Second to last chapter…thanks for all the reviews…leave what you want to see for the last chapter! Tee hee! 

Thanks SO SO SO much for reading!!

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"I got lost

In the sounds

I hear in my mind

All these voices

I hear in my mind all these words

I hear in my mind

All this music

And it breaks my heart"

-Regina Spektor

XXXX

Soda's POV

I hated hospitals. Pretty much everyone I know winds up here.

Taking one last puff of my cigarette, I chucked it onto the sidewalk and eyed the EMERGENCY sign warily. I blew into my hands and then stuffed them nervously into my pockets.

Earlier this morning, Darry had called the DX telling me Ponyboy had come around.

"I'll be right there," I had said, my knuckles white as they gripped the phone tightly.

"No, Soda," Darry said briskly. "He's…-"

I clutched the phone tighter, keeping my voice steady. "He's all right ain't he?"

Darry sighed, hesitation apparent in his voice. "Sure, he's just a little upset. Finish out the day and come around after work. Let him settle down. Ok, Sodapop?"

"Darry…did he say anything…?"

Shit. I hated this feeling. It was the same feeling I had had after Sandy had left. Just sitting around and waiting for the phone to ring.

I didn't know how Darry did it. Worrying about so many things at one time, especially worrying over Ponyboy and me. But deep down I knew how he did it. He had to do it.

Sure, we made him crazy but without us he'd really go insane.

Darry had sighed again. "He hasn't asked for anyone, Sodapop."

So now standing outside of the hospital, I was trying to work up the guts to actually go inside. I was afraid of Ponyboy blaming for this whole mess.

Ponyboy had woken up once the whole time I had been at the hospital with him. And I had missed it. Then the next day he had been listed as critical, drifting in and out of crazed murmurings. As much as I hated to think about it, there were times when Darry and I had had our doubts…

Usually I wasn't one with a guilt complex, but this time…

I honestly couldn't take it. My mind kept reeling back to the last thing I had said to him; the last time I had seen him….

I had walked into the house, Two-bit and Steve trailing after me. We all stopped abruptly at the scene before us. Darry had been leaning over Ponyboy; he was on the phone with Dana, one hand on our brother's wrist, checking for a pulse.

"Ponyboy Michael," Darry had murmured, "don't you do this. Wake up. Now."

Shock had overtaken me, but just as quickly as it had come it left and I had started yelling and shaking Ponyboy.

But he wouldn't move. And there was so much blood.

"Aw, shit kid!" Two-Bit choked out.

"Darry, what the hell happened?" I had yelped, beside myself.

Without waiting for an ambulance, Darry scooped him up and we hauled ass to the hospital. I held Ponyboy and talked to him the entire drive - not once looking up to see the damage to the rest of Tulsa - but I didn't think Pony had heard any of it.

You should have known, a small voice kept repeating inside of me. You should have known. The weather was obvious.

Instead of focusing on the weather, my mind had been pondering how much Steve and I could hock Darry's old baseball cards for.

That little mistake had just about cost me way more than I had ever thought possible. My hands shook and I fought the urge to chain-smoke my way through half a pack of smokes.

XXXX

Two-Bit and Steve were already in the waiting room by the time I made my way to the third floor.

Two-Bit was lounging on three of the chairs, his legs kicked up on the wall, a cigarette dangling in his mouth. "Fancy meetin' you here," he drawled in his best John Wayne. He swung his legs down and sat up as I sank into a chair next to him.

Steve grunted a hello. I was surprised he was here, but said nothing.

Steve wasn't one of my favorite people right now.

After Darry's phone call today, my mind had been so distracted I poured windshield wiper fluid where the oil was supposed to go in a Cadillac I was working on.

"I'm not going to let you get your ass fired," Steve reminded me. "Focus on your goddamned job."

Gritting my teeth, I tried to correct my mistake. "My job is the least of my concerns right now."

Steve had smirked at me. "Darry ain't gonna be too happy when he hears-"

"I don't care what Darry thinks," I had snapped.

Steve had been silent for a moment. He toyed with his wrench, and then violently tightened the lug nuts on a Buick. "Yeah, well maybe you should care about what Ponyboy's gonna think when he wakes up."

I had blanched, in disbelief that my best friend had played that card. "You're an asshole," I told him.

And now, as Steve was leaning against the wall, considering something. I narrowed my eyes, sensing that my friend had a whole lot more to say.

"Steve," I shut my eyes, not in the mood. "You better not say another word."

He shot me his do I ever listen? look and began, "Soda, I'm not that stupid. You've been blamin' yourself over this whole mess and you gotta stop."

"Ste-eve," Two-Bit warned, his eyes darting between Steve and myself, "this is not the best place for an intervention." The cigarette lolled in his mouth as he considered something and said, "Not to mention the fact that you're a tactless, cold-hearted bastard."

Steve sneered at Two-Bit and leaned back against the wall lazily. "You didn't drag your brother outside. You didn't know it was going to happen…"

"Steve," I warned darkly, staring at my hands. I had a feeling if he flapped his mouth anymore I'd start swinging. "Shut. Up. I swear to God if you say-"

"Well, somebody needs to say it," Steve huffed. "It was just luck, Soda. Dumb, shitty luck," Steve snapped, deliberately trying to hit a nerve. "Although, that damn kid better start watching himself because it seems he's used up his share of 'get out of jail free cards'." He ran a hand through his hair, looking both ashamed of his words and thankful at the same time.

My face jerked up in angry surprise and I clenched my fists. That was cruel, even for Steve.

"Knock it off," Two-Bit cautioned, in a very un-Two-Bit like voice that caused Steve and me to remember that he was older than the both of us.

Two-Bit glanced around. "Christ, where's a hospital bar when you need one?"

Dana and Darry emerged from Pony's room, their soft footsteps padding down the hall. Dana twirled a stethoscope in her right hand, Darry looked completely frazzled.

"What's wrong?" I asked, already halfway down the hall to meet him.

Darry ran a hand down the front of his tired face and blinked, seeming to really see me. "Nothing."

Dana caught his look and put in, "Soda, your brother's been awake since last night. The fever's breaking. He'll have to stay here a few more days-just for observation."

To me that was good news, but the look on Darry's face wasn't. "Darry," I pressed, "What's really wrong?"

My brother suddenly looked much younger. In fact, I couldn't remember a time when he had actually seemed young to me. Darry squinted hard and tried to find his voice. He cleared his throat gruffly as Dana gently slipped her arm around his waist.

"You know his book – Johnny's book- 'Gone with the Wind'? He told me to throw it away."

XXXX

"Sodapop," Ponyboy greeted me with a soft, half-hearted smile as I entered his room. He was reading the newspaper and tossed it aside. Shifting slightly, he winced and his face settled into bored resignation.

My heart sped up and I quickly plopped down on the edge of his bed and grasped both of his hands with my own, as if it would keep him from floating away. Leaning forward, I kissed him on the forehead and evaluated his pale face.

"Oh, kiddo," was all I could say for the moment. Then I shot him a grin. "Darry says you've been up for a while. Took you long enough."

Ponyboy coughed. "Yeah, well I wasn't in any hurry," he said bitterly.

"Don't say that," I said firmly, a part of me crumbling inside. "If anything had happened…"

Staring past me to the window, he mumbled, "Something did happen."

"What?" I asked sharply, my mind instantly wondering who I would have to hunt down and beat.

"Nothing," he muttered, pulling his hands away and playing with his sheets.

"How do you feel?" I asked, trying to tamp down something that felt like panic but worse. Despite the fact that my brother looked extremely sick, thin and fragile, there was something else that was unnerving me.

It was as if something in him was…dead…gone.

"Sore."

A second of silence passed and then Ponyboy asked in a small voice: "You wouldn't happen to have a cigarette would you? Or an aspirin?"

"Dana wouldn't give you any? Aspirin that is?" I mused, smiling slightly at the thought of my little brother actually being allowed to smoke in his state. Darry would shit himself.

He frowned. "No. Something about thinning my blood."

I raised a concerned eyebrow and pushed his hair back. "Then it's probably a good idea to listen to them."

I wanted to ask him about the book but didn't dare. Instead, guilt was rising in me and I suddenly blurted: "God, I'm sorry. I should have made you go back to the house, I should have known about the weather."

Pony seemed confused and then he blinked. "Soda," he said, somewhat shocked as he struggled to sit up straighter, "it's alright. It's not your fault."

"Maybe not," I said, miserably, words spilling out, "but God, I still should have known. First our parents…what if it had been you next? How could Darry and I have gone on-?"

I cut myself off. Ponyboy's eyes were suddenly alive. "Pone?"

He nodded. "You'd go on. You'd have to."

I shook my head furiously but my brother leaned forward eagerly. "Soda. Can I ask you something?" Worry flickered across his face but also acceptance. "And I can only ask you this."

"Sure, kiddo. Anything."

"Dallas and Johnny are dead aren't they?"

"Pone," I faltered. "You know they are."

Please, agree with me. Please, God, I prayed silently, clenching my jaw.

"Yeah," he agreed, dropping back into the pillows. "I know. I just had to be sure of something."

It was either now or never. "Pone," I ventured, "why'd you have Darry throw the book away?" I held my breath, a little afraid of the answer.

He seemed baffled by this and then just shrugged. "I don't need it anymore. I'll remember it when I need to."

And then Ponyboy shot me his grin and I knew with relief that he'd be ok. It might take a while…but he'd get through it.

I'd make sure of that.

"Man, Soda," Pony said with a yawn, "I know I was on a lot of drugs. But what I saw was…freaky."

I never had time to ask him what he meant because he was already drifting off.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to know myself.

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Meh. I'm just not feeling this chapter. I wanted to get Soda's POV in here….but I think it crashes and burns quite successfully. I hope it's not too melancholy…

I'll let you be the judge.

Only one chapter to go…look for it tomorrow!