A/N: So sorry this took so long! I'm having really really bad computer trouble but I've ordered something that should hopefully help. We'll see when it gets here!

Anyway, this chapter is Darry and Soda and credit for the prompt goes to VoicesOffCamera.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or the song Through Glass by Stone Sour.

Story Eight

Darry and Soda

"Through the Glass"

I'm looking at you through the glass

Don't know how much time has passed

Oh, god it feels like forever

But no one ever tells you that forever

Feels like home sitting all alone in your head

...

How much is real? So much to question

As epidemic of the mannequins

Contaminating everything

When thought came from the heart

It never did right from the start

Just listen to the noises

(Null and void instead of voices)

Before you tell yourself

It's just a different scene

Remember it's just different from what you've seen

-Through Glass, Stone Sour

It was like being in one of those fun houses that aren't near as fun as everyone likes to pretend. People were shouting, guns were firing, and somewhere a bomb was going off. He wished it would stop. He wished he could lay his gun down and not kill anymore.

He looked around wildly for Reynolds, his closest friend out here. His eyes landed on him a few feet away, surrounded by soldiers from the other side. Heart leaping to his throat, he moved to his ally quickly. He had to help him. But then something unexpected happened.

Reynolds started firing everywhere and the soldiers were shouting, screaming, and dying. They were all falling to the ground like lead. He felt his heart contract, as it always did when he saw anyone die. It didn't matter to him what side they were on. He didn't want anyone here to lose a life. He couldn't help it.

But a new sound joined the explosions, the screams, and the gunshots. Laughter. His eyes shot up to Reynolds who was actually bellowing with laughter, a grin plastered on his face as he continued to blow these people away. His friend, his comrade, lifted his gaze to his as he shot at them, and he said, "Curtis, you see this? It's extermination. We're pest control."

A gun shot then ripped through Renyolds' chest and another and another. And as he died he fell back with that same wild grin on his face.

As he stared in shock at his dead, grinning friend he was reminded what they really were.

Soldier.

Killer.

Murderer.

Monster.

"Soda?"

He jerked back to reality, looking up at his older brother, who was watching him with worried eyes. "You haven't touched your food."

"Oh." Soda looked down at it and felt his stomach twinge painfully. He pushed it away. "I'm not hungry."

"Soda…" It was Ponyboy's turn to fix his concerned gaze on him. Sodapop couldn't even bring himself to look at his younger brother.

"I'm going for a walk." Soda got up and walked out the door without a glance back.

How could he sit at the table with the brothers he loved so much and pretend nothing was wrong? How could someone like him- a murderer- sit with two people so pure? He couldn't. He didn't belong there. Soda reached into his pocket as he jogged down the porch steps and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He'd never been much of a smoker but he sure needed one for his nerves right now. If he was being honest, he used them for his nerves a lot lately.

Steve understood better than anyone. He'd been there. He knew what it was like. He knew the pain you felt when one minute you're there with a friend and the next minute you're there and they aren't anymore. He knew what it was like to look at your commander and try to figure out if they're making their decision because it's the right one or because they want to take down as many of the enemy as possible. He knew.

But even talking to Steve didn't bring the peace he had hoped for. When they talked there was something in Steve's eyes, something that he knew was in his as well. It was a shadow, a ghost, a darkness that reflected everything they had seen. Everything they had done.

His stomach dropped suddenly as he relived it all in great detail, each and every moment that had made him question his humanity, and Soda stumbled off the sidewalk and into some bushes near a house. He bent over and threw up, although he wondered how. He hadn't really had anything to eat recently. He wasn't hungry anymore.

Suddenly, a hand was on his back. Soda wiped his mouth and leaped away, turned quickly to see who it was.

It was Darry.

Soda let out a breath of relief. "You can't do that," he said as evenly as he could. "You're lucky I didn't turn on you." The moment the words were out of his mouth he felt like he'd be sick again. You're lucky I didn't turn on you. His words replayed again and again in his head. It was as if he were a dog who'd been kicked one too many times; one of those dogs that was considered a "bite risk". He couldn't be trusted.

"Pepsi-Cola…." Darry's voice was almost eerily calm. "Come here."

Soda looked at him wearily for half of a second then the very next thing he knew he was crossing to his big brother. And then he was slumped against him, shaking and crying against his will. Darry's arms were around him and they were suddenly the only things holding him up right.

"You're home," Darry whispered.

"No," Soda croaked. He pulled away and wiped his eyes. "No, you don't understand. It's like… I'm here. And I know I'm safe and I'm home. But at the same time it's… I'm not here with you."

Darry's eyebrows furrowed. "Soda, you're…"

"No." Soda shook his head. "Darry, listen. It's like there's something between us. I can see you but you're not there. Not really. There's a wall or something between us right now. It's just like I'm looking at you through the glass. And I still feel like… I still miss you guys." His voice broke. "I still miss the whole gang. I question everything, even how real this. After everything, it seems too simple. This can't be real. I can barely even tell how long it's been since I've left. It's just… Hell."

"Little buddy…"

Soda sat down on the grass suddenly, burying his face in his knees. "You can't begin to imagine, Dare… All the smells, all the sounds… All the screams." His voice cracked. "So many screams… And there is nothing you can do. Nothing. Not when you're causing half of them."

Darry sat down beside his little brother and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. "Sweetie, all you were expected to do was survive."

"No. That wasn't all." Soda lifted his head and pulled out another cigarette. "I was expected to kill. That was my job, Darry. I'm not the Soda that left here. I'm a killer now." He lit up and brought it to his lips.

"You are not a killer," Darry said. Somehow he managed to be gentle and stern at the same time. "You survived. You did what you had to."

"I killed people, Darry. People with families." Soda felt the street lights and stars blur as tears gathered in his eyes. "People with things to live for. Once I shot this guy… He had to be my age. What if he had an older brother? An older brother that he knew wouldn't be able to handle anything happening no matter how strong he was? What if he had a little brother who looked up to him?" He wiped his eyes. "Now that family is shattered. Because of me. Because I wanted to survive. What kind of person am I?" Before Darry could speak, Soda continued, "All I can think is what would Dad say?"

"Dad?" The surprise in Darry's voice stuck out and would have made Soda smile if he felt like he could manage it. Rarely could you surprise Darry.

"Yeah. Dad." He blew out his smoke slowly before bringing it back to his lips. "You remember what he used to say."

"Dad used to say a lot," Darry said slowly, not taking his eyes off his younger brother.

Soda cracked a humorless half-smile. "Yeah. But this is something he repeated a lot. "To be a man is to have mercy. To have empathy." He always told us to remember that the other person is real too. You never know what they're going through. It could be the same as you." His mouth drew itself into a thin line as he thought those words over again in his head. "What is that boy I killed was forced to be there too? For all I know, he had more to live for than I did."

"Don't say that. Soda, you can't keep questioning this. You can't. You'll drive yourself crazy."

"Dare." His voice was quiet but commanded attention. He met his older brother's eyes and said softly, "I think it's too late for that."

"You're not crazy."

Sodapop scoffed and turned away again, inhaling on his smoke. "I don't know. I might be. Those jungles… they're enough to drive anyone crazy. I saw it happen so many times… I went out there with someone I went to boot camp with, Brian Reynolds. He was a good guy, always calm. He'd be the first to cook up some joke to lighten the mood. He reminded me of good ole Two-Bit." He set his jaw as he remembered, his dark eyes hardening. "Darry, you should have seen him. We got there and he was still so calm. He saw the light when none of us could. But then he started to change… I watched a calm, almost innocent boy with no fighting experience at all become this… this warrior. You know, that's not even the right word." He looked up at the stars, hoping to get his gaze as far from Darry's as possible. It was getting harder and harder to look him in the eye. "He would have killed me if he thought he should. Hell, even if he was given the order but wasn't told why. He would have blown me away and I was his closest friend."

"Soda," Darry said softly but nothing could get Soda out of this trance now. He'd never spoken about Reynolds and now that he started he couldn't stop.

"You know, he really lost it Dare. When we went out there he'd be the last to shoot. The very last, including me. He couldn't imagine killing anything. The first time he shot someone in battle… He cried all night." He swallowed thickly and inhaled again, finding that his hand was starting to shake so bad it was tough to smoke. "But, you know, when those changes started… At first he was a hell of soldier. He went in, did his job, and that was that. He wasn't much of a risk. He wasn't so afraid that he was a trigger risk but he wasn't so cold that you had to question if he was all there. But that didn't last too long. He got to the point that…" He touched on the memory that haunted him the most, the one that kept him awake at night the most often, the one that would wake him from his sleep almost every night, and shuddered. "At one point, in one battle, he started shooting… He killed so many people…. And he laughed. He laughed Darry. He called my name and said… said "Curtis, you see this? It's extermination. We're pest control." And he died there, Dare. He died with that same grin on his face. That wild laughter just stuck there forever. And from then on whenever we went into battle I could hear him. I could hear his voice saying "Remember, Curtis, it's pest control." And every time I could see that grin of his. Every damn time."

For once, Darry had nothing to say. "You see," Soda said softly, "I've changed. I've looked evil in the face; I've danced with the devil. And I don't even know which side it was." He dropped his cigarette and stomped it out before grabbing another and lighting it. "I've learned. I know, I know that it isn't all right. I've seen what humanity is capable of and it's terrifying." He could tell from his brother's silence that he was really worrying him now. He had always been the one to see the good in the world, to stay so positive that everyone took it for granted that he had any problems at all. Look at that, he thought bitterly. I found another thing about me that's changed.

Finally, Darry spoke. "Sodapop Patrick Curtis." He spoke his name plainly, not as if he wanted his attention or as if he had a question. He just said it. Soda felt his curiosity pricked and furrowed his eyebrows, almost turning to face his brother. "Sodapop Patrick Curtis." Darry repeated it slowly, carefully saying every syllable. "That is your name," Darry said so softly it was almost a whisper. "Look at me."

He didn't. He couldn't. How could he look at his brother's eyes- so blue, like pure water- and be so tainted by the world.

"Sodapop Patrick Curtis." Now he was saying his name like their mom would when he was in trouble for something. Again, Soda couldn't get the strength to turn to him.

He heard movement and the next thing he knew Darry was kneeling in front of him, hands placed firmly on his shoulders. "Sodapop Patrick Curtis," he said again, softly this time. It wasn't commanding. Again, he was just saying it. Soda still avoided meeting his eyes.

"That is your name," Darry said clearly. "Not private. Not just Curtis. Sodapop Patrick Curtis. You're Sodapop. You remember why we always thought it was so fitting for you? Because you're fizzy. You're bubbly and nothing keeps you down. You poor more stuff on you and you don't stay down, you fizz back up again."

"That's called carbonation," Soda said dryly, although his voice cracked. It didn't seem like him anymore. It seemed to him that he was staying down now.

"No. It's you. Soda, you are the strongest person I have ever met. Ever. You are going to get through this." Darry was quiet for a minute then he said, "No. You know what? You won't."

That shocked Soda to his very core. He looked up, finally meeting his brother's eyes, knowing that his brown ones were showing the hurt he felt. Even his own brother didn't believe in him anymore.

"You're going to do so much more than survive," Darry said softly. "You're going to thrive. Because you are Sodapop Patrick Curtis and that is what you do."

"I don't feel like I'm even the same person anymore," Soda whispered meekly.

"That's because you're thinking of yourself as Curtis or Private instead of Sodapop. You're treating yourself like a soldier."

"If I'm not a soldier then what am I?"

"That's easy," Darry said softly. "You're a mechanic. You're a greaser. You're a brother. You're a cook, a weird cook but a cook none the less. You're a friend. You're a son. And Dad is still as proud of you as he has always been, so is mom."

"How?" Soda croaked, feeling tears streaking down his face.

"Because you feel like this," Darry told him, pushing his hair back. "You're a mess and you're punishing yourself and beating yourself up. You feel bad. You are not Reynolds. You didn't laugh. You did not lose yourself out there. You're still you. And you made it home."

That was enough for Soda. He broke down, sobbing on his brother's shoulder. Darry took his cigarette from him and held him tightly for a long time.

When he finally gathered himself enough to pull away and wipe at his eyes, he said softly, "So you really think I'm still me?"

"I know it enough for both of us," Darry whispered. "Whenever you start doubting it, you come to me." He rested a hand on Soda's shoulder. "Because you ain't looking at me through the glass. I'm really here. You're really here. This is real."

Soda nodded slowly and took a deep breath. "Let's go home."

"Okay, little buddy." Darry got to his feet slowly, never taking his eyes off Soda. Soda stood up and brushed himself off then started down the street with his brother. He reached into his pocket and drew out his pack of cigarettes.

He looked at it for a moment and opened it then stopped. He could feel Darry watching him and maybe that was what made him close the pack and hand it to his brother. "What's this?" Darry asked. But Soda could tell he already knew by the smile playing at his lips.

"I'm Sodapop Patrick Curtis," Soda said, feeling a small smile prick at his own lips. "And Sodapop doesn't smoke."