But I've got such a long way to go with no path that I can see.


"Hey, Stevie, do you know where Darry went?"

Steve looked at Soda, easily noticing how red his eyes were and the shake in his body, as he joined him on the back porch steps. "He went to take care of some stuff, man."

Soda felt himself shiver, though he was certain it wasn't only from the chilly winter air that touched his skin. "I still don't know what to do. I've never done this before."

Steve reached for Soda's shoulder and gripped it tightly. "Buddy, what is going to happen to you and Pony? Tell me the truth."

"Darry is going to keep us here with him."

Steve's grip on Soda's shoulder loosened. "Can he do that?"

"He's nineteen. So I guess so. I can't see why not."

"Sodapop, I'm so damn sorry. I really am, buddy. I loved them too. Anything you guys need, just say the word."

"I miss them already, Stevie. They were supposed to come home today. They weren't supposed to die. I wanted to hold it together for Pony in there, but I can't- I can't hold it together anymore now."

"You don't gotta be tough for me, buddy. So don't try. You just lost your parents. I know I've still got my dad, but I lost my mom. So I know how bad it hurts."

"Steve, I was stuck at school retaking that damn math test when they left to go to Aunt Susan's. I probably failed it again anyway, and I didn't even get to see them one last time. It ain't fair."

"Come here, man." Steve drew Soda close, holding him as he shook with sobs. "It ain't fair at all, buddy. I know it's not."

"It does hurt so bad, Stevie. It hurts more than anything I've ever felt."

Steve drew in a heavy breath, letting it out, as a tear dripped down his face and landed on Soda's shoulder. "You've got me, okay? I know you're going to be trying to hold your brothers together, but you've got me."

"I keep thinking this is some bad dream." Soda gripped the back of the coat Steve wore, as he squeezed his eyes closed. "It has to be. But no matter how hard I try, I can't wake up."


Soda picked at the saran wrap that covered his sandwich, as he sat down on the couch in the break room. He heard a light knock on the wide-open door and looked up to see Steve. "Oh. Hey."

Steve stepped into the room, going over to the drink machine beside the couch, as he looked at Soda. "Hey, man. I take it that ain't bologna."

"Nah. Just ham."

Steve pushed two coins into the machine's slot, then picked up the pair of cans it dispensed, handing one of the drinks to Soda. "How are you feeling?"

Soda popped the drink open, as Steve did the same, then sat down beside him. "I don't know."

"Did you tell Darry about Dr. Morgan?"

Soda set his drink down, avoiding Steve's gaze, as he went back to picking at the saran wrap. "No. I didn't."

"So you're going to call yourself then?"

Soda only shook his head, not speaking a word.

"Soda, you promised me."

"So what? I still don't have to."

"Soda-"

"No! I don't want to do it, Steve! Stop trying to tell me I have to. I don't have to do anything."

Steve saw the shake in Soda's hands that were beginning to unwrap the sandwich. "You do need to do something, and you damn well know it."

Soda finished pulling the plastic off the sandwich, then took a bite of it. "I am doing something. I'm eating, ain't I? That's something. I feel like hell, but I'm eating anyway."

Steve set his own drink down, then stood up and closed the door. "Why are you acting like you're pissed at me?"

"I ain't acting like anything."

"The hell you're not." Steve sat back down on the couch, scooting closer to Soda this time. "I'm not going to sit back and watch you suffer when there's help you can get. Quit being a pain in the ass and just be honest with me."

"I should've just done it. I never should've told you anything."

"You should've just done what?"

"If you don't want to watch me suffer, then just leave me the hell alone. Let whatever's going to happen happen."

"I'm not going to leave you alone, Sodapop. You know I won't."

"You should. Cause, like I said, I ain't me anymore."

"But you are still you, buddy. No matter how you feel, that doesn't change. You're always going to be Sodapop."

Soda looked down at the sandwich in his lap, the crumbled up saran wrap partially surrounding it. "I'm sorry, Stevie."

"Soda, did you promise you'd call her just to get me off your back about it."

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Cause I don't want to do it."

"Why are you fighting so hard about this?"

"I told you I'm scared."

"Yeah. You did. I just think there's more to it than what you said. You can tell me anything, man. What else is bugging you about this?"

"I just can't imagine feeling better. What if I go, and there's nothing she can do for me?"

"Oh, buddy. That won't happen. Please trust me."

"What if there's something so wrong inside that even a doctor won't know how to make it better? Or even understand it? Cause I'm in my own head, and I sure as hell don't get it."

"I think you've got a bunch of different things going on, man. Probably like what Samuel said. You really have been through a lot."

"I know she'd want me to go back to all of it too. Not even just the shooting. Back to everything. And I don't want to. It'll hurt too damn much."

"But that's gotta be what you need. It'll be okay, buddy. I swear it will. She'll know how to help. She'll understand. And yeah, it'll hurt to talk about stuff, but you'll get through it."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just am, man. I've never been so sure of anything in my life."

"I wish I could be like that."

Steve reached for Soda's wrist and held it in a gentle grip, their gazes locking. "I'll always be glad you told me. Always. You got that?"

"Yeah."

"And it doesn't matter if you are a pain in the ass to me or if you do get pissed, I won't walk away. Even if you don't see it yet, I know what's making you try to lash out. I get those feelings, buddy. I know it's more than being scared too. So go ahead and fight if you need to cause you still won't ever be alone."


A scream cut through the night, its edge piercing the darkness that blanketed the Curtis house.

Soda sat straight up in bed, heart pounding, as his feet carried him through his bedroom door and into the hallway, where he came face to face with a wide-awake Darry. "What the hell was that?"

Before Darry could answer, another scream sounded, both brothers realizing it came from behind Pony's closed door.

Soda rushed into his little brother's room, seeing Pony sitting up in bed, tangled in the covers, his body tense, as he let out quiet whimpers.

Darry followed behind Soda, turning on Pony's bedside lamp, the light letting him see his youngest brother's closed eyes and the sweat decorating his face.

Soda drew close to Pony and gently shook his shoulder. "Hey, Pony. You're just dreaming, baby brother. Please wake up."

Pony curled in on himself then, drawing his knees into his chest, the whimpers turning into cries.

Darry sat down at the foot of the bed, glancing at Soda, as he spoke. "Yeah, Pony. Wake up. You're okay. Me and Soda are right here."

Soda guided Pony back down onto the bed and lie right beside him, one arm holding him close from behind. "Shh. Just sleep, Pony. I'm here, and I won't leave you."

Darry saw Pony begin to calm down and switched the lamp back off, letting darkness return to bathe the room. He straightened out the sheet and blanket on the bed, covering both of his brothers. "Looks like you helped him a lot there, little buddy."

Soda rested his chin atop Pony's head, hearing his little brother's steady breathing. "Yeah. I guess I did."


"You look like you're keeping food down a lot better than you were yesterday."

Soda finished off his sandwich and popped another potato chip into his mouth, before replying to Steve. "Yeah. I am. I'm still a little nauseous, but nothing like before."

Steve drank down the rest of his Pepsi and tossed the can toward the trash, rolling his eyes when it missed.

Soda chuckled, as the can landed on the floor. "Your aim's a little off there, buddy."

"Yeah, I should've thrown it at your head, huh?"

"Hey, who knows? Maybe it'd straighten something out in there."

Steve smiled at Soda, as he got up and threw the can in the trash. Man, he thought. You have no idea how good it is to hear you laugh.


"Hey, Dar, what are you doing in here?"

Darry lifted his eyes up from the kitchen table to look at Soda. "I could ask you the same thing, little buddy."

Soda took a seat in the chair across from Darry, rubbing his tired eyes, as he rested his elbows on the table. "I know I told Pony I wouldn't leave him, but I couldn't sleep."

"I think he'll be all right. He looked like he was out."

"How are we going to be okay, Darry?"

"I'm not sure. That's one reason I'm awake. I've got a lot to figure out."

"Are you going to quit school?"

"Yeah. I have to. Cause I need at least one full-time job."

Soda's eyes wandered around the kitchen, before his gaze landed on the front door, picturing it opening. He heard the sounds of his parents' voices, as he stared, captivated by the near-vision that comforted him with the presence of his mom and dad.

"Soda?"

Soda watched the vision evaporate, taking the voices with it, as grief snapped him back into the reality of loss. "How can they be gone, Darry? I don't think I even believe it yet."

"You're in shock, little buddy. I am too."

"When will I stop being in shock?"

"I don't know. Probably soon. It's just too fresh right now."

"Are you sure me and Pony ain't going to get taken away? I don't want to lose you too."

"Don't worry. I'll do anything I have to do to keep you guys." Darry got to his feet and went over to Soda, the middle brother's teary eyes looking up at him, as he ruffled his messy hair and squeezed his shoulder. "You're not going to lose me."


"Can you please shut up, TwoBit? I'm getting a headache."

TwoBit cocked an eyebrow at Steve. "Well, I guess so, since you said 'please.'"

Steve pressed his fingers to his head, massaging his temples. "Good. I ain't saying I have it cause of you, by the way."

"Hell, it's all right if you do say that. I give my own self a headache sometimes."

Steve grinned, despite the pain beginning to pulsate in his head. "That's not shockin' at all, man."

"You're using your brain too damn much. That's what's wrong."

"I'm thinking too much, huh?"

"Yeah. Sure are. I've seen the grades you've got now. You gotta give your brain a rest there, Steve-O."

I really am thinking too much, Steve thought. "Oh yeah? Is that what you do?" That's true.

"Damn right. I love to let my mind rest."

I wish I could do that, Steve thought. But this is a different kind of pain. It's one from the past.