Thanks again to everyone who's been reviewing, and to all the new people who reviewed the last couple of chapters!
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I watched my little brother, who was curled up on his side, apparently asleep. I was thirsty, so I decided to go to the kitchen for a glass of water. I'd been sitting in the armchair Dad had pulled into the room and I stood up to leave. The second I did, though, I felt a hand on my arm. I looked down at Soda who was staring at me with wide, fearful eyes. "Where're you going, Darry?" he asked.
I sighed. He'd done this every time I'd tried to leave the room. I'd been watching him for over an hour and I was bored. "I'm thirsty. I'm going to get a glass of water." Soda's eyes welled with tears and I started to feel guilty. I remembered how sick I'd felt when I'd had the measles. "I'll be right back, okay Sodapop?"
"You promise?" Soda asked tearfully.
"Yeah, I promise." I felt his grip loosen and, relieved, I pulled my arm away and left the room. Mom looked up from the stove when I went into the kitchen.
"How's he doing?" she asked.
I shrugged. "The same. Mom, how much longer do I have to watch him? Me and Two-Bit were gonna play football." I knew I sounded whiny, but I was bored.
"'Two-Bit and I', dear." I rolled my eyes. Mom was always trying to make us talk better. She put down the spoon she'd been using to stir the pot of soup and knelt down so we were eye to eye. "Darry, you're Sodapop's big brother. He needs you to watch out for him, especially right now. Can you do that for me?"
I looked down at my feet. Mom sure had a way of making us do what she wanted. "Yeah, I guess so."
"Good. I knew I could count on you." She stood up and ruffled my hair. "You're getting to be such a big boy." She smiled at me and I beamed back proudly. I loved being told I was grown up.
Mom turned back to the stove and I got a glass out of the cupboard. When I'd filled it with water from the sink, I headed back down the hall to Soda's room. I could hear him coughing before I even opened the door and I suddenly felt bad for leaving him. He smiled at me when he saw me and I grinned back at him. "Hey, little buddy," I said, sitting back down in the armchair. Soda opened his mouth to say something, but went into a coughing fit instead. "Easy, Sodapop. Don't try to talk." When he'd calmed down, he stared at me sadly, but didn't say anything. I guess he was afraid he'd start coughing again. I pushed his hair back from his forehead and cringed at how hot he was. He'd had a fever the past two days and I knew it was making him feel lousy. Mom had left a cloth and a bowl of cold water beside the bed; I dipped the cloth in the water, then lay it on Soda's head.
"Thanks, Darry. I love you," Soda mumbled, half asleep.
I smiled at my little brother. "I love you too, Sodapop." I guess taking care of him for a while wasn't so bad.
I was shaken out of my memory by the sound of the bedroom door opening. Ponyboy walked in quietly, trying not to wake Soda, who'd fallen asleep in my arms. I looked over at the clock, surprised to see that it was already after eleven. "Hey, kiddo," I whispered. "How were the Johnson kids?"
Pony made a face and sat down on the edge of the bed. "A nightmare. Somehow they got their hands on some paint and ended up smearing it all over the floor. When I finally got them to go to sleep it took me the whole rest of the night to get the place cleaned up." I chuckled, earning a punch to the arm. "It's not funny," Pony muttered.
"Sorry, Pone," I apologized, trying my best to keep a straight face. I knew those kids really were awful and I didn't envy Pony at all for having to spend the night with them.
"How was Soda tonight?" Pony asked, watching our brother sleep.
I was about to lie, or at least gloss over the truth, but stopped myself. I studied my youngest brother for a few seconds before answering. He'd really grown up over the past year. He wasn't an innocent little kid anymore. "He had a real bad episode on the way home from the hospital. He had a migraine the rest of the night and got sick a few times. He fell asleep a couple hours ago, after he took his pain meds."
In the dim light I saw Pony frown at the first part of the news. "He looks peaceful now," he observed. He was right. Soda was resting quietly for now and I hoped it would stay that way. Pony quickly changed, then crawled into bed on my other side. I put my arm around him and he curled up, draping an arm over my stomach and resting his hand on Soda's side. Soda stirred a little at this, but stayed asleep. Pony fell asleep almost as soon as soon as he was settled but I lay awake for a long time, listening to the gentle breathing of both my brothers. I didn't need Mom's guilt trips anymore to make me take care of them. Now there was nothing in the world that would make me willingly leave their sides as long as they needed me.
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"Soda. Soda, it's time to wake up." I groaned as the voice brought me out of the peacefulness of sleep. My eyelids felt like they weighed a ton, but with some effort I managed to open them. I found Darry sitting on the edge of my bed, watching me with concern. "How ya feelin', little buddy?" He put a hand to my forehead to check my temperature. Dr. Sheldon had done a blood test on Wednesday to see how the chemo was working and hadn't been satisfied with what he saw. He said the treatment was still working, but not fast enough. On Thursday he'd added a new drug to my treatment. He'd warned us that it might give me symptoms of the flu—fever, chills and muscle pains—and boy had he been right. I'd spent Thursday and Friday nights tossing and turning, cold one minute and hot the next.
"I'm feelin' just peachy." I groaned again as I answered Darry. I regretted my sarcasm when I noticed that he looked dog-tired himself. He'd been up most of the past two nights with me and had pulled double shifts Thursday and Friday, plus he'd worked today. I wished he'd get some sleep and let Pony look after me by himself, but he kept insisting he was fine. Darry was more stubborn than he'd ever admit. I looked over at the clock on my nightstand and saw it really was time to get up. I took a deep breath and sat up.
Even though it was afternoon I still wasn't feeling too great. I guess it was cause of the new meds. Darry helped me get my shoes on and I stood up slowly, testing myself. It was a good thing I did cause the room started spinning. I felt Darry's arm around me and then felt the bed under me again. "Easy, Soda. We'll go slow, there's no rush." I nodded a little. After sitting for a couple of minutes, I started to feel more stable and tried standing up again. Everything stayed where it was supposed to be, so I started walking to the door and down the hall, Darry's arm still around me for support.
Pony was already in the truck waiting for us. When I'd joined him I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I didn't feel like I had the energy to hold them open any longer. I vaguely heard Darry start the truck and then the next thing I knew he was shaking me awake. "Soda, we're here." Huh? I pried my eyes open and saw we were already at the hospital. I must've fallen asleep on the way. "You gonna make it in there?" Darry asked.
I nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." I just had to make it to the wheelchairs at the front door. That wasn't so far. I climbed out of the truck and leaned against Darry. Pony stayed on my other side, ready to offer support if I needed it. The second we reached the front doors I collapsed into the closest wheelchair. I hated using them, but I could barely stay awake, much less walk. The rest of the hospital visit was a blur. Dr. Sheldon asked a bunch of questions about how I was doing, but I was too out of it to answer most of them. Darry did most of the talking and I heard Pony chime in a few times, but their voices all came to me through a haze. After a while I felt the familiar stab of the spinal needle and was jolted awake. I cursed it for always waking me up when all I wanted to do was keep sleeping.
When Dr. Sheldon had finished, Darry helped me back into the wheelchair. I was more awake than before, but I still felt too exhausted to even try to walk. It didn't help that I knew I'd feel worse soon. Dr. Sheldon had said the flu symptoms usually lasted a few days and since this was only my third day on the meds, I wasn't holding my breath that tonight would be any better than last night. Sure enough, by the time we pulled into the driveway, I was freezing, even though it was ninety degrees outside. "C'mon, Soda," Darry said, undoing my seatbelt. "Let's get you to bed." He put an arm around me and helped me out of the truck. I made it about two steps before my legs gave out and I fell against Darry, who caught me and scooped me into his arms.
"I ain't helpless, Dare. I can walk," I tried to protest, but he ignored me. It was a lie, anyway. I couldn't have walked if someone had paid me to. When we got to my room he lay me down on the bed, and not a moment too soon. I instantly rolled over, found the garbage can, and got sick. I'd managed to eat a sandwich earlier and whatever was left of it came back up.
Pony had followed us and I felt him sit down on his side of the bed. I was even colder than I'd been in the car and now I was shivering uncontrollably. Pony covered me up with a few blankets. "Can we do anything, Soda?" he asked.
"Yeah," I managed to say. I was so cold my teeth were chattering. "Can you read, Pone?"
"Sure, Soda." I felt Pony move around a little, looking for his book, then he started to read. I tried to focus on the story and not on how sick I felt, but sometimes it was impossible. I was still shivering, even under the blankets, and every bone in my body ached like I'd just been hit by a truck. My stomach was empty, but it was still turning and every so often I'd lean over the garbage can, unable to stop my body from trying to get rid of anything that might still be left. I sighed in relief when my chills finally stopped. I tossed the blankets off, feeling warm for the first time in over an hour.
"Open up, Soda." I opened my mouth and Darry put the thermometer in. I knew the routine by now; when the chills stopped, it meant my temperature had gone up. As long as it stayed below 104.0 and I could keep some fluids down during the day, I could stay at home. I really didn't want to go back to the hospital. After a minute Darry took the thermometer out and smiled at what he saw. "100.4. You're still good."
Beside me, I heard Pony's stomach rumble and he looked at me sheepishly. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry, Pone," I told him. "You need to eat. You don't need to go starve yourselves just cause I can't keep nothin' down." When he didn't move, I reached over and shoved him towards to edge of the bed. "Go get some dinner."
Pony reluctantly left the room and I turned to my older brother. "You should eat, too, Dare. And you need to get some sleep tonight. You look awful." His face was drawn and he had bags under his eyes. I wondered if he'd had more than two hour of sleep since Wednesday.
"I'm fine, Soda. You just worry about gettin' yourself better."
"I'll do that a lot better if you don't drop dead from exhaustion. You need to sleep. And don't keep saying you're fine, cause it ain't true," I warned him when I saw him start to argue.
He closed his half open mouth and sat back in the armchair, crossing his arms. "Fine. I'll go to bed once you fall asleep. I'm off tomorrow, so I can sleep in if I want."
I studied him, not sure if I believed him. "You promise?" I asked.
"Yeah, little buddy. I promise. Now be quiet and rest, okay?"
"Okay," I agreed, closing my eyes. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep, but it took too much energy to keep them open. When Ponyboy came back from the kitchen, Darry left to take his turn eating. I had come up with a plan to make sure Darry slept through the night and I turned to Pony to convince him to help me. I knew he wouldn't like it, but I was counting on being able to use the "I'm sick, so do what I want," guilt card.
"How ya feelin', Soda?" Pony asked when he saw I was awake.
"Better, for now," I said. It wasn't exactly the truth—I still felt nauseous and achy—but I needed Pony to agree to my plan and he wouldn't if he knew how sick I was still feeling. "Look, Pone, Darry needs to get some sleep tonight."
"I know, but I can't convince him to lie down," he said, sounding frustrated. "I've tried, but he keeps ignoring me."
"I know. He's ignoring me too. But I got him to promise to go to bed once I fall asleep."
Pony looked at me doubtfully. "But Soda, that might not be for hours."
I sighed. That knowledge didn't exactly thrill me. "I know. Here's my plan: I'm gonna pretend to be asleep and you're gonna make sure Darry goes to bed. Then when he's asleep, you're gonna help me get to the kitchen."
"Why would you want to go to the kitchen?" he asked, clearly confused.
"Because," I sighed, "Darry will be up again the second he hears me get sick. The kitchen is the furthest I can get from his room and I'm hoping it's far enough that he won't hear anything."
Pony's reaction was instant and was exactly what I'd expected. "Soda, no. You can't sleep on the floor all night. I'm no doctor, but that can't be healthy."
"Well, it ain't healthy for Darry to keep killing himself by taking care of me all night," I shot back. "This is the only way to make him take a break and you know it, Pony." I glared at him, knowing I was right. Darry wouldn't listen to reason. He thought he could and should do everything. I felt my stomach start turning summersaults again and I willed it to calm down. Getting sick wasn't gonna help my case right then. "Please, Pone," I begged. I knew I couldn't do this without him.
Ponyboy was silent for a couple of minutes and I waited impatiently for his answer. I was still struggling for control of my stomach and I wanted him to agree fast. Finally, he sighed and said, "Fine. But I don't like it." He sat sulking for a bit until I finally lost my battle and threw up again.
Pony wrapped an arm around me and I took his hand, taking comfort in his presence. Darry came into the room a couple minutes later, apparently having choked down his dinner as fast as he could. Arguing with Ponyboy had taken the last of my energy and I lay with my eyes closed, but I could feel Darry sit down on the bed next to me. "Dare, I'm gonna go to sleep. You promised you would, too." I kept my eyes closed while I talked, partly for dramatic effect and partly cause I honestly couldn't find the energy to open them.
"Don't worry, little buddy. I'll go as soon as you're asleep." I slowly evened out my breathing and kept still, hoping he'd believe my act. I wasn't sure how long I could pull it off before one symptom or another betrayed me.
"I think he's asleep, Dare," I heard Pony whisper and I silently thanked him for playing along.
"I hope it stays that way," Darry sighed. I felt him get up from the bed and Pony follow him. They moved into the hallway, closing the door behind them, and then they went into Darry's room and I couldn't hear anything else. After a few minutes I heard my door open again and felt a weight on the bed.
"He's asleep," Ponyboy whispered. "You sure you wanna do this, Soda? I still don't like the idea much."
With effort, I opened my eyes and found him frowning down at me. "Yeah, I'm sure. You're gonna have to help me into the kitchen." Pony nodded and reached an arm around my back, helping me sit up. Leaning on him, I stood up and immediately wished I hadn't. The room started spinning, just like it had earlier when Darry had helped me to the truck. I ignored it this time, though. I knew if I stopped, Pony might change his mind. I concentrated on Pony's presence, letting him anchor me. Everything was still spinning as we made it to the hallway and as we kept going, my vision started to spot over, too. I put all my weight on my brother, desperately holding on to him so I didn't pass out. My entire world was reduced to the feel of Pony's arms around me, but I was determined to keep going. When he said we'd made it to the kitchen, I collapsed onto the floor, unable to hold myself up, even with support, for a second longer.
I lay sprawled out on the kitchen floor, only half aware of what was going on around me. I vaguely heard Pony leave and when he came back I felt him put a pillow under my head and a blanket over me. Through the haze I realized I was cold again and I pulled the blanket tighter around me. "Do ya have more blankets, Pone?" I asked, starting to shiver.
"Yeah, just a sec." I waited as Pony left the room. The fog in my head was starting to clear now that I was lying down again. "Here, is this enough?" Pony threw three more blankets over the one I already had.
"Yeah, it's enough. Thanks, Pone." It wasn't enough, but I was pretty sure we didn't have any more blankets in the house.
"I put a bowl beside you, Soda," he said. "You know, in case you're sick again." He tried to say it like it was just a slight possibility, but we both knew I'd need it before long. There wasn't a single night in the last two weeks that I hadn't woken up at least once to throw up. As I lay shivering on the hard kitchen floor I tried to tell myself that I really wouldn't be any more comfortable in my bed than here, anyway—not with how lousy I felt. And it was worth it if Darry could get just one good night's sleep.
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"I don't wanna fuckin' stay here, anyway!" I shouted, slamming the front door behind me on my way out of the house. I heard something shatter and more shouting, but I kept walking. My dad had thrown me out again, supposedly for good this time, but I doubted he'd even remember it in the morning. I got to the end of my block and stood on the corner, deciding which way to turn. I thought about heading to the Dingo, but after the screaming match I'd just had I really just felt like crashing. I turned left, heading for the Curtis'. The two block walk helped me cool off and by the time I reached their gate I was barely even thinking about my dad. It bothered me, being thrown out of the house all the time, but I was used to it by now. I usually found it hurt less if I didn't think about it too much.
I let myself in the front door and was hit once again by the eerie quietness of the house. Since Soda had such bad headaches all the time, the radio and TV were always either off or on low volume if someone was using them. The silence was broken by the sound of Soda getting sick. This was unfortunately a normal sound, but the strange thing tonight was that it seemed to be coming from the kitchen. I went to investigate and anger flooded through me at what I saw. Pony was sitting on the kitchen floor and Soda was lying next to him, covered in blankets. Soda was propped up on one elbow trying, without much success since there was probably nothing in his stomach, to throw up.
"What the fuck is going on here?" I growled at Pony, rushing over to join the pair on the floor. "Why isn't he in bed?"
"Just let me explain, Steve," Pony cried, holding up his hands in self defense.
I couldn't even begin to guess what explanation he could have for this. "You mean explain why your sick brother is lying on the kitchen floor instead of in his bed?" I asked incredulously.
"Steve," Soda panted from beside us, and I turned to look at him. He was as white as a sheet and shivering uncontrollably. My anger at Pony grew at seeing how sick my best friend was. "Let him talk."
I glowered, but kept my mouth shut. For Soda, I would give the kid a chance to defend himself.
"Look, Steve, I don't like this anymore than you do," Pony started and I glared harder at him. If he didn't like it than why wasn't he doing something about it? "It was Soda's idea to come out here. Darry's exhausted and Soda didn't want him staying up all night again. This is the only way to make sure Darry doesn't wake up when Soda gets sick."
As I processed this, I looked to Soda for confirmation, who nodded at me. "It's true, Steve. I made Pony take me out here."
"You made him?" I asked doubtfully.
"Don't underestimate the power of guilt," Soda laughed weakly.
I studied Ponyboy, who looked honestly upset about the situation, and decided he was telling the truth. It was Soda's idea to come out here, and these days Soda pretty much got whatever he wanted. I sighed, realizing that if Pony couldn't convince Soda to stay in bed, I probably wasn't gonna have any better luck. And it was true that there'd be no way to convince Darry to leave Soda's side. "Fine, have it your way. Can I get ya anythin'?"
Soda shook his head. "Thanks, Steve."
"Anytime, buddy." I hated seeing him curled up on the floor and shaking, but there really was no going against what he wanted. Pony and I spent the rest of the night taking turns getting Soda whatever he needed. Each time his chills stopped we took his temperature. When it reached 103.2 at five in the morning, we started to worry that we'd have to take him into the hospital, but we got lucky; his fever broke an hour later. Drenched in sweat, Soda finally fell into a deep sleep and Ponyboy and I both breathed sighs of relief.
"C'mon, Pony. Let's get him back to bed. Maybe Darry never even has to know about this." Soda had lost a lot of weight since he started his treatment and I could pick him up easily now. Pony nodded in agreement and I started to move to pick my friend up when a sudden noise made us freeze. Footsteps were coming down the hall; Darry was up.
He came into the kitchen and we both watched as the look on his face changed from tired, to confused, to angry. He knelt down next to his brother and furiously demanded, "Why's Soda on the floor?" Ponyboy looked terrified and I couldn't say I blamed him; an angry Darrel Curtis ain't a pleasant sight.
"Calm down, Darry," I said. "Let's get Soda back into bed and then we'll explain everything."
"You're damn right you will," Darry hissed, picking Soda up and leaving the room. I tugged on Pony's arm and motioned to the couch. We both moved over to it and sat down, trying to figure out how to explain things to Darry. When he came back he stood over us with his arms crossed. "So, do you two want to share why my sick brother apparently spent the night on the kitchen floor instead of in his bed?"
"Dare, I'm really sorry," Pony stammered, eyes on his feet.
"I don't want to hear it, Ponyboy. Just tell me why."
Pony didn't say anything and I actually felt sorry for him. He was caught between his two brothers, not wanting to rat out Soda but not wanting to disappoint Darry, either. "Soda wanted to spend the night there," I told Darry, making Pony's decision for him.
"What?" Darry asked, clearly not expecting that answer. "Why would he want to do that?"
"Cause of you," I burst out, suddenly annoyed by Darry's ignorance.
Darry opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, apparently at a loss for words. Finally, he managed to ask, more softly now, "Why?"
"Cause you're killing yourself tryin' to take care of him all the time. He wanted to make sure you actually got some sleep last night instead of tryin' to push yourself to exhaustion." Darry sat down on the coffee table, looking stunned at what I'd said. "You ain't Superman, Darry," I added, a little softer.
We sat in silence for a couple minutes till Darry spoke up. "It was really cause of me?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah," Pony said, finally looking up from his feet. "We're both real worried about you, Dare. You can't keep doing it all yourself. Let me stay up with him sometimes. You don't need to be there every minute."
Darry sighed and rubbed his face. "Okay kiddo, you're right. I'll try and ease up a bit. Sorry I yelled at you." Pony shrugged, but didn't say anything. He and Darry got along a lot better now, but I think Ponyboy was still real sensitive about criticism from Darry. Darry must've noticed cause he grabbed Pony around the waist, hauled him up and ruffled his hair. "C'mon Pone. Get the kitchen cleaned up and I'll make breakfast. Then you're gonna get some sleep." Pony nodded and seemed to relax a little once he was sure Darry wasn't mad.
I left the brothers to fixing breakfast and snuck down the hall to Soda's room. I crept in, closed the door behind me, and quietly took a seat in the armchair. He looked a lot more peaceful now that he was asleep. I didn't know how much longer I could stand seeing him so sick. It'd be different if we knew this was just temporary, but even though the chemo was working some, there were still no guarantees. I leaned back in the armchair, suddenly exhausted. I closed my eyes and listened to the deep breathing of my best friend, letting it lull me into a dreamless sleep.
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