Disclaimers: SE Hinton owns, cursing...

Come In, Come On

OoO

These days I'm dizzy. Dizzy from all the things I'm hearing and learning about. Like this morning; Soda's got himself in some trouble and Darry's taken on another problem. Overhearing their conversation didn't do a lot for my nerves – I'm smoking cigarettes like crazy – but I'd rather know than be kept in the dark. Everyone's so secretive lately, walking on eggshells. From experience I know that's not the best way to handle things; people blow up or get hurt. Like Sodapop.

I can't remember the last time my brothers have fought this much. Maybe never. They've always been the two to back each other up. To stand strong. Life seems like it's unraveling into strange places.

OoO

After the track meet Sodapop hands Josie a Coke. She laughs and thanks him. Two-Bit tries to juggle the bag of popcorn he's holding, Steve staring at him like he's an idiot. We're milling around the concession stands at Will Rogers waiting for Ponyboy to show. It's the first time anyone's met Josie and now it's his turn.

Josie pokes me in the side. "He's a regular superstar now, you know that right?"

I chuckle, sticking my hands in pockets. Ponyboy comes loping around the corner; he's blushing as his teammates cheer him on, slapping his back and catcalling. He won the meet for the team and while Pony's never cocky this is one thing he takes pride in.

"Hey," he says shyly, approaching the group.

I clap his shoulder. "Great goin' tonight, Pone." I gesture to my right side, pushing her forward. "This is Josie Miller."

Josie shakes his hand, cheerfully pumping it. "You are absolutely adorable." Pony blushes. Steve rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, let's not give the kid a complex."

I wait for the retort and am surprised when there's none, Ponyboy giving Steve a slight glance and that's it. Even Soda seems caught off guard. "Nice to meet you," Pony says to Josie.

I wrap my arm around her as Soda gives Pony a big hug, there's a voice from left field. The Cowboy steps into view.

"Nice runnin' kid," Thomas Mercer says. He's in a leather jacket, boots and jeans. "You got some skill."

"Thanks," Pony says. He bites his lip. Steps in front of me when I make a move. "Darry…" His voice is low.

"What're you doing here?"

"Came to see the race. Don't think that's a crime." His eyes dare me to say otherwise.

"It's not," Pony says, trying to keep the peace. "We're gonna go get some food, you want to come?"

The Cowboy takes off his hat, gives Pony a genuinely soft smile. "Thanks but no. I just wanted to watch your meet, nothin else. See you this Saturday?" At this, Pony wilts, his young face somewhere between a frown and a pained expression. But he nods.

I'm about to snap, to tell Thomas Mercer to get the hell out of here when I see Sodapop. He's watching the Cowboy's face with furious intensity, a kind of unfamiliar hatred I'd never think Sodapop could carry. He's only met him twice before – in the dim diner and hospital – and now Soda's dumbstruck. In the harsh lights of the track and with no cowboy hat on, Soda's seen the Thomas Mercer's eyes.

I don't think anyone could miss them.

OoO

"You get the money yet, Sodapop?"

"No."

Steve, Two-Bit and I are out back smoking KOOLS. They shoot each other a grimace but I don't care. I've never felt so bitter. My heart's been kicked around in my chest and just when I thought the talk with Darry would clear me up some, I'm slammed back against a wall.

A warm glow shines from one of the back kitchen windows, light laughter stirring. Inside, Darry, Josie and Ponyboy are getting to know each other over big bowls of ice cream. Pony seemed like he had wanted to run the minute he stepped inside but he's humoring Darry and wolfing down Rocky Road.

"Do I need to rob someone to get that cash?" Two-Bit jokes, though the offer is dead serious. "I will. I'll gladly wait for the Wells Fargo Wagon to come 'round the tracks…"

"No."

Steve paces the lawn. "Soda…"

"No," I say. "I'll figure it out." I ash my smoke, deadened from tonight. "What's with the big concerned act anyway?" Why Steve's suddenly a champion of my little brother is news to me. Any other time I'd relish it, tonight I can't deal.

It's the wrong thing to say. Steve gapes at me. "Why am I concerned? Jesus, Sodapop…what are you on these days?" His face is a grimace. "It's Ponyboy and Darry, man. Nothing's happened yet… but hell, do you really doubt that guy is gonna forget about this?"

"Shut up, Steve."

"Jesus Christ, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Steve," Two-Bit pipes up. "It ain't the time."

"I'll tell you when it's the goddamn time," Steve snaps at Two-Bit. He juts his cigarette my way. "Sodapop, you gotta snap out of this. Your mom's not Sandy. Pony's still your brother…" He shakes his head. "Man, I thought the kid was bad, but you're sinking fast."

"Goddamn it, Steve, I know he's my brother." I sit in my chair, feeling my jaw twitch, feeling eyes on me, when suddenly realization gives me a hearty slap. I smear my face in my hands, choke out, "He has his fuckin' eyes, man. What do I do with that?"

Two-Bit leans over in his chair, rests a palm on my back.

OoO

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Since when does a cowboy have a Corvette?"

Thomas Mercer's got the hood of his red Corvette propped up, his hands tinkering with the parts beneath, grease smeared up to his elbows. He gives me a cocky grin. "Beauty, isn't it?"

I cross my arms, leaning back against the passenger door of the car. "Yeah," I grudgingly admit. "It's nice."

"Nice, huh?" He chuckles, wipes his palms on the ends of his shirt. "Pony, hand me that wrench will ya?"

I hand it over and he begins messing with the engine. I watch his long fingers work. His hands slim yet muscular. I look at my own, silently comparing. Wondering who's really in there. My mom…my dad…or Thomas Mercer.

He works and I find myself helping him out, holding parts steady and handing him needed tools. He tells me about how he bought his Corvette when he moved away from Tulsa, a spur of the moment decision he's never regretted. "She's been all over the place with me," he says, patting one of the headlights.

"You know…" the Cowboy grunts when we're done, tightening a bolt. He gives me a sideways glance. "You can take this out for a ride if you want. I got no problem with that."

"No," I instantly say. I shake out of my daze, knowing the Cowboy's going to take this for more than it is. "I can borrow Darry's truck whenever I want. I don't need yours." Upset that I've given him that much I stalk off toward the old farmhouse.

OoO

A day later Darry's truck gets its tires sliced. He doesn't say much but his loud stomps throughout the house echo his frustration. I sit on the couch with crossed arms as Darry points at me, says to Sodapop, "You watch him. And you watch him good, Sodapop."

All Soda can do is swear and apologize and even that hurts to watch. He knows he's guilty and being unable to fix it is killing him. Darry's scraped together four bucks, borrowing from Tim, but it's still not enough.

A day after the truck it's my turn.

OoO

The hand that darts from the alleyway wraps around my bicep and tosses me into the dark space. I fly back against the side of the brick building, bounce off and hit the ground to land between two garbage cans. The smell's heavy and I take a breath. This day's about to get a lot worse.

"Get up."

I stand, already knowing who it is. I meet his eyes. Steady my jaw. Hank Greer gives me a once over. "You make it too easy, kid."

"What do you want?"

He grabs my wrist, jerks me forward. His thick fingers dig in hard, pinching skin, and I resist wincing. "You know what I want." His breath is hot and stagnant on my face. "I warned Sodapop and…well…he just doesn't seem to be getting it."

"I'll get you your money."

"You will, will you? I hope so. I hope you're not a liar…" Budweiser's nostrils flare, his eyes nearly red under the harsh alley lights. "Because well…guess what I'll do?" When I don't answer, he jerks my arm again.

"Guess."

"What?"

"I'm gonna break those long legs of yours. One. At. A. Time. Can't have a track star with no running legs, can we?"

I recoil, straight fear flooding me, because this threat is one this guy won't hesitate to make. Budweiser hits me across the face with a meaty fist. Coughing, choking on the liquid filling my mouth, I double over, steadying myself over a garbage can. Black spots blink in my vision.

"Did you hear me?" Budweiser chuckles. "Did you hear—"

"Yeah," I mutter lowly, "I heard you, goddamnit." I spit blood into the gravel and rock. My right hand curls into a fist, my knuckles cracking.

I wait until he's right behind me and then I straighten up and ram my elbow hard into his ribs. It's not much but I hear a sharp noise and then Budweiser's, bellowing, falling backwards into the trash cans. I take off, skidding out of the alley, wiping blood from my teeth.

OoO

The house is dark except for the faint glow coming from the bathroom door. I turn on the kitchen lamp, crack a window and toss my Economics text down on the table. I grab a beer, seeing Steve's truck pull into the driveway.

"Hey Pony," I say, approaching the bathroom. I press a hand against it and it opens. "Have you had din—" I take in the bathroom. Bloody tissues are in the sink, a bottle of rubbing alcohol on the edge of the tub. "What the hell is this?"

"Shit," Pony swears, guilt blooming on his face. His green eyes are as large as caverns.

"What happened to you?"

"Nosebleed," he says with a shrug. "Got popped in the nose during track today." Capping the bottle of rubbing alcohol, he moves to go. I block the exit with my arm.

"You okay?" I touch his chin, tipping it sideways to get a look.

"I'm fine." Ducking, Pony slinks under my arm. He gives me a crooked smile. "Got a lot of homework…gonna get started." He says a brief hi to Soda and Steve before disappearing into his bedroom.

OoO

I do something I never thought I'd do in my life. I ask the Cowboy for help.

OoO

"I need to borrow twenty bucks."

Instead of batting an eye Thomas Mercer whistles. "Lot of money."

He doesn't look up from his newspaper and cup of coffee. I sit across from him at the table and instantly Margarita is setting plate of fruit in front of me and a cup of coffee. Goosey's asleep on the ground next to the Cowboy, her tail curled around her legs.

"I know it is."

"Are you in some sort of trouble, Ponyboy?"

"No, but someone else is."

Slowly, very slowly, the Cowboy folds his paper up. He's in a plaid shirt with the cuffs rolled up, blue jeans and his typical boots. The cowboy hat is nowhere in sight, his hair a rusty brown.

I push the plate of food away though it's tempting. I ditched breakfast at the house and my first class to be here. "I'm only borrowing it," I warn him. "I'll pay you back."

"Oh, I know you will. In fact, I think I have some odd jobs around the house that'll be just perfect for you. Haulin hay, cleaning the stables, picking up dog shit…"

"That sounds like a lot of work," I say, trying not to smile. "But it's a deal."

OoO

I'm waiting for him to take me back to school. Leaning back against his dirty Impala, I watch as he exits the house, shouting a goodbye to Rita and Goosey. There's a wad of bills in his right hand. He sidles over.

"Does this money have anything to do with those bruises on your arm, kid?"

I ash my smoke. "If I said no would you believe me?"

"Probably not." He plunks the cash in my hand but he doesn't let go. "I'll give you what you need son, but I won't ask a second time."

His normally cheerful eyes are serious so I spill it. Mostly because I really need that money and also because I want someone to listen without judgment. Plus, I don't need him thinking Darry was the one who gave me the bruises.

When the Cowboy releases the money, immense relief floods through me. And when I tell him thank you, I really mean it.

OoO

"Here."

Ponyboy's handing me a thick wad of dollar bills when I get home from work and I'm wondering what bank he bumped off. "Where'd you get this?"

"I sold a kidney."

"Real funny…. C'mon, Ponyboy..."

He hesitates. "Look, would you just take it?" He drops his backpack on the couch. "Just take it, Sodapop."

"Tell me."

Steve, hanging up his jacket, sighs. "Look this standoff is real cute but Ponyboy fess the hell up so we know you ain't done nothing illegal." He punches my arm with a closed fist. "And then he'll take it."

"I asked the Cowboy for it," Pony says, drawing up tall.

"You did what?"

"You heard me. You needed the money and I got it."

"I don't want it," I say and Steve groans, "C'mon, man…"

"I don't want to owe him a goddamn thing," I say, pointing at Steve. "I'll find another way to—"

"How Sodapop?" Ponyboy shouts and I watch him carefully. "How?" He wheels around, face stormy. "Take it and give him the damn money. I ain't getting my legs broke for this so just take it."

Anti-freeze replaces my blood. Hank got to Ponyboy. I take a step forward and my brother backs up. "He did something didn't he?" My voice is dangerous. "Ponyboy, what did—"

"Pay him off," Pony says in a voice I've never heard before: commanding, furious. He looks me straight in the eye. "Pay him off now."

OoO

"You should have told me."

"I know."

I turn Ponyboy's arm over in my hand, examining the faint yellow and blue marks left there. "God damn it," I mutter, angry with myself for not noticing.

Pony glances at me under lidded eyes. "I'm sorry, Dar."

Releasing his arm, I run a hand through my hair. "You could have been hurt. Ponyboy, I mean, Jesus, what were you thinking? You shouldn't have been walking alone; you shouldn't have tried to handle this yourself, you—"

"Yeah, well, I handled it didn't I?"

I give him a look, knowing I'm reverting to parent-speak, but in this case I'm unable to stop it. "You know what I mean," I say. "We told you to be careful."

"And I was, Darry, okay? I got out of there." Pony rests an elbow on the table, chin in his palm. "Think Soda's okay? The guy'll take the money?"

"Yeah," I say, watching his face. "Steve and Two-Bit are with him. They'll take care of him."

Pony frowns. "Oh, hey, Darry—"

"I don't want you to worry about this." When he starts to protest I shake my head and he quiets. "I should have been paying more attention. Soda and I…well…we've been arguing too much lately, kiddo, and I'm sorry. I know it hasn't been easy."

Pony's mouth moves, empty words, and then finally he says, "I feel like a lie."

"What?"

"I feel like everything's a lie. It's like I don't know what or who I'm made of anymore." He meets my eyes. "I know things can't go back to normal but…hell…I just want things to be civil."

I'm at a loss, stunned by his honest admission. Pony so rarely admits his feelings to me, Soda usually being the one to listen. Pony laughs, a weak sound; his heart isn't in it.

"Remember when you and I used to do all the fighting? Yeah…I think I kind of miss that."

I sit frozen in my seat, realizing he's right. We've all been pulling away, fighting each other, when we needed to deal with it together. And I should have been the one to do that. "Okay," I say.

"Okay what?"

"We'll be better. We'll get through this. All of us."

Pony spreads his long fingers out on the tabletop, blinking fast. He nods, looking like he doesn't believe it.

OoO

"How'd it go?"

Darry's sitting in his recliner in the dark, like some kind of hit man in a TV show. I cross the room, leaving the lights off. "He took the money."

"You don't sound too happy, Sodapop."

"He's pissed at Pony. Broke the guy's rib." I see Darry smile in the dark. "I don't like it," I continue. "I don't like taking the money from—"

"I don't like it either," Darry says, voice cold. "But you did it so deal with it. We don't have to like Thomas Mercer but we can't do this anymore, you got it? We go on with our lives, he doesn't matter." Darry chuckles. "We have to be the bigger person, Sodapop, no matter how much we hate it."

"Glory, you sound exactly like dad." I groan and plop on the couch, kicking my boots off. "I swear to Christ I'll try," I tell him. "I will." I give him an honest smile and this time Darry flips the lamp on.

OoO

"Howdy, son." Thomas Mercer says to Ponyboy. If he's surprised to see me he doesn't show it. He tips his hat. "Darrel."

"Thank you," I say, getting it out there. It's something I'm not happy about but I do it. I swallow my pride to show Ponyboy we'll be okay. That while I may not like the guy I can put up with him. He doesn't have custody. He's just a regular Saturday pain-in-my-ass occurrence.

"Thank you for the money." Beside me, Ponyboy's bowing his head. I give him a nudge. "He shouldn't have asked you for it but I'm glad he did. Got us out of a real tough spot."

"Aw, Dar," Ponyboy says, blushing. "I didn't just take it. I'm gonna pay him back."

"Yeah, I know you will."

"No thank you's necessary, Darrel." Thomas Mercer opens the door a bit wider. "Come in for a minute?"

"No, I can't stay. Just wanted to drop him off and say thanks." He sticks a hand out and I shake it.

OoO

Pardon typos.

You're so lucky it's not a cliffhanger this chapter. I figured I'd be gentle.

And I know it's Mother's Day but I hope you all still read and review!

XO,

Feisty