The waiting room was the absolute worst. I couldn't take the fact that I had to sit here and question whether my brothers were dying in the other room. I wasn't a religious man, but I silently prayed to whoever was listening. Please come back to us. This stress was too much on me, as well as Steve. He was sitting next to me bouncing his knee and biting on his hangnail. I could only imagine the thoughts racing around his head. Soda was the only one who could calm his anger, and if he didn't make it, Steve would never recover. Just another person that would be lost because of this disaster. How do bad things keep happening to us? Not only was I feeling terrible emotionally, but physically as well.

That nurse was right. Two hours later, and I was still feeling the effects of donating all that blood. I was feeling lightheaded and I had a whopper of a headache, but I couldn't let on to that. I haven't slept in over twenty four hours. I worked eight hours pounding nails on a roof and another two at the warehouse lifting boxes. All I ate today was two sandwiches and a handful of chips. I planned to have more of a formal dinner when Ponyboy got home. I was dragging, and Steve was catching on.

"Dare, I want you to tell me honestly how you're feeling." He had the same look in his eye as he did before a rumble. He was upset, not at me, but at this shitty situation. I was beyond pissed at the situation too. I needed to be strong for my brothers, but I couldn't lie to him after what he did for Ponyboy.

"Honestly, I feel like shit. I've never been so tired and hungry in my life."

"You know what you need," Steve said, standing up. "You need something to eat and a rest. I don't know if you'll be able to get the rest now, but I can get you something from the cafeteria." He stood up from his chair, but didn't get a change to leave because of the approaching doctor.

"Mr. Curtis," Dr. Nelson, the emergency room doctor, said. "They pulled through. Both of your brothers are out of surgery and resting in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit." Relief flooded over me and almost sent me to my knees again, this time because I was filled with happiness. It struck me funny that they were in the pediatric center, but technically they were still both kids.

"Can I see them?"

"Of course, but I can only allow family back at this point in time. They are still both in critical condition. Only time will tell if they are able to pull through. Let me inform you that we had to remove on of Ponyboy's kidneys. The internal damage was beyond our repair. He can live without a kidney, and it won't affect his quality of life. Now," He turned to Steve. "Are you family too.

"Yes, he's our cousin," I lied. Steve would have me by the neck if I didn't let him back there to see Soda. He's been through thick and thin with us. After all he's done for us, I couldn't deny him that. He's close enough to be our cousin anyway. He's more like a brother.

Dr. Nelson left and Steve said no more and trailed behind me down the hospital corridor. I wasn't totally sure where I was going, but I followed the signs that were pointing to the pediatric floor. As soon as I saw the walls painted with rainbows and farm animals, and Mickey Mouse posters lined the nurse's station, I knew I was in the right place. If Soda and Pony were to see this, I knew they would groan. They hated to be treated like babies, especially Ponyboy.

I asked a nurse who was wearing Bugs Bunny scrubs where to go to find my brothers, and she pointed me to one rooms, containing both of them.

I was not prepared for what I was about to see. Nothing in my life has prepared me for this moment, not even seeing my parents in the state they were in. Pony and Soda looked worse.

My eyes took in Soda first. My happy-go-lucky brother was lying on his back with more tubes and wired attached to him than I can count on two hands. He had a ventilator that was forced down his throat and was breathing for him. The machine that is was attached to his throat was breathing for his bad lungs that refused to draw air in on their own. He had a chest tube taped to his side with some sort of strange liquid dripping through the clear plastic and being drained. I saw more thick, white bandages on his body than I did skin, and what I did see of skin was covered in bruises and cuts. His hands were wrapped in bandages, and I saw trickles of blood leaking through. I guessed he cut his hands on the glass from the truck. They would have to be changed soon. He had a cut on his forehead and both of his eyes were turning black with bruises. Even when woke up, he wouldn't be able to walk because his knee was in a splint that ran the length of his hip to ankle.

Pony looked similar to Soda, only he looked so much smaller in that big hospital bed. He too, had a ventilator rammed down his throat. His face was littered with bruises and cuts, and he had a cut that looked eerily like Johnny's. Heavy bandages was over his abdomen, from where they cut into his body. They removed an organ of his that he could never get back. He never had any problems with his kidneys before, and now it was gone. Removed, so his life would be saved. If the one kidney he had failed, what would he use as his backup? His head was propped up for his concussion, his second one. I knew from past experience that you weren't supposed to sleep on a concussion, but the doctors had him sedated so he wouldn't feel any pain. I hoped to God that he wouldn't have any brain damage from it. That would hurt me more than any pain he was experiencing.

I was frozen in my spot by the door. I couldn't step forward. I couldn't make my feet move. The only thing I was focusing my eyes on were the two red bags that dripped into their arms. That was my blood flowing into Soda. That was Steve's blood flowing into Pony. They could take all my blood, I don't care. Their lives are more important than mine. Take it, take anything you want.

Steve made a sound from beside me. He was already pale from donating blood, but now he was whiter than the sheets that covered Soda's legs.

"Steve, sit down."

He shook his head no.

"Steve, sit down, now."

He obeyed, and shuffled weakly over to a plastic chair in the corner of the room. "Damn it," He muttered and thrust his arms angrily over his chest. I had a feeling he wouldn't be any help to me anymore, and I understood why.

I forced myself to move my feet, my previous exhaustion and hunger forgotten. I dragged the other chair so I could sit in between them. If they didn't make it, well, I don't think I would either.

XXXXXX

"Alright Mathews, what's got your panties in a twist?" Tim asked from next to me at Buck's. He had joined me about fifteen minutes ago and I have yet to say one word to him. Pretty out of character for me.

"Nothin'" I lied, draining the last of my sixth beer. I shook my empty glass at Buck, silently asking for a refill, but he shook his head.

"Last call was ten minutes ago," He answered.

"That won't stop you Two-Bit," Tim joked, and he was right, but I didn't find that funny. Not tonight. "Alright, cut the bullshit," Tim continued. "You're up to something."

"Sodapop and Ponyboy Curtis were in a car accident tonight. They might not make it," I said flatly. It scared me how my voice lacked emotion. The alcohol running through my body was numbing me, taking away the pain, just like I hoped it would. Once the buzz wore off, I'd be back to where I started: hating myself and having guilt eat at my insides.

Tim stared back at me, wide-eyed. "Then why the fuck aren't you over there?"

I quickly explained to him why, and he scoffed. "Get you head out of your ass and go to the hospital. I thought you were loyal to your gang, no matter what. I hope I haven't misjudged you."

It wasn't like me to run when the times got tough. That's what my old man did, and I vowed to never be like him. Tim was right. I needed to man up, and get over to the hospital. Even if Darry rammed my head through the wall with anger, I still needed to stay. I might not be able to change the past, but I could try to forgive myself and move on. It's easier said than done, but still, it was something.

Hopefully supporting Darry could be the one thing I did right tonight.