Holy cow, people like this story a lot.
xxx
"Where is Pony?" Darry hollered at Soda when he came in. He was pacing back and forth wildly, and Soda could see the pain and regret that covered his face.
"He was at the gas station with Steve," Soda answered. "He wasn't ready to come home yet. Darry, you promised. Why'd you hit him?"
Darry sighed. "I don't know Sodapop. It just—he never listens to me. All he ever does is push me away. Sometimes I feel like he doesn't even love me."
Soda stared at him. He saw his older brother—cold, alone, hurt.
"Don't say that," he whispered. "Pony does love you."
"Well he sure doesn't act like it," Darry retorted, his voice level raising. Then, "I'm sorry Soda, I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm just so afraid—I have to work so hard, because I want to keep you guys so bad—but, he never listens to me. He just shoves me off, and it really hurts, Soda. He loves you so much more than he cares about me. And I just—I don't know—I just want him to come home to me for once." His voice cracked in pain.
Soda hugged his older brother, saying the words that he had to his little brother that same day, "Pony loves you, Darry. He loves you more than you'll ever know."
xxx
"Mom, I'm going out, ok?" Bryon Douglass (from That Was Then, This Is Now by S.E. Hinton; doesn't particularly like the Curtis family that much; thinks they're stuck-up and good-looking) asked.
"Sure Bryon," his mother replied, looking worriedly at her son. He hadn't been the same since what had happened with Mark, about one year ago. No one had.
Bryon was heading out, down the block, trying not to think of who had used to be his best friend. Walking past a vacant lot on his way to M&M's (boy who's a bit of a hippie) house he saw a navy sweater with sleeves cut off on the ground. Shrugging, he picked it up—M&M would probably like it—and started heading off, but he stopped. Moving back to the lot, he saw something that looked like oil on the ground—it was sort of hard to see, because it was already dark—and he bent down. It was blood. The smell sickened him, and he looked around to see if there was anyone there.
Bryon didn't see anything, but he nervously headed inside the fenced area to make sure.
"Anyone here?" he yelped.
There was silence.
"Anyone?" he said again, a bit more quietly this time.
He strained his ears for an answer.
He heard a slight moan, and turned around.
xxx
Ponyboy was hurt. He hurt more than he knew someone could ever hurt. His arm was snapped, along with a couple of ribs, and also his leg. His face was bruised and bloody, along with his torso and legs. Blood slipped from everywhere, and when he coughed, blood came out too.
He almost wished he was unconscious again.
He heard a voice. "Anyone here?"
Pony tried to make a sound, but nothing came out.
"Anyone?"
This was his one last chance, he decided, and tried to sit up. Pain shot through his sides, and he moaned.
It saved his life.
xxx
About three hours had passed, and Pony still wasn't home. Darry wanted to go out and look for him, but Soda told him to give their brother a little more time.
"Pony takes a while to get over things," he reassured his stressed brother.
Darry sat down on a couch, and tried to occupy himself by watching TV, but his thoughts kept on straying to his baby brother and what was happening. Soda, a little less concerned, curled up on the couch, put his head in Darry's lap, and fell asleep pretty quickly.
Darry stared down at his brother. Why was it that he could never get mad at Soda?
Soda was different, he guessed. He was always so happy, and you could never get mad at someone who was like that. Even if you hollered at him, he just kept on smiling, and hiding the hurt. But you'd know that you'd hurt him, and you never wanted to do it again.
But if someone really hurt him, he didn't want to hide it. Soda just let it all out. He was still a kid in that way—he cried a lot. He cried more than Pony, and definitely more than Darry.
He was someone you could lean on. He was support. He was… well, he just was Soda. Darry didn't know how else to put it.
And Pony? Pony… sometimes—Pony was oversensitive. Everything hurt him. And he let you know it. He wouldn't always cry, but the look he gave you in those greenish-gray eyes let you know it. And you never wanted to hurt him, but he just made you mad so easily.
Darry. Darry tried to analyze himself. Things hurt him—he knew that from experiences with Ponyboy—but, Darry always hid it. He looked at people with his eyes that always seemed so cold—those green-blue eyes of ice, as Pony described it. And only his brothers could tell when something was really bugging him.
I hope Pony comes home soon, he thought, and felt a tear fall from his eye. He wiped it off.
I never cry. I have to stay tough. I have to show my brothers how to survive. Or else they'll never make it.
xxx
"Who's there?" Bryon yelled.
He turned wildly around, and saw a shape on the ground.
"Who are you?"
The figure raised a hand and let out a moan of pain. "P-ponyboy Curtis."
"Yeah sure," Bryon said, sneering.
"B-bryon? That you?"
Bryon gaped, and bent closer. "Curtis? That you?"
He'd never really liked the Curtis brothers, especially Ponyboy. Ponyboy was the guy that Angela had dumped him for, and who had gone out with Cathy, but he'd gotten over it, and started to maybe even like Pony. It was just that the guy was so good-looking with his reddish-brownish hair, and those green-grey eyes. The oldest brother was pretty handsome too, with his sturdy frame, and dark hair. He was a great football player too—Bryon had played on the team with him for about one week (he didn't like authority, so he'd quit pretty soon), seeing that he himself was pretty large to, with a St. Bernard puppy look. Bryon didn't remember his name, though. Or the other one's for that matter, who was definitely the best-looking, at seventeen now. He had the long, blonde hair, and those thoughtful blue eyes, and that great smile.
That was the thing that had bugged Bryon so much. That guy was always smiling, like he had no worries in the world—everybody liked him. Bryon didn't want to like him, so he'd just stayed away from that guy. He was jealous of that guy, he could tell.
Sure, that guy had his share of own problems, but Bryon ignored them. Just those Curtis brothers were so cocky—it wasn't their fault they were so good-looking—but the bunch just bugged him.
The kid on the ground whimpered, and Bryon was brought back to reality.
"Curtis, what happened to you kid?"
Pony coughed weakly, and Bryon smelled blood. He couldn't really tell the kid's condition from here, but he knew that it was bad.
"I got beat up," he said, coughing up more blood.
"Kid, don't talk," Bryon ordered.
Pony groaned, and whimpered.
"Kid, I'll be right back, ok?"
"Don't leave me," Pony gasped.
"I have to go get a car, and I have to go get your brothers. You wait here, ok? You live on Killo Circle, right?"
"Yes," came a faint reply. "Tell Darry I'm sorry, ok? Tell him—I love him, please?"
"Sure Curtis," Bryon said worriedly. "I won't be gone for too long, ok?"
But Pony didn't hear him. He was already lost in delirium, begging for 'Soda', 'Darry', 'Mom', 'Johnny', and 'Dad'.
Bryon shook off his concerns about leaving the kid there; there was nothing else he could do, right?
He ran as fast as he could—he knew where the Curtis guys lived because Mark had dragged him there before. Don't think about Mark, he commanded himself.
He neared up to the house, a sort of shack with a porch. He ran up and knocked hard on the door, even though it was open, stopping to catch his breath.
xxx
Darry heard a knock on the door, and prepared himself not to yell at Pony. Soda, sleepily rubbed his eyes, and sat up.
Darry went and opened the door. It wasn't Pony though.
It was a kid that looked sort of familiar, but Darry couldn't place where he'd seen him before.
The teen collapsed, wheezing slightly, and Darry stepped back.
"WHO ARE YOU?" he yelled.
"Bryon Douglass," the teen replied. "You're the Curtis boys, right?"
"Yeah," said Soda, wide awake now. "What do you want?"
The teen looked as if he was searching for a name. Then he got it. "Darry, you're Darry right?"
Darry looked at him like he was crazy.
"I'm Bryon, remember? I was on the football team."
A slight look of recognition flashed over Darry's face, and he nodded.
"You're that kid—Pony's friend's brother. That kid—Mark, right? What do you need?"
Bryon ignored him. "And you're—who are you?" he said, indicating Soda.
"Sodapop," Soda told him.
"What do you need?" Darry demanded.
Bryon looked at him for a while, blank, and then gasped. "Ponyboy. He's hurt. Really bad, in the vacant lot near the drugstore."
Darry roared, and lunged at Bryon. "What did you do to him?"
"DARRY!" Soda yelled, pulling his brother off the crumpled boy on the floor.
Then he pulled Bryon up. "Where's my brother? WHERE IS HE?"
"I already told you," Bryon said, "but we need to get over there. Now. He's bad, really bad."
Darry looked at him suspiciously. "What if you're lying?"
"I'm not," Bryon told them, taking a navy sweater with the sleeves cut off and handing it to Soda. "This familiar?"
Soda looked at the sweater and gripped it until his knuckles turned white. "Pony."
"Well let's go!" Bryon yelled.
Darry seemed to wake up from his daze. Grabbing both Bryon and Soda, he pulled them towards the door. He opened his car door and shoved them all inside.
Driving like a madman, he reached the vacant lot.
"PONY! WHERE IS HE?" he screamed at Bryon, who seemed a bit intimidated by his size.
Bryon ran in, and Soda and Darry followed.
"Here," he stated, pointing.
"Ponyboy, Pony," Darry said, a choking sound in his voice, a helpless look on his face. "Pony…"
Soda crumpled to the ground. "Pony?"
Pony whimpered quietly. "Soda? D-darry?"
Soda reached out and held him, against his chest, sobbing into Pony's hair. "Pony, Pony, Pony, Pony, Pony. Who did this to you? Why?"
Darry turned on Bryon. "Call an ambulance, would you? Please?"
Bryon nodded and headed off.
"Pony, Pony, Pony," Darry said, collapsing, and holding his brother's head. "Don't give up on me, Pony. I can't lose you. I can't lose you. I can't…" his voice broke off. "I'm so sorry," he said, tears choking him. "Please…"
Pony didn't hear him. Pony was unconscious.
"The last thing he heard was me telling him to get lost," said a tearful Darry to Soda. "He has to be ok, he's going to be ok, right?"
"He's going to be ok," Soda said, determinedly. "Pony's a tough kid, Darry. He won't die on us now."
Darry's face crumpled up, and Soda gave a choked sob. He hugged his brother, and they rocked each other, each crying hysterically. If Pony didn't make it, neither of them could live.
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