A Place Deep Within

Eigth Chapter - Not in blood

October 22- evening

He stands shirtless by the sink, a soap in his hand, but the letters won't come off. His stomach's red because of his efforts, his eyes a bit dull.

"Did they hurt you?" I ask, even if I know they didn't, and he shakes his head no. They didn't, at least not physically. Two-Bit told me that there were four of them, not known as Socs that fights a lot, but apparently, they do other stuff. Two of them held his arms, one lifted his shirt, the fourth wrote. Two-Bit came too late to stop them, but in time to give one of them a black eye, another a nose bleed. The others were too quick on their feet and disappeared. My brother had stared after them, tugged down his shirt and pretend nothing had happened when Two-Bit tried to talk. So because it was lunch-time, our friend grabbed him and Steve along and went to me.

"What about the other two?" I asked them when I had sent Pony inside the shop to grab a pepsi.

"I'll take them tomorrow," Two-Bit assured me. Before they went into Two-Bit's car again to go back to school, I grabbed Steve's arm. He saw my question.

"Don't worry, Soda," he said. "I'll help him with those bastards."

Don't worry. Was there a time when I didn't worry? I can't remember.

"Damn it," I whisper, spit, to no one. We have had enough. We don't need this. Pony especially.

He turns off the faucet. The letters more gray than black now, he gives up his tries and takes the towel to dry himself. He stares at his stomach for a while.

"Everybody knows," he says a bit dazed, and I frown.

"Knows what, Pone?"

He sighs and drops the towel, picking up his shirt instead.

"The truth." He's leaning against the sink, his hip against the once white porcelain, watching my reaction. "About Bob. What I did. They're right." He gesture with his hand over the word.

He hasn't killed anyone. Johnny did. I open my mouth to tell him, but discover I can't. I'm afraid to push him farther away, he's already so deep down in his imagination. I'm afraid to make his denial worse. Pony drags his shirt over his head.

"Don't tell Darry," he says. "He'll just go nuts." His green eyes meets mine brown. Somewhere in them I can see him. "Please, Soda."

I'm goin' nuts, I want to say, but I don't. I hope I won't regret it, but I need him to trust me. I need to be the brother I used to be. So I nod, cursing myself for doing it.

"Okay."

He passes me out from the bathroom to the living room, and I hear the sound from the TV. I take his place on the bathroom floor and undress. I need to be alone for a while. The shower's hot, just like I want it, and I wash off my work, the smell of gasoline, and wish I could wash away my worry as well. When I turn off the water I hear Pony talk and laugh, and I stand still, listening with my eyes shut. Maybe Darry's right. Time and normal routines, that's what Pony needs. That will bring him back.

I put on my jeans and drapes the towel around my hair, walking to join my brother and Two-Bit but suddenly, I stop. My brother's alone in the couch.

"Pone?" I say, unsure. He snaps his mouth shut and looks at me. He pales some.

"Yeah?"

"Who are you talkin' to? Where's Two-Bit?"

He looks guilty.

"No one. He ain't here."

I can see that.

"I heard you, Pone. Did he just left?" I glance at the door, hoping he'll say yes.

He's watching me. I can tell he's debating with himself. What to say.

"No, he ain't here," he finally repeats. "I was just..." He trails off, but doesn't continue. I sit down next to him, takes off the towel from my still wet hair.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" I say, somewhere hoping he won't explain this. I'm sure he'll say something I don't want to hear. Pony gives me a funny look.

"Yeah. I know."

And then we sit quiet.

XXX

October 23 - evening

Darry talks to Pony in our room. I try to eavesdrop, but they're loud enough, I don't need to put an effort in it. Darry's mad that Pony didn't told him, Pony says it's no big deal. Darry disagrees, of course.

I stare at Steve, who shifts in his seat, but his eyes don't flicker away.

"You told Darry," I say to him. "Pony'll think it was me."

"Why didn't you?" he blurts fast, looking a bit annoyed. "He's your brother," he adds, defending himself.

"That's why."

Steve raises his eyebrows, shakes his head almost unnoticed. "Sometimes I don't understand you, Soda," he tells me while leaning back in the couch.

"You don't have a kid brother," I answer, and he makes a short laugh. It's bitter.

"I don't have any brother, you mean." He folds his arms.

"Not in blood, maybe."

First, he doesn't move. Then he gives me a small nod, a small smile. He knows what I mean. We're brothers, the gang. Even if not in blood, still brothers. We're family.

"Well, if it's that way, then technically Pony's my kid brother, too," he finally says with a smirk. "And I say that little brat needs a-"

"Stop it, Steve," I warn. "It's not me you don't understand," I continue. "It's Pony."

He takes his pack from the coffee table, puts a stick between his lips and lights it with a match. "Yeah," he says after taking a drag. "Ain't that true."

Something else is true. I don't understand Pony either. Not anymore.

XXX

October 23 - night

I don't know if he's mad or just tired, but my brother crawls to bed without a word. He turns restless, puffs on his pillow before he slips out an annoyed sigh and sinks back to it. His face's turned away from me. I slung my arm over him, like I always do, and he stiffens for a second. That hurt. But I let my arm be, and so does he.

"You're mad." It's not a question.

If he pretends to be sleeping, both him and I knows he doesn't trick me.

"I'm not," he lies, the voice muffled into his pillow. He sniffs. It takes some minutes before I understand.

"Pone, are you cryin'?" I put my hand on his shoulder and gently turn him towards me. The room is too dark, but with my fingers I can feel the wet on his cheeks. "What's the matter, honey?" I hope he's crying over our friends.

I hear him breathe, hear him trying to hide the sobs. Swallow them down. "I'm scared, Soda," he finally whispers, giving me an answer.

"Don't be," I pleads. "I'm here, Pone. You know that."

"You can't be here all the time."

His words feels like a knife. They're true.

"I'll try. Darry too. And Two-Bit took care of the Socs-"

He snorts. "I don't care about the Socs."

I brush away his hair from his forhead. "Then why are you scared, Pony?"

He's quiet, for a long time. His breaths gets slower, and maybe he's asleep. But then he whispers again.

"I think it's the dark."

XXX

Nine years earlier - summer

It's Keith's idea, but of course, Steve and I are both on it before he's even done with the talking. Darry who sits at the table eating a sandwich, sighs at us, but Pony tugs at my sleeve.

"Can I come too, Soda? Please!"

I can't say no to him. His cast went off yesterday, and he has some problem standing on his leg, the small scar on his ankle still there, pale red. It's the end of the summer, and I know he has been suffering cause of the heat and everything he couldn't do, like bathe and run and play wildly. Like a kid his age should do.

"Of course, Pony."

"Where? Mom answers when I ask her for permission.

"Maybe at the lake?" I try. She blinks and I sigh.

"Whattabout the park?"

"The back yard's a nice place," she says amused, and then it's decided. Keith complains but he can't do nothing about it. But I don't think his mom would allow him to camp anywhere outside our yard or his either.

Dad brings our tent out from the garage, it's only for four people but even if Johnny comes too, we're small enough to fit. Dad has to shout at us while putting it up, all of us too excited to really give him a help. When it's finally done, he picks up Pony and holds him up-side-down while me and Steve's wrestling.

"Pony and Johnny is so tiny they're like one," Keith says and throws in his sleeping bag. Johnny stands beside him, hugging Darry's, and Keith takes it from him, and it disappears into the tent.

"I'm not tiny," Pony says, and Dad puts him down with a smile. The grass is green and the sky's still blue, it's hours to sunset, but this is an adventure. None of us wants to go inside the house again. Not even to eat. So Mom comes out with a basket of sandwiches.

"Keep your socks on tonight," she advices before she gives us kisses on our cheeks. "Good night, boys. The back door is unlocked, just in case." She looks at Pony when she says the last.

"I'm not afraid, " he tells her, and I know it's true. But when it's dark outside, Keith puts the flashlight right under his chin, making his face ghost-like.

"Boo!" he says to Johnny, who squeezes his eyes and shudders back.

"Tell us a ghost story!" I bounce on my sleeping bag, pushing at Steve. He push me back with a growl, and I bump into Keith who drops the flashlight.

"Hey," he protests, picking it up again. "I know a story!"

He tells us about an abandoned house, a scary dad and frightened kids, steps on an attic and a hanged man in the basement, making everything up while he speaks. Now and then we all shouts out an idea, and Keith picks it up and involves it.

"It must be blood on the floor," Steve says. "It's always blood in a good story."

"Tell us about a mummy," I put in, shudder some at the thought of a man dressed in bandages, waking up to haunt us.

"Tell us about a kitten."

"Pony!" we protests.

"There's nothin' scary about a kitten," I add, and he looks disappointed.

"But I like kittens."

"Have you heard the story 'bout the big, red murder-kitten with razor claws?" Keith whispers scary-like.

It's way past midnight when we finally gets quiet. There are strange noises outside, and Johnny's eyes are huge. But my brother crawls to a ball next to me, his thumb sticks into his mouth, and he's the first one to calmly fall asleep.

XXX

October 23 - night

I reach out and flick on the lamp on the nightstand, Pony blinks when the light irritates his eyes.

"Turn it off," he moans. "I was asleep."

"No, you wasn't." I sit up. "What do you mean, the dark?"

He stops blinking and lies still. His hands picks with the cover, his gaze avoiding mine. "I don't know."

"You have never been scared of the dark, Pone," I say to him, and he turns his head away.

"Can we please sleep now?" is all he's saying, and I sigh.

"Why don't you talk to me?"

"I do."

"No you don't. Not like you used to do."

He shrugs. "I don't know what you want me to say."

Me neither.

I close my eyes and lies down. When I speak again, it's in an almost inaudible voice. "What are you scared of, Pone?"

This time he turns to me, snuggle beside me. He's warm. But he doesn't talk.

Beta-readed by bookwormgrl101.

Thank you so much for reviews!

I call Two-Bit Keith in the flashback on purpose. I don't know what you think, but I'm thinking that Two-Bit it's not a nickname a kid would give their friend. In my opinion it would be realistic he got it in his early teens. In the flashback he's only 9 years old and therefore I call him Keith.