Thanks for the continued support! I'm thinking one more chapter for this story, after this one.
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"Glory, Steve! Would ya slow down?" I gripped the edge of my seat as Steve raced down the streets at twice the speed limit.
"I thought you wanted to see Soda, too?" he asked irritably, not taking his eyes off the road. "And since when did you care about fast driving, anyway?"
"Since you came within two inches of clipping that bus back there," I shot back. Steve ignored me and turned a corner so sharply I actually heard the tires screech. "Steve, Soda's getting better, not worse. It won't hurt if we take an extra five minutes to get there. On the other hand, if we die in a car crash, he might not like that too much when he wakes up."
Steve slammed on the brakes at a red light and turned to me. "Darry really said he's getting better? You didn't hear him wrong?"
"Yeah, buddy. That's what the doc told them." When the light turned green, Steve shot the car forward, but no longer at death defying speeds.
When we got to the hospital, Steve practically ran to the elevators and starting repeatedly pushing the button as if it would make the elevator come faster. I stood back and kept out of the way; better to let him break the button than try to stop him. Besides, now that we were safely off the roads I was anxious to move as fast as possible, too.
It seemed like forever before we finally got to Soda's room. Darry and Pony looked up at us when we went in, but my gaze immediately went to Sodapop. I'd been expecting some big change; I'd thought maybe the ventilator would be out or at least his color would be better, but he looked exactly the same as he had the last time I'd seen him. He still had tubes and wires everywhere and he was still almost as white as the sheets. Darry smiled at me sympathetically. "It's gonna bit a while before he looks better," he explained, "but Dr. Sheldon said his X-rays definitely showed an improvement." I nodded, but I still felt disappointed.
"When will he wake up?" Steve asked, taking a seat next to Ponyboy and placing a hand lightly on Soda's shoulder.
"They're hoping he can come off the ventilator in the next three or four days," Darry answered. "His lungs still need to improve or he'll just be struggling to breathe again." His face darkened and I thought about all the times in the past few weeks we'd had to talk Soda through his breathing difficulties. I couldn't imagine the terror he must've felt the final time it'd happened.
I walked around the bed and took a seat next to Darry. "You two should go home and get some sleep," I told him. "Me and Steve can stay here tonight."
"No, I'm fine here," Darry answered. He looked at Pony. "You can go home, if you want. I'll call you if anything happens." He said it halfheartedly; he already knew Pony's answer, and he didn't argue when the kid shook his head at the offer.
"You guys should at least sleep on the cot tonight," Steve spoke up. Neither Curtis answered, and the subject was dropped. Steve and I both knew that even with Soda improving, the cot would once again remain empty. We also knew that if, God forbid, Soda didn't have his brothers, it would be us at his side not budging.
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It was three days before Soda was ready to come off the ventilator. Ponyboy and I still barely left his side, but that would have to change soon. It was Saturday; if everything went well, I'd have to get back to work on Monday or we'd be in worse financial trouble than we already were. School would be starting Monday, too. Two-Bit had managed to talk the school secretary into giving him Pony's registration forms for me to sign so that I wouldn't have to make the trip over to the school. Steve had arranged to get a last period study hall so that he could leave early and visit Soda, and I was grateful that he'd be there, even if I couldn't.
For the past day Dr. Sheldon had been weaning Soda off the ventilator. I didn't understand all the medical speak he'd used, but I did understand that it was finally time to wake my brother up. He'd been taken off the sedatives almost an hour before and was supposed to be showing signs of movement any time. Pony sat beside me, both of us holding onto Soda's hand while we waited for the doctor to arrive. Steve and Two-Bit would be coming by later, but it was better if there weren't a lot of people in the room to stress Soda out. Pony and I had been told in no uncertain terms that if anything went wrong, we were to stay out of the way. We were both anxiously hoping that wouldn't happen.
We looked up as Dr. Sheldon came into the room. "Any signs yet?" he asked us. We both shook our heads. "That's alright," he said gently. "They'll come soon enough. Just to remind you, I'm only going to keep him awake for long enough to make sure he's responsive. If he can do everything I ask, I'll give him a mild sedative and then take the ventilator out."
As Dr. Sheldon checked Soda's status, I felt a small movement in my hand. It was so slight, I thought I'd imagined it till Pony spoke up. "I think he's coming around," he said, glancing at me nervously. Earlier, he'd told me he was worried Soda would try to fight the ventilator once he woke up. He was still upset at seeing it get put in a week before.
I felt Soda's hand move again, a little stronger this time, and I gave it a gentle squeeze. "C'mon Soda," I whispered. "We need you to wake up now." Soda's head moved the tiniest bit.
"Please wake up, Soda," Pony murmured. I felt Soda's hand move again and as I watched his face, his eyes slowly cracked open. He looked like he was struggling to keep them that way as he moved his gaze around the room, finally landing on us.
"Hey, little buddy," I breathed. "Welcome back." I could see questions in his eyes, but the tube in his throat stopped him from saying anything.
"Soda," Dr. Sheldon said, bringing Soda's attention over to him. "You're on a ventilator right now and I know it's very uncomfortable, but I need to you to do a couple things for me before I can take you off it." Soda just stared back groggily, so Dr. Sheldon continued. "First, I need you to squeeze my hand." Dr. Sheldon took Soda's hand in his and I watched it slightly contract. "Good. Now, can you raise your head up?" Soda's head moved a fraction of an inch off the pillow before falling back down. "That's okay," Dr. Sheldon said gently. "Maybe that was too much; I know you're tired. How about your arm? Can you raise it off the bed?" Soda slowly brought his free arm a few inches above the bed and held it there till Dr. Sheldon told him to lower it. "Much better, Soda. Alright, I can take the ventilator out now, but I need to put you to sleep again, first."
Soda looked back at us and even in his dazed state I could see the fear shining in his eyes. "It's okay, Pepsi-Cola," I soothed, rubbing his cheek lightly. "You're going to be okay. I promise you'll wake up in a couple of hours." He looked to Ponyboy and then back to me, his eyes begging for another option.
I saw Dr. Sheldon get ready to add the sedative to one of the IVs and Pony quickly spoke up to distract Sodapop. "Steve and Two-Bit are gonna come by later," he said. "They've been here as much as they can. When they heard you were getting better they came over right away. I think they set a record for getting here from the DX." The meds were in Soda's system now and he blinked his eyes, trying to stay awake. He didn't have a chance against the sedative though, and within seconds he'd lost the battle.
"Are you sure you two want to stay for this?" Dr. Sheldon asked, getting his equipment ready. I nodded and held Soda's hand tighter. I knew he was asleep again and wouldn't feel anything, but I wanted to be there for him anyway, and I knew Ponyboy felt the same. Dr. Sheldon had already explained the process to us, so he put gloves on and got right to work. He put a second tube into Soda's mouth and started suctioning the extra fluid away. I cringed and turned my gaze to Pony, who was staring at our joined hands. Even after seeing Soda awake, it was hard to watch him lie helpless while yet another medical procedure was done to him.
I heard the suctioning sound stop and after another minute Dr. Sheldon announced that he was done. I looked up to find Soda still asleep, but with his face free of the ventilator. He had an oxygen mask on, but I could deal with that a lot better; for one thing, it wasn't painful and for another, he'd be able to actually talk to us when he woke up again. "He'll come around again in a couple of hours," Dr. Sheldon said as he got ready to leave the room. "He probably won't be able to stay awake for long, but he'll manage more later in the day. A nurse will come by in a bit and switch him to an oxygen tube."
Pony and I both nodded our thanks and turned our focus to our brother, already watching for signs of consciousness.
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I felt a pressure on my hand and I squeezed back to whoever was holding it. Or at least I think I did. Everything was foggy; I felt like I was swimming through wet cement, trying to rise up and actually break the surface. "Hey, little buddy. The ventilator's out now. I told you you'd wake up again." Darry. He had promised that, hadn't he? Vague memories of waking up earlier floated through my drugged brain. As I kept fighting the sedation, sensations started to join the memories. My chest still pulsed with pain, but what really got to me was my throat. I felt like I'd swallowed a razor blade, or maybe a broken bottle.
I opened my mouth, planning to offer some sort of greeting, but the words never made it that far. "My throat hurts," I mumbled instead, and I cringed at how hoarse my voice was. I felt a straw touch my lips and I took a few grateful sips of water before it was pulled away. I groaned and turned my head, trying to find the straw again.
"You can have more in a few minutes, Soda." Pony. I struggled to open my eyes, desperate to see my brothers.
I finally dragged them open and tried to blink away the blurriness dancing on the edges of my vision. It mostly worked, and I settled my gaze on Darry and Pony, who were sitting side by side, both holding my hand. "Hey," I croaked out weakly. It wasn't much, but they both smiled at me in relief.
I could already feel my eyelids trying to close again and I struggled to use energy I didn't have to keep them open. "It's okay, Soda," Darry said softly. "Go to sleep. We'll be right here when you wake up." When I wake up. I could see the truth of that statement in his eyes and I slowly let my own close, sinking back into a peaceful sleep.
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It was a few hours before Sodapop came around again. Pony had moved over to the other side of the bed and was dozing while we waited. The sun was still up, but the past week had been exhausting; neither of us had any semblance of an internal clock left. When I felt Soda's hand start moving in mine, I gently shook Pony awake. He dragged his head up and blinked sleep out of his eyes, then noticed what was going on and quickly became more alert. "Soda?" he prompted gently. Our brother responded with a small moan before slowly opening his eyes. He smiled at Ponyboy when he saw him.
"Hi Pone," he whispered hoarsely, then turned to me. "Hi Dare." He offered me a small smile, too. He was much more alert this time, but the exhaustion was still plain on his face. He swallowed and visibly winced. A week on a ventilator hadn't exactly done wonders for his throat.
"You thirsty?" I asked, and he nodded. I took the sterilized glass of water a nurse had brought in and brought the straw to Soda's mouth. After a few sips, I took it away. "You can't have very much at a time," I explained. "Too much in your stomach all at once might irritate it." He frowned a little, but nodded anyway.
He looked back and forth between us again and concern started to show on his face. "You two look like crap," he said. "How long've you been here?"
I sighed and glanced at Ponyboy. "What do you remember, Soda?" I asked quietly.
He thought for a minute before answering. "Steve and Pony were here. We were talking, and then—I couldn't breathe anymore." His voice started to shake as the memory came back to him. "I was so scared…" he trailed off and when he looked at me, I could see tears in his eyes.
"It's okay, Pepsi. You're okay now," I soothed. He nodded and took a few deep breaths, maybe to calm himself down, or maybe just to reassure himself that he could.
"I don't remember anything after that. Not till I woke up and Dr. Sheldon said he was going to take the ventilator out. Is that what he did, when I couldn't breathe?" he asked, turning to Pony.
"Yeah, they did it real fast. They gave you a needle first so you wouldn't feel it. You haven't been awake since," Pony finished in a whisper.
He looked down and Soda gently squeezed his hand. "I'm awake now, Pone." Pony looked up and tried to smile, but I could see the fear still lingering on his face. It would be a long time before he'd get over his memories of that day.
There was silence for a minute before Soda asked quietly, "How long?"
Pony and I glanced at each other briefly, wondering how he would take this. "Eight days," I told him gently. His face filled with horror and he looked at me in disbelief.
"Eight days?! I've been out of it for over a week?!" The exhaustion left his features for a minute as he reeled from the news. "Have you guys been here this whole time?" he asked, beginning to realize why we both looked so awful.
"We didn't want to leave you alone," Pony said quietly.
"But—"
"Soda, don't bother," I said, cutting him off. "We've already heard it from everyone else." He looked at me and I could see the drowsiness start to come back as the fight left him. "Don't waste your energy worrying about it."
I saw one more flash of concern in his eyes, then he relaxed again. "Thank you," he whispered, his eyes starting to close. A few seconds later, he was asleep.
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Two-Bit and I arrived at the hospital just after sunset. Darry had phoned earlier and said that everything had gone well with taking the ventilator out and that Soda had been groggy, but awake. We'd decided to give the three brothers some time alone together, but now we were getting anxious to see for ourselves that our friend was okay.
Two-Bit finished washing up first and moved towards Soda's door, but froze in the doorway. For a second my stomach dropped, thinking that something had happened, but then he turned to me with a smile on his face and put a finger to his lips, indicating to be quiet. Curious now, I pushed past him and felt my own face break into a smile at the sight before me. The guardrail was up on one side of Soda's bed and Ponyboy was curled up in the narrow space between it and Soda, leaning against the rail so that he didn't put too much weight on his brother. He had an arm wound around one of Soda's arms, carefully avoiding all the wires but hanging on tight just the same. He was completely out cold. Darry was lying on his stomach on the cot, one arm dangling over the edge and his mouth hanging open slightly, just as out of it as Pony. It was one of the many times in my life I wished I had a camera.
We carefully snuck into the room and each took a chair on the free side of Soda's bed. He was sleeping, but when I picked up his hand, he stirred and slowly opened his eyes. He blinked a few times before focusing on us. "Hey, guys," he said, smiling.
I grinned back at him, incredibly relieved to finally see him conscious again. The day he'd stopped breathing had been one of the scariest of my life, right up there with the night Dally had been shot and the day Mr. and Mrs. Curtis had been killed. "Hey, buddy."
"How're ya feeling?" Two-Bit asked.
Soda started to shrug his shoulders, then realized his one arm was tied down. He glanced down at his little brother, who'd shifted slightly at the movement and latched onto Soda's arm tighter. "How'd he manage to get there?" he asked, pinching his face in confusion. "If the rail wasn't there, he'd fall right off."
"Darry must've helped him," I suggested. "He was like that when we got here." Soda glanced towards the cot and smiled at the sight of Darry fast asleep.
"I'm glad they're finally resting. Were they really here the whole time I was out?" he asked, turning back to us.
"Yeah. We probably could've pulled the fire alarm and they still wouldn't have budged."
I saw guilt flash through Soda's eyes, but I didn't mention it. "So, how do you feel?" I asked.
"Tired," he sighed. "Apparently eight days ain't enough sleep." He was quiet for a minute, then suddenly looked at us in alarm. "Shouldn't Pony've been in school today? He missed so much last year…"
I laughed and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "I think all the meds scrambled your brain, buddy; your math is a little off. For one thing, it's Saturday." Soda immediately looked relieved and I thought how ironic it was that he was so concerned about Pony's schooling when he'd never cared about his own. "For another," I continued, "school doesn't start for another two days. He hasn't missed anything yet."
Soda gave a small smile, then looked at his brother and sighed. "He didn't have much of a summer though, did he?"
"Hey," Two-Bit said, drawing Soda's attention to him. "He ain't gonna care about his summer as long as you get better. That's all he wants."
A nurse came in to check Soda's vitals and told us it was best if we didn't stay much longer. Soda was looking drained from just our short conversation and he already had Darry and Pony to keep him company during the night. "Thanks for coming by," he said as we stood up to leave. He paused, then looked down and added, "I'm sorry I made you all worry so much."
"Soda." I waited till he was looking up at me, then said firmly, "Don't be sorry. Just get better." Two-Bit clapped Soda's leg and we moved towards the door. Before I turned the light out, I glanced back to the bed and saw Soda gently rub his free hand through his brother's hair. Pony stirred again and shifted, and as Soda curled up and closed his eyes, I turned the light off and closed the door behind me.
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Please review. :) I'll try and get the last chapter up in the next couple of days.