The Only Thing Holding Him Back *~* Chapter Four

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this chapter took so long. I've been working on multiple fanfictions. I'd love for you to check them out! This chapter's a bit short and I'm sorry, but I thought it was the proper place to end it. By the way...This issue has not arisen yet but I foresee it coming up--That Darry's narration is too mature for the group. Well, as Ponyboy says in the real The Outsiders novel, Darry is extremely smart and could be a Soc if he wanted to. So with a good education comes good vocabulary. Anywho, here's Chapter Four. Enjoy!
NEW NOTE: Hey. I wanted to thank KillSlay for keeping me posted on some of the stuff I missed. I apologize profusely. I've been a bit wrapped up in some personal problems lately so I've been kind of spacey and I'm so sorry for skipping over those few pages of the book entirely while I was writing this chapter. I guess I just don't know the book as well as you do :-) But here you go, it's fixed, I hope!

*~*

I led Sodapop home that afternoon, enduring the same pain that he was. As I put a hand on his shoulder to help guide him up the steps of our porch, I felt him shaking viciously beneath my touch. He was worried to death for Ponyboy and Johnny. He was just as afraid as I was of something horrible happening. Something that we would not be able to help Pony through, like we always had. He was growing up and didn't need us anymore; this was true. But what if something happened where it was too late for either of us to apologize? To say good-bye?

"C'mon, Soda," I said softly, helping him into his and Ponyboy's bedroom. Soda, shuddering, climbed into bed, seemingly anxious to recover from his lack of sleep the previous night. He was out cold within seconds. I retreated to the kitchen to whip up some lunch for Soda, myself, and the expectedly unexpected guests that would show up within a few moments.
Something still struck me as suspicious, however, as I began to toast some bread. I started turning over Dally's last statement in my mind after checking on Sodapop one last time and discovering that he was still peacefully slumbering. Dallas Winston knew every high-quality hideout in the tri-county area. There was no way he would allow the boys to flee for Texas when there were ensured sanctuaries right around town. It was as though he was trying to throw us off the scent of their true location.
How sad is that, trying to throw us off the scent of our own flesh and blood?
Although...With what I did to Ponyboy last night...I suppose Dally had plenty of reason to assume that Ponyboy would not trust me. I hung my head in shame, grateful that there were no witnessing eyes to my sorrow. I was the leader. The leader was not supposed to shed a tear. He was supposed to stay strong and hold the foundation of the gang together. But there were certain things that even I could not keep a grasp on. My little brother was in extreme danger. Wanted for murder. He was on the run. He could get killed. Or worse...
The door in the living room was hurled open. I hurriedly wiped my eyes and continued the grilled sandwiches as though I had been working feverishly on them all along. I turned to look over my shoulder and saw Two-Bit rushing in, holding a little black phonebook and looking anxious.
"I rang my cous," he explained, breathing heavily as though he had ran the entire way here. He threw his phonebook down onto the table. "He said he didn't hear nothing. I vote we snatch the next train that way and start the search ourselves. We could find 'em faster'n anyone else could."
"Two-Bit," I sighed, handing him a plate with a sandwich. He looked at it, at first, as though food were a foreign concept to him. Then, however, he shrugged and accepted it, grateful for the nourishment he had been neglecting. "We can't go to Texas hunting. We have jobs here to keep up."
Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow from behind his sandwich, sputtering through a mouthful, "Ain't family more important than all that, to you, Darry?"
"Of course it is," I conceded reasonably, setting aside a couple sandwiches for Soda and two more in case Steve came bursting in. "But I don't reckon I believe a word Dally's sayin'."
Two-Bit raised the other eyebrow this time for a bit of variety as he completed his meal and reached out to take another one. "What makes you say that, Dar?"
"You know that Dallas knows a million places to hide out from the fuzz around here," I explained. "He wouldn't send them to Texas."
Two-Bit took this into consideration as he uncovered a Root Beer from the fridge, looking pensive. He located the bottle-opener from the drawer and with a small sucking sound, popped the cap off the bottle and raised it to his lips. Once he had taken a fair sip, he lowered it, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and turned to stare at me once more.
"Yeah. Yeah, I reckon you're right...Dall ain't stupid. We shoulda knowed better than to think he'd rat the boys out." Angrily, he slammed his bottle down on the table so hard that Root Beer sloshed out the top. I didn't bother to reprimand his messiness. I knew he was upset that Dallas would lead us onto false information. It got to me, as well.
There was another knock on the door. Two-Bit and I took a glance at each other. Nobody who ever took the time to visit ever knocked. Thinking the same idea, we both headed into the living room and I took a hold of the handle, revealing our mystery guest. Outside stood three members of the fuzz. Two-Bit and I exchanged fearful glances, but assumed our tough positions, gazing out the screen door.
"Can I help you, officer?" I asked neutrally, keeping my face stone set.
The lead policeman nodded politely, removing his hat and clutching it to his chest. "Yes, Mr. Curtis, I believe you can. We'd just like to ask a few questions about..." He glanced at his notebook and raised a brow. "Uh, I believe there was a spelling error--"
"No, his name is Ponyboy," I corrected. The cop looked confused, but nevertheless nodded.
"All right. Yes, we'd like to ask a few questions regarding--your brother," he decided.
I could feel Two-Bit looking at me. He didn't want to answer any questions the fuzz had to offer. I could feel that his gaze was pleading with me to send them away. But I couldn't. This was only their job. We had to do what we could. Anything to find Ponyboy before something serious happened to him.
"Yes, sir," I offered, stepping back to allow his entrance into the house. Two-Bit began walking backwards, still looking scandalized that the fuzz was within a few feet of him, about to ask him questions about the location of his convicted friends. I motioned to him to take a seat, and was about to sit down myself when the lead cop began to talk once more.
"Are you boys the Curtis brothers?" he inquired, gesturing to myself and Two-Bit. Two-Bit shook his head vigorously, causing the cop to turn to me in curiosity.
"I'm the oldest. Darrel," I explained. I took the cop's hand as he offered it, but released his grip almost immediately. "My other little brother is sleeping. I'm afraid he's had a hard day."
The cop nodded in sympathy but itched his chin in thought. "I'm sorry, Darrel; we need both brothers present. He may return to his sleep once we've talked to you both."
"He's had a hard day," I repeated through gritted teeth. "I don't like to disturb him when he's having a bad day. He needs rest."
The police officer looked regretful, but shook his head. "Standard procedure, I'm afraid, my boy."
I had to hand it to them. They weren't the typical fuzz we normally dealt with. The norm for our encounters were usually following the stereotypes of Socs and Greasers, and tended to side with the upper class. So I nodded slowly, making the decision to comply, and exited the room. Two-Bit looked furious that I was about to leave him with the fuzz, vulnerable to questioning and other such interrogations.
I entered Soda's and Pony's room, knocking gently on the door. To my surprise, Soda turned over abruptly, as though he had only awoken moments before my arrival. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and I lowered my gaze, reminded of when he was only a little kid. Sometimes those days were better. Sometimes...
"Dar?" he asked through a yawn. "What's going on? Who's are those voices?"
"The fuzz is here," I explained. Soda's eyes widened slightly. "To ask some questions about Pony. And I made you some lunch," I added, trying to show that it was a light-hearted visit and that he had nothing to be afraid of.
Soda nodded and yawned once more, peeling back his covers and standing, proceeding to stretch and follow me out the door. I ducked into the kitchen to grab his sandwiches and a few Root Beers, returning to the living room.
"Would you like a drink, officers?" I asked politely, deciding that manners were the best ally we could obtain in this situation. Two politely refused, but one of the quiet ones decided to accept. I set Soda's own in front of him along with his sandwiches, which he looked anxious to ingest.
"We're here to ask a few questions about your brother," the lead cop explained professionally. "We've just spoken with Dallas Winston, who would not tell us a thing." Two-Bit delivered me a knowing look from behind the policemen, which I opted to ignore for the moment. "But we'd like to ask you some questions ourselves."
I took a deep breath; ready to take anything they threw at us.
~*~

A couple days passed. Dally was released from containment once he had "slipped" that the boys were heading for Texas.
Soda had been carefully perfecting his draft of the letter he planned on sending Dally off with to deliver to Ponyboy the next time he saw the boys. Though Dally still insisted that he had no idea where they were, Soda was determined as I was. We were sure, by now, that Texas was a fluke. They were somewhere nearby, and Dally was planning a visit. It was only too obvious. Whenever we discussed the morning in question, he would dismiss it and say he had to visit his dying grandmother. Both Dally's grandmothers were already six feet under, so we knew immediately that something was up.
"Take this to Ponyboy," Soda pleaded hopefully, handing the letter carefully to Dally as though it would fall to pieces if it weren't handled so gingerly.
Dally shook his head, pushing the letter gently away. "Soda, I told y'all, I'unno where they are."
Soda lowered his eyes, pursed his lips, and shoved the letter back towards him. "I know you know, Dally. Stop arguing and take it."
"Soda--"
"Take it."
Dally nodded, somewhat uncomfortably, taking the letter just as gently as Soda, himself, had been handling it, and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket. "I'm tellin' you, Soda, I'unno where they are. But if I see 'em, I'll be sure an' give him your note."
Soda nodded, deciding that this was as an acceptable answer as he would receive, and from then on, backed off Dally and once more locked himself in his room, refusing meals and neglecting rest.
A couple more days passed, still, full of random visits from Steve, Two-Bit, and occasionally a constantly on-guard Dallas. He seemed afraid that we would weasel the proper information out of him. He knew we had the power.
The Socs were beginning to trail us anywhere we went, making it so that we had to travel in groups. Two-Bit even got jumped one day. Luckily Dally and I were not far behind and managed to catch up just in time, though he seemed to be doing fine all on his own. It was beginning to get messy and for the first time in ages, we considered locking our doors at night. Bob's friends were out for blood and since they could not locate Ponyboy and Johnny, they thought they could settle for our blood. Especially mine or Soda's, seeing as we were Pony's brothers. It was becoming ridiculous.
Even Bob's girlfriend, Cherry Valance, appeared at our hangout one day as we were checking to make sure none of Two-Bit's bones were broken after he was jumped by Bob's friends. Her eyes were red and puffy, tears dribbling down her cheeks. Tim Shepherd and some of his lot made attempts to scare her off, even whipped out weapons for defense in case some of her's and Bob's buddies showed up then and there. But she was alone. And she was scared to death. So Two-Bit called everyone off and insisted we let her talk. Through her cries, she managed to choke out that she wanted to be on our side.
"Why?" Steve had asked suspiciously, taking a drag on his cigarrette.
"Bob was a good guy, when he wasn't drunk. I suppose he was asking for it, though...Ponyboy and Johnny were so kind to me that night at the movies when Dally" -- at this comment, she shot a look at Dallas Winston, who was not fazed by her glare -- "was being so crude...I just want to help. I feel like it's my fault, being nice to Pony...I don't want to make matters worse, I'd like to try to make them better, if I can...I'll even testify against Bob in court, if I have to. He was drunk and Ponyboy and Johnny were only defending themselves..."
"I don't think we can trust her," Steve had commented once the conversation had finished and she left. His eyes were narrowed and his guard up as he kept his gaze moving for signs of Socs around the group. "She was Bob's broad, she's a Soc. We don't trust no Soc."
Two-Bit had jumped to her defense. "She ain't bad, Steve. She was mighty nice to us at the movies, too, even with Soc eyes all 'round. Give her a chance, will ya? We might get some valuable info."
And with that, it was settled. Cherry Valance would deliver us the proper information we needed to avoid Socs at all costs and when we had to confront them, what to expect. After she refused Dally's offer to buy her a drink with a very polite way of saying something very vulgar and retreated, there was a far-off look in Dally's eyes that was, to me, indiscernable. Almost as if he...No. Not Dallas Winston.
Then, the aforementioned morning arose, and Dally took off for his "grandmother," leaving us sitting alone at the house. Steve was pretending to be absorbed in a television program, while Two-Bit and I just sat on the couch, deep in thought and twisting our pop bottles in our hands for something to keep occupied. Soda was still in his room. He hadn't attended work in two days, and Steve said they were considering firing him. That worried me. Soda had dropped out of school to maintain a job to contribute to the family. It would all be in vain if he ended up being fired.
"Guess if Dally's lyin', this'll be the day, huh?" Two-Bit said softly, keeping his eyes trained on the soda in his hands.
I nodded vaguely, my mind traveling distantly, hardly hearing Two-Bit's sentence. "Yeah. I suppose we will." I looked out the window hopefully, taking a deep breath and releasing it once more. "Hold on, Pony."
TO BE CONTINUED...

A/N: Review with your comments, questions, or concerns!