What am I supposed to do when the best part of me was always you,
And what am I supposed to say when I'm all choked up that you're ok

They say bad things happen for a reason
But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding
Cos she's moved on while I'm still grieving
And when a heart breaks no it don't breakeven... no

Breakeven- The Script

I was so cold.

I shivered, moving closer to Darry for warmth.Dar slowly released his grip on my hand only to replace it around my shoulder. I leaned slightly into him, needing the human contact. I hated graveyards. Naw, that wasn't the right word. I hated Socs. I hated being alone. I hated bein' helpless. I detested graveyards. Wow, was that a big word. I dunno where it came from, since these days it seemed like I was having a helluva time just putting one foot in front of the other.

In my head, graveyards were dark and scary, with shadows, and the trees bent and crippled-like. The only sound that I could comprehend was our breathing, louder than normal in the dead silence. Behind me, I could hear someone's breathing hitch and stutter in time with her quiet sobs as she visited a tiny grave near the corner of the yard, a sleeping baby carved on the stone. My heart jumped and I looked away, not able to share her pain, too. My heart was already far too close to ripping from the strain of my brothers' agony as well.

The graveyard was far enough away from the hopping nightlife of Tulsa that no sirens or normal noise reached up the hill to the black gates. The chirp of crickets sounded very far away as my heart drummed loudly in my ears. I swallowed quietly, averting my eyes from the dark forest. I was creeped out enough without the thought that something might leap out from the trees and eat us.

A little bit more of my heart wrenched away from the whole as I turned my gaze to a certain part of the graveyard. It was the newest part, the dirt was still overturned and cool , and there was no grass growing on the two newest smooth mounds.

Behind a huge towering tombstone I knew there were two smaller stones that lay slightly crooked under a weeping willow, its bending and dipping branches dusting the top of the graves.

Mum. Dad.

I walked to the corner of the graveyard, closer to the section that held the fresh pain; The open wounds on my heart cracked wider with each shuffling step I took.

It had been two months.

It only took two minutes for their car to skid down the ravine by Lover's Bridge on the North side of town, and maybe two hours for the man that hit them to get so reeling pickled that he couldn't see straight enough to drive. He had hit them head on before hitting a tree and coming to a stop – alive, but concussed -- only feet from the side of the craggy cliff.

Mum and dad hadn't been so lucky. Their car had crumpled under the strain of the impact, like a tin can under a heavy foot. They had gone head over heels down, down, down…only stopping when they hit the bottom, thirty or so feet down.

Yet we would now have to live our lives without them, all because of those two minutes.

It was real hot in that damn graveyard, even though night was comin' down on us like a drunk Two-Bit. I shifted side to side, accidentally bumping into Pony. He teetered, startled and caught off-guard.

"Sorry," I muttered, throwing out a hand to steady him. He fixed me with solemn green eyes, the normally bright color surrounded by tears. As I watched, his eyes slowly spilled over. It had been so long since I had hugged him, even touched Pony. I hadn't been able to hug him, to comfort him the way he needed. He was a baby after all, barely 13 years old.

My world shuddered as I realized I had abandoned my little brother just when he had needed me most. I had been there through the black eyes, the cut knees and the bloody noses, but never through heartbreak. I had never needed to be, until now.

Letting out all my breath in a whoosh, I shrugged off Dar's hand to throw my arms around Pony. Dar stepped back from us, shoving his hands into his pockets and giving an almighty sniff. His eyes were slightly red, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

"Oh, Pone," I said sadly, feeling tears make my world go blurry as I ran a hand through his soft hair, threading my fingers into the strands and tugging slightly so his head rested on my shoulder. "Ponyboy, don't cry," I choked out, sniffing mightily to hold back my tears, to stay tough for both my brothers. "Don't cry now," I managed to get out, pulling myself away from Pony long enough to roughly wipe my eyes and clear my throat. I hated crying, even though I seemed to be doing a lot of it lately. Crying made you soft, made you look weak. If you cried in front of a Soc, you were done. There was no hope for a greaser who didn't live up to his status.

Ponyboy nodded, gulping air and staggering the last few steps until he reached Mum's grave. He kneeled down, threading his fingers through the dirt and sifting it in his hand, staring hard at our parent's simple graves. I know it killed Darry that he couldn't afford anything more elegant for the people who had loved us and raised us for so many years. I also knew that he was having trouble paying off the funeral, even with the bit of money from our parent's will, not to mention that he now was our legal guardian.

"If…if they were here, what would they think?" he asked, his voice cracking. "What would they think of us bein' hoods, an all?" Pony looked up at me, his lip trembling. I sighed tiredly and tugged Darry forward with me to sit with Pone at their graves.

"I-I dunno, Ponyboy," I answered truthfully. I honestly had no idea. I didn't know if our mum would cry, if dad would sigh and shake his head, or cuff me on the head and smile.

We had always been greasers in a sense, hanging out with our gang, sneaking into movies, going to the vacant lot…..hell, I had been doing most of that stuff since I was able to get out of the house on my own. But now…it seemed different, more…dangerous. There was no mother at home now to stitch up our wounds, no father to bail us out of sticky situations. There was more at stake now than ever before. If Pone or I got in trouble….we could be sent to a home, or even worse, to an orphanage.

I shuddered just thinking about it. I grabbed Pony's hand, then Darry's. Dar smiled at me distractedly, looking out into the rustling trees. Their deep green, rapidly darkening in the dusk, was real pretty. I smiled slightly, comparing the color to Pony's pretty eyes. I had never really looked at any shit like trees before, but since mom and dad died…I don't know, things seem more there then they ever did before. I poked Pone to point them out to him, but he was looking west; his eyes tracking the pink sky and the sinking sun.

"Pone, look-" I began before a surprised shout from Dar scared the ever-loving shit out of me.

"Guys!" he yelled, pointing frantically to me and Ponyboy and then to his battered watch. "State appointment- you two…FIVE MINUTES!" he practically screamed in my face, and then yanked us up, bolting down the hill as fast as his long legs would go. Pony and I looked at each other for a stunned minute, and then flew after him, through the gate and into the street.

Just one more thing to get used to, I thought grumpily as we sprinted through our neighborhood. Stupid State visits. They came nosing in once every two months, weaseling into our lives and questioning everything we did. The first visit we had--only two weeks after mum and dad died--was from a lady with hair an eye-watering shade of orange and a nose like a parrot's beak.

She had insisted on staying with us for lunch. Still reeling from the fact that we were now somehow parentless, I had said I would make lunch. It was probably the dumbest thing I had ever offered. Not thinking, I had stupidly tried to make pancakes, basically the only food I could make without burning. When I was twelve I had gone through a phase where I would only eat pancakes and chocolate cake, so my mother had happily taken that opportunity to teach me how to cook at least something.

I had poured the batter into a bowl and stirred it as I looked for the battered griddle I knew we kept somewhere under the sink, wincing at the squeaky sound the door made. It seemed to loud in our usually loud house. I glanced nervously into the family room, where the lady, Sarah, sat.

She was shooting questions at Ponyboy one after another as he answered each one quietly, glancing at me as he wiped his clammy hands on his jeans. I could see Darry leaning on the windowsill on the porch with Two-Bit, smiling encouragingly whenever Pony peeked his way. Then that smile would fade the second Pone glanced away, replaced with worry lines as he talked in an undertone with Two-Bit.

I sighed, reaching into the cabinet and pulling out what I thought was vanilla at the time. That was the special ingredient that mum always put in her pancakes to make them extra good. I smiled at the memory, pouring a stream of the liquid into the bowl. Not really paying attention on my cooking job, I kept focused on my little brother. I absently poured the batter out, flipping the pancakes when they sizzled and trying not to trip over my own feet.

Finally, the pancakes were done. Not looking down, I slid then onto a plate, gathering a stack of smaller plates and cracking open the fridge to retrieve a bottle of syrup. I closed my eyes and breathed in, loving the simple smell of pancakes, steaming hot. Smiling slightly, I walked into the dining room and threw everything on the table.

"COME AND GET IT!" I shouted before remembering that there was a government worker in our house and that she might not like being shouted at like a bunch of cows. The gang was used to it, but then again Two-Bit didn't mind eating food off the floor. Our idea of normal was slightly messed up.

"Er- I mean…." I stammered, "Lunch is..um…served?" Groaning silently, I heard the screen door slam as Two-Bit and Darry walked inside, bringing the smells of spring in with them. Sarah's footsteps click-clacked against the kitchen floor as she joined them, followed by Pony's shuffling feet right behind her. Pony walked like a a greaser that had just been told he had to take ballet. I grabbed him just as he was about to pass me in the doorway and yanked him back into the kitchen, saying, "forgot forks, sorry," over my shoulder to Sarah, who looked suspicious as she seated herself as far as possible from Two-Bit, who was waggling his eyebrows at her, ignoring Darry's promised death threats.

As I grabbed a handful of forks and a jug of water I muttered to Pony, "You alright?"

"Yeah," he said quietly, not meeting my eyes as he took the forks gently from me and headed back to the dining room, his head hanging like a scolded puppy's.

All of a sudden, I heard Two-Bit's hoot of laughter and Darry's mortified moan from the dining room. Frowning, I walked back into the room, setting the water on the table with a bang. Putting my hands on my hips, I raised an eyebrow at what I was seeing. Darry had his head in his hands as Two-Bit chortled into Pony's shoulder. Sarah pursed her lips in distaste, busing herself with reapplying her ugly red lipstick and checking her reflection in a tiny mirror. Pony bit his lip to hold back his laughter and smiled for the first time in two weeks, winking at me. I winked back but had no idea what was so funny. Was I really that bad of a cook?

"Something wrong with the food?" I asked the table at large, refusing to meet the social worker's eyes. In my mind, if I pretended she didn't exist, I might be able to live through this visit without blowing up at her.

"Ah-no, Soda, it tastes fine," Darry said shortly, glancing at Sarah before giving me a half smile, "but I was just wondering why my lunch is dyed purple, like everybody else's." When Dar said that, Two-Bit let out a fresh howl of laughter, pounding the table so hard the forks clattered.

Then I looked at the food for the first time, and my hands flew to my mouth in shock. Somehow, I had managed to turn the pancakes a bright, shocking purple. My eyes widened and I trembled with trying to hold in a burst of laughter.

"Ok…nobody eat them, ok?" I managed to get out. "Just…lemme make sure I didn't poison them or nuthin'," I called over my shoulder as I turned.

Sarah's eyes widened in mute horror and I could imagine what she was going to write down on our report: Middle child so scatterbrained that poisons food? They keep poison in their kitchen?

I walked back to the kitchen to the soundtrack of Two-Bit's laughter and began searching among the pileup of ingredients on the counter, two at a time. Finally, three minutes later, I found what I was looking for.

Bursting back into the room, I silently held up a bottle of purple food coloring. Two-Bit, who had just calmed down, burst out into laughter once more. I noticed that all of his mis-colored pancakes were eaten, along with Pony's and Dar's, but the social worker hadn't touched hers.

"I...I guess I thought it was vanilla," I explained with a shrug, sticking the bottle into my pocket. Pony laughed, shocking us all. When he did, the first smile I had seen from Darry lately spread across his face. Two-Bit reached out and tugged me down into a chair, passing me a plate. I loaded my plate up, suddenly real hungry.

Sarah stood up and tucked her purse back under her arm. We all stopped breathing as she surveyed us, her eyes darting over me, then Pone, then Dar. Then we all relaxed as she said softly, "This is a….strange home, but I can see that you are all very happy here together. I shall be making a good report back to the state of Oklahoma." And with that she walked out of the room. None of us talked until we had heard the screen door slam behind her, and her high heeled sounds fade, then her engine start up as she drove away.

Then the tiny room exploded with laughter.

"Soda." I stirred, still in my memory. I didn't want to wake….didn't want to go back to the real world.

Pony hugged me tightly, almost dipping his elbow in a pile of syrup. Laughing, I swiped some of it onto my finger and smeared it onto his nose.

"Sodapop?" A different voice than the first one called.

"Mppphgm." I said sleepily, flopping over and ignoring the nagging. I was soooo tired….and my head felt like someone had hit me with a bottle.

Darry walked around the table while Two-Bit watched, his eyes glinting happily. He slung an arm around each of our shoulders and-

"Sodapop Cutis! Get your ass UP!" A female shouted, sounding spitting mad.

I fell off the couch with a thud, my hand hitting the coffee table. Ouch. I winced as my eyes flew open and I looked up blearily to see a very angry, very dirty, Darry standing by Mrs. Matthews. Steve and Two-Bit were both still asleep in the chairs, their heads limp and their mouths open. I smiled slightly before rubbing my eyes with the hand that wasn't throbbing in time with my head.

"Hiya, Kathy," I said sleepily. "Hey, Dar. Where you been? Why're you so…dirty?"

Darry's mouth opened and closed like a guppy out of water. Darry never ran out of things to say, so this was quite rare. I carefully pulled myself up and staggered a bit, catching myself on the back of Two-Bit's chair. I reached down and shook Two-Bit roughly, slapping him on the back of the head.

"Hey, Bit," I said, trying to stay out of Darry's swinging range. "Two-Bit, your…uh- mother is here."

Two-Bit stretched, opening his eyes up slowly and yawning, his jaw popping. He rubbed his head and stood up, coming face to face with his mom.

"Wha? Mom? What are you doing he-" he began, strutting toward her with a half-smile on his face.

Crack

Kathy had hit him across the face with a car magazine from our coffee table as hard as she could. Two-Bit blinked, a red welt rising on his cheek. He raised his hand to his cheek just as she swung her arm back to hit him again. Tow-Bit was slightly quicker though, and ducked his head into his arms, letting his hands and forearms take most of the hits.

"Ouch! Jesus, woman!" he yelled, tripping over the rug in his hurry to run away.

"You-get-BACK-here- NOW!" Kathy screeched, swinging at every inch of her son that she could reach. I watched in amusement, now wide awake. Mrs. Matthews was one strong woman, I'd give her that. I chuckled, still keeping one eye on Dar. I knew the second the guys and Kathy cleared out, he'd blow up. The only question was, how bad would the explosion be?

Two-Bit hopped out of Kathy's range, landing on Steve. Steve woke with a yell, trying to stand up but not quite managing it, considering Two-Bit was now sitting on him, cowering. Steve, sputtering in rage, tried to push Two-Bit off him, but Two-Bit wasn't budging.

"Call her off!" Two-Bit screeched at Darry, now using a very red faced and confused Steve as his shield. I roared with laughter, holding my stomach. I hadn't laughed this hard in a long time, and it felt really good. I looked up at Darry, hoping some of his inner-ice man had melted away by now. He glanced down at me, his eyes were steely. I sighed. Okay, no hope to get off free. I turned back to enjoy the last of the show, before my oncoming punishment was slapped onto me with iron-clad rules.

"Please! Ouch, woman! Leave me alone!!" Two-Bit pleased, finally getting off Steve and hiding behind his leather jacket.

"NO NOTE! You were GONE! You could've died!" Kathy paused in the middle of her rant and looked at me and Steve, her red hair hanging in front of her eyes and her cheeks red with anger. "It's very nice to see you both alive and in one piece, but please let me know next time before kidnapping my son for some evil deed, ok boys?"

We nodded, Steve rubbing his head and glaring at Two-Bit. I looked at him, a smile tugging on the sides of my mouth.

Kathy nodded, satisfied. Then, her hand darting out suddenly, she grabbed Two-Bit by the ear and dragged him toward the door. He tried to push her but, glowering up at him, she shook her finger and twisted his ear. Two-Bit howled in pain and walked out the door and down the porch with her, grumbling the whole way.

I walked to the screen door and stepped outside for a minute, waving goodbye. Then I walked in to see Darry sitting on the couch, his fingers laced together. I exchanged a nervous look with Steve.

"See ya?" he asked, his eyes concerned. I might have known without a doubt that Dar would never hit me, but Steve only went off his own experience. He didn't like to be touched, not even by his girlfriend. I had only seen him hug Evie once. He was so jumpy sometimes it scared me, wondering what his dad had done to him.

"Tuff enough," I said back softly, saluting him jokingly. Steve smiled, and with one last long look at Darry, he walked out the door and down the street, his head down and his hands stuffed in his pockets.

I turned around, breathing deeply.

"Listen, Dar," I began, fisting my hands in my hair. The silence was so thick it felt like a brick wall. I went to sit down by him, but froze when I heard him sniff. I felt my tongue stick in my mouth and my face heat up.

Darry was crying.

I awkwardly stretched my hand out to him, and then took it back, sitting down on the edge of my chair. I ain't good at this; I don't know what to say when Darry cries! I thought in a panic, looking around for a box of tissues, something I could give him. I hadn't seen Darry break down since the day Pony asked if he was gonna send us to the Orphanage of Tulsa. Then he broke down and bawled like a baby, hugging us both so tight I thought my ribs were gonna break. This time was different, though. This time there tears were only for me, and because of me.

I threw all caution to the wind and scooted over so that our legs were touching, and hesitantly put my arms around his bent shoulders.

"Dar?" I said softly. He didn't answer, but he hunched his shoulders more and the shaking increased, along with the sniffing. I leaned my cheek against his shoulder, feeling small. I didn't know how to heal him. With Pony, it was a hug, a smile, a cuff on the head, and his smile would come back. Ponyboy just wanted to be loved, I knew that. But Darry…..Darry was a totally different story. He had always been the oldest, and the strongest.

He taught me everything I knew, but yet I didn't know how to make him smile, or cheer him up. Pony's heart was easy to fix, because I knew him inside and out. Darrel Jr., on the other hand, was like a old abandoned house I couldn't get into without tearing it down. It might take me some time to sneak in, watching out for the weak spots. But I would, for Darry.

"Darry, I am really sorry, I am…" I said, tightening my arm around him and reaching for the box of tissues on the side table, half hidden by a stack of coffee mugs.

He finally looked up at me, his eyes red. Darry smiled a little, wrapping an arm around me and resting his cheek on top of my head. He half sighed, half laughed as he rubbed his arm roughly across his eyes then looked straight at me, the softness melting and the steely-eyed brother I knew showing through. Inside, I let out my breath in a whoosh. Dar would take care of everything.

"You never do that again, you hear?" he said, shaking his finger in my direction. "Jesus Christ am I glad Pone doesn't run off like that yet…" Dar trailed off, his hand pausing on my head. Then he did smile at me, getting up slowly and groaning.

"Damn, I would kill for a cuppa joe. Whaddya say we run to Lucky's before we go get Pone, ok?" he said, snatching up his keys as he checked his reflection, frowning as he tried to rub dirt off his nose.

I did a double take. "We- we can go get Pony today?" I asked, hardly daring to hope. He nodded, smiling as he passed by me to grab a t-shirt, changing quickly and shoving his shoes on. I whooped, jumping up excitedly.

"Man, oh man!" I yelled, almost damn near popping a blood vessel, I was so excited.

He laughed as he picked me up, fireman style and jogged out to his rusty old pickup truck, throwing me in the passenger seat.

"Let's go, little buddy," he chuckled as he started the ignition.

I nodded and grinned, propping my feet on the dash and sticking my head out the window to enjoy the cool spring breeze that was blowin' past my face. Ponyboy was coming home, Darry hadn't killed me, and I didn't have to worry about anyone every hurting my baby brother again.

Today might not be such a bad Sunday after all.

A/N: Hey guys! I am sorry I haven't been updating in such a long time, but life, what can ya do? Hopefully I will be able to post more often now that my finals are almost done with. Than you for reading and reviewing, it means so much. And a big stack of neon purple pancakes to my lovely Beta, Lo. Taylor. Without her, this chapter honestly wouldn't be very easy on the eyes. She taught me sometimes less describing words are really more. Thanks! Also, this chapter is dedicated to The Diamond in The Rocks. I hope it was ok I used your name, and didn't do anything with it that wasn't great *winks*. Please R&R, and I hope you enjoyed!

-Kait

P.S- Reviewing gets you Sodapop with a plate of purple pancakes!!! : D