Hi everybody! Here's a new chapter (finally, I know, I know…)
I'd like to start off by thanking every one of you wonderful people who took the time to review, especially the last few (you guys really got my lazy butt writing!)
I would love to respond to each and every single one of you but I'm afraid I don't have the time.
Luna: Thanks for your review! I know- lots of people have complained to me about the social worker thing, and I know that I have perhaps been unfair toward social workers. But remember: although many social workers are of course, amazing people, there could always be a black sheep. Just because I'm demonizing on of them does not mean that I am applying this definition to all the social workers in the world.
Varinia: pushes you back into your seat teehee!
sparklegoose: cute penname! And aww, don't cry! I promise everything will work out in the end! hugs
Tsunamina: Haha, thanks for this line: "Also...Sodapop, as protective as he is of Ponyboy, would never call him honey. It sounds...really gay." That really made my day- it was hilarious! I never thought of it that way- when I wrote it I was going for the whole 'brotherly love' thing… but anyway, I tried to decrease the pet names in this chapter! And about the social worker thing, yes, I do admit that it is rather unrealistic, and I can also say that I was too eager to start writing this particular fic to completely think things through, but this IS fanfiction. The excuse "it wouldn't happen in everyday life" doesn't apply here.
CountingSheep123: omigosh! I'm sorry- I didn't know your mum was a social worker. But still (refer to Tsunamina's comment) I don't mean to generalize social workers as a while. The social workers here may be unreasonable and unkind, but I am in no way saying that all of them are that way. I'm sure your mother is an awesome social worker :o)
Rons-Frekles: Thanks for reviewing! I have a huge crush on Pony as well! And Soda and Darry and Two-bit and… gah, I'll stop now. teehee
Hobbity: AAAHH! I heart hobbits! big, bonecrushing hug thanks for reviewing, and don't cry! hands out Frodo-print tissue
klblue19: Thanks for waiting for me to update! I hope this chapter is worth it :o) (ps. Go Coke! I hate Pepsi).
Celtic Angel 18: lol, I hope I don't embarrass myself again either, but knowing me, the next silly situation is on its way! Thanks for your review.
Sweet-single: haha. I completely agree with the Kevin-revenge! And don't worry- revenge is on its way!
Koala: I'm so glad you found my story! Thanks for saying those nice things about it too :o)
Miz-jif: I completely agree with you on the Darry thing. And don't worry- Pony WILL soon realize that Dar's a good guy!
Keira (Hairibo): Thank you soo much for the compliments- you really made my day.
Pony's Girl: Thanks for reviewing, but I think Pony would murder you for your suggestion of him going to hospital AGAIN, hehe. Poor guy.
AnAuthorFormerlyKnownACrazeLilDreamer: wow, hehe. That really is a 'long, Prince-like name'! teehee joins in the careful hug
Misty: thanks for the tip- I took out the 'not updated' part to the summary!
Gemma: haha. Please don't kill meee! I myself cannot believe the amount of time it took me to update… but hey! It's updated so you can't complain sticks out tongue
Ponysgirl2: yupyup! I'm too sadistic… ah well.
Rao: Aaahh… I wish I were Soda's li'l sis too… but hey, I'd rather be his girlfriend :o)
Lillia E: Thank you SOOO much for the detailed review! And thanks for being so nice :o)
AbbieE, EastSide, Baby, Drea, goth-junkie, Cherry0214, lin3, grease girl, K.E.M, rosa, Serena, BloodMistress, al, Amara, Sodapop02, Raine, Wanda, Annataremrys, cuulcure, pie, Ami, Joce, Two-BitGortez, Morgan, Anon, Trine, Lisa, and David.
I'm sorry if I missed anybody out by mistake. I'm pressed for time but I just wanted to get a chapter out before I go to sleep tonight. If I did miss out anybody, please know that I did read and thoroughly appreciate your review.
Lastly, I'm really, really sorry about the inexcusable lateness of this chapter. I'm doing crew as a sport this term and it is seriously eating up my LIFE!
All rightey. Enough chatting and on with the story!
Chapter 20
Darry's POV:
The days blurred into weeks that went by until one month had passed since Ponyboy's return home. Although the days were quiet and mostly uneventful, we all knew that the storm had not yet passed. The battle with the state for custody over Ponyboy was far from over. Sooner or later, the state would come to call, demanding Pony's return to Murray, back into the clutches of that monster by the name of Kevin Skinner. It was a constant weight on everybody's mind, but nobody voiced this dread, not amongst themselves, and definitely not when Ponyboy was within hearing range.
A sigh escaped me as my thoughts strayed toward my youngest brother. They say that time heals all wounds, but I had the feeling that however many years passed, those wounds inflicted on Ponyboy in Murray would remain as long, jagged scars marring the innocence he once possessed. Although the physical damage was mending slowly, he was still a wreck emotionally. I remember it was about this time last week when Steve, edgy because of the way everybody was tiptoeing around the house, accidentally dropped an empty beer bottle on the floor. The resulting crash resounded throughout the house, and half an hour later, we found an inconsolable Ponyboy cowering under the bed in a fetal position, his hands wrapped protectively over his head as if expecting a harsh blow at any second. He was lost in his own terror-filled world, eyes staring at something only he could see and unresponsive to anybody but Sodapop's voice. He clung to Soda, even more than he used to. At first, he refused to enter any rooms alone without Soda, following him around like a lost puppy. It was taking a toll on all of us, especially Soda. I could see how this was tearing him apart, being so helpless. It was eating my up inside as well, not only the helplessness of the situation, but the fact that I could have prevented all this misery and suffering.
I tried not to dwell on these thoughts; I knew that if I allowed them to, they could consume me whole. Instead, I busied myself with household chores, emptying my mind with the monotonous task of sweeping the floor or emptying out the dishwasher. However, I could not always hold the guilt at bay.
The dishcloth tumbled soundlessly out of my grasp and onto the ground and I sank down to the floor with it, holding my head in my hands, trying desperately to force out the invading, guilt-filled thoughts. After a moment's struggle, I gave up, allowing them in to wreak havoc on my mind. It was my fault, all of this. If only I had been stronger. If only I had been more responsible. If only…
I had let everybody down. I had failed abysmally, and everyone else was taking the punishment for my failure. I deserved it, this shame that was eating me up from inside. I deserved Ponyboy's disgust; why should he want to acknowledge me, the irresponsible, careless, heartless older brother who sent him into the devil's lair with nothing but a suitcase full of clothes?
My body was wracked with unwilling sobs as my mind was filled with hazy red images of what had happened to Ponyboy in Murray, conjured up by my wild imagination. I was unused to crying; I had never felt inclined toward tears, and could always hold them at bay, even at our parent's funeral, when I willed myself to stay strong for my younger brothers. I had no idea why I was being so goddamned weak. My chest heaved as dry, choked sobs escaped from my lips, each more painful than the last because of how hard I was fighting against them. I felt so helpless… Ponyboy refused to let me in; he hated me, and had every right to do so. The overwhelming fear of my youngest brother being once again snatched away from my protection and placed under the claws of that… that monster consumed me, and for a moment I struggled to breathe, as if I had finally given up swimming and had been pulled underneath the crashing waves of guilt, fear, and dread.
BRRRIIIiiiinnnnngggg
I jumped as the sudden shrill ring of the telephone sounded, jolting me rudely out of my horror-stricken reverie. My hand still shaking slightly, I reached over, picking up the receiver.
"Hello?"
My breath caught in my throat as the man on the other line introduced himself, and for a second I was once again overwhelmed with my previous terror. Forcing my body to breathe in and out slowly, I steeled myself for the inevitable war.
SODAPOP'S POV:
I sat on the edge of the bed quietly, feeling a surge of protectiveness as I watched my younger brother sleep. He was curled up around a pillow, the bedclothes tangled up around him and pulled up over his eyes. The result was a vaguely Ponyboy-shaped lump with tufts of unruly auburn hair poking out at disarray from the top of the blanket. I reached over to push down the blanket again, afraid that he would suffocate himself, but at the slight disturbance he mumbled incoherently, burrowing his head deeper into the darkness beneath his pillow. He flinched as my fingers brushed past his shoulder and immediately I pulled away, trying my best not to feel hurt. The strong rays of the early afternoon sun filtered through the half-shut blinds warming my back and reminding me once again that it was way past time to wake Ponyboy up and attempt to get him to eat something. I paused in indecision as I gazed at his sleeping form. He had gotten almost no sleep lately; after his first week of constant nightmares, I'm sure he felt guilty about waking Darry and me up in the middle of each night. He began to fake sleep, closing his eyes, evening out his breathing, and straightening out his features in an expression of placidity. He probably figured that the cure for his nighttime terrors was to simply not sleep at all. He was getting to be quite a good actor at it too. If I didn't know him as well as an older brother should, I would have been misled completely. I knew how Ponyboy whimpered in his sleep, how his blunt nails almost drew blood as they dug into his soft palms because of how hard he clenched his fists when he held them protectively over his head as he whispered terrified pleas to phantom monsters who strove to destroy him. I knew because it was I who lay awake next to him as he tossed and turned beside me, begging for release from their clutches.
Much as I wished for that peaceful sleep so realistically imitated by Pony, I knew in my heart that it would be a long time coming. Much as I hated to admit it, Pony needed to confront his fears and master them. Then the nightmares would recede back into the darkness where they came from. All this skirting around and pretending nothing had happened to him in Murray was doing him no good at all.
Darry had no idea, of course. Not that he was being irresponsible or uncaring. If anything, I'd say he cared too much. I wasn't going to add to his load by speaking to him about Ponyboy's recent sleeping habits. Darry was far too racked up with his own internal turmoil and guilt. I knew he thought that everything was his fault. and nothing I said to him could ease his pain or change his mind. As I sat there, torn between the choice of waking Pony up to eat or letting him sleep for a while longer, the phone in the living room erupted with noise, breaking through the heavy silence of the house and making me jump in surprise. I recovered to find a pair of confused hazel eyes staring back at me.
DARRY'S POV:
I paced as far as the telephone cord would allow, feeling like an angry dog on a leash.
"What do you mean, 'in one week'?" I demanded. "How can you give us such short notice and expect us to be ready?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Curtis," came the irritatingly calm voice. "The courtroom is exceptionally busy at this time and the time we offered you next week is one of the only free slots. Unless, of course, you see no need for a trial. In that case, your youngest brother can simply go straight back to Murray."
I let out a frustrated breath, knowing that there was no reasoning with this man, this heartless man who did not care that my brother was still too emotionally traumatized for the mere idea of having a trial in one week.
"Fine," I surrendered unwillingly. "In one week."
"Then that's settled," the man sounded almost relieved. "Oh, and one last thing."
"Yes?"
"Ponyboy must attend the trial."
"Wha… what?" I managed to get out. Quickly pulling myself together, I finished off slightly more eloquently, "Surely you can't expect him to face that… that bastard ever again!"
The man was speaking again, but I could barely hear him through the brain numbing shock. I knew the state probably didn't believe us about Kevin. Nor did they care about us very much. But I never thought they could possess the cruelty to force a fourteen year old, vulnerable child to face a man in trial who had physically and mentally abused him over such a long period of time.
As I fumbled for words that could penetrate this man's tough shell, I heard the soft footsteps behind me and turned around.
Ponyboy was standing alone in the middle of the living room, a surprise in itself; it was the first time I had seen him go anywhere without Soda. I let my arm drop back down to my side, suddenly indifferent to the phone receiver in my hand, which was vibrating slightly as the man continued talking, oblivious to the fact that nobody was listening anymore.
I studied him as he stood there, wearing an old shirt of Soda's that just about swallowed up his small frame. The tangerine sunlight reflected off the reddish-gold strands in his tousled hair, making him seem for that instant almost as if his head were on fire. I felt something in my heart twist painfully at the way he was staring at me wide-eyed, like a deer caught in the headlights. I froze, afraid to move in case he would suddenly bolt off. The room grew almost painfully silent, and the only sounds were the soft inhale exhale… inhale exhale… from both of us.
Then, as I watched, something changed in my youngest brother's eyes. It was so slight that I would not have noticed it if my senses had not been so alert at that moment. I couldn't explain it, but all of a sudden I saw a trace of the iron resolve he had once possessed. It was the determination and willpower that had kept him running on the track with everything he had, even when he was exhausted to the point of collapse. It was the courage and grit that had made him climb through a broken window and into a burning church to save those helpless children. It was the strength and resilience that had aided him well with past handling with the Socs. It was a combination of all the qualities that Ponyboy once unconsciously possessed and so naturally wielded that had made him so uniquely Ponyboy. I long ago resigned myself to the fact that he had lost those qualities somewhere along the way to Murray. I almost forgot to breathe for that instant, afraid that I would somehow break the magic spell.
Ponyboy was the first to move. Taking a slightly shaky step forward, he took a deep breath.
"I will take the Ring to Mordor… although I do not know the way."
LOL just kidding.
"I… I can attend the hearing, Dar."
The words started off quietly, wavering slightly, but grew stronger as he went on. He looked me in the eye, as if daring me to suggest otherwise.
It was the longest sentence I had heard him speak, and the first time he had addressed me directly. Once again, I fumbled for words, but my mind was completely blank, apparently too stunned by so many surprises in such a short time that it refused to respond. Finally, I lifted the phone receiver back up to my ear, the simple action seeming to require a ridiculous amount of energy.
"Yes," I finally managed. "We'll be there."
Whoa I'm sure there is a wealth of obvious and annoying grammar mistakes throughout that little vignette, but it's getting late and I have an unnecessarily long English assignment (my teacher obviously seems to think she needs to live up to my school's reputation for having the highest suicide rate because of excessive amounts of stress…)
Gah, ignore me, I'm just venting.
Anyway, feel free to point out any sentences that don't make sense or things that are just… bad… in this chapter. Just please, review! I'd love any kind of feedback, even if it's a flame. (Although compliments are always nice as well!)