WARNING: Contains Drugs

"What's wrong?" she slurred, leaning back as her eyes tried to focus on mine.

I couldn't for the life of me form anymore then a few words in my brain, let alone a full sentence. "Didn't you wanna dance?" I slurred out, hoping my words were somewhat clear.

"Yeah, but we can do this first." she said, pressing her lips against mine again. She moved her mouth against mine, as I relaxed slightly doing the same. It felt nice; no wonder Soda and Steve are always bragging about how good it is. I felt her tongue slide across my lips, as her cherry flavoured lips consumed mine. She tasted a mix of cherry and alcohol; a sweet summer cherry cocktail.

She broke the kiss, leaning back. "Hmm, that was good."

I couldn't agree more, "Sure was..."

She took my hand and led me over to the couch, all the cushions had been taken so I leaned on the arm pulling Annette in against me. On the wooden coffee table sat small bags of white powder, and white lines of that same powder with some rolled up paper bills.

"Hey baby, you want some of the good stuff?" a dark haired guy on the far end cushion asked Annette. He stood up coming around to us. "Here doll, why don't ya try a little?" he pressed a rolled note into her hand, then placed his hands on her hips leading her to the coffee table. I'm sure she was too drunk to realise what she was doing, before crouching down and sniffing a good amount of the powder.

Hell, I was too drunk to realise what I was doing. If I had of been sober, I'd been out that door and across the other side of town. Both Darry and Soda, and not to mention Two-Bit and Steve had given me lectures on drugs, and not to do them. Both my brothers promised if they ever caught me doing it they'd tan my hide.

I lifted my beer bottle up taking a deep swig, as Annette stood up with two of her fingers coated in the white powder. She stood in front of me, as my focus had her swimming in and out of my vision.

"Open..." she slurred, as she tried to stay steady on her feet.

Open what? I returned her with a blank stare unsure of what she meant.

"...your mouth." I obliged, as she slid the two fingers into my mouth, coating the roof of my mouth and under my tongue in the powder. After a few moments my mouth felt really numb, almost the same feeling as when you go to the dentist and they give an anaesthetic to numb your jaw.

The effects didn't take hold until another ten minutes after, but boy when it did, I felt on top of the world; my energy felt endless, and I had a million and one things to say, almost talking off Annette's ear but I don't think she noticed much cause she was laughing and talking just the same. I pulled her out onto the dance floor, our unsteady swaying and spinning overtaking the speed of Ben E. King's 'Stand By Me'. I noticed Curly coming from the hallway adjoining onto the living room, holding Robin's hand as she trailed just behind him.

"Hey Curly, man." I yelled over the top of everyone, getting a few looks from the teens around us.

He led his girl over to us, "Hey Curtis, great party man."

I looked to the knock-out red-head beside him, "You score, man?" I asked, as Robin shot me a scowl.

"Hell, yeah!" He grinned, slapping me five, before I felt his eyes on me, feeling uncomfortable when he narrowed them. "You on smack, kid?"

My mind was so messed up I couldn't even start for an explanation, even though my mouth was doing a pretty good job at talking and I couldn't shut up for the life of me - but you know what, I was too drunk to care, and it actually felt kinda good.

"You know your brothers are gonna kick your ass. Right?"

Who was Curly to tell me what to do, he should've been the least person to care; after all his the one that likes to break rules. I lifted my beer bottle, and held it in front of him as he watched at me, then chugged the remaining beer from the bottle.

"Whatever man, don't come cryin' to me when your brothers bust ya one."

He grabbed Robin's hand again, and led her towards the kitchen. That last beer didn't go down well, instantly I felt pale and clammy, knowing what was coming next I bolted for the bathroom. The door was locked, shit... if whoever didn't get out of there soon, the returning beer will be all over the bathroom door. I pounded my fists on the door, in a hurry to get in as a males voice called out, "Wait."

I pounded on the white painted wood again, just as the door opened. The guy stepped out, "Geez dude, give a guy a minute." I paid him no attention as I bolted for the toilet, and practically threw myself over the bowl, as everything I drank in the last couple of hours came out - the alcohol burning the back of my throat as it made its return.

"You right, dude?" the same guy asked.

Did I look right? I couldn't answer him though, as I practically had my head down the toilet bowl spilling my guts, with my hands firmly gripping the rim so I didn't fall in.

"I need, Soda," I breathed out, in between waves. I couldn't think of anything else, I needed my brother. He was always there when I was sick.

"Sure dude, I'll see what I can get." He said, then left the bathroom. It never occurred to me then that he hadn't realised I'd meant Sodapop, as in my brother... but rather the beverage.

A moment later I felt a soft hand resting on my shoulder blade. "You ok, Ponyboy?" Annette slurred, as she rubbed my back a little.

"Hmm..." I groaned, as another wave hit, almost sending me headfirst into the bowl. I felt tears slip from the corner of my eyes, and my throat burned something awful. "Soda, I need Soda," my voice sounding a slurred moan.

"Your brother?" she asked, gripping me to keep me from falling further in. At least one person understood.

"Hmm...," I groaned again, and nodded my head; realising that was a bad move, as my skull gave a violent throb. I immediately let one hand go from the rim, gripping my forehead and heard some shuffling to my right, I leaned up enough to see Annette rummaging through her handbag, pulling out a pink glitter pen and an old shopping docket.

"Number?" she slurred, straightening the paper the best she could out on the bathroom floor, with a shaky grip on the pen.

"What?" I asked confused, trying to rub some of the pain from my head.

"Your brothers number?"

Oh, at least that's one thing I didn't have to think about, I knew that number as well as I could recite my ABC's - although I don't think that was a very good comparison, cause in the state I was in I don't think I'll be reciting my alphabet anytime soon, let alone getting through the whole 26 letters. I mumbled off our house phone as she scribbled the number on the back of the docket, then left the bathroom.

The guy that had been in here earlier returned with - as I thought, a can of Coca-Cola in his hand, he knelt down beside me, offering the can. "Here, dude." He helped me sit up a little straighter, now that my nausea had passed for the moment, and shoved the can in my hand with the tab already pulled. I took a long gulp, letting it take the awful taste away and cool the back of my throat. Big mistake, I was back over the toilet bowl before I could tell which way was up or down, hurling my guts out again. The tears leaked from my eyes again, as I hung onto the rim for the second time.

After another good ten minutes of hanging my head in the toilet bowl, I slowly made out Sodapop's voice coming through into the bathroom. "Ponyboy... geez kiddo." I felt a strong arm wrap under my mid-section, as the other hand pressed against my forehead holding my head back.

"Soda..." I half sobbed.

"It's alright kiddo, I've gotcha." His voice sounding good to my ears. My head was spinning and I felt so awful I didn't care about anything else now that Soda was here. I felt like I could suddenly just relax and let him take control, he'd know what to do... Soda always knew what to do.

"I'm sorry, Soda. I'm so sorry." I slurred, and groaned as another wave hit. I sure hoped they were ready to have guests for the night; I didn't think I'd be leaving this bathroom anywhere in the near future.

"Shit, kid." Soda said, holding me up so I didn't fall in the bowl. "What did he have?" I heard him ask someone in the room.

"Umm... he had loooots." Annette's voice slurred from somewhere in the room.

"Great, could you be a little more specific?"

"Ahh... yeah... lotsa beer..."

"K, anything else?" Soda asked from above me, as he kept his hold around me.

"Yeah... a couple shots a Whiskey, and a little coke." Annette answered, trying to recall whatever we had drank throughout the night.

I felt Soda's movements stiffen around me as he asked the next question. "Coke as in the drink, or cocaine?" his tone one not to mess with. He held it firm as he spoke, but I could hear him forcing back the anger that was slowly boiling in the pit of his stomach. It reminded me of the calm before the storm.

"Ahh... both, and he had some of the punch." Annette answered, not catching the tone in Soda's voice.

"He had cocaine?" he asked again through gritted teeth, letting some of that boiling anger through with his words. I could hear the clear cut warning in his tone, even through my drunken state. But I guess unlike Annette, I knew Soda and his different expressions on tone - but it didn't always just stop at his tone; he was also good at giving you that warning look with just his eyes. But when his eyes narrowed with that hard look he gives, you've pushed him too far and your chances are you'd better run. I knew it took a lot to get Soda mad, he just wasn't the angry type. But when he was your chances didn't fair well.

"Yeah..." she answered hesitantly, probably catching onto his tone.

"Shit..." he growled, "who in their right mind would give him that... who gave my little brother drugs?" I could hear his breathing quicken as he growled to however was brave enough to stay in the room, Soda hardly ever swore and when he did I knew he was furious. Annette stayed quiet, which was probably for the best. No matter how easy going or happy-go-lucky Soda could be, you didn't wanna mess with him when he was mad. And someone giving his younger brother drugs - whether it was my choice to take them or not - was gonna get him mad... no he was beyond that, he was ready to start pounding someone.

I knew I'd better step in and take the blame, I couldn't stand to see anyone else getting hurt... especially Annette.

"I'm sorry, Soda," I whimpered, through my burning throat. "It was my fault, I'm so sorry."

He was silent for a moment, probably pondering what I'd just admitted. I felt his grip around me tighten, "Who gave it to you, Ponyboy?"

"I don't know, Soda. I swear I don't know... I'd been drinkin' an' I don't know who it was. Please, Soda." I practically begged my brother to believe me, as a few tears slid past my glassy eyes and down my cheeks.

I heard a sharp intake of breath from above me, as Soda crouched down behind me and pulled me back against him, leaning the back my head against his collarbone as he ran his fingers through my sweaty greased back hair. "Alright, do you think you'll be right till we get home?" he asked. I knew the concerned question was regarding whether I was going to be sick again or not, but with how I'd been so far, I couldn't be certain.

I nodded, hoping I could hold off until we at least reached home, not being too fond of the idea of puking my guts up in the car. But my brief moment of thought crumbled as an uneasy roll gave way to my stomach again, I moaned grabbing hold of my unsettled stomach.

"Easy, kiddo, easy." Soda murmured from behind me.

I sat silently still for a moment hoping the oncoming nauseous feeling would subside, as Soda lightly traced my forearm with his fingers, producing a soothing tingling feeling on my bare skin.

"Alright, now?"

I nodded again, feeling my stomach settle for the moment.

"Good, let's get outta here, kiddo." I felt him move carefully from behind me, with him keeping a grip on my upper arm as he stood up, then gently helped me up. We'd only taken a step from the toilet when the guy that had been in here earlier, walked in through the open bathroom door.

"Jay, can you grab 'im a bucket or somethin'?" Annette asked.

"What for? His got the can right in front of him."

"Well his not taking that in the car with him now, is he?" she tried to shoot back, but her speech was still somewhat slurred.

"Might as well, dudes been hogging it long enough!"

"Jay, just shut up. Get a bucket."

"Whatever!" he shot back annoyed, walking back out the door.

"Sorry, he can be a real douche sometimes." Annette apologised, trailing behind us as Soda practically steered me out through the house. As we neared the front door, someone called for us to hold up. Jay rushed towards where we had stopped, holding out a overly used and stained - with possibly pasta sauce - large plastic container.

I felt someone sidle up beside me, and glanced to my left. Annette took my hand in hers and lightly brushed the back of my hand with her fingers, as she leaned in close to my ear. "I'm sorry 'bout the mess, Ponyboy. But it was fun, wasn't it?" she whispered, her warm breath tickling my ear as I could smell that sweet cherry and alcohol aroma coming from her as she breathed close to me.

I nodded, with a smirk. It was fun, hell it was more than fun...

She gave me a small peck on the cheek as Soda took the emergency spew catcher from Jay with a small thanks, before leading me out the door and down to the car - Steve's car I noticed - that he had parked by the edge of the nature strip in a not to neat fashion, with the front tyre edged almost up on the lawn. He took hold of the polished stainless handle on the passenger side, opening the door for me. I climbed into the car seat settling back against the headrest as Soda placed the bucket in my lap, then gently closed the door beside me. Not even a second after his front drivers door opened, with him settling behind the wheel. With a turn of the key he put the car into drive and made a start for the short, but silent journey home.

We pulled up front our house with Soda shooting the car up onto our front nature strip in a semi-fashioned diagonal park. Neither of us uttered a word on the way home. Soda looked as though he had something to say a number of times, I was almost certain it would have been a lecture of some type, but he never got past the point of opening his mouth then shutting it again, in the same fashion as a goldfish. I was somewhat relieved he didn't start in on me in the car, with my dizziness from the beer, and nausea, I didn't feel much like talking, or trying to explain myself - which I knew was coming sooner rather later, though in my condition I'd much prefer the latter, and I certainly wasn't feeling up to being yelled at.

He came round my side, opening the car door like earlier and helped me out. I literally fell against him as I tried to get my drunken legs to walk in a straight line, which didn't look like it was gonna happen anytime soon. I don't know how I managed getting from the bathroom out to the car before, but my legs didn't seem to be cooperating with me this time. Soda gave up trying to hull me up the old pathway, and tucked one hand under my knees with his other behind my back, lifting me cradle like in his arms.

"Soda," I whined, with my lower lip protruding in a pout.

"Don't you Soda me, kiddo," he scolded. He carried me in through the front door, across the lounge into the bathroom. He flicked the switch on, illuminating the small room in the bright fluorescent light and set my feet down on the cold tiles.

"Strip," he said, as he reached over pulling the shower curtain across, and twisted the tap heads on.

"Huh?"

"Undress, Ponyboy."

"Why?" I asked, as I struggled to get my arm free from the shirt sleeve.

"Because you my little brother need to sober up." He said, coming to help me. He pulled my t-shirt up over my head, then helped me with my shoes and socks, then unbuttoned my jeans shrugging them down. He helped me step out of my jeans with me almost loosing my balance, he caught my arm, then pushed me into the shower still clad in my boxers.

"It's cold." I screamed, trying to scramble out from the ice cold water. But he kept his palm firmly pressed to my chest holding me under.

"Like I said, you need to sober up."

"But it's cold, Soda." I said, as my teeth started to chatter.

"Yeah, I know."

"But I'm gonna catch pneumonia." I whined.

He chuckled at that, "Your not gonna get pneumonia, kiddo."

"But I might." I tried to reason with him.

"Well now seeing your in a talking mood, you wanna tell me what happened today?" he asked, moving his eyes to mine as he continued to hold me under the cold spray.

"I don't know, Soda. I'm sorry." I gave him a pleading look complete with my puppy dog face, as my teeth continued to chatter.

He sighed, "Alright, I think you've been in there long enough." He turned off the tap heads, draining the ice coldness that had been showering down on my now shivering form. He turned to his right grabbing the navy towel from the towel rack, and draped it over my shoulders, helping me step out of the shower.

"You wanna tell me why you took off this afternoon?" he asked as he rubbed the - washed too many times - crisp material, over my back and chest.

"Can you leave the interrogation for when I'm at least sober?" I mumbled, as my older brother stopped drying mid-rub.

"No, because your not suppose to be drunk in the first place. How many times in the past couple of weeks have we been over this, huh? How many times have Darry and I told you not to drink, you wanna answer me that one?"

"I know... I'm sorry, Soda." I pulled my puppy face into play again.

"Yeah, you will be, kiddo." He said, as removed the semi-wet towel from my shoulders, and held a firm grasp to my upper arm, before I could register what was happening a stinging smack landed to my wet boxer covered backside.

"Oww," I yelled, covering my behind with my free hand. He let his grip go on my upper arm and grabbed my hand instead holding it to the small of my back, then pinned me against his chest to stop my escape before landing another smack on the same cheek.

"Ahh, Soda..." I screamed, gosh it hurt - something about the wetness and making it sting more. He moved onto my other cheek landing another two well placed swats, before placing one on each sit spot.

"That was for taking off this afternoon, we'll finish the rest tomorrow."

If I hadn't sobered up before, I sure was now. My backside was stinging something awful, and to know I was getting more tomorrow... I wiped the tears from my eyes, as more replaced them, and glanced up at Soda.

"Well, you've gotta learn kiddo. You can't be running off an' doin' stuff like this, when Darry and I say no, it means no, and if I recall right I remember someone promising me they'd never touch alcohol again," he raised an eyebrow as he looked at me, "and drugs... you and I are gonna have a good long 'talk' about that one tomorrow," he gave me a firm look, then said, "C'mon lets get you dressed and into bed." I let him lead me to our room, as I kept one hand on my wet behind trying to rub the sting out. It had really hurt - but I knew as much as one thing, it's not as sore as it will be tomorrow. Maybe I can sneak out when Soda's asleep, but I knew he'd only find me or wait till I came back home, and it'd be just that much worse.

"Here put these on, I'm gonna get you some water." He said, handing over my sleepwear, then exited the room. I made sure he was gone before stripping my wet underwear and replacing them with some fresh ones; it's not that Soda's never seen me naked before, hell we're brothers and share the same room for goodness sake - sure it can still be somewhat embarrassing - but in that moment it was more to protect my bare flesh from anymore assault from Soda's hard hand. I threw the rest of my sleepwear on before wiggling under the quilt covers in bed just as Soda walked back in, holding a glass of water.

"Sit up, honey," he said as he settled himself on the edge of the bed. I complied, with him handing me the glass, after downing the refreshing liquid I handed back the glass, and watched as he placed it on the bedside table as I lay my head back on the pillow.

"Alright, close your eyes," he said gently, as he stayed beside me.

"I can't. I'm not tired, Soda." I whined, as I looked up at him feeling wide awake. I couldn't understand why as it was nighttime, and glancing to the clock behind Soda I could see it was getting onto be eleven-thirty.

He sighed, "The drugs are probably messin' with you and keepin' you awake, just shut 'em anyway."

"I can't," I said more stubbornly, looking up at him again; he was watching me rather intently, with his eyes reading my anti-tired features. He carefully reached his left hand out, and lay his hand palm side down across my eyes covering them, forcing me to close them.

"Soda..."

"Shh, go to sleep," he soothed, as he carefully caressed his other hand through my damp hair. "Just relax, and go to sleep."

I couldn't say how long after that it took me to fall asleep, but Soda's hushed whispers and caressing finally put me to sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

...

Bella Lilac

A/N - Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, and also to those who favoured/followed this story. Your support is much appreciated. Bella.