I changed it a little due to a lot of reviews complaining about one part. Don't worry, I wasn't offended, I just think that it'd be better to just cut it out. Thanks!

I woke up to find Darry laying in bed beside me. I smiled at the sight of him. Even Darry looked younger when he was asleep.

I remembered I had had a nightmare the night before. Darry had been in it. I wondered if he had heard me and came in to check on me. I was comforted by the thought.

How could Darry not see how great of a brother he was? It seemed like everything he did, he did for me. Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure I'm right. Darry cares more than anyone cares. All that time I was grieving because I lost my parents, the people who cared about me the most. And I never realized that I had someone else who cared about me, besides Soda. Darry.

I watched the Darry sleep, for once relaxed. It was about time he got some sleep. He'd been working so hard lately. I felt bad, because I knew that he had to since I got in the hospital. I didn't mean to. I hope he knew that.

I looked at Darry's face, trying to find some similarity between the two of us. No had ever said that I looked like Darry; they only said I looked like Soda. But looking closely at Darry, I saw a few similarities.

We both had the same stubborn set to our jaw. Our hair was a similar color, but Darry's was a shade darker, more brown than red. Darry looked more and more like Dad every year, though. Sometimes I forgot that he was my brother instead of my dad. A hint of stubble was visible on Darry's jaw. I had finally needed to shave, though I had done it even when I didn't have any facial hair.

I quietly got out of bed, so I wouldn't disturb Darry. He needed to sleep in. It was only eight in the morning, and he was off today.

I thought about making breakfast, but I figured Darry would get mad at me being so active. I was still on bed rest for another week. I didn't want to have to make it longer.

So I slowly made my way to the couch. I sat down and picked up a book I had left the night before. I read my book in silence, and soon I heard Darry stir.

"Pony?" I heard him say.

"I'm in the living room." Darry probably wasn't used to me being up before him. But he was still being paranoid over nothing. I knew he thought something happened to me.

I heard him quietly sigh and then he got up out of bed.

"You're up early." He said as he walked down the hall.

"Yeah. I slept good for once." I said.

"You hadn't before?"

"No." That was all the information I was giving him. Apparently he realized it.

"You want some breakfast?"

"Sure."

"Got anything in mind?"

"Whatever you fix." I like everything Darry makes. I used to be a picky eater, but not anymore. I guess that's another thing Darry and I have in common.

I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. I looked up and saw Darry was making blueberry pancakes. Mm, my favorite.

Soon Darry was flipping the pancakes and serving me a plate full. He joined me soon after and we sat there eating our pancakes.

"Thanks." I said as I got up from the table, after I ate three of Darry's famously thick pancakes.

"You're welcome. Sure you don't want anymore?"

"No. I'm stuffed." I smiled at Darry and he smiled back, but it seemed hesitant.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"Pony. . .what did you mean earlier? About not sleeping?"

"I've been having those nightmares again." I said simply.

"Why haven't you told me?" Darry's voice was stern, but there was a tone of concern there, too.

"It would just be one more thing for you to worry about." It was true. Darry would worry no matter what.

"I know, but it's my job to worry. You need someone to worry about you." His voice was quiet at the end.

"And who worries about you, Darry?"

He was silent for a minute.

"No one needs to worry about me. I take care of myself."

"Then I'll worry about you."

"Ha, that's the last thing you need. Worrying about me will give you an ulcer. Your stomach's already bothering you. You don't need anything else bothering you."

"Hell, you haven't gotten an ulcer yet and you do ten times more worrying than I do!" I argued.

"But you don't deserve a life like that. You-"

"And you do!"

He sighed, trying to remain in control.

"Pony, you're young. You're going to become some one important and leave this little town. And that's what you deserve."

I took a step toward Darry, touching his shoulder. "If I can become someone important, why can't you?"

He smiled sadly at me. "I'm not cut out for it. I'm only good for my muscles, anyway. All brawn and no brain, right?"

I hated the sarcasm in his voice, but what I hated worse was the underlining of truth. Did he really think he wasn't good for his brain?

"Darry, listen to me-"

"No, you listen! You grow up and become someone important! You deserve more from life than a dead-end job. Go to college! Fall in love! Don't do what I did, Pony. You have no one holding you back but yourself. Don't do it. Let yourself go." I was surprised at the passion and anger in Darry's voice.

We stood in silence for a few minutes. My side began to throb again, but I ignored it.

I broke the silence.

"Did. . . did I hold you back, Darry?" I said in a quiet voice.

Darry looked at me quickly.

"Ponyboy Michael Curtis, don't you dare think that. I held myself back. Not you, not Soda, not anyone else. Me!"

I started to feel sick again. I suddenly held my side and Darry looked at me with concern. I groaned from the pain.

"Pony, are you all right!" He asked.

"No."

If Darry hadn't been there, I would have fallen on my face. I suddenly pitched forward, and Darry grabbed me around the waist.

Darry helped me get to the couch and I slumped down on it. He lifted my shirt, trying to see any external damage, but there was none.

"Where does it hurt?" He asked, as though he were a doctor.

"Where I was shot." I said, trying to keep the "that was a stupid question" out of my voice.

"Let's go to the hospital." Darry said, and he bent over to pick me up.

"No, Darry." I said, thrusting my arm out to stop him from picking me up. "I'm fine. I was just standing up for too long. Let me rest a while, and I'll be fine. This has happened before."

"Before! Damn it, Pony, are you asking to die?" He sounded outraged.

"No, Darry. Don't think that way. The doctor told me if I didn't take it easy, I'd be hurting. It's normal. The first time it happened, you weren't home and so I called the hospital to make sure nothing was wrong. It's normal, Darry. Stop worrying."

"Stop worrying! I'll stop worrying when you start telling me these things. Give me a heart attack, why don't you?"

He finally sat down. He was starting to scare me because he was getting so jumpy.

"What is this all about, Darry? What's wrong? Why are you so touchy today? It's not even ten o'clock, yet."

Darry took a few breaths, trying to calm himself down.

"I just want to know you're safe. If you don't open up to me, I can't know what's going on in your life. Please, Pony. Let me in. I thought we had worked this all out." His voice was gentler now.

I looked into Darry's ice-colored eyes and watched them turn warmer. Darry's eyes turned pleading; he was wanting so badly for me to let him in. How could I not let him in when he was looking so miserable?

"I'm sorry, Darry. It's not that I don't want to. It's just that I don't want you worrying any more than you have to, you know? I will, if you promise not to worry."

He took another deep breath and then he spoke. "Okay. But you have to let me worry some. I'll go crazy if I don't get to worry." He smiled at me and I felt better just from seeing it.

I was going to sit up, but it hurt too much. When I tried it again, Darry put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down gently.

"Just stay down, Pony." He said.

"Okay." I took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

Darry's POV

I watched Pony's face. I could see the pain there, but looking closer, I saw the same dark circles that had been under his eyes when our parents died. He hadn't been sleeping well lately. How come I hadn't noticed?

Pony took a deep breath and then, he opened up to me.

"Darry. . . I had a nightmare last night."

When he didn't continue, I spoke.

"I know. I heard you tossing in your room. I saw you reaching out for someone. I figured it was Soda."

"It wasn't, Darry. It was you." He was silent, as though he was still having a hard time opening up.

"Go on." I probed gently.

"I remembered the nightmare this time. It was horrible. I saw Mom hanging from a cliff. I ran to save her, and when I had almost pulled her up. . .she fell to her death. I watched the same thing happen to Dad, Johnny, and Dallas. And then there was you.

I knew I couldn't lose you, Darry. I couldn't let you fall. You were the last one. And when you looked me in the eye, I saw fear in your eyes. I pulled and tugged, trying to get you to the top. And just when you were halfway on solid ground. . .you slipped from my grasp. But this time I fought. I lurched forward, trying to catch you. My hands were thrashing about as I grabbed for you, and then. . .The last thing I remember is that I had grabbed you around the arm. . . I hadn't lost you, too."

He looked up at me when he finished his last sentence. Fear showed plainly in his eyes. But I also saw the pain, pain he must have felt from watching those he loved fall over the cliff. What did it mean?

Pony reached out and grabbed hold of my arm. He squeezed it tightly. He buried his face in my sleeve. Ponyboy was afraid of losing me.

"You'll never lose me, Pony. Never."

I took my hurt and frightened brother in my arms, trying to reassure him that I was right there.

And I always would be.