Author's Note: Well I hope those of you in the States had a good holiday this past week! Fair warning: this chapter was actually written in the car during my 14 hour ride home from visiting family, so hopefully it's still good!

Also for those of you who may be interested I got some inspiration for another multi-chapter Outsiders fic focused on Soda. I actually wrote a good chunk of it on the 14 hour car ride out to see family at the beginning of the week, but I'm going to hold off on posting it until I finish one of my other stories, Haunted. But it's something to look forward to in the next few weeks. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders.

Chapter Fourteen

Exhaustion

The next week passed almost as slowly as the time had passed while Soda had been confined in the army hospital. Without comment he had returned to sleeping in his own bedroom and neither Pony nor Darry said anything about it. His nightmares immediately became worse, almost as bad as they had been his first night back at home. In his nightmares the lines between right and wrong were blurred and he was unsure whether he was the hero or the enemy. As a result he was getting even less sleep than usual and was continually exhausted.

Several nights Soda made enough of a commotion to cause Darry to run into his room. He didn't fail to notice that Pony never came. But each time he would refuse Darry's comfort, insisting that he was simply restless and that the nightmares didn't trouble him. He knew that Darry didn't believe him, but somehow that didn't bother Soda much. He knew that Darry didn't trust him anyway and it felt like it didn't much matter what he said.

Soda felt increasingly distant from not only his brothers but Steve and Two-Bit as well. Before the war Soda had been lively, always grinning and joking around with his friends. Now he felt sullen and he was quiet, mulling around in his own dismal thoughts. He just didn't feel like himself anymore.

Soda started to go on more walks by himself. He figured the more that he was able to move around the stronger his muscles would get. He was desperate to be strong enough to walk without a cane, thinking things would go back to normal again if he could just overcome this injury. He did his best to try to ignore the fact that instead of feeling better, all his walks seemed to be doing was make his leg even more sore.

One afternoon Soda left work early to go off on his own again. He did his best to ignore Steve's disapproving gaze as he clocked out. He was glad that Steve had stopped bothering to offer to drive him home when he left early. It made it easier when he didn't have to explain himself.

As the sun began to set Soda listened to his own footsteps echoing off the pavement, every other one accented by the clunk of his cane. There weren't many places that he could go, so he usually ended up at the park. As the evenings grew colder there was less and less of a chance that he might run in to any other people there.

Soda groaned softly to himself as he finally reached the park, his leg beginning to throb. He limped over to a nearby bench and sat down heavily, sighing with relief as the pressure was taken off his injury. He leaned back and placed his cane next to him, leaning it up against the seat of the bench. He flexed his figures, glad to be free of the cane if only for a few minutes. He folded his hands together and leaned forward resting his elbows lightly on his thighs, careful to shift his weight slightly to his right.

He must have dozed off because when he opened his eyes again – not even really realizing he had closed them in the first place – it was significantly darker. He quickly realized what had awoken him. There was the loud laughter of children running toward the street away from the park. Soda automatically reached to his side where he knew his cane should have been and felt nothing but empty air. He yelled loudly cursing the kids that he now could see were running away with his cane, but to no avail. Not even a minute later the kids were gone from sight and Soda was alone.

Soda sat still as a stone for several long minutes, seething just below the surface. Now what was he supposed to do? Slowly he tried to stand but a searing pain shot through his leg and his muscles immediately gave out as he fell back down to the bench. He cursed loudly and violently slammed his fist into the back of the bench, feeling his anger peak.

Soda knew that he wasn't really in trouble. As it got darker Darry was sure to come looking for him. And Soda was in a very predictable spot, a spot that Darry had found him in before. Darry wouldn't have any trouble tracking him down. That didn't make him feel any better at this point though. He felt so helpless. He hunched his shoulders and hung his head, placing his hands on the back on his head, feeling defeated.

It was maybe twenty minutes later and Soda had not moved an inch. He heard footsteps approaching him and he assumed that he knew who it was. He glanced up as the person sat beside him and was surprised to find that it was not who he expected.

"Hey Soda," Two-Bit said easily.

"Hi," Soda said flatly.

There were several minutes of silence between them. Then Two-Bit glanced around and seemed to slowly realize what was missing. "Where's your cane?"

Soda angrily scoffed. "Guess I dozed off," he said. "Some punk ass kids stole it."

"Kids today," Two-Bit said, pulling a bottle of beer from under his jacket and taking a swig. "No respect." He offered the bottle to Soda who gratefully accepted, taking a long swig before handing it back.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"Anytime," Two-Bit said. "Tell me they at least let you have alcohol over there."

Soda turned and looked at Two-Bit carefully as his friend stared straight ahead, just as careful to avoid looking at the wounded veteran beside him.

"Yeah there was alcohol," Soda confirmed slowly.

"Good," Two-Bit said a bit flatly as he raised the bottle to his lips again.

Soda continued to study Two-Bit curiously, leaning forward slightly. "It doesn't help much though," he said quietly. Two-Bit looked over sharply, fear betrayed in his eyes just for a moment. "The things they make you do over there… I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy." He paused, his face taking on a dark look. "I know that's why you guys are afraid of me."

"What do you mean?" Two-Bit asked, doing a poor job of acting surprised.

"You don't have to tip toe around me, you know," Soda said. "It's okay that you're afraid of getting drafted. I'm afraid of any of you getting drafted too. So you don't have to hide it from me."

Two-Bit was quiet for a minute, staring down at his beer bottle. "I never thought I'd be so afraid of getting the mail every day," he said quietly with a humorless laugh as he took another drink.

Soda nodded knowingly. "Trust me, I get that," he said. "With one letter the government can tear your whole life apart."

Two-Bit sighed. He looked over at Soda. "So how are you planning on getting home?"

Soda sighed heavily, not liking the sudden chance of subject. Two-Bit was clearly uncomfortable talking about the draft. He would rather avoid the reality of the situation for as long as possible. Unfortunately the reality of the situation was an intricate part of Soda's everyday life now.

"I suppose crawling home wouldn't really work," Soda muttered sarcastically.

"Darry will probably be along with the truck soon," Two-Bit said, eyeing the sun that was disappearing behind the nearby houses.

Soda groaned inwardly. "I'd rather get back before Darry sends out a search party. Anyway, he's been working late lately." He tiredly rubbed his eyes, hating where this was going. He knew he had no choice though. "If I could lean on you…" He let the thought hang, allowing Two-Bit to finish it himself.

"Sure you can," Two-Bit said with a shrug. He reached into his jacket and pulled out another bottle of beer and handed it over to Soda. "I think you'll need this more than I will."

"You got about eight more bottles stashed in there?" Soda asked with a dry laugh as he popped the lid.

"Nope, last one," Two-Bit said.

"Figures," Soda said. He downed the entire bottle in a minute. Unfortunately it wasn't enough to give him much of a buzz so it wouldn't do much to dull the pain in his leg. "Alright, let's do this."

Two-Bit stood and turned and pulled Soda to his feet. Soda put his arm over Two-Bit's shoulders as Two-Bit securely held him up. It felt eerily similar to the night that Soda received his injury but he tried very hard not to think about it. They started off across the park and Soda did his best not to wince too much.

The trek was slow and painful. By the time they finally got to their street Soda was almost dizzy with the amount of pain in his leg. He felt relief wash over him as the house finally came into sight. In the dim light he saw a figure walking around the truck in the driveway to get to the house. Darry must have just gotten home. Soda had been hoping that they might beat him home so there was a chance he wouldn't have to know about this, but luck was not with him tonight.

Darry spotted the two of them hobbling down the street and stopped in his tracks, clearly confused by what he was seeing.

"What happened?" Darry asked as Soda and Two-Bit made their way up the walk.

"Nothing," Soda mumbled. He turned his head toward Two-Bit, leaning even more heavily on his friend just to stay on his feet. "Two-Bit, I really need to sit down." His voice was strained with the effort. "Just put me on the porch step."

"You sure?" Two-Bit asked, cocking an eyebrow. "It's only a little farther to the recliner in the living room."

Soda eyed the steps of the porch. Ascending those four stairs suddenly seemed like an impossible task. "No, I need to sit," he repeated.

"Okay," Two-Bit said, sounding unsure.

They reached the steps and Two-Bit slowly lowered Soda down to sit on one of the middle steps. Soda grimaced hard, biting back a groan as he stretched his bad leg out in front of him.

"Soda, what happened?" Darry repeated, coming to stand next to Two-Bit.

"I went for a walk," Soda said, rubbing his thigh.

Darry looked over Soda and then looked at Two-Bit, realization dawning on him. "Where's your cane?"

Soda sighed heavily and rested his head in his hands. He was tired and not in the mood to deal with an 'I told you so' lecture right now. He knew that Darry was always worried something would happen to him while he was out on his own and now something had.

"Can we please not talk about that right now?" he mumbled into his hands. He knew that Darry could and would just get the story from Two-Bit later. His head was starting to swim as his exhaustion from the entire week was finally starting to catch up with him.

A minute later Darry sat down next to him, though he was careful to keep his distance. Soda didn't even look up. "C'mon Soda," Darry said gently. "Let's go inside. It's cold, you'll get sick if you stay out here."

Soda knew that he was right. His anger had melted away on the walk over leaving only his extreme fatigue behind. "I just… can't walk any farther," Soda muttered, his voice shaking.

There was a short pause. "I can carry you," Darry said carefully.

"I'm not a child," Soda said immediately, though he couldn't muster much force behind his tone.

"No, you're not a child," Darry agreed. "Just because you need a little help, it doesn't make you a child. It's only been a few weeks Soda. It's going to take time for you to get better. In the meantime, please just let the people who care about you help you."

Soda knew that Darry was right. There shouldn't be any shame in getting help, especially after everything he had been through in the past year. He still hated the idea, but for now he decided that all he could do was accept it. Otherwise he would be sleeping on the porch tonight.

"Okay," Soda said quietly.

Darry slowly moved closer to him and slid one hand under his knees while wrapping his other arm securely around his back. Soda reached up and wrapped his arms around his big brother's neck as Darry slowly lifted him up off of the porch step with a small grunt of effort. Soda was vaguely surprised that he was still able to lift him like that. He leaned his head into Darry's chest and closed his eyes, feeling for the moment safe and protected.

"What happened? Is he okay?" As they entered the house he could hear Pony's voice sounding worried.

"He's fine, just tired." Soda could hear Darry's deep voice vibrating through his chest as he pressed his head up against it. He was glad that Darry was making it sound like no big deal to their little brother. He couldn't take any more pity.

He thought that Darry would just put him in the recliner in the living room, but instead he headed down the hall and entered Soda's bedroom. As gently as he could he placed Soda down on his bed and Soda actually felt reluctant to let go of his brother. His eyes remained closed and he was only vaguely aware of Darry carefully pulling off his shoes as he drifted off to sleep.