The pace of healing kept time with the rolling tides of comfort and truth, as hands kept reaching out for one another.


"TwoBit, could you please stop?"

TwoBit ignored Pony's request at first, pressing the back of his hand to his younger friend's forehead. "No. I can't. But you ain't warm, so you better spill."

Pony bit his lower lip, as he looked toward the nearest set of double doors that would lead him out of the school.

"Don't even think about it, Kiddo."

"Don't you need to get to class?"

"Damn, something must be bugging you, if you think I'm worried about going to class."

Pony took his chance and ran, bolting out the doors.

TwoBit ran after him without a second thought. "Ponyboy! Come on! Shit, you're fast!"

Pony ran until he came to a clearing that was far behind the school building, the heaviness in his chest making him give in to sobs.

TwoBit saw Pony up ahead of him, his legs going faster when he could see his friend was on the ground.

Pony buried his face in his lap, feeling TwoBit drop down beside him moments later. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

TwoBit listened to Pony cry, willing to admit fear was creeping up on him, as he tried to catch his breath. "It's just me, Kiddo. You're allowed to cry. But you gotta tell me what's wrong. After everything that's happened, it worries me to see you upset."

"You know Steve's not here today, right?"

"Yeah. But I didn't think a lot of it cause he has appointments and stuff sometimes."

"He's with Soda."

"At the DX?"

"No. Soda didn't go to work." Pony slowly lifted his head, tears still on his cheeks. "I ain't sure what all happened last night after I went to sleep, but something was going on with him."

"Okay."

"I mean, I knew Soda wasn't feeling so great, even before I went to bed, but the only thing Darry said was that he needs us right now. So I wasn't sure what that meant."

TwoBit nodded, attempting to coax Pony along. "All right."

"But this morning, when I woke up, Steve was in Soda's room with him. He said they were up real late talking about stuff."

"Sounds like them."

"Yeah, but this is different."

"How?"

"Cause Soda, he's been talking about dying."

"You mean because he could've died the night he got shot?"

"No. Not like that. He's been feeling like, well, a lot like Steve did."

"Soda's been feeling like trying to kill himself?"

"Yeah."

"Shit, Pony. I never would've thought that."

"I know. And last night's not the first time him and Steve have stayed up together cause of it."

"Well, I guess Steve would be good to talk to after the shit he's gone through."

"I'm scared, TwoBit. Cause I know last night must've been bad. Steve came over later than he ever does and he didn't bring clothes. He even stayed all night in Soda's room."

"Even if it was bad, it sounds like Soda got through it, Kiddo. You see him this morning?"

"He was still asleep. Darry told me we'd talk tonight. Nobody's been totally straight with me about any of this."

"They just want to protect you, Pony."

"I only even know all of what I do, which ain't much, cause I've overheard stuff, and it's not real hard to watch what goes on around me. Soda's not hard to read either, even when he tries to be."

"Naw. He sure as hell ain't. Wears his heart on his sleeve, just like the shirt on his back." TwoBit put his arm around Pony's shoulders and pulled him close. "It'll be all right, Kiddo. Maybe I don't know much, but it sounds like Darry and Steve-O are both going all out for Soda. So that must mean he's got what he needs."


"Hey, buddy. What happened? You disappear, like you think I won't know where to look or something."

Soda heard Steve's voice from his place on the bed, his only response a shrug of his shoulders.

Steve shot Soda a grin, as he sat down beside him. "Want to go see if we can make a deep conversation out of the Frisbee in the backyard?"

Soda's chin trembled, as his eyes rapidly blinked. "What's she going to do to me, Stevie?"

"Who? What are you talking about?"

"Dr. Morgan. What'll she do?"

Steve saw the tears shining in Soda's eyes, fear poignant in his best friend's expression. "What do you think she's going to do that's got you like this right now?"

"I don't want to be in the hospital. I know you want me to be honest with her, but I can't."

"You can, buddy. It'll be okay. She'll want to help."

Soda reached for Steve and grasped the back of his shirt, pressing his face into his shoulder. "But if I tell her what I told you and what I said to Darry, she'll do it. She'll make me go in the hospital and- and I'll be all by myself."

Steve wound his arms around Soda, squeezing him. "Buddy, I gotta tell you the truth, okay? Are you listening?"

"Yeah. I'm listening."

"You could be right because this is serious. It's more than thoughts. She could believe you're in danger of actually going through with hurting yourself. But it would be to protect you, just like I said the other day. And she won't ask just a couple of questions to decide what to do. She'll ask a lot. Believe me, I get it, man. I was afraid Laura or Dr. Reynolds would put me back in the hospital once, and I sure didn't want to do that."

"I don't want to be left alone. I don't want to be by myself."

Steve swallowed hard at the pleading tone of Soda's voice, his own tears forming. "No, buddy. You won't be. Doesn't matter where you are, you won't be alone."

"But I would be cause you guys couldn't stay."

"You're getting too far ahead of yourself, man." Steve pulled back to see Soda's face. "But if that happens, we'd be there all the time, as much as we can. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. I do."

"You've gotta slow down on this. All right, buddy? Cause you just don't know yet."

"I'm scared of being in there. Real scared."

"I know. It scared me too. But the only thing you've gotta do is talk to Dr. Morgan when you see her tomorrow, and when you do, remember she wants to help you with all of this. Laura never would've given me her number, if you couldn't trust her."

"I know. I'll be honest with her, Stevie. Whatever she asks, I'll tell her the truth."

"Good. Cause she can't help you, if she doesn't know what's happening, you dig?"

"Yeah. I dig."

"It'll count for a lot too if she knows you're not keeping shit inside, and you're coming to me or Darry with the suicidal thoughts. Dr. Reynolds always wants to know what I'm doing to cope, and it's a big deal to him that I can tell him what I do with those thoughts and feelings, if I have them. I'm sure Dr. Morgan will be glad to hear that you find a way to ask for help."

"I'm going to try to keep myself together the rest of the day. Damn, I've sure cried all over you a lot. And before you say it, you never cried this much."

"What if I had? You still would've kept doing the same thing for me too."

"Yeah. That's true."

"Of course it's true. Don't you know by now I'm always right?"

"Sure, Stevie. You're a genius."

"Nah, that's your little brother. I'm sure as hell no genius, but I am the wisest guy you'll ever know."

"Yeah, a wise guy, who's also a smartass when he wants to be."

"I'm a man of many talents. Now, come on, let's get outside and toss around that Frisbee."


"Hey, ain't that Johnny's jacket?"

Soda followed Steve's gaze, seeing the denim jacket on the ground of the vacant lot, as they were passing by it. "Yeah. Looks like it."

Steve picked up the jacket, seeing the stains on it. "This looks like blood."

Pony, who stood at Soda's side, looked around, noticing reddish-colored stains also on the grass near them. "What do ya'll think-?"

Soda interrupted his little brother, as he heard a low moan. "Hey, ya'll hear that?"

Steve held onto the jacket, as he nodded, his eyes landing on the source of the sound. "Damn. I think that's Johnny."

Soda took off at a run, Pony and Steve both on his heels. He stopped beside the still form on the grass and dropped to his knees. "Hey, Johnny Kid, can you hear me?"

Pony watched, as Soda gently turned Johnny over, frozen in place, while he took in the bruises and cuts that covered his friend's face.

Steve stepped closer, as he saw Johnny open his eyes, picking up on the fear in them. "Hey, Johnnycakes, nobody's going to hurt you."

Soda carefully lifted Johnny off the ground and cradled him in his arms, just as the younger teen began to sob. "Shh. We're here Johnny. I promise you're safe."

Johnny weakly lifted a hand to grab onto Soda and clung to him, his words coming out broken with cries. "Socs, man. And one was wearing a bunch of rings."

Soda studied the long cut on Johnny's face, seeing blood still coming from it, at the same time he heard footsteps coming toward them. "But you're okay now. We're going to take care of you. I've got you, Johnny Kid." He carefully drew his friend closer, holding him within the instilled fear and fresh injuries. "I've got you, and nobody's going to hurt you anymore."


"What was that, man? I'm way over here!"

Soda chuckled at Steve's amused indignation, as he chased down the wayward Frisbee and attempted a second toss. "It was the wind, Stevie."

Steve caught the Frisbee this time. "Wind? What wind?"

Darry's voice came from the now-open back door. "Hey, you two. How's it going?"

Soda caught the Frisbee out of the air, as he looked toward his big brother. "Hey, Dar. You home for lunch?"

Darry stepped out onto the porch. "Yeah. And to check on you, little buddy." He shifted his gaze to Steve. "Could you give us a minute, please?"

Steve nodded without hesitation and gave Soda's shoulder a squeeze, before he went inside the house.

Soda looked down at the Frisbee still in his hands, as he stood on the grass beside the porch steps. "You want to talk about last night, don't you?"

Darry sat down on the top step, motioning for Soda to join him. "Yeah. I do."

Soda tossed the Frisbee to the ground, as he sat beside his brother. "Sorry I wasn't totally honest with you at first."

Darry put his arm around Soda, rubbing his shoulder. "That's okay, Sodapop. I know it's hard. I'm glad you can talk about this at all."

"Steve tell you anything I said?"

"A little bit. Just that it did help you to talk, and you were trying to wait and see if you started to feel better."

"I don't want to give up, Darry. I'm scared to think I could."

"I know, little buddy."

"That's why I told Steve everything I've been thinking and why I wanted you to take my wallet. I'm trying not to do it."

"I know that too. So how are you feeling today?"

"I don't know. Not too bad, I guess. Kind of up and down."

"You still having those same thoughts, or is that better?"

"They're in my head, but they ain't as strong. I'm not feeling like, you know, acting on it or anything."

"Okay." Darry paused, his arm still around Soda, whose gaze had wandered to the Frisbee on the grass. "Hey, little buddy, can you look at me?"

Soda's eyes moved up to meet his brother's.

"The plan you said you had, are you still thinking about it?"

Soda's head dropped, eyes drifting back down. "Um..." He then felt Darry's fingers under his chin, tension twisting him in knots, as he was forced to look at his brother's face. "I- I can't. Please don't, Darry."

Darry didn't waver, keeping his hold on Soda's chin. "Don't what?"

Soda closed his eyes, as he put both hands on Darry's wrist and held onto it. "I've cried so much, and I don't want to anymore."

"I need to know what's going on with you. That's why I'm asking. So please tell me."

"I'm- I'm not going to do it, Darry. I promise. I mean, it's still in my head, yeah. But..."

"Open your eyes, Pepsi Cola."

Soda did as Darry asked, his brown orbs once again meeting his brother's blue ones. "Sorry, Dar. I know you need to ask."

Darry let go of Soda's chin, instead choosing to grasp both of his hands. "You don't have to apologize. I just really need to know you're being honest with me right now."

"I am. I really am. It's not like I just totally stopped thinking about- about doing it. But even if I feel like it, I won't."

"So what will you do?"

"I'll come talk to you or Steve. I swear I'll keep asking for help."

Darry drew Soda into his arms, his embrace as tight as he could make it. "We're talking every single day, little buddy. Everyday, you're going to tell me how you're doing and how you're feeling. You got that?"

Soda felt the tension begin to drain out of him, as he laid his head on Darry's chest, security found within his brother's firm determination. "I got it, Dar."

"I want you to always tell me the truth too, all right? Even if it's something scary. Cause I can't do a damn thing to help you, if I don't know what's happening. So please be open with me, Sodapop."

"I will."

Darry slowly broke the embrace, unsurprised by the tears he could see in Soda's eyes. "I wasn't trying to make you cry again, little buddy. I'm sorry."

"No. It's- It's okay. I'm sure I would have anyway. Already did earlier with Steve too."

"Can I tell you one more thing, before we go inside?"

"Yeah."

Darry leaned closer to Soda, their faces almost touching. "You are not a burden in any way, Sodapop. Not now. Not ever. There's so much I never could've gotten through without you. So whenever this all gets too hard, please lean on me. Please let me be your strength."


"Man, I told you not to cheat again!"

Soda pasted an innocent look on his face, as he responded to Steve's accusation. "But I didn't cheat, Stevie. I never cheat."

Steve tried to keep from laughing, as he reached for the card in Soda's sock. "Really, man? You always put them in the same place too."

"I don't even know who put that there."

Steve chuckled, as he threw the card at Soda. "You're a terrible liar anyway, buddy. But maybe even worse when it comes to cards." He looked at the clock that hung on the Curtis' living room wall. "I hate to do this, man. But I gotta head home and get dressed for work."

Soda put his hand of cards face down on the carpet, his eyes looking at the design on the back. "Okay, Stevie."

Steve sighed and set his own hand down across from Soda's, the remainder of the deck stacked between them. "You'll be all right, man. Pony will be home soon, and Darry won't be far behind him."

"Yeah. I know."

"What do you want me to tell Mr. Coleman, if he asks about you?"

"You can just tell him I'm feeling better, and I'll see him in the morning."

Steve got to his feet, noticing Soda stand up along with him, his best friend's expression unchanging. "Don't keep looking like that, buddy. You'll be fine."

"Yeah."

"Give me a hug, brother."

Soda felt Steve pull him close and hugged him back. "Thank you, Stevie."

"You don't gotta say that anymore, man. You're always welcome."

"But I still wanted to tell you cause I don't know if-"

Steve heard the tremble in Soda's voice and squeezed him tighter. "Yeah. You don't have to explain either, buddy. I know it."

Soda pulled away, eyes watery, as he grinned at Steve. "So much for keeping myself together, huh?"

"You've got every right to cry, man." Every right to fall apart, Steve thought. Especially if falling apart is what's going to help you stay alive.


"Those fuckin', no good- Who the hell do they think they are beating up on Johnny like that? Just wait til I get my hands on those bastards!"

Soda heard Dallas' rant of righteous anger in the background, as he sat on the edge of the couch beside an injured Johnny. "Hey, Dal. I'm totally with you, man. But he needs to rest."

Dallas halted his pacing around the Curtis' living room and stared at Johnny, the deep cut on the side of his face fueling the rage. "Those sons of bitches need to pay, Sodapop. And one day, I swear they will."


"Hey, Pone. You're home pretty early."

Pony looked at Soda, who sat on the porch swing, casually puffing on a cigarette. "Yeah. Left as soon as my last class was over."

Soda let his head rest on the back of the swing, as he took a drag off the cigarette. "I've been home all day."

"Yeah. I know." Pony put his backpack down on the porch, before he sat beside his brother. "Soda?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened last night?"

"I was just having a tough time, Pony."

"Why can't you be honest with me?"

Soda lifted his head up off the swing, then put his cigarette out and tossed it over the porch railing. "I am being honest."

"No, you're not. You're going around my question, like I don't know anything about how you've been lately. I'm not thirteen anymore, Soda. You don't have to keep trying to protect me."

"You're my little brother. I'll always protect you, no matter how old you are."

"Were you suicidal?"

"Pony, I-"

"Just tell me the truth. I can handle it, and I'm not going to yell at you or anything."

Soda reached for Pony's hand and squeezed it. "I was feeling like that last night, so yeah."

"So that's why Steve came over and stayed with you?"

"Yeah."

"And that's why you and Darry were sitting out here, and he said you needed us right now?"

"Yeah, Pone."

"Steve said it helped you to talk. Did it?"

"It did. It helped a lot."

"What did you talk about?"

"Just what I was thinking and how I was feeling."

"What's so bad that you could think about killing yourself? What happened, Soda?"

"I ain't really sure, Pone. I guess it's a lot of things. I just don't feel good inside."

"Was it cause of the flashbacks and the dreams?"

"That's part of it. I mean, it's not like me getting shot is the only bad thing to happen. But it really hurt me a whole lot."

"You never thought about killing yourself before that, did you?"

"No."

"You're the most honest with Steve, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Cause he gets it all better than anybody else does. Not even just the thoughts I have, but everything."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Darry understands a lot too."

"It's crazy how I used to think he didn't care and stuff, ain't it?"

"Yeah, Pone. Cause he sure does. He loves you and me both a lot. He tells me all the time too."

"It's also crazy how I used to think Steve was a jerk."

"He just never used to let you see his softer side, Kiddo."

"Yeah. He only let you see that before."

"He even lets me see it now in ways he didn't used to. But, believe me, it was always there."


"Yeah. I think he's feeling better, Sir. He should be here in the morning."

Mr. Coleman listened to Steve's voice that drifted from underneath a Honda in the garage. "I admit I got worried when Darry called me, instead of Sodapop. For a second there, I thought something was really wrong."

You have no idea, Steve thought, as he picked up the wrench to tighten a bolt. "Yeah. I'm sure Darry just wanted to make sure he got plenty of rest."

Mr. Coleman sorted through the paperwork on the metal desk in the corner of the garage, then stapled several of the sheets together. "It's unusual for Sodapop to miss work for any sort of illness. In two years, I think it's happened just a couple of times. The last one being when he had bronchitis a few months ago. And even then, I had to tell him to stay home."

"Yeah. Soda wants to work, that's for sure."

"Should I be worried about him, Steve?"

Steve slid the creeper out from under the Honda, his back to Mr. Coleman, as he sat up on it. "Um, no, Sir. I think he'll be all right. Like I said, he's feeling better."

"Maybe I'm treading a line here, but it reminds me of how you had some unusual absences when you weren't doing so well."

Steve started putting the wrench and other tools back in the toolbox, still not turning to look at his boss. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I did."

"How's Sodapop doing with everything? I know he still gets jumpy when he's here. I've seen it. But is that all?"

Steve closed the toolbox, his greasy fingers latching it shut. "No, Sir. It's not."

"I'm not trying to pry. I'm just wondering if he's okay."

"He's working on it, Sir. Everything's under control."


"It hurts, Soda."

Soda stroked Johnny's hair, as he remained near his friend's side. "I know, Johnnycake. Maybe you can have more aspirin, huh?"

Johnny's dark eyes stared up at Soda, as he lifted a hand to touch the long cut on his face that Darry had cleaned with alcohol. "Am I going to have a tuff scar?"

"Yeah, kiddo. The tuffest one ever."

"Did Dal leave?"

"Yeah. He did."

"Tell him ain't worth it, Soda. Tell him it ain't worth getting hurt."

"He ain't gonna get hurt. Probably just blowing off some steam. He'll never admit it, but he's crazy about you, Johnnykid."

"He's pissed, ain't he?"

Soda grinned at Johnny, getting the smallest of smiles in return. "Well, of course. But it's Dal. He's always pissed."

"Did ya'll think I was dead?"

The grin fell from Soda's face, the image of Johnny's still form flashing into his mind. "Yeah. For a split second."

"I thought they might kill me."

"I know, Kiddo. But they didn't. Cause you're tough. And you'll be good as new in no time, as long as you got the gang taking care of you."


"Hey, little buddy, why are you bleeding?"

Soda jumped at the sound of Darry's voice that came from his bedroom doorway. He then blinked at the blood just beginning to seep out of the small scratches on his right arm. "Um, it's nothing, Dar."

Darry stepped into Soda's room, joining him right in front of the dresser, his middle brother's demeanor compelling him to look closer.

Soda took one step back from Darry, but froze when his big brother grabbed a hold of his arm. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

Darry saw fingernail-shaped arches on the skin near Soda's scar, along with the bleeding scratches. "Soda, what the hell is going on?"

Soda turned his head, looking away from Darry, knowing his brother wasn't about to let him go. "It's just a little blood, Dar."

Aware of Pony's presence on the other side of the house, Darry closed the bedroom door. "Just a little blood, huh? This ain't just anything, if you did it to yourself."

Soda bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, able to feel Darry's hold on him growing tighter. "I- I was just- It didn't even hurt or anything and-"

"And what? What the hell are you thinking?"

"Sorry, Darry."

"I'm not looking for an apology here, Sodapop. So just drop it. And look at me, damn it!"

Soda flinched at Darry's raised voice. "Don't yell at me, Darry. Please. I swear I'll do better. I'll never do it again."

Darry released Soda's arm and turned away from his brother, letting the moments pass, as he breathed in deeply.

Soda immediately moved to his bed and curled up on it, ignoring the tiny spots of blood that soaked into his jeans.

Darry heaved one last deep breath, before slowly turning around. He moved in measured steps toward Soda's bed and laid a hand on his brother's back.

Soda tensed at the touch, drawing in a startled breath.

Darry sat down close to Soda, moving his hand in soothing circles. "I'm not going to yell anymore, okay? And I sure as hell am not going to hurt you. So please talk to me, little buddy."

Soda remained silent, tears of frustration seeping out of his eyes.

"You know, I was thinking. That day we were playing basketball down at the park, you told me you missed just being my little brother. I don't think I'd ever realized what else you must've felt like you lost after Mom and Dad died."

Soda finally spoke, his voice quiet and choked. "But I didn't lose as much as you did."

"I'm not so sure about that. You grew up too fast too, Sodapop."

"But I was never going to do anything or be anyone. You were."

"You are someone, and I'm still your big brother. I never stopped being that, even when I had to step up and be your guardian too. As much as everything had to change, we never lost that, little buddy. You never lost me."

"I didn't want to think anymore, and I knew it would make me stop."

"You knew what would make you stop?"

Soda fell quiet once again, still curled up on the bed, head resting on his knees.

Darry moved his hand to the back of Soda's head. "You mean what I saw? The scratches and the blood?"

Soda nodded, not letting himself speak.

Darry looked at his brother's arm and the quickly fading injuries, blood no longer coming out of the scratches. "If you knew it would make you stop thinking, does that mean you've done this before?"

Soda nodded once more, hesitantly turning his head to look at Darry, as tears fell down his face, and he watched for impending signs.

Darry pressed his lips to the top of Soda's head, needing to erase the expression that told of fear. "I'm still not leaving you, and I still love you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. How many times has this happened before and when?"

"Just once and only a little over a week ago."

"Okay. Was it anything like the time you pulled on your stitches?"

"Kind of. This wasn't cause of a flashback. But it sort of made me feel the same way. Like I said, I couldn't think anymore."

"Had you told Steve or anyone else?"

"Steve saw me doing it the first time. He was talking, and I didn't even hear him. He came in and grabbed my hand to stop me. The marks and the blood, they weren't there long."

"So you haven't hurt yourself with anything else, besides your nails?"

"No. I think Steve was afraid I would. After he, um, saw me, he said I had to see Dr. Morgan, and if I wouldn't, he'd give you her name and number, even if I didn't want him to."

"So that's what made you come talk to me about her when you did?"

"Yeah. I mean, I might've anyway. But I didn't want Steve to do that, and I knew he would."

"You'd do the same thing, if it was him hurting himself at all."

"Yeah."

"I'm glad you've got that appointment already, little buddy, after everything that's gone on even just since I called."

"I'm nervous about it, Darry. I know I need to go, but I still am."

"I know you are. I couldn't expect you not to be."

"Steve keeps telling me she'll only want to help."

"Of course she will."

"And he keeps telling me to be honest with her."

"Yeah. You need to be."

"You'll make sure I am, won't you?"

"In any way I can."

Soda felt a fresh batch of tears fill his eyes. "I've been the worst bawl baby today."

Darry pulled Soda against him so that his head rested on his chest. "But that's all right. Cry if you need to cry. Hell, I'd never stop either, if I felt everything you've been telling me about."

"Did I make you cry last night?"

"No. You didn't make me cry. But seeing and hearing the pain you're in did make me cry."

"I made Steve cry a lot last night."

"It hurts him the same way, little buddy. He sure loves you something fierce. That's as plain as day, and coming from Steve, you know it's as real as can be."

"Yeah. I don't know what I'd do without him. You either, Dar. I'd be lost without you too."

Not as lost as I'd be without you, Darry thought. "Why don't you come eat dinner with me and Pony, okay? It was his night to cook, and he should be about done now."

Soda lifted his head from Darry's chest, wiping away what was left of the tears. "Okay. I think I'll head to bed right after that too."

"That's probably a good idea. But you tell me if you want to talk anymore, all right?"

"Yeah, Dar. I'll tell you if I do. But I think I'll just want to sleep."


"You seem distracted tonight."

Nicholas took Audrey's hand in his own. "I guess I am."

Audrey touched Nicholas' cheek, looking close enough to see the sadness his eyes held. "What are you thinking about?"

"Steve. And Sodapop too."

"Do you know what I love about you, Nicholas?"

Nicholas gave Audrey a small smile. "How handsome and romantic I am?"

"Well, yes. That too. But what I love the most is your devotion to everyone in your life."


"Is Johnny going to be all right, Soda?"

Soda climbed into the bed beside Pony. "Yeah, Pone. He's just resting. He's going to be okay."

Pony turned over to his side, cheek pressed against the cool pillow. "Are you sure? He looked real bad when we found him."

"I know." Soda stared at the dark ceiling, hands tucked behind his head. "But we got to him in time, so he'll be all right. Trust me."


"I should've known you'd be back again tonight."

Steve scowled at Pony, as he let himself in the Curtis' front door. "What's up your ass, Kid?"

Pony rinsed off the last of the silverware and set it out to dry, as he rolled his eyes. "Nothing's up my ass, Steve Randle."

Darry came into the kitchen, sending a glare at his little brother. "Stop being rude, Pone. Steve's allowed to come over."

Pony walked away from the sink and picked his pack of cigarettes up off the counter, ignoring Darry's admonishment. "I'm sick of my brother only telling you the truth. How does being abused by some psycho a long time ago give you the right-"

Darry's glare turned even colder. "Stop it, Ponyboy Michael. Don't you dare throw that in Steve's face. Get outside and cool off, if you can't act decent."

Pony shot a glare of his own toward Steve, before making his way out to the back porch, cigarettes in hand.

Darry turned to look at Steve, not expecting the shocked expression or pale face that stared back at him. "I'm sorry about that, Steve. You okay?"

Steve found he couldn't speak, only staring down at his feet.

Darry moved closer and put his hands on each of Steve's shoulders. "Hey, I'm so glad you're there for Soda like you are. Pony's pissed, but I don't think it really has anything to do with you at all."

Steve let himself fall against Darry, face buried in the older man's shoulder. "It's not just cause I was abused. It's not-"

Darry's arms wrapped around Steve, as he heard his voice crack. "I know."

A sob started to escape Steve, and he clutched onto Darry. "And Soda and me, we don't have the same blood, but-"

"Shh. I know. You're brothers just the same. Pony knows that too. I'm sorry he's lashing out at you."

"He thinks he does, but he doesn't want to hear the stuff Soda tells me."

"No, he really doesn't."

"I'm sorry if I'm ever out of line, Darry. But I-"

"Hell, no, Steve. You're not out of line one little bit."

Steve eased himself out of Darry's arms and looked at his face. "Where is Soda anyway, Superman? I came to see him, not have a breakdown in your kitchen."

Darry kept one hand on Steve's shoulder, squeezing it. "He's already in bed. I'm not sure if he's asleep yet, but you can go check, if you want."

Steve nodded, using both hands to wipe the tears off his face. "Damn. I don't want him to see me like this, if he's awake. Cause he'll know something happened."

"Seems like just the thing that'd make him feel bad too, doesn't it? Are you okay now?"

"Yeah. I'll be all right. I'm just going to clean myself up and go check on Soda."


Steve opened Soda's bedroom door just enough to look in at him. "Hey, you still awake, buddy?"

When Soda didn't stir, Steve stepped inside and walked over to the bed. He felt a breeze blow through the open window, as he looked at his best friend, Pony's claims not far from his mind. He found himself sitting on the edge of the mattress, watching Soda's chest rise and fall, as he whispered to him. "I never would've done this before you were in the hospital, buddy. But I just needed to see you and make sure you're still breathing."


"I ain't apologizin' to him, Darry."

Darry joined Pony on the back porch, his reply quick. "I'm not telling you to."

Pony faced the backyard, blowing smoke into the night, before he put his cigarette out. "You're not?"

"Nope. Because Steve doesn't deserve a fake apology. You hurt him with what you said, Ponyboy. He trusted you with what happened to him, and you used it against him. What would Soda say about this?"

"Doesn't matter. Cause he didn't hear me."

"It does matter, Pony. Steve's his best friend."

"And I'm his little brother! I should get to help him more! I should get to know all of what's going on, not just what ya'll decide to tell me!"

"You know what? It's fine to feel that way, Kiddo. It's okay to be angry. But it ain't okay to take it out on anyone else, especially someone who'd do anything for Soda."

"I don't see what's so great about Steve anyway. Soda pours his heart out to him why? Just because he overdosed? Just cause he tried to kill himself over something from a long time ago? I don't get that either."

"You've been talking to Steve too, Ponyboy. Are you saying all this now because he was here last night?"

"Soda's my brother."

"He's my brother too."

"He tells you what's going on. And if he doesn't, Steve does. I asked you to be real with me, Darry!"

"All right then, Kiddo. You want me to be real with you?"

"You told me we'd talk tonight."

"I know I did."

"I asked Soda if he was suicidal last night."

"What did he tell you?"

"Not much. He never tells me much. Just that yeah, he was feeling like that. He wouldn't really tell me why or what he and Steve talked about."

Darry sat down on the porch steps, motioning for Pony for follow suit. "Listen, Ponyboy. Just sit here with me and listen for a minute."

Pony took a seat beside his brother, not expecting it when Darry's arm went around his shoulders. "Okay. I guess I can do that."

"Last night was bad for Soda. The word you just used, 'suicidal', that's more right than I wanted it to ever be. It's more right than I ever thought it could be too. I want you to know that I'm not trying to keep you in the dark or leave you on the outside. Soda's not either. Neither is Steve."

"Did Soda come close to hurting himself?"

"No. Because he's been able to ask for help if and when he feels like it. That's what he did last night."

"He told me he doesn't feel good inside. Do you know what that means?"

"Yes. I do. He's got a lot of fear and guilt and sadness, Pony. More than that, he's not feeling secure or confident, like he used to."

"If you're not trying to keep me in the dark, what are you trying to do?"

"You're fifteen, Kiddo. I know you hate hearing that. But last night, as much as you want to know everything, it's better you don't know the details of what Soda was experiencing. Though I will tell you he was having a lot of suicidal thoughts, and he needed more than anything to talk about it. Which is exactly what he did."

"Did he make ya'll think he was going to hurt himself?"

"Yes. He did, Pone. He'd been talking to me a lot both out front where you saw us and after we went inside. But he wasn't quite as open as he needed to be."

"So that's when Steve came over?"

"Yeah. But he came here because, however this works, he had a bad feeling. He wanted to check on Soda, so that's what he did. I'm more than certain that his being here is what made Soda open up more. So before you go jumping down Steve's throat or bringing up a past you know still hurts him, maybe you should remember that."


Eyes opened, partial wakefulness bringing with it the desire for escape. Cool air blew in, leading the body to rise and feet to carry it out into the refuge of night.