Thanks for the nice reviews! I'm very open to criticism because I could use some for sure. Happy New Year! and Merry late Christmas!

Steve's POV

I start to doubt my abilities to take of Darry. Pushing away the doubt, I think about how I need to do this. The only ones who have ever really taken care of me are God and the Curtis family- or maybe it's God through the Curtis's. Either way I'd like to give back to them. My mind reminds me of another reason I should do this- to convince myself that I'm not as cold as people think I am. Lately I've been feeling like I might be turning into the cold person people see me as. I don't want to be like that. There's way too much of that in the world as it is.

Everyone starts to file out of the house realizing it's way later than they thought it was. As Soda is going he quickly starts to try to explain everything to me and tells me how Darry doesn't let on how bad he feels sometimes, but I cut him off reassuring, "Soda, I'll be fine."

Soda slows down and catches his breath and puts his hand on my shoulder, "Thanks, Steve, you're a pal," he shoots me his smile that can make any person feel happier.

"But you'll call me if you need to right?" Soda asks one more time while he heads out the door.

"Of course, now go'on, you might be late!" I try to smile like he does, but I don't know if I did it right. Soda laughs and runs out.

I peek my head into Darry's room to tell him I'll be in the living room, but I see him sleeping and quietly close the door. In the living room I sit cross-legged on the floor and switch the TV on. It blasts sound at full volume and I scramble trying to turn it down. "Two-Bit," I mumble.

After watching the TV with the volume down so low I can barely hear it, Darry walks in with a blanket wrapped around himself. Once again I'm surprise by how much younger he seems. Not only is he still in sweatpants, socks, and an old high school t-shirt, but with him wrapped in a blanket, not taking steps but instead just sliding inch by inch on his socks, and his tired face I feel like he's the kid I first met him as. He's not his normal I've Been Working 12 Hours Six Days A Week tired, but more of an I Feel Lousy And I Don't Know What To Do tired.

"Hey, Dar," I greet lightly, "feelin' any better?"

"Oh, you know," Darry answers laying down on the couch.

I look at him and understand that response means he doesn't. "Worse?" I ask.

He just squeezes his eyes shut. If this had been anyone else in the gang I would've pried them harder, but I knew Darry was making a big step just coming out of his room where people might be able to see him not feeling well. I drop the subject. "How does soup sound for lunch, Darry?"

"You don't have to make soup, it's fine, you're doing enough already," Darry responds with his eyes still closed.

I decide for him and announce, "We're having soup."

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Darry's POV

I drift in and out of sleep on the couch. I don't much feel better, but I didn't want to leave Steve by himself after he had offered to stay. I probably am not the best company right now, but I think he knows I didn't want to come out at all in the first place. I'm not contagious so I don't have too much of an excuse besides I don't feel like it. Which is probably a fine excuse as it is considering I am sick, but I don't know. I'm not really thinking straight. I don't like this. I like knowing exactly what's going on.

Deciding I need a break from thinking I just lay on the couch with my knees bent so I fit on with a kind of funny show on TV playing quietly. After awhile I smell the soothing aroma of chicken noodle soup fill the whole house. My eyes close again and I didn't realize I had fallen back asleep until I hear Steve's voice. At first it's muffled, but then my I peel my eyes open and blink because of the brightness, but finally start to hear him say, "I got some soup, Darry, and a glass of water too. You awake?"

"What? Yeah, I'm up, yeah," I say sitting up too fast. My head sways and I grab the arm of the couch trying to balance myself.

"Darry," Steve says hesitantly setting the soup and water on the beaten down coffee table, "Darry, just take it easy." He grabs my shoulder and feels the back of my neck. My eyes open wide. It's been so long since anyone's felt for my temperature and it still surprises me.

"Hey, buddy, you eat up, I'm gonna take your temperature again," Steve explains going to get the thermometer.

He goes out of the room and I pick up the bowl of soup. Steve comes back in. "Thanks for the soup, Steve."

"No problem, man. Here take your temperature," he says handing me the thermometer.

A little while later he takes the thermometer out of my mouth and looks at it. "Hey, it's 101.9. That's lower than it was, wasn't?"

"Sure is," I say taking another bite of soup.

We watch TV for awhile and when I go to put my bowl in the sink Steve looks at me and stands up taking the bowl saying, "No sir, you're not doing no chores today."

"Steve," I try to say.

"Lay back down, mister," he orders washing my bowl along with all the other dishes.

I'm pretty tired so I stop fighting my stubborn self and lay back down.

Not too long later I barely hear Steve ask, "You awake, Dar?"

I kind of mumble in response, though I'm not really completely awake and my eyes are still closed.

"You don't gotta wake up for this, Darry, don't try to. It's easier if you're not asleep. I just felt like I should thank you. You know, for taking care of me all these years- you, and Soda, and your folks, and even Pony. It's been pretty hard," Steve's voice shakes a little before he continues, "My dad used to be so nice, but ever since he started going down hill- you know. I get mad at him, but I remember how he used to be and I always go back, then leave, go back, and leave, and over and over and over. He needs someone to make sure there's food in the fridge and that the bills get paid and to see someone still loves him. It's just so hard sometimes." Steve, thinking I'm asleep, leans deeper into the chair I usually sit in and crosses his arms staring far away.

Still barely awake I softly whisper, "I'm sorry."

Steve looks at me and smiles just a little and lightly whispers back, "Thanks, man. Go back to sleep. Soda's gonna be here soon."

By the time he's done talking, I've already drifted off to sleep.