I'm so sorry it took so long to update! Work has been crazy. I thought supply teaching would die down in the last few weeks of school, but I've been booked solid. I literally walk into a school and have people hounding me to work, and people keep asking me to work at my other job, too. There's only 4 days left of the school year, though, so hopefully I'll get more time to write. Hopefully.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
I spent Monday trying in vain to distract myself from thoughts of what would happen that evening. Pony and I went to the DX to visit Steve, who was working mostly day shifts during the summer. We watched him work on the cars for a while and chatted with Brad, the supervisor. He was a real nice guy and he'd said he'd do his best to have a job waiting for me when I was ready to come back. After lunch, Pony read Lord of the Rings to me for a while. It was useless though. I liked hearing him read, but I couldn't keep my mind focused. Finally, I gave up and watched game shows on TV, waiting for Darry to come home to take me to the hospital. We'd decided to keep doing the treatments at 5:30 so that Darry could be home with me most nights. I hated that he'd have to take care of me after he'd worked all day, but I had to admit that I really wanted him there with me. Besides, he's the one who'd insisted on the time, and there was no arguing with Darry once he'd made up his mind.
When I heard our truck pull into the driveway, my stomach clenched. Pony, who'd been keeping me company on the couch, glanced up as Darry came through the door. "You guys ready to go?" Darry asked. I got up and put my shoes on without a word. Darry put a hand gently on my shoulder as I passed him, silently asking me if I was okay. I nodded and headed out to the truck.
When we got to the hospital we were shown to a room to wait for Dr. Sheldon. It wasn't the same room as I'd had last time, but it might as well have been. It had the same equipment and the same plain white walls. It made me suddenly thankful again for my newly decorated room at home. We weren't there long before Dr. Sheldon came in. "Good evening. How have you been this week, Soda?" he asked kindly. I think what I liked best about him was that I could tell he actually cared about my answer.
"Pretty good, I guess. I've still been real tired, but mostly okay otherwise."
"Good, I'm glad to hear that. Were you eating well?"
I shrugged. "I've been eating, but I still haven't been hungry. Except Friday," I added brightly. I smiled as I remembered actually enjoying a meal for a change instead of forcing myself to eat.
He chuckled at that. "Alright, let's get going so you can go home. I've had you lie down for a few hours after the last couple times you had this procedure, but since this one will be giving you the chemotherapy, I'm going to send you right home. Hopefully that way you can be settled in before your symptoms start." I grimaced, not wanting to think about that part. I lay down and got myself ready. I figured there wasn't any point in putting it off. Dr. Sheldon got right to it and after a minute I felt the numbing needle go into my back. I couldn't imagine doing this without it. I closed my eyes while the second needle injected the drugs, holding tight to the hands offered by Darry and Pony. Since Dr. Sheldon didn't have to remove any fluid this time, the needle didn't stay in as long as before. After a few seconds, I felt it come out and I sighed in relief.
As Dr. Sheldon put away his equipment, I sat up and got myself ready to go. Like he'd said, I wanted to be home before I started feeling sick. "That's all for today, Soda. Make sure you rest while you're at home, even if you're feeling okay. You'll have good days, but you're also going to have bad days, just like last time, and you need to keep your body as strong as possible to prepare for those."
"Don't worry, he'll take it easy." I glared at Darry, but I wasn't really mad. I liked that he was here during all this. When we got home I went straight to my room and pulled the drapes down. My head was already pounding and I was starting to feel queasy. I took my street clothes off and was halfway through putting on my pajamas when my stomach rebelled. I made it across the room to the garbage can and immediately threw up. When I was done, I sat on the floor and leaned back against the bed to catch my breath. My stomach was still turning and Pony came into the room just in time to see me throw up again. As he put an arm around my shoulders and I struggled for control, my spirits dropped; it was going to be a long two weeks.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
Darry and I were in the kitchen getting dinner ready. We figured Soda wouldn't be able to keep much down, but we were both getting pretty hungry. Soda had gone off to our room right away and we'd let him go, hoping he would just fall asleep. We'd barely started chopping up vegetables when we heard him get sick. Darry started to move towards the hall, but I stopped him. "It's okay Dare. I'll go."
"You sure, kiddo?" I think he wanted to protect me as much as he could.
"Yeah. You're the better cook, anyway," I told him. I was relieved when he nodded and went back to work. I didn't want him to feel like he always had to be the one to take care of Soda. When I opened our bedroom door, I saw Soda on the ground in just his pajama bottoms, leaning against the bed with his eyes closed. Just as I joined him he leaned over the garbage can. I rubbed his back, knowing it wouldn't do much good, but wanting to do what I could, anyway. When he'd finished, I asked gently, "Do you want help getting into bed?"
He shook his head. "'S'okay. I can make it that far."
He shakily got up and I quickly pulled the covers back for him. When he'd settled in I covered him up and sat down on the edge of the bed. I noticed how dark it was in the room and looked at him in concern. "How's your head?"
"It's fine."
"Soda," I said sternly. I knew he hadn't pulled the drapes cause of his stomach.
He sighed. "It's throbbing," he admitted. He opened his eyes and looked at me. "I can smell dinner cooking. You should go eat."
"I'm good right here," I insisted.
"I'll be fine, Pone." When I still didn't move, he sighed. "Look, I'll call you guys if I need you, okay?"
I looked at him doubtfully, not sure if he would really call us or if he would try and ride out his symptoms on his own. Finally, I got up to leave, figuring we were right down the hall. Besides, I needed to eat sometime. "How is he?" Darry asked as I went back into the kitchen.
"He's got a headache," I told him. "He's real tired, too. He had trouble standing up."
Darry sighed and rubbed his face. "We'll have to keep an eye on him. I don't want him hurting himself if he tries to get up when we're not there." I nodded, agreeing with him. I wasn't sure how we were going to convince Soda to let us stay with him all the time, though. I know he'd liked our company in the hospital, but now that he was at home he wasn't gonna like people hovering over him, especially on his better days. When we'd finished dinner, I cleaned up the dishes while Darry went to check on Soda. He came back quickly. "He's asleep," he informed me. I was glad to hear that news. At least he didn't feel sick when he was asleep.
Later that night I woke up out of a deep sleep. I sat up and looked around, confused for a minute about why I'd woken up. Then I heard Soda moan, followed by the sounds of him getting sick. "Oh, Soda," I murmured, leaning over and rubbing his back again; I felt his body shake under my hand. The door opened and a bit of light poured in from the hall. Darry came in and knelt next to our bed, gently putting a cool cloth on Soda's forehead once he was lying back down.
"Go back to bed, Darry," Soda whispered. "You've gotta work tomorrow." His eyes were closed and I could see in the dim light that his face was pale and covered in sweat. Darry ignored the request and Soda didn't ask again. It was only a minute before his breathing evened out and he fell back to sleep. Darry got up, squeezed my shoulder, and left the room. I sighed, curling up with my arm around my sleeping brother.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
I found Ponyboy sitting on the couch waiting for me when I walked into the Curtis house on Saturday afternoon. It was time for Sodapop to go to the hospital and I was the only one able to take him. Pony had found a few lawns to mow, but he'd also managed to pick up some babysitting jobs. He'd been asked to watch a couple of kids from down the street tonight and he hadn't wanted to turn down the money. Steve was working and Darry had to pick up groceries on his way home from work. He'd considered putting it off, but I'd told him I was good taking Soda tonight. I'd seen their fridge and it was pretty much empty. "Hey, kid," I said, smiling at him. "Where's Soda? We need to get goin'."
"I think he's still asleep," Pony responded. "You gonna to be okay getting him there? I'm supposed to be at the Johnson's in a few minutes…" He trailed off and I could see his reluctance to leave his brother.
"What, you think I can't handle a quick drive downtown and back?" I asked in mock hurt. Ponyboy glared at me and I sighed. "Look kid," I said seriously. "Soda'll be fine with me. I'll get him back here in one piece and Darry should be home by then. Those Johnson kids are little hellions, so don't you spend your night worrying about us here. We'll be fine."
He rolled his eyes at me. "Gee, thanks Two-Bit. I feel much better now."
I grinned and ruffled his hair, earning a punch to the arm. As Pony left the house, I walked down the hall to his and Soda's room. Sure enough, I found Sodapop fast asleep. I sat down on the edge of the bed and gently shook him awake. He opened his eyes and looked at me groggily. "Hey, Two-Bit. Whatcha doing here?"
"It's time to go to the hospital." He looked at the clock, saw I was right, and groaned.
"Alright. Let's get this over with so I can go back to sleep." He slowly sat up and grabbed a pair of socks from the floor. He swayed a little when he stood up and I leaned out an arm to offer him support.
"You okay, buddy?" I thought he was usually feeling pretty good around this time of day since a lot of the medicine was out of system.
"Yeah, I'm just tired." He didn't sound very convincing, but I kept my mouth shut. If he said he was okay, who was I to argue? When he'd gotten his shoes on we went outside to my car and started for the hospital. I found a close parking space, which was helpful cause I had to help Soda into the building. The poor guy was practically falling asleep on his feet. There were some wheelchairs by the front doors and when I offered him one he sat without hesitation. I didn't comment, but his reaction, or lack of reaction, had me worried. I knew he hated being wheeled around like an invalid and for him not to argue about it was a first as far as I knew.
We met Dr. Sheldon when we stepped out of the elevator and he showed us to the room where Soda would get his treatment. "Nice to see you again, Two-Bit," he said to me as I helped a half asleep Soda onto the bed. The first time we'd talked, the doc had tried to call me Keith, but I'd put a stop to that real fast. "Soda, are you ready?" he asked. Soda mumbled something unintelligible, which I guess the doctor took as a yes. I sat down next to Soda while Dr. Sheldon got to work. I'd never seen this part of the treatment and I was shocked when I saw the size of the needle he was going to use. No wonder Soda had been so upset about it. Soda seemed to wake up as the needle went into his back and I saw a look of pain flash across his face.
"So, Pony's lookin' after the Johnson's tonight," I said, trying to distract him. "How much do ya wanna bet they destroy the house while he's there?" The Johnson boys were five and eight and were both hell on wheels already.
Soda laughed weakly. "As long as they don't burn it down, he should be okay." He started to relax and I saw Dr. Sheldon start putting his stuff away.
"Can I take him home now?" I was surprised at how fast the whole thing was.
"Yes, he's all finished for today," he said, leaving the room. Soda, who was much more awake now, sat up and got ready to go.
I brought the wheelchair over to the bed and Soda eyed it darkly. "Aw, c'mon Two-Bit. Darry's not here and I can walk," he complained.
"Now that sounds much more like the Sodapop Curtis I know." I was relieved he wasn't so out of it now. "But, if I let you walk and Darry finds out, he'll skin me. You wouldn't want that on your conscience, would ya?" Soda gave me a death glare, but he climbed off the bed and took a seat in the wheelchair anyway. He made it from the front doors to the car himself, but I made sure to stay right next to him in case he needed help. Everything seemed to be going okay till we were a few blocks from his house. Soda suddenly doubled over in the seat next to me and grabbed his head. "Soda?" I questioned, not sure what was going on. He'd been fine a second ago. "Buddy, you okay?"
"It's my head," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I need—I need the pain meds." Shit. I didn't have any of those with me.
"We're almost there. Just hang on another couple minutes, okay?" Soda groaned in response. I sped up, then cursed as the light ahead of me turned red. I would've risked a ticket, but the traffic was too heavy for me to try running the light. I didn't need to get us into an accident on top of everything else. While I waited impatiently for the light to change, or at least for the traffic to slow enough for me to get through, I put a hand on Soda's back. He was still doubled over and I could hear his breath coming in gasps. As soon as the light turned green I slammed on the gas. I drove the last three blocks at speeds that would have made Dallas proud and pulled into the Curtis' driveway with a loud screech. Darry's truck was already there and he was unloading groceries from the front seat. "We're here Soda. Just sit tight and I'll be right back." He didn't answer and I didn't wait.
"Two-Bit, what's going on?" Darry demanded when I jumped out of the car.
"It's Soda. He's having another episode." I heard Darry curse and from the corner of my eye I saw him rush over to the passenger side of my car. I was already racing into the house. I ran down the hall to Soda and Pony's room, yanked open the nightstand drawer and quickly found what I needed. When I'd filled the syringe with the right amount of liquid I ran back outside. Darry had managed to get Soda out of the car, but not much further. Soda had collapsed on the lawn and was curled into a ball around Darry's arm, who was kneeling next to him. Soda was still holding his head with one hand and had the other latched onto Darry's arm so tight his knuckles were turning white. From the bit of his face I could see, he had tears streaming down his cheeks. I yanked up his shirt sleeve and pushed the needle into his arm. When all the liquid had gone into his vein, I sat back and waited impatiently for it to start working. I was cursing myself for not thinking to bring any with me in the first place. I'd never seen his breakthrough pain get this bad; we'd always gotten the drugs into him right away.
Darry had his free arm around Soda's back, cradling him protectively. It took a couple of minutes, but finally Soda's breathing turned from ragged to more even. He let go of his head and loosened his grip on Darry's arm some, who took advantage of this to turn Soda around and hold him more securely. Soda responded by grabbing onto Darry's shirt and burying his face in the material. "It's okay, little buddy," I heard Darry whisper. "It's over now. It's okay." Soda let out a small sob and I started to feel even guiltier. If I'd just brought the meds with us in the first place, he wouldn't be feeling like this. Gently, Darry stood up with Soda curled up in his arms. "Two-Bit, can you get the door for me?" he asked, not taking his eyes off his brother. I silently got up and let them in the house.
When I'd closed the door behind them, I sat down on the porch steps, at a loss for what to do. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, I felt stunned by what had just happened. I'd seen people jumped and I used to see Johnny in pain from his dad's beatings all the time, but this was different. Soda hadn't been hurt by a person; he'd been hurt by his own body. It had happened so fast I couldn't believe it.
I sat like this for a few minutes, dazed, until I noticed Darry's truck was still open. I went over and started to bring the groceries into the house. By the time Darry came out of Soda's room again, I'd brought everything inside and put it away. I was leaning against the counter, trying to decide what to do next.
"I'm so sorry, Darry," I said quietly as he sat down at the kitchen table and put his head in his hands.
He looked up at me, surprised. "For what?"
"For not taking Soda's medicine with us. That's why he got so bad."
Darry shook his head and gave me a tired smile, which surprised me. I thought he'd be pissed. "It's not your fault, Two-Bit. None of us have been taking it with us to the hospital. I never thought about him having an episode in the car. Don't blame yourself."
I was relieved he wasn't upset, but I still felt awful. "How is he?" I asked hesitantly.
Darry sighed and looked down the hall. "He's not good. He still has a migraine and he's feeling pretty lousy otherwise, too. I'm gonna stay with him, make sure he doesn't need anything." He got up and started to head back to Soda's room. "Can you stay for a while, Two-Bit, just in case?"
"Of course," I agreed immediately. I wanted to do what I could to help.
"Thanks," Darry said, and he disappeared down the hall.
I turned the TV on low volume and settled down on the couch, but I didn't pay much attention to what was on. I kept chewing myself out, even though Darry had said not to worry about it. I may be lazy and irresponsible sometimes, but I can use my head when I need to and I should've thought to bring Soda's stuff with me. I vowed not to make that mistake again.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
I quietly opened the door to Soda's room, trying to make as little noise as possible. I didn't want to aggravate his headache more. I took a seat in the armchair by the bed, which I'd dragged in from the living room earlier in the week. He opened his eyes as I sat down. "Hey, Darry." His voice was barely even a whisper.
"Hey little buddy," I said softly, leaning forward and taking his hand. "Feeling any better?"
"A little. It still hurts. And I'm tired." He closed his eyes again as he said this.
"Go to sleep, Soda. You'll feel better when you wake up." I hoped I wasn't lying to him, but right then my main priority was getting him to rest.
"Mmm," was all I got as a reply. I listened as his breathing evened out into the steady rhythm of sleep and I leaned back again, hoping to get a bit of rest myself. There wasn't much hope of that, though. I'd barely started to drift off when I was jerked awake by the sound of Soda moaning.
"What is it?" Soda answered me by leaning over and getting sick in the garbage can. I moved over to sit on the edge of the bed and starting rubbing circles on his back. When he was finished, he lay back down and curled into a ball.
"Darry, can I have more pain medicine?"
I hesitated. "I'm not sure, Soda. Let me go phone the hospital. I don't want to overdose you or you'll just feel worse."
I got up to leave, but he grabbed my hand before I could completely stand up. I looked back at him, not sure what was wrong now. "You won't be long, will you?" he asked timidly.
I felt my heart skip a beat at the fragility in his voice. He sounded just like he had when he was six and had the measles. I'd stayed with him while dad was at work and mom was making dinner. He'd been curled up on his side then, too, and anytime I'd tried to get up for anything he would latch onto me and beg me to stay. "No, I won't be long, Pepsi-Cola. I'll be back as soon as I talk to the doctor." He nodded slightly and let go of my hand.
I had the number for the hospital right next to the phone in the living room just in case we needed it in a hurry. Two-Bit watched me as I came into the room and started dialing, curious about what I was doing. I knew he was feeling bad about what had happened, but I really didn't blame him at all. I'd never even thought about needing Soda's medicine in the car, or anywhere else, either. I knew we were going to have to start carrying it with us everywhere from now on. I waited while the phone rang until someone finally picked up. "Tulsa General Hospital, how may I direct your call?" a woman answered abruptly.
"I need to speak to Dr. Sheldon." I waited impatiently as she put me on hold; I knew Soda was waiting for me to come back. I heard him get sick down the hall and my own stomach dropped. Two-Bit got up from the couch and headed towards my brother's room; I smiled at his retreating back, relieved that Two-Bit and been able to stick around so that Soda wouldn't be alone for the next few minutes. I started tapping my foot as I listened to the hold music, hoping I wouldn't be waiting long. The minutes stretched on until I finally heard a click on the other end.
"This is Dr. Sheldon speaking."
"Hello, sir," I said politely. He was an efficient man and I knew he hadn't kept me waiting any longer than he'd had to. "It's Darrel Curtis calling about Sodapop."
"Hello Darrel. What's the problem?"
"Well, he had an episode of breakthrough pain on the way home from the hospital and he didn't have his meds with him. He's got them now, but he says his head still hurts real bad. Can I give him another dose of the stronger pain meds, or will that hurt him?"
"When is he due for his next dose of regular medication?"
"Umm…" I glanced at the clock; it was 6:40. "Not for another two and half hours."
Dr. Sheldon sighed. "It's better if he can wait. Try and get him through the next couple of hours. If he can't manage, give him 1cc, just to tide him over, but not closer than one hour before he's due for his regular meds, unless he has another episode. Okay?"
"Alright, I understand. Thank you doctor."
"You're welcome, Darrel. I hope Soda feels better."
"Me, too. Thanks." I hung up the phone, disappointed. I'd been hoping I could just give Soda what he wanted so he'd feel better. I considered giving him the partial dose anyway, but I figured that there was probably a reason Dr. Sheldon had said to only do it if we really had to.
I made my way back down the hall. When I opened the door I found Two-Bit sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a damp cloth to Soda's forehead. Two-Bit looked up when I came in and immediately stood up so I could take his place. I smiled my thanks at him and as he left the room I turned my attention to Soda. He'd opened his eyes and was looking at me hopefully. "What did the doctor say?" he asked.
I sighed and reached my hand over to squeeze his shoulder. "He said it's better if we wait," I told him sympathetically. I wished I had a different answer to give him.
I saw his eyes fill with disappointment, but he nodded his head anyway. "I kinda figured," he admitted. "How's Two-Bit? He seemed upset."
"He feels guilty about what happened."
Soda frowned. "He shouldn't. It's not his fault."
"I tried telling him that, but you know that guy; you can't knock any sense into him." Soda started to laugh, then winced and closed his eyes. "Shh," I whispered, crawling over him and lying down. I pulled him into my arms and he turned over and curled into me. I rubbed the back of his head—I still hadn't gotten used to how smooth it was—and continued to soothe him. "Just rest, Soda. You'll feel better soon." I felt the front of my shirt dampen and I held Soda tighter.
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~
Hope you enjoyed! I've had that scene with Two-Bit in my head for weeks and it was nice to finally get to write it. Thanks so much to everyone who's been reviewing! :)