A/N: Whoohoo, an update on time! The idea for this goes to xxLiveLoveReadxx. I hope ya'll enjoy it!
Story Ten
Ponyboy and Two-Bit
"The Greater Influence"
Being laughing and joyful all the time was exhausting. It really was. Some days it was easy as anything. It made sense. It was nice. It was better than being upset. But laughing and making jokes had been exhausting tonight. Two-Bit sat in his car, keys in his hand, eyes closed. He couldn't even bring himself to start the car and pull out of the Curtis' driveway. He really couldn't.
If he was being honest, which he usually wasn't, his heart was still heavy from the losses of Johnny and Dallas. But there wasn't much he could do about it. He took a deep breath and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Although that wasn't what weighed on him today.
He closed his eyes, reluctantly thinking over his day. It had been going all right, not too bad really. But then he'd gotten in trouble at school. It wasn't his fault. It really wasn't. He blamed Eric, really. Eric was the idiot that started the fight. You don't insult a man's girl and not expect to get punched in the face. Deserved or not, the blow had landed him a trip to Mr. West's office.
Oh, Mr. Scott. He was the worst principal in history. He didn't care about the students and everyone knew it. He cared about his paycheck and about golf and other stupid crap. Unfortunately for Two-Bit, Mr. Scott hated had a problem with him. That problem, however, wasn't anything Two-Bit could control. It was a problem he had with his father. It seemed that about a week before he took off, his good for nothing dad had been caught in bed with Mr. West's life and owed him a fair amount of poker money.
Two-Bit's lips curled into a disgusted snarl as he thought about it. No wonder his father skipped out. Was there anyone in this town he hadn't screwed over? Probably not. We're better off without him, Two-Bit thought. But thinking it just wasn't enough. He ached to show him, to show him that they didn't need him. He left us and we picked up the pieces. He never made a difference.
A knock at the window made Two-Bit jump, he nearly hit his horn in the process. He turned to his passenger window. Ponyboy was standing outside, arms crossed over his bare arms. Sighing to himself, Two-Bit nodded at him to tell him it was unlocked. When was that kid going to start remembering jackets?
Pony slid into the passenger seat. "Hey," he greeted casually.
"Hey. You gonna tell me why you just gave me a heart attack?"
"I was worried about you."
Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow. "Worried about me?"
The younger boy cocked an eyebrow right back at him. "Yeah. That idea so alien to you?"
Two-Bit raised both eyebrows, torn between feeling impressed at the kid's attitude and already feeling annoyed at the kid's insistence. Pony was in a mood to pry, that much was obvious. This was going to suck. "Go get a jacket," he said instead of answering. "I want to go for a walk and I have a feeling you're going to follow me."
Ponyboy got out of the car and went in the house without answering. Two-Bit opened the door and stepped out, pulling on his leather jacket as he did so. He could recognize a lost battle when he saw one and knew he was better off on a walk where he could easier find something to distract the kid from his questions than he was in the car.
Pony came back with his Jean jacket and started down the driveway, passing Two-Bit and then not even bothering to see if he was following. Cocking a smile, Two-Bit followed. "You got a weed?" he asked, hands in his pockets.
"Even better," Pony said, pulling a beer from inside his jacket and handing it to him.
Two-Bit grinned and took it. "This is why we keep you around kid."
Pony rolled his eyes. "So what happened? You've been off all day."
Two-Bit turned his eyes on the youngest Curtis, taken aback. "You noticed?"
Ponyboy scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Of course I noticed," he replied. "I know you, Two-Bit. Apparently better than you think I do. I know better than to think you never have bad days. So what happened?"
Two-Bit hesitated, thinking it over. Did he really want to get into it? Not particularly so he took a drink of his beer and shrugged his shoulders. "You know," he said nonchalantly. "It was just one of those days."
"Just one of those days," repeated Ponyboy. "I'm sorry but I don't quite believe it. Something's bothering you."
"Oh?" Two-Bit raised his eyebrows lazily at him. "Now what do you think it is?"
"I'm not sure yet. But if you don't tell me I'll bug you and poke around until either you cave or I figure it out. So you could save us both a lot of effort and tell me."
Two-Bit eyed him thoughtfully. He was right. If Ponyboy was anything he was persistent. With a sigh, he looked up to the sky. "Fine. Fine. I got into a fight at school with Eric, the dick bag."
"I heard," Pony said slowly. "I heard you popped him a good one in the nose."
"Damn right. It was a beautiful hit but it got me sent to Mr. Scott. So Mr. Scott," he practically spat the name, "decided to lecture me for twenty minutes about decency." He could sense Ponyboy wondering what the big deal was here and kept going before he could ask, "It didn't take him long to tell me "The only other person I've ever seen who was so careless about getting into fights was your old man." And then he stopped. And he looked at me." He paused to take a long drink before continuing, "And he said, "Well, I suppose I was right about you after all then. You are on the right track to turn out like him after all. How soon before you skip out?" What a son of a bitch. What right did he have?" Two-Bit was seeing red as he spoke, feeling his rage bubbling to the surface. "What right did that sick bastard have? Who the hell does that? Who the hell just lets anger and frustration get the best of them? Who does this shit?"
"He was wrong to pretend he knows you," Pony said softly. "He was wrong to pretend that he knows where you're headed."
Two-Bit looked at him, surprised. "I didn't mean him," he spat. "I meant my father. If you can call him that." With a sudden burst of fury, he threw his now empty bottle (that he hardly even remembered drinking) at a tree. "What the hell? He had two kids! I don't so much mind him leaving me. I get it. I'm a handful. Everyone knows I won't amount to anything. But Lucy? And Mom? What right did he have?" Voice shaking, Two-Bit buried his face in his hands to muffle a shout. "They don't deserve this! Mom don't deserve to work two jobs and Lucy don't deserve to think there's something wrong with her because he didn't want her!"
He could feel Pony's worried gaze on him but couldn't calm himself down. He'd awakened the beast and the beast was angry. "What if Mom never gets to relax? What if she never gets to not worry? Even after we're gone, she'll still have to work like a dog! It ain't fair! She shouldn't have to! It's his fault! It's his fault her hair's going gray and it's his fault that she don't ever date! It's his fault she don't trust anyone!
"And then there's Lucy. What if she gets into trouble because she don't know what a functional relationship is? I worry about her every damn day. Because she don't know. Mom and Dad ain't never been functional. Never. She ain't never seen anything decent from men!"
"She has," Ponyboy said quietly.
Two-Bit fixed his furious gray gaze on him, silently demanding an explanation.
"She has you," Pony said. "You don't give yourself enough credit. You're going places."
Two-Bit made a sound of disbelief. "Yeah. Jail. It ain't been that long since I've been in."
Pony snorted. "Don't brag about that. That was for doing handstands in public with Soda and you know it."
"So I'm a public nuisance. That can always become something else."
"You won't let it." His voice was tough, hard. "You have people you'd do anything for. That's why you're upset. You are not your father. He was a selfish pig who only did things for himself."
Two-Bit looked away.
"Your family loves you. And that matters to you. You'd never run out on anyone. Not even us."
"He might be right," he said simply. "We don't know. I steal. I'm proud of it. I fight. I love it. I smoke, I drink, I party. I ain't no saint."
"No one asked you to be."
Two-Bit's jaw was beginning to ache from having it set so tight. He rubbed it, heart pounding. He didn't want to look at Ponyboy. His words were making sense but he didn't want them to. He felt like every time he told himself those same things he was lying to himself. He didn't want to do it again. It was time to be honest.
"He had no right to leave," he said after a long time. "He had no right. A family is a commitment." An angry smirk pulled at his lips. "Or jail. Don't do the crime if you can't do the time, right?"
"It ain't like jail and you know it." Ponyboy was getting impatient with him now, he could hear it. But he shouldn't be surprised. Soda had always been the person to go to for sympathy. And he hadn't gone to Soda. He hadn't gone to anyone. But if he was being honest with himself he was glad that it was Ponyboy who had decided to talk to him. "It's a commitment. That's it. It ain't jail. You're forgetting that some parents do know their stuff. They do care. You'll be one of those."
"How do you know? It's not in my genetic code," Two-Bit spat bitterly.
He felt Pony's eyes tearing into him. "Yes it is," he said, sternly yet simply. "You're forgetting your mother."
Two-Bit froze and slowly turned to the younger boy. "I didn't…." But it was true. He was every bit his mother's son as he was his father's. More so, humor wise anyway, as well as patience.
"That's right. I've been at your house. You ain't nothing like him. But you're everything like her." Ponyboy's green eyes were blazing as he spoke, determination etched in every bit of him. "You gotta stop thinking that you're just like your dad. You ain't nothing like him. You ain't just "Mathews' son"."
Two-Bit thought the words over carefully. "But-"
"No butts. What got you thinking you were like him anyway?"
"He's a drunk."
"You ain't a drunk. You enjoy a good drink, you like to party, and yeah, you're drunk a lot. But you asked me for a weed, not a drink. You drank soda at dinner tonight, not alcohol."
"I lift things."
"Who don't lift things? Greasers always lift things."
"You don't."
"Yeah, well, I got Darry as a brother. All I'm saying is you ain't him. You seem to think you are or that you ought to be. But you ain't. You're more like your mom. Not your dad. The sooner you realize it the better. Ignore Mr. Scott. You know as well as I do that this was never really about him. This was about your old man."
Two-Bit looked away. It was true. Mr. Scott brought him up and it had just torn away the lazy bandage that Two-Bit had taped over his fear of turning out like his father. The fear had been with him for years. It was something he'd grown used to, managed to ignore most days. But not today. Well, not until now. But now he was thinking about his mother. She had raised him. So why had he always assumed he was like his father? His father had had little to no influence on his life.
Finally, feeling some of his usual personality begin to creep up on him, he cast the kid a grin. "I would never, no matter how desperate I was for a drink, drink Soda. I ain't a vampire."
Pony rolled his eyes, although smiling himself. "Shut up." He looked at Two-Bit for a long moment, studying him, then said, "You want to go back? You can go home and…" He let the statement hang in the air but they both knew he meant: talk to your mom.
"You know," he said slowly, "I think that's a damn good idea."
The two of them began walking back and Two-Bit threw him a grin. "By the way, thanks for bringing me that beer."
"I didn't know you were going to throw it," Pony replied with another eye roll. "I wouldn't have bothered."
"I'm shocked! You wouldn't have allowed your friend a much needed physical outlet?"
"I don't think throwing a bottle counts as a physical outlet."
"What would you have me do? Run laps?"
"I would."
"I'm a lounger, not a runner."
"Of course you are."
Two-Bit grinned at his friend. He wasn't sure how it had happened, or when for that matter. But somewhere along the way, the kid of the group had grown up and become a hell of a friend. And it was, without a doubt, something to be thankful for.