Disclaimers: SE Hinton owns the Outsiders.

OoO

I can't help asking, just to make sure. "Are you feeling all right, Pony?"

The couch cushions are overturned, contents of the coffee table erupted into small piles on the ground. Pony, on hands and knees, digging under the couch, sits up, cheeks flushed. There's a white notepad next to his knee.

He does the almost crooked-smile thing again, but there's a glint in his eyes telling me he'll kill me if I keep asking. "Soda, I'm fine. Are you?"

"Sure I am kiddo." I stand over him, toe his leg. "What're you looking for?"

He frowns, pats his pockets. "I think…" Pony begins, "I think I lost mom's lighter. I think it's in the pond. It fell out when I went it." He looks up at me, his green eyes big. "I have to go get it, Soda. I have to find it."

"No." I sit on top of the coffee table. "I don't want you taking anymore swims in that pond." I give him a grin as he rolls his eyes. "I'll find it, Pone. Don't worry."

"Soon, Soda."

"Okay, soon. I promise."

"Hey, Soda," he asks. "Do you know who a Helen Hayley is?"

I squint at the notepad Pony's holding out to me. A name and a number scribbled. "Old girlfriend?"

He blushes. "No, I think I'd remember that." He checks out the notepad, his eyes growing distant. I watch him close. I swear to god the kid has more stuff on his mind than most people.

"It had to have been…Never mind." Ponyboy shakes his head. "I'll figure it out."

I ruffle his hair and laugh. "Kiddo, I have no doubt you will."

OoO

The next day I remember.

Just the basics, not the details, but slowly it's coming back. Helen Hayley…the ex-wife of Thomas Mercer. Something to do with kids and my mom.

I shrug my jacket on. Take my medicine to chase away the headache. Too tired and sore to walk, I decide I need to find Two-Bit. Have him give me a ride over to Helen's house.

OoO

"Darrel!" my boss shouts. He waves a phone at me. "You gotta call!"

"I'll be right there!" I shout back. I place bets with myself that it's Ponyboy. Hope nothing's wrong at the house.

"Hello?" I'm asking when I finally pick up the phone. I press it tight against my ear to drown out the sounds of the work trucks driving by. "Pony?"

"Darry? No. It's me. Cindy Mathews." She sounds excited. "I found a letter."

"I'll be right there."

OoO

"Oh come in, come in Ponyboy."

Mrs. Mathews bustles around as I step inside, shutting the door. I haven't seen her since the birthday party and today she's all smiles. She's looking better too. Two-Bit told me the medication she was on had been helping.

"I'm so glad to see you up and around. Everyone was so worried," she says, wiping soapy hands on her apron. "Did Darry send you for the letter? I know he was at work so it must have been easier this way. Now I only have one but I wanted him to see it." She grins. "I'm sure you want to as well."

"No, I was here for Two—"

I trail off as Cindy Mathews pulls a white envelope from a drawer. Instinctively, I hold my hand out. She hands it to me and I open it. It smells like dust from years ago, the paper crinkled and worn, my mother's familiar cursive. As I read, my headache intensifies, words blurring and swimming in my vision.

And that's when it all comes back. As quick as my stomach drops into my feet, I remember. I remember meeting Helen Hayley, my interrupted talk with the Cowboy, Rita's visit in the hospital. What she had said. What she knows.

"Darry knew?" I ask, licking dry lips. "He knew about this?"

"Of course he did. I told him I'd—" She cuts off, presses a hand to her heart. "Oh. Oh my. Ponyboy, he didn't—"

"No. He didn't."

I drop the letter on the floor and go.

OoO

Idling at a stoplight I see a familiar face. "Want a lift?" I reach across the seat and crack the passenger door. Two-Bit climbs in, arms full of beer. He sets the paper sack between us. Pops a can open.

The light turns green. "Where's your ride?"

"Ol' Karen took it out. It's my day off anyway, don't really need it."

"How's your ma?"

"She's good. Doc gave her some medication for her brain. It's kind of scrambled up there." He smiles good-naturedly. "Guess that explains why Karen's so nuts."

I raise an eyebrow. "Or her brother."

"Me? I'm the impossible dream, the saint in sheep's clothing." Two-Bit stretches out in the cab, taking a sip of his beer, and then smiles. "What about you Superman? Playing hooky today? You want a beer?"

"I'm actually on the way to your house."

"What? You and my mom got a thing going on now?"

I chuckle, give him a look. "She found a letter."

Two-Bit sits up straight. "No shit?" He scratches a long sideburn. "So does this mean you're gonna tell the kid now? Stop being a chicken shit?"

"Soda told you about that huh?"

"Oh yeah."

"You're right though," I tell him. "I am chicken shit. I just wanted to know for sure. I wanted proof."

"Looks like you're gonna get it, Dar."

"I sure as hell hope so."

OoO

I stumble into the nearest pay phone booth. It was Rita. She knew. She knows the rest. I dial the DX and Steve answers.

"Steve. I need to talk to Soda."

"He ain't here, kid. He's picking up a part out in Auburn."

I rest my face against the cool glass. I say numbly, "I really need to talk to him. I need a ride."

"This ain't a goddamn chauffeur service," Steve snaps. "What're you doin' running around town anyway?" There's a long pause and then he asks, "Ponyboy are you okay?"

I realize I'm breathing hard. I glance up and someone's tapping on the glass, motioning for me to hurry-it-up. "I need to go to the Cowboy's. It's important."

Steve curses darkly. "Hang on, I'll come get you."

OoO

Cindy Mathews is already on the porch when Two-Bit and I show up. "Now what?" Two-Bit groans, climbing out as I cut the engine.

"Ma, you okay?" he asks as we head toward the house.

She looks at me instead. "Darry, I think I told Ponyboy something I shouldn't have."

Two-Bit's eyebrows shoot up. "Whoa, what? The kid was here?"

"He came by looking for you Keith but instead—"

"What happened, Cindy?" I interrupt urgently.

"I thought he knew and I—I showed him this." She unveils a letter.

"Oh, ma," Two-Bit says. "You didn't."

More gently than I feel at the moment I take the letter from her and read. It's what I wanted. Real proof. Sold fact. And yet it's still bad. Because Ponyboy knows and I didn't get to talk to him first.

"Do you know where he went?"

"I'm sorry," she says, her eyes welling up. "I don't know. He just left."

I swear. "I gotta go find him."

"I'm coming with you," Two-Bit says, following me down the steps. "Shit, I'm sorry about this, Dar," He sounds upset. "Real goddamn sorry."

"Let's just find him."

I set the letter on the dash. I start the truck, my knuckles white against the wheel.

OoO

"Darry's gonna brain you," Steve says pulling into the gravel driveway. "You know they don't want you running around town and now this place." This place comes out dripping in disgust.

"What's got you so worked up?" he asks. "You barely said a word on the way over."

"I just need to talk to the Cowboy. I'll be right back."

"Make it fast, kid," Steve warns as I get out.

OoO

I go straight inside. The house is empty. Not even Goosey's around.

They're in Rita's purse.

It comes instinctively – I remember the snap of the metal clip in my hospital room, the rustling of the papers – and I go for it.

OoO

I don't look up when she enters. "Oh mijo."

"You knew?" I glance up. I sit frozen near the fireplace, on top of the worn rug, the only light in the house coming from the table lamp. I don't think I can move. I can't believe this.

Rita covers her mouth. "I'm so sorry."

I grip the letters. There're four total. All written by my mother. Freeing, truthful words so I don't know why reading them hurts so much.

"Does the Cowboy know?"

"No, mijo. He does not."

"You kept this? This long?"

"I meant all the goodness in the world. I did not want any harm to come."

Finally, on shaky legs, I pull myself up. I shove the letters at her, like they're a microphone. "Why? Why would you do this? All these years and you let him believe…"

Rita's face is contorted into a sad frown. "He adored you. He never got over Lara. You gave him hope. I love my Tomas. I kept what he wanted alive." She twists her hands together. "I took the letters, and I hid them, yes. I did what I thought was right."

"It wasn't right." Desperation claws somewhere inside. How wrong everything is right now. Adults making mistakes, hiding things, hurting others.

"I know."

A slow boil of anger begins. One I've been trying to tamp down since I met Thomas Mercer. I take a step forward. Rita stands her ground.

"So it's fine then? My mom screwed around, lied about it and you—"

She slaps me across the face. A harsh, stinging crack. I touch my cheek. The inside of my mouth waters.

"I'm sorry, mijo. But I will not have you speak ill of your mother. I am the liar. I am not proud of this."

This time, I see red – betrayal, hurt, anger, fear –it all rushes through me like a freight train until I'm suddenly shouting. "I can't believe you! You lied to Thomas, to me and my brothers for six months and we're supposed to forget about it? You tried to wreck our family…let me think he was really my father…"

My words come out in short puffs, and I'm finding it hard to breathe. "You lied. You would have kept lying too – you only told me because…because you thought I was—I was—"

Rita's voice comes out low and choked. "I never would have forgiven myself if you died."

The fight goes out, my shoulders sagging. "Guess you're off the hook then."

"No. No mijo…I never…"

My eyes widen as Thomas Mercer appears behind Rita's shoulder. She watches me for a moment, watches my face change to surprise, then spins around and utters a small moan.

"Tomas…"

I stand frozen. Thomas is nearly unrecognizable, his face screwed into a mess of disbelief. A prickling sensation creeps its way down my spine. I feel sick. I am sick.

"Get out of here, Ponyboy." His tone is flat, just like his eyes. "Get out of here now."

I take the letters.

OoO

Steve's halfway out of his truck when I barrel out. "Jesus, kid—"

I bypass him. "The Cowboy," I say, climbing inside. I throw the letters onto the floor. "He ain't my dad." I wipe my wet, stinging face.

Steve doesn't say a thing.

OoO

The front door flies open and the instant Ponyboy appears, Darry's face pales. He knows he's in for it. Ponyboy looks ready to fight. Darry meets him in the living room, some sort of standoff.

"You knew," Ponyboy says, the first thing out of his mouth. He looks direct at Darry, eyes bright. Furious. There's a red mark across his right cheek like a slash, white papers in his hands.

Steve slinks in behind him, meets me in the kitchen. "Kid's gonna explode," is all he says before joining a wide-eyed Two-Bit at the table.

"Yeah, I can see that."

"I've been looking for you, Pone," Darry's saying. He's got his fists shoved into his pockets, an already-tired look in his eyes.

"I bet you have." As soon as I move into the living room, Ponyboy goes to me. "Soda, you gotta read these, you have to see these…"

I put a hand on his shoulder, ready to tell him I already know about the letter Darry has, when both Darry and I simultaneously realize something: Pony has four letters of his own.

"Where'd you get those?" Darry asks, confused.

"I remembered," Ponyboy says, defiant, like Darry's just dared him to run a lap backwards. "I remembered what happened before the accident."

"He called me at the DX," Steve says tiredly. "I took him up to the Cowboy's place. Didn't know this is what he was hunting down though or else I would've hog-tied him and tossed him in the bed of my truck."

"Rita had them," Pony says. He blinks fast, swallows. "She knew the whole time. Ever since I was born."

"Oh, shit," Two-Bit's stunned voice floats out from the kitchen. I shoot Darry an astonished look: so that's where they were.

"And you knew too," Pony says, his voice cracking, his gaze moving to our oldest brother. "Why didn't you tell me, Dar? Why? You could have told me. I deserved to know."

"I was trying to be sure, Ponyboy. Damn sure. I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up. Yours especially."

"How long did you know?"

"A month." Darry puts a hand out as Ponyboy flinches. "I was going to tell you the night of the storm, kiddo. And then you were in the hospital; you're sick, we didn't want—"

"We?" Ponyboy draws back. Eyes me. "You knew too?"

"I did," I say, trying to save Darry. "We both did. I'm sorry, Pone but—"

I break off, shocked as he covers his eyes, his face. "Kiddo…" Moving close, I try to wrap an arm around his shaking shoulders but he jerks away.

He looks at Darry, dead-on. "I'll never trust you again."

Darry's jaw jumps, tightens. He says, "Ponyboy, listen," and takes a step towards our brother.

"I don't want to talk to you," Ponyboy says weakly. He wipes his eyes. Gives me a glare. "Either of you." He storms out of the living room. The bedroom door slams. A photo falls off the wall and shatters.

Darry raises his face to the ceiling, letting out a soft swear. Two-Bit's eyes are on the ground. Steve says, "Now that's a show you pay money to watch."

"Fuck off, Steve," I snap. I don't know what I expected. I knew he'd be upset, but not this. Christ.

Darry sits in the recliner, resting his palms on the knees of his jeans. "It's gonna take a lot," he says wearily, "for him to get over this."

OoO

Dear Thomas,

This is hard to write. Once the doctor told me, I just knew. The baby isn't yours. I never was pregnant by you. And I'm sorry I'm telling you in a letter, but I told myself I'd never see you again. For Darrel. For what we still have.

It's my fault. You've been a good man. I don't expect you to understand, but please respect my wishes to stay away.

Forgive me.

Lara

I fold this up. Hand it to Sodapop. Pick the next one.

Dear Thomas,

I never heard back from you. I see you driving by the house late at night. Did you get my letter? The baby – Ponyboy (yes, his father named him) was never yours. I'm sorry for this, but you should know how happy I am.

I'm happy. Wonderfully happy.

Lara

Soda's silent the entire time, which is odd considering he can't sit still reading a magazine. His eyes are dark. He holds his hand out and we trade letters.

Thomas,

I want to know you know this. I've written you letters and still no response. This cannot go on. I know you left the money on the porch. I'm sending it back. I don't want it. It shouldn't be yours to give anyway, because Ponyboy is not your son.

Write back. I'm worried.

Tell me you know.

L. Curtis

Soda makes a noise in the back of his throat. I open the last letter and read it.

Thomas,

I heard from Helen Fowler that you're leaving town. Headed overseas or someplace far away. Someplace I'll never go. But I like this town so it doesn't matter much.

I can't say I'm sorry that you're leaving. I wish it had been sooner. But thank you for our time together. It shouldn't have been but I'll never forget it. I'll never forgive myself either. I never should have told you about the baby, got your hopes up. I am a fool.

I'm sorry about everything. I still worry though. Worry that you think he's yours. Maybe I haven't heard from you because you hate me. I understand.

I just want to know that you know.

Please. I don't want this hanging over our heads.

Love,

Lara

I let out a breath. Soda looks as relieved as I've ever seen him. He's ours, his face says. Ours.

OoO

I read the letter Darry brought home.

Cindy,

I'm putting this in a letter. In writing. I want you to know just in case he doesn't. Ponyboy, my sweet, darling baby, is not Thomas's. I know I've told you the story—our story, what the doctor said – but this is for you to have and keep. I don't know why, maybe I'm being silly.

Thank you, thank you my friend, for your help during this time. I didn't know where else to turn. I can always count on you.

With love,

Lara.

I start to crumple it in my hand but then stop. Instead, I throw it to the ground. I lie on my bed and stare at the cracked ceiling. Darry knew. They both knew. I knew and forgot. Wishful thinking or defense mechanism, either way it still hurts.

Thomas Mercer's shocked face keeps running through my mind. It makes me sick.

My chest has lead weights in it. I've wanted this for so long, to be sure, to not have any questions, but now that the answers are here I'm not anything. I don't know how to feel.

OoO

As always, pardon any typos.

Thank you for the reviews. Thank you for reading! I love them both. Keep it up.

XO,

Feisty