there's a hand shaking his shoulder, insistently. he lets out a groan, rolls over and mutters something that he means to be not now.

the hand at his shoulder shakes him more insistently than before, sandy's voice tired, "soda, it's for you."

years of having to get up to tend to children, to have to make sure nothing was going wrong makes soda finally crack his eyes open blearily, makes him sit up with more attention than before. sandy's blinking at him, sleepy too, her blonde hair in a big puff, and the phone cradled with her. he still can't quite get over the cordlessness of it, grasping it with some unfamiliarity, "hello? who's calling?"

"soda, i need you to get here, soon as you can," darry's voice over the line is sharp as usual, yet there's something on the edge of it that makes something in soda feel something was very, very wrong. "i know it's late, but this can't wait."

"you can't say it now?" soda pushes the covers away, shooting sandy a confused look. she wouldn't know what it is, either. she's never been one to be involved much in the family business like this and darry wasn't always forthcoming with whatever was going on. "it's late, darry—"

"just get here, soda, please," and darry never, ever says please. a feeling of unease settles in soda.

"alright, i'll be there," soda pulls the phone away, presses the hang up button with a sense of bewilderment. he rubs at his hair, squinting as sandy reaches over, turns the lamp light on. the light floods the room, showing off the pastel pinks and yellows, making her hair look even blonder, and soda looks at her with confusion. "he just needs me to come over. won't say what for."

"at two am, it better be good," sandy yawns, rubbing at her eyes. "want me to make you coffee before you go, baby?"

"no," he shifts, kisses her on the corner of her mouth. she hums, her scent nice, calming in their room. he can see a bit of a drool spot on her neck, almost trailing down to her breasts and chuckles. "i'll check on the kids before i go. just get back to sleep."

sandy yawns again, running her fingers through his hair, her acrylic nails scritching at the spot behind his ear. "alright, baby. see you." when he pulls away, she flops back onto the bed, pulling the covers up over her bare shoulders. soda puts the phone back on the cradle, turns off the lamp and relieves himself first thing.

once he's done, it's a bit of a journey to get out the house from having a quick shave to finding some clothes to yank on. he gets half distracted, checking in on kelly and the twins in turn. kelly's drooling same as him on her own pillow, her red hair turned almost black in her bedroom. benny and jet are both in the same bed again and sodapop doesn't even bother to separate them when they'd just climb back in again. he just kisses their foreheads, almost trips over their toys, and then checks on everything else in the house.

he knows he should go ahead and get going — still, he makes sure the dogs are where they're supposed to be, checks on the new alarms they got installed, fishes his keys out of the bowl and hops into the car.

the headlights illuminate the road, and it doesn't take more than ten minutes to get to darry's house. he'd stayed in their parents place since he was the one running things, while soda had moved out a little bit away. still close enough for things like this, and soda whistles as he climbs out the car.

he wants to cheer himself up, wants to think that this is a good thing, whatever it is. there's a feeling in his gut that's uncomfortable as he gets to the front steps, ringing the doorbell. he'd forgotten the key to the house in his rush, and it doesn't take long for the door to open — and surprisingly it's not darry who answers.

"didn't know you were back in town, paul," soda gives a brief smile. "where's darry?"

"morning, sodapop," paul says it, face a bit grim, opening the door enough to get him inside, "he's in the study."

"new or old one?" the house has changed beneath them both. where their parents had always been a little conscious of what did and didn't get into the house, darry and paul had both made sure the house always looked up to date with their needs whether it was the new cordless phones they had installed before anyone else in tulsa had to the latest art on the walls that decorate the foyer that soda passes.

none of it's very interesting to soda at this point with how things were switched out. "he's in the old one." paul walks briskly, dressed in an undershirt and slacks that soda bets he switched into the minute darry placed the call. the slippers look a little ridiculous on him, and soda holds his tongue as paul continues. "we got some surprising news today, and you'll be the first one besides me to hear."

"why don't you just tell me what it is?" soda frowns, keeping up with paul as they go down the halls, tracing familiar steps even if the surroundings aren't as familiar as they used to be. "i don't wanna be in the dark like this."

paul doesn't answer, just coming to the open study. soda's got no choice except to follow him — darry for once isn't scenting beneath cologne. he's clearly had a shower, and to soda's surprise there's a man there, talking to darry in a low voice. he's dressed in a suit, expression serious and when darry nods, he pulls away.

"we'll call when we've got more," the man looks to soda and paul, and nods. then he's out, and soda is more confused than before. paul follows the man out, and it leaves soda to look over his older brother.

their parents deaths and ponyboy's absence had changed them both. to soda, it seemed like darry had aged a little faster, even if he was still good looking. he grew a little more distant at times, and others, he seemed desperate for some closeness.

and soda had done his best. they'd bonded, kept together, stayed close. tried to speak to each other, bring their families closer and yet, the absence of three people was still too much sometimes. so he's nervous, leg hopping, voice quiet, "darry, what's going on? i'm gettin' a little scared."

darry takes a breath, rubs at his face. "i… that was a u. s. marshal. they… they said that they found ponyboy. found him alive."

for years, sodapop has wanted to hear the words. wanted to hear that ponyboy was found and it had slowly dwindled from thinking of him as being alive to thinking he'd be dead. he'd been pushing it away, that ponyboy might be dead, had wanted to believe otherwise.

and now…

now he doesn't know what to do with this lightning bolt of information. he doesn't know what to do as the words just echo in his head, that ponyboy was found, that he was alive. tears well up in his eyes and soda doesn't think, just rushes to darry and pulls him in a hug, squeezing tight. darry's usually so stiff and put together but it fades away when he grips soda tighter, giving a harsh sound as he does it.

ponyboy was alive. he was found.

all at once, a dozen questions fill up his head and soda can't keep them back, "where is he? how is he? when's he coming home? what about— what about dallas winston?" his vision is running over, tears blurring everything into browns and yellows and reds, and soda just lets darry squeeze him tighter. "fuck — he's — how is this happening?"

there's a harsh little sob from darry, and soda can hear the door to the study shut. he pulls away from darry to look up at his older brother, at the way his eyes are shining with tears, too. at the lines on his face that didn't deserve to be there so early, at the way he wipes at his face briskly, as if this isn't the biggest thing that's happened to them in years.

sometimes, he wonders if darry will ever let himself drop who he is as an adult. if one day, darry will be the kid he grew up with, more fun than not.

then he turns it over, blurting out again, "how could he have just —"

"okay, okay, kid brother," darry wipes at his eyes again, "hold your horses." he gives a cracked smile. "we aren't out of the woods yet." darry sniffs, clears his throat. "you remember greg? from high school?" it takes a moment and soda nods. "he's one of our salesman, out in texas. he went to sell equipment out there for us, and he found this stick of a town, thought he could make some money. soda you aren't gonna believe this — he found a small farm, talked to the hands and found out a dallas wesson was one of the owners. and his mates name was michael."

instantly, soda gets it. ponyboy's name, too unique. having to rely on his middle name. he sits down on one of the seats, eyes wide as darry paces and continues. "he said he didn't quite believe it — and then ponyboy came out, and greg said he had a goddamn shotgun, a farmer's tan. says he looks exactly like — like us. ponyboy threatened him, and he left. he got around town, and just. he said he saw a glimpse of him, but he saw dallas. called the u. s. marshals as soon as he could."

questions just mill around in soda's head all at once and he can hardly keep them in his head, hands twitching. ponyboy, a farmer. ponyboy — little, shy, always hiding behind their mother's skirts or with soda — threatening someone. little ponyboy, working on a farm for all these years. it's almost too much to consider all at once. "so—"

"why he didn't recognize greg? i don't know," darry runs a hand through his hair. "greg just says that the town says they've been together a lot. that… ponyboy's bruised up often, rarely leaves the farm. a lot townsfolk said they came in together around 1966, too. and dallas winston…" darry's expression darkens up and soda can feel himself stiffen. "they said he's got a bad temper on him, has dragged ponyboy out of town on more than one occasion. shit that's been going on for years now." he can see darry's temper flaring, can see how angry he is, the tip in scent. "ponyboy's been living like a hostage — they went to try and get him back and you know what that bastard did? he got ponyboy to shoot out the tires! drove the goddamn car and had him shooting at them, people who wanted to bring him home!"

the words he's saying fill soda up with trepidation — he can't imagine how dallas could do it, and yet…

soda pushes a thought he has away for later. "so they haven't found him yet? they ran away?"

shoulders dropping, darry nods. "they lost sight of them a few hours ago, but they're trying to seal off the town, make sure no one can leave. they thought they might come back to the farm for the animals or money, but no luck. they're keeping me updated, we got them calling the new phone line, and i put everything on hold until we hear back."

his hands sweat, get clammy, then. "you don't… you don't think dallas would do something crazy, do you?"

darry's face shifts, looks hopeless and sad. "i don't know. i wish i could say. i'm… i'm shocked ponyboy's alive at all, after all this time." it's a harsh, upsetting thing to say and soda can feel his gut turn. "i just hope… i hope they can bring him home."

"they will," soda says, even if he doesn't really know so. "they'll bring him home, if they're the marshals." darry warms up at that, and soda stands up to pull darry close to him. he holds darry like that for awhile, and darry holds him too, like they did like they were kids. he squeezes tightly, and can't help but feel that his own tears are welling up — when's the last time he and darry did this? when's the last time darry's scent settled on him, felt like family like this?

soda wipes at his eyes again, voice wavering, "i don't wanna… do you need me to stay at all?"

darry shakes his head. "no — i got this. just stay close to the phone, okay? they're hoping to get them in the next few hours." he pauses though, shakes his head. "you know what — your room's still where it used to be. just stay here, until things get done. think… i think pony would be happier to have us all here when he gets home."

well. soda can't help himself. he bursts into tears like a baby at that. he can't help himself, too overwhelmed at the possibility of having him back after all this time, of getting to hold ponyboy again, of getting to erase all the time between them.

when he and darry finally finish, wiping at their faces, he asks, "can i use your phone? i just need to call sandy."

"yeah, we put one in everyone's rooms," there's a shrug there. "should be right by the bed."

it doesn't take much for soda to find his old room. it's mostly untouched, just the sheets cleaned and rearranged and the phone is there, just like darry said. he shuts the door, and considers only for a moment what he's about to do.

then he picks up the phone and dials out. it takes three rings — his eyes darting to the doors — when the line picks up, a sleepy, husky voice over the line. "whoever the fuck this is—"

"molly? it's sodapop," he says quietly over the line. "is two bit home?"

there's a clatter, some movement and molly yawns. "yeah, let me go get 'im." he can hear her move around, can almost see her face. "everything okay?"

"it's about ponyboy and dallas," sodapop keeps his voice down. "just need to get to him, quick."

"well, shit. hold on," he can hear her pick up the pace, and then some whispered words.

"soda? soda, what's going on?" two bit's voice fills the line, alert. "molly said—"

"dallas and ponyboy been found," soda rushes out over the line. "u. s. marshals found them in texas, and they're trying to capture them."

there's a rustle of paper, swearing. "dammit — hold on, i gotta get my pencil. shit." sodapop waits patiently, able to envision two bit moving around, can see him getting everything together "this would happen now — had something for the front page but shit— molly— thanks!" soda sinks onto the bed, and sees on the dresser, the last photo he and ponyboy had taken together, ponyboy at his cotillion. ponyboy looks hardly there in his smile, his arm around soda's waist, soda leaning against him.

soda knows that what he's doing isn't going to make darry or paul happy. neither of them have ever believed that dallas could be a good person, and right now, soda takes the chance as two bit says, "okay. tell me everything."

he grips the phone, and talks. talks and talks, goes over the details, lets two bit asks him questions until an hour later, two bit says, "i think i got it all, soda." he sounds as exhausted as soda feels over the line and when soda looks at the clock, he's stunned by how late it is. "last thing — did darry tell you how long things might before they find them?"

"no," soda shakes his head even if two bit can't see him. "they just told us to wait." he scrubs at his face, feeling exhausted. "you think… you think i'll be soon?"

"i dunno," two bit sighs out against the line. "even i don't know how these things work. all you need to do is keep me in the loop, as much as you can."

there's a half laugh from soda. "all these phones, i can do it." he gives a yawn. "i'll let you go, two bit. thanks for listening to me."

"you get some rest, you'll need it." two bit says, and then the line goes dead.

exhausted, soda puts the phone on the hook and he doesn't think anymore. he just kicks off his shoes and his socks, peels off his jacket and shirt, and goes to bed there. he sleeps almost instantly.

it's hours later when soda comes to, sunlight streaming through his room. the sound of people moving around reaches his ears, some muffled voices and when he shifts in bed, it takes him a moment to remember where he is: his childhood bedroom.

he sits up, throwing the covers off of him. the floor's the same as it was when he was a kid, and he quickly opens the door, peering into the hallway. several scents, mingled with cologne greets him: there are reporters at the end of the hall. they're at the bottom of the lavish steps, to be more accurate, allowed only in the foyer. any descent up the stairs is held up by paul. soda turns his head away, leaves the top of the steps before he can be seen. further down the hallway, in the opposite direction, soda can see darry, back turned, a phone to his ear.

he makes his way to darry instead, coming around to face him. his face looks pallid, upset, and when he looks at soda, his heart sinks in reaction. thoughts race across his mind: was ponyboy found? did dallas get captured? he mouths the word, news? to darry.

darry holds up a hand, "now — i understand that people want a statement, bob. and i— bob, listen. listen to me. for now, our statement is that the situation is still ongoing. and we will let everyone outside of the family know, when we get more information," darry's voice is cold, angry, and soda keeps his face straight. then darry slams the phone onto the receiver, looking angrier than ever, more tired than ever.

"what the hell is going on?" even as soda asks it, he can guess a bit. he's not the smartest tool in the shed, but even he can tell. but darry doesn't totally need to know. "why are there reporters—"

"someone told the newspaper — keith mathews," darry snarls out his name, "put it on the front of the newspapers, had every damn detail!" he seethes, "we don't have a head on this and now everyone needs an answer, now. and irene cade is about to get on every channel she can to get some eyes on this, too."

"yeah, i'll bet," he makes sure to sound annoyed — mostly because he couldn't stand irene cade either. her husband had long died, but irene cade made sure that her son's death was her crusade, no matter what situation. the rest of soda breathes a sigh of relief; two bit hadn't told how he got the information and that was good. "is he angling this against you guys again?" his eyes flick to down the hall as the door slams shut.

the way darry's face looks so annoyed, soda feels a bit of pity at playing dumb. "knowing him, it'd be just the thing he could do, turn ponyboy coming home into some tirade against us." he scowls deeply. "i haven't seen it yet; paul did, and he got everyone else. bob… well, you know him well enough. likes being a brown noser where he can." darry tenses up more and shakes his head. "we'll… deal with that leak later. you okay, kid brother?"

it's the second time he's said it. "i'm okay enough. was thinking i might stay here with you and paul, until everything's worked out. thinking you might like me here, for when ponyboy's home." soda gives him a small smile, and darry relaxes.

darry claps his shoulder. "it'll be good to have you. been a pretty long time since we've been home, hasn't it?"

"years," soda says, the word feeling painful in his throat. he doesn't want to talk about the fact that they're right outside the one room in the house that's been locked for decades now. "you had breakfast yet?"

darry shakes his head, and sighs. "c'mon, let's go. at least breakfast is easy enough." soda nods, and follows darry down the hall, past the portraits of their parents, of them, until the only photos left are of darry and paul, sometimes with soda's brood.

he only turns back once, to look at the photo of ponyboy — he must've been newly fourteen, unfocused, and sitting on their porch. his eyes still look big in his face, his shirt a soft yellow. he's alone, between the photos of them all as a family, and then everything after.

he wonders just how much ponyboy has changed.