(Ponyboy's POV)
I didn't ever want to release my hold on Soda, but at some point, I did. I stepped back so I could get a good look at him. The sling was a surprise to me, but I tried not to stare at it too long. His skin was marked with scars and his hair was shorter than I remembered. There was something else different about him, and it took a few moments to put my finger on it. Even though his eyes were the same shade of brown, they didn't hold the same energy they used to. The blazing fire in his eyes for the excitement of life he used to have had dwindled down to a small flame. I figured war does that to people, and even though I had hoped Vietnam wouldn't change Soda, it seemed like that was an impossible request.
I glanced at Steve to see how he looked, and I was shocked to see that he was using crutches. His right knee had a thick bandage around it and his foot wasn't touching the ground. His skin was marked up just like Soda, and although his facial expression had always been sterner and angrier than Soda's, his eyes looked different than I remembered too.
I looked back at Soda. "Are you okay? What happened to you guys?" I asked quickly. I realized I was still crying, so I vigorously wiped the tears from my eyes. Then I smiled. "I didn't think you'd be home yet."
"I wanted to surprise ya," Soda said with a smile. Then he put a hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I told ya we were got hurt, didn't I?"
"Yeah I knew you were hurt and in the hospital and all, but I didn't expect this," I said, motioning first to Soda's sling, then to Steve. "What happened?"
Soda paused for a moment before replying in a strange tone of voice. "It's a long story, but we're okay."
"Yeah, but the moral of the story is try not to get yourself shot, kid," Steve quipped. I saw Soda give Steve a look of either shock or horror, and Darry gave him a mild glare. For once, even Two-Bit didn't know how to reply.
I turned to look at Steve, and when I saw the small smirk on his face, I immediately started laughing. "I'll do my best," I said in the middle of my laughter. The others looked at me like I was crazy, but I ignored them. After I regained my compsure, I gave him a genuine smile. "I missed you too, Steve. Even if your sense of humor is a little strange."
"You know what… I missed you too, kid." Then Steve eased into a chair next to Two-Bit. "By the way, thanks for all the car pictures. You got good taste."
I felt myself beam. Not only did my brother and Steve come home early, but Steve gave me a compliment almost immediately after returning. "Glad you liked them." Then Soda and I sat down across from Two-Bit and Steve while Darry went to get the chocolate cake. "We have all those pictures if you want 'em back, along with everything else the army sent us. Darry put all of it in Soda's old room." Then I turned to look at Soda. "How many times did you read my theme? The pages are all bent and the notebook is barely holding together."
"Sorry, honey. I didn't mean to ruin it. I read it all the time over there," Soda said with an apologetic tone. "I read it out loud to some of the guys too."
I felt my ears get red. "You don't need to apologize, Soda. It's okay, I'm just surprised is all. I thought you'd read it once or twice." Soda didn't like school, let alone reading for fun.
Soda slung his arm across my shoulders and smiled. "When you've got a talented kid brother like me, you read his stuff as much as possible. Plus, it was the best entertainment in all of 'nam."
Darry put the cake in the middle of the table and sat on the other side of Soda. "You said you wanted chocolate cake, right Steve?"
Steve smiled and dove right in.
We ate, smiled, and laughed for hours. Steve talked the most, while Soda seemed to be happy just being around all of us. It was decided that Steve would sleep on the couch, and Two-Bit, like many times since Soda got his draft notice, was going to spend the night at our house too. He volunteered to sleep on the living room floor "so the war heroes can sleep on proper furniture."
While Two-Bit was helping Steve set up the couch so it was more comfortable for his knee, Soda said he was going to sleep in his old bedroom. He looked at me cautiously. "Are you gonna be okay with that, Pony?"
"Yeah, I'll be alright." I tried to hide my disappointment, but I knew my voice conveyed my true emotions.
Although I had spent most nights by myself when Soda was gone, a part of me was excited for things to return to how they were before, which included sharing the bed with my older brother. I knew it was a childish desire, but I couldn't help but feel better when Soda was near me as I slept. I just wanted to be close to him in general, especially after thinking he was dead for a while.
Soda looked like he wanted to apologize, but Darry spoke up before Soda said anything. "I'll help you get settled while Pony does the dishes. We don't want you hurting your shoulder or ribs."
Ribs? What's wrong with his ribs? What else don't I know about? I wanted to ask what Darry meant by his comment, but he was already leading Soda to his bedroom. I mindlessly washed the dishes, and I didn't realize Darry returned until he spoke.
"It's a tough transition, Pone. We have to give him some space," Darry said gently. "It's not that he doesn't want to spend more time with you, it's just that he needs time to adjust. We don't know what he's been through."
"You know more than I do," I muttered as I rinsed a plate. Then I turned to look at my oldest brother, who looked a little guilty. "What did you mean by not wanting to hurt his ribs?"
Darry sighed and started drying the clean dishes. "He has some busted ribs, but that's all I know. He hasn't told me much either. I think he doesn't want us to worry about him, but I know he went though some traumatic experiences that he doesn't want to talk about."
I turned away from him so he wouldn't see the tears in my eyes. There were people out there that traumatized my brother. Soda, who could get drunk off life and who everyone loved, was battling internal demons because of what happened in Vietnam. That explains the look in his eyes.
I was dragged out of my thoughts by Darry pulling me closer to him. "It'll be okay, little buddy. He's home, and he's safe. We'll make sure he knows that." Once again, I was glad that Darry and I understood each other better than ever before. He knew exactly what I needed in the moment.
I nodded in agreement. Then I wrapped my arms around Darry and let out a noise that was half-sob, half-sigh. He needs to know we're here for him. He's our brother, and we'll help him through everything.
I was woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of footsteps outside my door. With a house full of greasers, I was confident that nobody snuck in to try to rob us or anything, but I was curious who else was awake. I quietly got out of bed, walked through my bedroom door, and once I noticed the bathroom light was on, I tip-toed towards the bathroom.
Someone was standing in the bathroom with their bare back facing me, their shirt on the floor, and they were holding some gauze against their left side, apparently trying to stop something from bleeding. At first, I couldn't recognize the person, but the color of his hair and the sling trapping his right arm gave it away: Soda.
I froze just outside the bathroom doorway, staring at my brother. Most of the scars I spotted weren't there before he left to fight in the war, but upon returning, scars had littered his skin. There were some burns, several jagged and large scars on his left side that were mostly healed, and looking at the rough cuts covering his back made me sick to my stomach. Someone did that to my brother.
Between the cuts, burns, and the bleeding that he was trying to stop, I finally started to understand just how much Soda must have gone through in Vietnam. The problem was, I barely knew anything. All I knew was that Soda and Steve were captured in Vietnam, rescued, and they were in the hospital before returning home. When I asked what happened, Soda said it was a long story, but Steve gave me a hint by joking about trying not to get shot.
"Soda?" I choked out in a whisper. "What's goin' on?"
Soda whipped around, his eyes wide and the bags under them pronounced. He looked like a deer in the headlights of a car. Once he turned around to face me, his shredded and scarred back was out of sight, but I wouldn't ever forget the sight of it. "Pony, what are you doin' up?"
"I heard you walkin' around," I said quietly. I tried to not sound scared or worried for Soda's sake. "What happened? Are you bleeding?"
"It's nothin'," Soda said quickly.
I wasn't exactly angry at Soda, I could never be angry at him, but I was getting upset that he was ignoring my questions. Does he not trust me? Or does he think I can't handle it? "It ain't nothin' Soda." I realized I sounded bitter, but before I could apologize, Darry appeared behind me.
"What's going on?" Darry asked in a harsh whisper. A second passed, and after assessing the scene in front of him, Darry's voice softened. "Are you okay, Soda?"
Soda looked desperate to get out of the situation, but he was stuck in the bathroom with Darry and me blocking his only exit. The look in his eyes reminded me of a trapped animal. "It's nothin'. I had a bad dream and must've moved around because this cut in my side opened up."
"Is that from…" Darry trailed off, apparently deciding not to finish his question. Then Darry addressed me. "Why don't you go on to bed Pony-"
"No," I said sternly. Darry looked confused, and before he could argue with me, I kept talking. "You two have been hiding things from me, but I'm not a kid anymore, I can handle it." Then I looked back to Soda, who was still holding the gauze to his side, looking distressed. "I saw your scars… I know you've been through a lot, and I wanna help, but I can't do that if you keep me in the dark."
Soda's eyes were watering, but tears didn't fall. "I don't wanna worry you, Pony. You're still my kid brother, and there are some things that you're better off not knowin'."
"I'm sixteen. When you were my age, you quit school and worked fulltime to help Darry take care of me." I slowly stepped towards him, just like I would approach a wounded animal. "You've always been there for me, Soda. Please let me return the favor." Then I put a hand on his good shoulder. "We're brothers, Soda… it doesn't matter who's older and who's younger. We have each other's backs."
Soda looked between me and Darry, and with a sob, he collapsed to the ground. My brother, the war hero, finally let his guard down and cried
