Morning dawned, fading night bringing with it an unsettling mystery.


"Dad, wake up and shut off that damn alarm."

Nicholas stirred, Steve's voice mixing with the noise of the alarm. He heaved an arm up, shutting off the sound, his eyes opening to see his son stretched out in the space next to him. "When'd you come in here?"

Steve rubbed his eyes that were still thick with sleep, comfortable under the covers. "Don't know. Hours ago, I guess."

"Nightmares or something?"

"No. Just wanted to be close. I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep at first."

"Worried about Sodapop?"

"Yeah."

Nicholas rose, sliding out of the bed and going toward his dresser. "He's got that doctor's appointment today, right?"

"Yeah. I told him I'd stop over there at lunch time. It's close to the school."

Nicholas chose a shirt and a pair of pants. "You getting up, Son?"

"In a minute, Dad."

Clothes still in hand, Nicholas went over to where Steve lie and knelt down, putting them at eye-level. "We didn't talk much when you got home last night. Are you still okay?"

Steve gave Nicholas a small grin, as he nodded. "Yeah. I'm okay. I mean, I have my moments. You've seen that."

"I have. So I want to make sure I'm here when you need me, Son."

"You are, Dad. You don't even have to try so hard, you know."

"It's just after the other night especially, I-"

Steve reached out and put a hand on Nicholas' shoulder. "I know. But I'm doing all right. There will be times I'm not, and I'll come to you when they happen."


"Hey, Darry, do you know where Soda is?"

Darry poured himself a cup of coffee, as he spoke to Pony. "He's not in his room?"

Pony looked outside, seeing both Darry's pick-up and Soda's Chevy in the driveway. "No. I don't see him anywhere."

"He has to be here somewhere, Pone. Are you sure he's not in the bathroom or something?"

"I checked. He's not."

Darry sipped his coffee, a thought occurring to him.

Pony watched Darry dash away, before following him down the hall.

Darry first looked into Soda's room, spotting his brother's wallet on the dresser.

"I told you he's not in here."

Darry didn't reply, before he went to his own bedroom and opened the drawer, where he'd put the cash Soda had asked him to keep.

"What are you looking for?"

Darry picked up the bills, counting them quickly and realizing all the cash was still there. "Nothing, Pone. Just checking something."

"What's that money have to do with Soda?"

Darry put the bills back and closed the drawer. "Never mind. Let's just figure out where he is."


"Leave me alone, Darry! I can do what I want!"

Soda heard Pony's raised voice from inside the house, bracing himself to hear Darry yell back at him.

"Hell, no, you can't, Ponyboy! If you're going to talk to me that way, you can just take your ass to your room!"

Soda sighed, given only a second to debate an action, before Darry joined him on the front porch. "What are ya'll fightin' about?"

Darry gripped the porch railing, putting all of his strength into it. "Hell, if I know. I just told him to make sure he doesn't walk anywhere alone tonight."

"I think he's scared, Dar. Cause of Johnny."

"Yeah? Well, that's exactly why I'm telling him not to walk alone."

"I know. But maybe you just gotta say it in a nicer way."

"Really, little buddy? I did. I wasn't yelling at him til he yelled at me. How is it my fault if-"

"Darry, I'm not blaming you. It's just I know how Pony takes stuff sometimes, and he still ain't used to you telling him what to do all the time either."

"Well, he's going to have to get used to it. We can't be fighting everyday."

"I'll talk to him, okay?"

"He'll listen to you better than he'll listen to me."

"Of course he will. Both of you listen to me better than you ever do each other."


Darry stepped out onto the back porch, eyes searching every inch of the yard, before they landed on a hint of a silhouette. He walked down the steps, going toward the sight that lie just on the other side of the tree in the center of the yard, mostly hidden from plain view. "Sodapop?"

Darry ran the last few yards, unable to quench the fear in his heart, as he saw Soda with his body slumped against the tree trunk, his eyes closed. He knelt beside his brother and shook his shoulder, while also seeing that he was breathing. "Wake up, Sodapop! Wake up right now!"

Soda groaned, moving his head that was lolled back against the tree. "Hmm?"

Darry put his own face close to Soda's, panic bleeding into his voice. "What the hell are you doing out here, little buddy? We couldn't find you!"

Soda opened his eyes, slowly taking in his surroundings and Darrys' gaze that was searching for answers. "Must've fell asleep. Is it morning?"

"Yes. It's morning. How did you fall asleep in the backyard? For a minute there, I thought-"

"You thought what?"

"Never mind. Just tell me how you ended up here."

Soda sat up straight and stretched, aware of the splint that was still on his arm. He felt the grass brush against his legs, the cool air touching his body that was clad in only shorts and a white t-shirt. "I woke up and wanted to be outside."

"Do you know what time it was?"

"Nah. Feels like a while though."

Darry stared at Soda for a moment, before looking back at the house. "Damn. Pony's still wondering where you are."

Soda started to stand, pushing himself up off the ground. "Yeah, and I need to get to work."

Darry stood to his full height, helping Soda when he saw he was unsteady. "You okay, little buddy?"

"Yeah. Just kinda stiff from sleeping on the ground like that."

"You must've got cold too. What made you want to be outside enough to come out here in the middle of the damn night?"

"Just makes me feel calmer, Dar."

"All right. Let's go inside." Darry slipped his arm around Soda's shoulders, his grip tighter than usual, as they both went toward the porch steps. "I'll drive you to work, so I can just pick you up there right before your appointment."

Soda stopped on the top step. "I think that's why I woke up."

"What is?"

"I'm still real nervous, Dar."

"I know. That's why I'll be there with you. And there's only one thing you have to do."

"What's that?"

"Whatever she asks, tell her the truth."


"Hey, TwoBit. I miss anything interesting yesterday?"

TwoBit fell into step beside Steve, both of them walking across the school's courtyard. "Nah. Just me chasing Pony down out behind the school building."

Steve could help rolling his eyes. "What for?"

"Cause he was upset about Soda. Told me why you weren't here and that Soda didn't go to work either."

"What exactly did the kid tell you?"

"How Soda's been feeling lately. And that you came over and talked to him the other night."

"Oh."

"So how's Soda doing now?"

"Better than that night, for sure." Steve pulled TwoBit aside, both of them now standing well away from the crowd of students heading into the school's double doors. "What did Pony tell you about how he's been feeling?"

TwoBit reached out and put a hand on Steve's shoulder, his voice quieter than ever typical for the humorous Greaser. "He told me Soda's felt like killing himself."

Steve sucked in a quick breath, the coldness of reality finally dropping its weight on him. "Oh my God, TwoBit."

"What? You knew that already."

"Yeah. Of course I did. The way me and Soda talk is one thing that made Pony start saying shit to me last night."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. The kid just got mad. He thinks he wants to hear everything. But he has no damn idea how much worse it is."

"How much worse what is?"

"Soda."

TwoBit watched Steve's expression, his eyes seeming to fall into detachment. He squeezed his friend's shoulder, speaking once more. "Yeah. He told me he doesn't know all that much. I get ya'll trying to protect him from certain stuff, if it's real serious."

Steve felt Soda's words rush back at him, the plan his best friend had expressed afflicting his mind with images of a death he knew he'd never be able to bear. "If he- I couldn't- Not Soda."

"Yeah. I know, man. But you've got his back, right? You two always do for each other."

"Yes. Of course. But the other night, TwoBit, it was- it was real bad."

"Pony was so upset cause he knew it must've been."

"I'm so damn glad I was there for Soda though. I couldn't leave him at all after everything he told me."

"Whatever all it was, I bet he needed that."

"Yeah. He sure did." Steve shifted his gaze from TwoBit to the school building, becoming aware of the time passing, as fewer students were trickling through the door. "I think I need to get to class."


"Darry just wants to make sure you use your head, Pone. That's all."

Pony closed the journal he'd been writing in and turned around in his desk chair to look at Soda. "But he doesn't have to act like I don't know how. I already know I shouldn't walk anywhere by myself."

Soda sat down on the edge of the bed, facing Pony. "He doesn't mean it like that. He just gets worried cause he loves you."

"Even if he loves me, he sure doesn't like me all that much. He likes you more."

"Darry does love you, Pone." Soda nudged Pony's shoulder, shooting him a smile. "And of course he likes me more. Both of you have always liked me better."


"Hey, Sodapop. How are you? Feeling better?"

Soda closed the cash register drawer, before turning to Mr. Coleman and giving him a grin. "I'm feeling okay, Sir. But, um, when you get a second, there's kinda something I need to talk to you about."

Mr. Coleman's eyes wandered around the station, mentally checking off the tasks he'd completed so far this morning, before he leaned against the counter. "Okay. I've got a few minutes now. What's going on?"

"Well, you know how I went to the doctor last Friday. The one I've been seeing since the, um, shooting."

"Yes. Dr. Simons, right? How'd it go?"

"He said that the nerve in my arm, it is, uh, damaged."

"I'm sorry, Sodapop. So what he did he say could help treat it?"

"Just simple stuff. Like I've got this splint I wear at night. I'm supposed to use ice and heat on it too."

"The kind of things you do for many injuries. Do you think it's helping?"

"Maybe. I mean, the symptoms mostly come and go a lot anyway. That's one reason Dr. Simons thinks it'll get better over time."

"Sounds like you got good news then too."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"We'll still take it day-by-day. But I think I could have you start working in the garage again. You're coming back this afternoon, right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"So we'll start then. I just need you to tell me if and when those symptoms flare up, okay? Just in case they might affect the work you can or should do. How's your arm right now?"

"Not bad, I guess. It and my fingers feel a little achy."

"All right. Let me know if it gets to be more than that though. And Sodapop?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"Also let me know if there's ever anything else you need."

"I will, Mr. Coleman. Thanks."

Mr. Coleman moved closer to Soda and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I mean it. I know I'm your boss, but that doesn't mean I can't help."


"Kid, I really don't feel like talking to you right now."

Pony stood beside Steve's locker, unsurprised by the older Greaser's remark. "Yeah. I get that. But I owe you an apology."

Steve's hand gripped the door of his locker. "I don't want to hear it just cause you feel bed. Or cause Darry said you have to apologize."

"Darry ain't makin' me because he said it shouldn't be fake. And I do feel bad, but that's not why I'm sorry. I really am sorry too, Steve."

"Why, Kid? Why would you bring that shit up?"

"Cause I was mad. But it was wrong. I owe you more of an explanation too, not just an apology."

"Hell, yeah, you do."

"I hope I didn't screw this up. I kinda like what we've had lately."

"You didn't screw it up, all right? Man, you talk about Soda not being real with you. But maybe you should pull your head out of your ass and try being real with me."


"Hey, what are you sitting there thinking so hard about, man?"

Soda sat beside Steve on the hood of the Ford in the DX parking lot, his foot tapping a headlight. "Nothing. Just wondering what I might do tonight."

Steve held a pack of cigarettes out to Soda. "Here. You look like you could use one."

Soda took the offered cigarette, lighting it after Steve lit his own, foot still tapping. "You and Evie want to double with me and Sandy tonight?"

"Sure. Sounds like a good time."


"Breathe, Sodapop. It's going to be all right."

Soda felt Darry's hand rubbing his back, the brothers both sitting in the truck in the front of the community mental health center. "I don't know, Dar. I don't know."

Darry leaned over and pulled Soda closer, arms wrapping around him. "I'll be right out in the waiting room the whole time. You can do this, little buddy."

Soda heaved quick breaths, panic threatening to take over, even as he held onto Darry. "I'm sorry. I know I should just go in and-"

"No. It's okay. I figured you'd need a minute, and we're a little early."

Soda's eyes wandered to the door of the center, as he rested his head on Darry's shoulder, his heart still beating fast. She's just a doctor, he told himself. It's okay. She's just a- "Please take me home, Darry."

"You know I can't do that."

"But then, we can both go back to work, and I swear nothing that's happened will ever happen again and-"

Darry squeezed Soda tighter for a moment, before gently pushing him back. "Listen to me, little buddy. All you've gotta do is talk to her. You can do that. I know you can."

Soda grasped the sleeve of Darry's shirt, bunching the material up in his fist, as he stared at the center. "No. No, I can't. Please listen. I need you to hear me, Darry."

"I do hear you, Sodapop. I am listening, okay? I know you're nervous and scared. But you'll be all right."

"Don't let her do it. Please, Darry. Don't."

Darry caught Soda's gaze, able to see the plea in his brown eyes. "Don't let her do what? No one's going to hurt you, little buddy."

Soda started to shake Darry's shoulder. "They're gone, Darry. They're gone, and they're never coming back."

Darry covered Soda's hand with his own, giving it a squeeze. "Everything's okay right now. You're okay too. I'm not sure what all you're thinking, but nothing is happening. Please hear me say that."

Soda stared into Darry's pale blue eyes, finding in them the safety and security loss had so cruelly stolen from him at such a tender age. "Okay. I hear you."

Darry watched Soda begin to relax, seeing the distress visibly dissipate. "I'm right here, and you're going to be fine. Let's head on inside."


Steve's fingers pressed to his temples, attempting to quiet the noise of grief that threatened to envelope his mind.

Calm the fuck down, he told himself, as he heard Mr. Johnson's voice over his thoughts and tried to focus on it. You've got to calm down. Soda's being honest, and he's getting help.

Steve picked up his pencil and rolled it along his fingers. He's being even more honest than I was, he thought. He's been laying his whole heart out, letting me inside his mind.

Steve started to copy down the words Mr. Johnson was writing on the board, the tap of the chalk keeping time with the strokes of his pencil. That's going to be enough, he thought. It has to be enough to keep him here with us.


"We're taking Evie and Sandy, Kid. So, no, you can't come with us. Go tag along with somebody else."

Soda elbowed Steve hard in the ribs, then spoke to Pony himself. "We are taking the girls, Pone. Sorry."

Pony glared at Steve, the other Greaser returning the look. "All you had to do was say that, Steve. I ain't trying to join your date."

Steve rolled his eyes, before turning to Soda. "So you ready to go, man?"

Pony noted Soda's half-dressed appearance, then chimed in once more. "Yeah, Steve, he's going without a shirt."

Soda chuckled, as Steve glared. "Well, I'm sure Sandy would appreciate it."

Steve picked one of Soda's shirts form the pile of unfolded laundry on the couch and shoved it at his best friend. "Let's get a move-on, buddy. So we can go pick up the girls. Can't keep them waiting."


"Sodapop Curtis?"

Soda looked up to see a petite woman with curled black hair, dressed in a knee-length skirt and a flowery yellow top. "Um, that's me."

The woman smiled at him, her dark brown eyes meeting his gaze. "I'm Dr. Morgan."

Soda looked over at Darry, who was in the chair beside him. "Staying right here?"

Darry nodded at Soda, an encouraging smile on his face, as he gave his brother's hand a squeeze. "Absolutely. I won't go anywhere."

Soda hesitantly stood to his feet, casting one last look at Darry, as he followed Dr. Morgan out the waiting room door and into a short hallway.

Dr. Morgan led the way to a small office with walls painted sky blue. She shifted a round table and set of chairs so that they were near the large window.

Soda looked around the office, his eyes taking in the shelf of books and the desk that held framed pictures and tidy stacks of folders. "So, uh, what do I do?"

Dr. Morgan drew the blinds fully open, slats letting in the light from outside, as she gestured to a cushioned chair. "You can have a seat there."

Soda sat down in the chair, his fingers tapping on the table, as he could feel his heart beating.

Dr. Morgan picked a clipboard up off her desk, then took the chair across from Soda's. "Okay, Sodapop. Why don't we get started?"

"Um, all right." Soda eyed the clipboard and the papers attached with the metal clip. "Do I need to fill more stuff out? I mean, it just seemed like there wasn't much to write on the forms I did already."

Dr. Morgan picked up her pen, filling out the upper portion of the top sheet on her clipboard. "You did all you were supposed to. I prefer to learn more about my patients face-to-face, rather than rely on what's on paper."

"Oh. That makes sense, I guess."

"First, I would just like to ask if there's anything you want to tell me today. Anything to do with what brings you here or how you've been feeling lately. Or anything that's happened you would like me to know about."

"Um, I'm- I'm here because, well, my brother and my best friend wanted me to come see you. Cause they're worried and scared."

"Okay. Are you saying they're worried about you?"

"Yeah. They are."

"Why? What's scaring them?"

"I- I haven't been okay lately."

"In what ways have you not been okay?"

"I, um, got shot a little over a month ago. And sometimes, I can still see the mask the guy was wearing. Or I feel like it's happening again."

"It sounds like you may be experiencing flashbacks."

"Yeah, uh, I actually had heard of that before. It doesn't happen as much now."

"It's possible it was more of an acute reaction to the stress brought on by the trauma. Are there other ways in which you haven't been okay?"

"Yeah."

"Is there anything else you'd like to tell me, before I focus more on specified questions that can help me assess where you are right now?"

"Um, no. You can ask whatever you need to, I guess."

"All right." Dr. Morgan flipped to the next sheet of paper on her clipboard. "Before we go any further, I want you to know that whatever you say stays in this room, unless I have reason to believe you're in any danger."

"Okay."

"And it's important that you're honest. There's no judgment and no right or wrong answers. These questions are only to help me understand the issues you may be experiencing and to determine the best ways to help you."


"Darry?"

Darry looked up to see Steve coming through the door. "Oh. Hey."

Steve's eyes wandered around the waiting room that wasn't too busy, as he took a seat beside Darry. "So how's it been so far?"

Darry spoke to Steve, his voice low. "Soda hasn't run out of the doctor's office, so I take that as a good sign."

"Yeah. Me too. Was he okay, you know, getting here?"

"Yeah. Until we got in the parking lot. God, Steve, he was pleading with me to take him home and talking like he thinks she'll hurt him or something."

"He's scared she'll stick him in the hospital, Superman. Cause of how he's feeling."

"Could she?"

"I didn't think so before the other night, but maybe. I didn't even tell him it scares me too."

"Right before we came in, I think he was talking about Mom and Dad."

"You think?"

"Yeah. Cause he was saying 'they're gone' and 'they're never coming back.'"

"He's been thinking about them a lot."

"Has Pony talked to you at all?"

"Yeah. Can't say I was exactly welcoming about it, but he did."

"He apologize?"

"Yeah. I could even tell he meant it."

"I didn't make him apologize to you last night because I wanted it to be genuine, Steve. I wanted him to do it on his own."

"I never thought something the kid said could hurt that bad, Superman. But it sure did."

"I know. I could tell. When I talked to Pony, I made sure he knew it hurt you. You trusted him with something that was a big deal, and he shouldn't have used it against you. For any reason. But especially not over Soda."

"I never knew you'd be so defensive of me. I hope you didn't tell Pony I bawled in your arms."

"I didn't tell him that. And of course I'm defensive of you. You're family, Steve. You know that."

"Yeah. I do."

"And when I talked to Pony, I didn't go into a whole lot of detail about Monday night, but I told him enough to get his mind on something, besides the fact that he's not the one Soda is confiding in right now. Nor should he be, as far as most of this goes. Pony's gotta see that this is about his brother having what he needs. I understand why he got mad, and I can deal with it, but making sure Soda opens up in a way that helps him cope is what's most important."


"Have you experienced thoughts of death or dying?"

Soda stared down at the floor, Dr. Morgan's question making him picture a hole that would swallow him up into the gray carpeting. "Um..."

Dr. Morgan used her well-practiced patience, as she waited for Soda's answer, letting several seconds pass, before prompting him. "Sodapop, remember there's no right or wrong answer."

"I- Yeah. I have. But I try to make them go away. I don't mean to think anything like that."

"No one does. It's okay. Is there any history of suicide or suicide attempts in your family?"

"No."

"Do the thoughts you have ever make you want to harm yourself?"

"Yeah."

"Do they lead you to consider suicide?"

Soda lifted both hands to cover his face, fingers pressing hard to tear-filled eyes. "I- I'm sorry. I can't. But I'm not going to do it. I swear."

"You can't what, Sodapop?"

"Please make it go away. How do I make it stop?"

"What is it you want to go away? How can I help you?"

"The thoughts... Please help me. It always hurts. It hurts since they left. Then, Pony almost- And Steve. I can't take any more."

"Who left?"

"Mom and Dad."

"And who are Pony and Steve? You mentioned you have brothers."

"My little brother. And my best friend. Darry. I need Darry."

"Is that your other brother?"

"Don't want him to ever leave me."

"Sodapop? Can you please let me see your eyes?"

"Pony was supposed to come back, not run away. Darry didn't mean to."

"Can you tell me what you're thinking about right now?"

"Stevie wasn't supposed to do that. I can't lose him too."

Dr. Morgan moved her own chair closer to Soda's, her voice soft, as she spoke to her new patient. "Sodapop, can we back up please? I'm happy to listen to anything you have to say. But I think we're on different pages. Can you-"

Soda stood to his feet, hands still covering his face, as he backed into the painted wall, beside the book shelf. "Please help me. I don't want to kill myself."

Dr. Morgan knelt in front of her patient, as Soda let himself sink to the floor. "Sodapop, that's what I want to do. I want to help you. Please listen to my voice."

"I need Darry. Can you get Darry?"

"Is he the one who was in the waiting room with you?"

"He's here. He came with me. He promised."

"Okay. I'll be right back, Sodapop."

"Please. I need him."

Dr. Morgan moved swiftly out the office door and down the hallway. She opened the waiting room door, her eyes immediately finding Darry right where Soda had left him. "Are you Darry Curtis?"

Darry nodded, questions burning in his gaze. "Yes. What's going on?"

Steve sat up straight, looking between Darry and Dr. Morgan. "Is Soda okay?"

Dr. Morgan focused on Darry, her voice firm. "Your brother's asking for you."

Darry was on his feet within a second, about to follow Dr. Morgan.

Steve moved just as quickly, stopping Darry with a hand on his shoulder. "Darry? I gotta head back to school soon. Please make sure he knows I was here."

"I will, Steve. Don't worry."

Steve watched Darry walk away, the door easing closed behind him with a soft, deafening click. Please, Soda, he thought. Please be all right. Whatever's going on back there, please be okay. You have to be okay.


Lightning flashed in his brown eyes, grief and loss at the center of the storm that had shaken his foundation.