Tap tap.
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
Darry stared at the wall, repetitively tapping a pencil on the dining room table. Last night Ponyboy ran out, after he made the stupid mistake of striking him, and never came back. Next thing he knew, there was a murder case all over the news. Descriptions of his baby brother and Johnny were all over every headline he saw. With any luck, tomorrow the cops would be knocking on his door to ask him about everything he knew. Dallas was already hauled in. Darry had a feeling he knew something. Pony wouldn't have come back to him that night even if it meant the kid would be resurrected, and Johnny didn't trust anyone more than he trusted Dallas. But Dally kept his trap shut better than anyone. He'd lie out his ass if it meant Johnny was safe. Which meant he wasn't gonna know anytime soon where Pony was.
It was night two of no sleep for Darry. How could he close his eyes, when he knew Pony was out there, somewhere, running from the cops? How could he rest without a clue about what really happened that night or where Pony was or if anyone knows where he went or if Pony was even safe? The lack of sleep was getting to him, but not by making him tired. He was starting to get short tempered and nervous about everything. He'd almost picked up a cigarette the other day, something he hadn't done since junior high, just because nothing could soothe his anxiety.
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
The clock read 2 AM, like it was mocking him and his strained eyes. Darry got up and walked to the bedroom Soda and Pony shared, and poked his head in. Sodapop had finally fallen asleep, after pacing nervously for probably three hours. Darry sighed and walked back to the kitchen.
The front door slowly creaked open, and Darry bolted into the living room. His heart raced, hoping to see his little brother walking in the front door, a little dinged up, but safe and sound nonetheless. He was ready to hug him and apologize for everything because he didn't wanna lose the kid ever again.
Darry's face dropped when he saw not the red hair of Ponyboy, but the red hair of a much taller, broader figure walking in his door. He bit back an angry "oh, its you…" and swallowed his disappointment. Two-bit Mathews gave him a small wave and a weak smile.
"Hey, Darry, didya hear?" Two-bit started, his voice quiet. There was a lift of excitement at the tail-end of his words.
"Probably not, because no one has told me anything," Darry said, with more bite than he'd intended.
"It's about what Dally told the cops," A smile spread across Two-bit's face, and he excitedly told Darry the news. "He told 'um they were headed for Texas. I swear, I'm about ready to pack up my shit and race the cops to get them first-"
"Two-bit, you know Dallas wouldn't tell the cops where they really are. He's not a snitch, and he knows I'd beat his ass to Timbuktu and back if he did. If he told the cops Texas, they're probably halfway to California by now."
The smile ran away from Two-bit's face. He knew Darry was right, but he wanted to hold onto that little bit of hope that he maybe could know where Johnny and Pony were. It was just last night that he was joking around with them. And now… He didn't want to think about it, but it was the only thing he wanted to keep on his mind as well. Them being in danger like that made him want to curl up and cry, something he hadn't done in a long time.
Darry noticed Two-bit's face sink completely. It was like every inch of happiness had been ripped out of him. His eyes were puffy and red, and he chewed his bottom lip anxiously. His hair, usually slicked back perfectly, was disheveled and fell against his forehead. He combed a shaky hand through it once or twice. Two-bit was falling apart just as much as he was over it. Which shouldn't have surprised Darry.
With a sigh, Darry put a hand on his back. "Come sit down, Keith. You look like you need a drink." Two-bit nodded, letting Darry lead him to the table.
Darry grabbed two beers from the kitchen, no intention of drinking his, but it felt weird to make Two-bit feel like he was drinking alone. He slid one in front of Two-bit and sat down next to him.
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
It was silent, save for the tapping of Darry's pencil again, for a long time. Neither one of them said a word.
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
The longer they sat there without saying anything, the worse they both felt. Two-bit didn't even touch the beer Darry had placed in front of him. It just sat there, condensation slowly dripping off the bottle and onto the table.
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
Tap—
Darry finally dropped the pencil, the light clunk sounding like a kettle drum as it cut the silence. Two-bit's gaze shot over to see Darry rubbing his eyes with his hands, his face scrunched up and frustrated.
"Dammit!" he whispered. "God dammit! If he'd just come home after the movie, used his head, he'd be safe, and at home, and he'd be heading to school on Monday just like normal—"
"And if Caesar's just gone home he'd've been king of Rome," Two-bit quietly interrupted. "There's a million if's, Superman, you can't keep hanging on the shoulda's like that."
Darry opened his mouth to argue, but couldn't seem to say what he meant. Two-bit's hand fell on the top of his beer while he looked at Darry expectantly. A few more moments passed before Darry actually said something.
"How can I not think of all the ways this should've been avoided? If someone would've done one thing different? All the things someone could've done to keep them safe—"
"Shoulda, woulda, coulda," Two-bit remarked, simply and bluntly.
Darry's face folded into a scowl. "What the hell, Keith? What are you—shoulda woulda coulda? That's all you gotta say?" He shoved his chair back away from the table. "This isn't a joke, Keith!" He stood up, arms crossed tight against his chest, and started walking toward the kitchen. He stopped right before the door, then turned around. "He's your brother, too, and for Christ's sake you were with him most of the night before he disappeared! Why aren't you losing your mind over everything you could've done differently that night too? God… Shoulda woulda coulda…You know, you shoulda made sure he got home before 2 in the morning, if you woulda he might be home safe, we coulda avoided all of this shit!" He rubbed his temples and went on. "You're always telling me how you wish you could act like his brother, how you wish he looked up to you like he does me and Soda, but the minute you should step up and act like his brother, where are you? Getting wasted and reeling through the streets as usual, right, Keith?"
"We're really doing this shit, Darry? Really? Well, I can play that game too. Maybe if you didn't hit the poor kid, he wouldn't have ran out in the first place! You're so fucking quick to judge, to pass the blame!" Two-bit finally opened his beer. "We can go back and forth like this all night, Darrel. At least, I can…"
Darry stood there with his mouth open. Darry knew full and well if he hadn't been so hard on him like that none of this would've happened. He knew that if he hadn't lashed out like that Pony might've just marched off to bed, angry but safe, and he would have dealt with it in the morning. And he was trying hard to forget about it.
"Don't you say that shit to me," Darry spat back.
"Say what, the truth? You're too damn hard on that kid. Ain't even listen to what he has to say about anything half the time. Y'know how many times I've heard him whine about you Darry? I've heard his speech so many times I could probably recite it word for word."
"Shut the hell up, Keith. I don't need this shit from you."
"I hear it all the time. I wish Darry'd give me a break. I wish Darry wasn't so quick to yell at me. I wish Darry would just listen."
"Shut up, Keith."
"No, I won't shut up! You don't give him or anyone the time of day to explain themselves. You just assume you're always right, Darrel."
"I said shut the hell up Keith!" Darry raised his voice. "At least I'm trying! 'Least I'm working for a living to keep us off the ground! 'Least I'm trying to be there for him! I don't think you understand how hard it is, goin' from being older brother to basically a parent in the blink of an eye! I gotta put the role confidant on the backburner sometimes, because I gotta take care of him and put food on the table, gotta make sure he gets an education, I gotta make sure we stay together. You aren't even trying to take care of yourself! You're too busy stealing shit from convenience stores and getting shitfaced to act like an adult. Don't talk to me like you know how to run a house."
"Oh fuck off, Darry! You're always on me about getting my shit together, growing up, not being such a slacker. Get a job already Keith, stop mooching off your poor mom Keith, you should really step up and help around your own house Keith. You're an adult, Keith you need to act like it. Maybe you should take your own fucking advice. Part of being an adult is realizing when you need to own up to shit and move forward. That's what I meant, you know, with the shoulda woulda coulda?" Darry wasn't hearing a word he was saying. He was scowling at the floor. Two-bit dropped his head into his hands, feeling a headache growing from either the lack of sleep or the frustration. "You don't listen for shit, man. You really don't."
"How they hell am I supposed to listen to you, you're over here telling me not to be worried about my kid brother! Our kid brother! Why aren't you as terrified as me?" Darry's voice was growing louder and louder as he spoke, forgetting entirely about Sodapop sleeping a few doors down.
"You think I'm not worried out of my mind? Why do you think I'm here, Darry?" He fumbled with a carton of cigarettes in his pocket and pulled one out. He lit it with a shaky hand and took a long draw off it. "I didn't just roll up here for a good time and a drink, Darry!" His voice was starting to tremble as bad as his hands. "Wanna know something, Darry? This afternoon, when I saw their descriptions in the paper, I was so goddamn scared for them. I was so scared that I actually fucking cried. I cried for a good hour. I haven't done that since freshman year, haven't cried at all." Darry looked at him, folding his arms back over his chest. "I cried, because I was scared about their safety. I cried because I was there before it must have all happened. I started wondering if there was anything I could've done that would've kept them safe. If I'd just walked them all the way home, if I'd been there before Dal started buggin' the Soc gals, if...if...if…" Hot tears were building in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks despite his attempts to blink them away. "Shit, 'course I'm fucking crying again." Two-bit wiped them away impatiently.
Darry sat down again, and the silence grew back over the room, only interrupted by the occasional sniffle from Two-bit. The clock now read 2:43 AM. Darry picked up his pencil again, but just held it. No rhythmic tapping, just quietly turned it over and over, studying it like it was the most interesting thing ever.
Two-Bit finally spoke. "What I was trying to say, Darry, is that if you keep thinking of everything that could've happened different, you're gonna end up letting it eat you alive. You can't say, what if they came home on time, what if someone else had been there, what if I hadn't touched him, because it's not gonna change that that's what happened. You can't point fingers and place the blame because it won't bring them home. You gotta accept that what happened, happened, and there's nothing you can do to change it." Two-bit looked over to try to make eye contact with Darry. Darry didn't change his gaze from being locked on the pencil. With a sigh, he went on. "All we can really do is think about how we're gonna get them home."
With that, it was silent again.
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
"I just want them to come home safe, like nothing ever happened." Darry said after a while.
"I know," Two-bit said, putting out his cigarette.
Tap tap.
Tap tap.
Tap Tap.