hey gang, back with another one! a longer one this time. :)

sorry these last two updates have taken a few days between. been busy with my new job and trying to balance work life, school life, and personal life. it's not going well lol

anyways, here's this!

-endless

uncomfortable

I'll never know what I did to him.

And I guess that's good. I don't think I could take it if he said why he made me the center of all of the family problems. Why I was the reason that Darry couldn't go to college on his football scholarship. Why he started drinking for what felt like the fifteenth time.

I'll always wonder if I was the mistake, the middle child that was never supposed to happen. I'll always wonder if I was the result of a bad gene. I'll always wonder what I could've done more, could've tried more, could've been more. I'll always wonder how I could have made him see that I was worth it.

Seeing his face when I was on the brink of death, I don't think my attempt made him realize that I was sending him a message. I don't think he understood that it was a last-ditch effort to impress him; to show how devoted I was. To show him that despite never being the favored son, but always being the drop out, the soldier, the pathetic war veteran who didn't even know who he was anymore... I'm still a Curtis. I'm still his. I'm still Momma's. I'm still Darry's and Pony's and Steve's and Two-Bit's and Dally's and Johnny's.

I could never look Dad in the eye. I only hope that looking at my older brother is like looking at my father.

So having Darry next to me, protecting me, loving me, is more than I could ever ask for.

"What the hell did we miss?" are the first words out of Two-Bit's mouth.

"Not much." Steve and I look at one another as Darry answers him. "Just some routine stuff." He doesn't look away from Soda, and my heart sinks to the floor as I see that Soda is shaking even though the room is hotter than hell. A question rushes past in Steve's gaze: Since when is any one of us allowed in here during that?

"Routine, huh?" Two-Bit mutters. There's a change in his body language, like he's offended that Darry was allowed but we weren't. "Not much of a routine when you're in here."

"You know I wouldn't do it without reason." Darry's voice is tight in an effort to remain calm. "Soda asked if I could stay."

Two-Bit scoffs in disbelief, earning a sharp glare from Darry. They engage in a stare-down, one that I know Two-Bit will win the second that Soda moves. Both of them hold their ground, not flinching at the other's anger colliding with their own.

"Get over here," I hiss at Two, seeing the way that my brother's eyes light up with irritation. Steve puts a hand on my shoulder like he can sense that I'm about to run and throw myself between the narrowing gazes, the locking jaws, the tension that makes the room boil. "It doesn't even matter."

"Doesn't it matter to you?" Two-Bit directs the question at me, but he doesn't break Darry's gaze. I'm looking at Darry, and confusion rises in my chest - of course it isn't ideal, but Dar had been the only one in the room. He was the only option that Soda had as far as another body in the room. But why didn't he call for me? Why didn't he fight for me to be there, too?

I try and shake the fog out of my head. It's not his fault. It's not Soda's fault. He was doing what Soda wanted.

"You know it ain't fine, Pone."

"Shut up, Two!" Steve grabs his arm and starts turning him around, but Two-Bit fights himself free. "This isn't what we need right now." I'm surprised at Two-Bit's ferocity. He's never been one to pick a fight unless he feels threatened or if someone threatens us. However, he is one to lay down the line and cause tension should he feel the need to snap, and unfortunately, I guess he's had enough.

I find myself surprised at the fact that Soda asked for him. I find myself angry. And like my anger is steaming from my body, Darry tears his gaze from our brother and focuses on me. His eyes beg me to understand, to side with him in this debate. For a moment, I almost comply; I almost walk over to him and stand at his side, showing Two-Bit that we're a force that he can't break down.

But then my mouth speaks before my mind. "How dare you... How fucking dare you." The air shifts as Steve and Two-Bit realize that the tension has become full-blown anger, and I'm the fuse that has ignited, the fire that has gone to a height none of them can reach.

Darry's eyes narrow in surprise. "It wasn't intentional -"

"Don't make excuses." I cut him off, and by the look on his face, he flinched at my words.

"It's not an excuse, Pony. It's what he wanted."

"You know how much he means to me."

"He's not your only brother," Darry scoffs, not looking as Soda starts to come to. He rises to his feet, his eyes like ice, his voice just as sharp. "And last time I checked, you've been the one to build a wall around the two of you. This is the one time I've been able to be alone with him since he woke up."

"And look where it got you. Where it got him." I start to advance on my oldest brother, but Steve grabs my wrist. Two-Bit's rage has clearly disappeared, because he places himself on the sidelines of our argument. I see Soda tug on Darry's pant leg and my blood boils under my skin. Soda and I have always been the closest out of the three of us.

Darry opens his mouth to throw another barbwire my way, but it's gone when Soda heavily gags. My older brother tries to move onto his stomach before anything else happens, and he manages to get halfway there before something dark soaks into the pillowcase. I'm not entirely sure what's happened, but apparently it's bad because Steve and Two have left their duties and are crowding around him.

I don't even realize that it's blood until the thick, metallic scent comes over me. All three of them are telling Soda to just let it happen, to relax, to let his body do its own thing. Even though I can't see him, I can tell that he's doing everything he can not to give his body what it wants. There's a moment where Two-Bit starts running for the door, but slips in the blood that hides the white tile. My heart lurches as he whisks past me and throws over his shoulder, "get the fuck over there, Ponyboy."

It feels like a thousand and one boobytraps are in my way with each step. I fight back the bile that rises in my throat as I peer down at Soda, taking in the white sheets that have now turned black, the way my brother's lungs crack and shutter with each breath he takes. Darry and I lock eyes, and though the anger still lasts, he pulls me to him so fiercely that I'd never know we were about to fight only a few minutes ago.

Sods turns his head and looks at both of us. Those brown eyes are tormented, fighting between the idea of letting himself drown in his own blood or to stop resisting the urge to throw up more. They're blazing with pain. They're blazing with pain from his own body, his own mind, and even Darry and I. I reach over Darry and put my hand on top of theirs. My eyes water at the way Soda smiles before doubling in on himself and letting a loud groan pierce the air.