The sickening whiteness and strange smell of the hospital bothered Steve. It wasn't too often that he found himself here. The waiting room wasn't too inviting, either. There were a few people sitting there nervously, but it wasn't too late yet. Steve had the notion that everyone who came into the emergency room usually came in after midnight.

Him and Two-Bit went up to the desk. Since it was a real high-class place, the woman behind it gave them a suspicious look. She sat up a little and gave them a once over, possibly looking for a severed limb or something.

Two-Bit shook his head and let out a laugh. "We're not here to check in. We're here to see our buddy." But she still wasn't having it. Two-Bit sighed and lifted his eyebrow towards Steve. Steve was surprised that he had the knowledge to stop himself from saying something witty (and most likely foolish) to the woman that seemed to determine whether or not they'd see their friend.

"You can't visit without permission," she said, sticking her nose up in the air. Steve sighed. He may not be too experienced in going to visit people in the hospital, but he knew that that wasn't protocol. He'd seen a man walk up and ask the woman the same thing without any problem a few minutes ago. He was wearing a madras shirt, though, and Steve was wearing a grease-stained DX shirt. The difference was clear.

Steve rolled his eyes and looked down the hallway. Darry was probably wondering where they were. He probably assumed that they weren't coming. After all, it had taken almost an hour to get someone to bring them to the hospital. It wasn't too fun, either. They ended up getting a ride from some kid that hung out at Buck's almost every night. He had been shocked that he wasn't belligerent. He asked them dumb questions the whole way that they didn't even bother to entertain. Steve just kept snapping at him, telling him to hurry up.

He leaned into the woman, who backed up to keep the same amount of space as before. "Call into one of those rooms, lady. I swear that there's someone here that we need to see."

Exasperated, she looked behind her to see if there was anyone to back her up. She didn't even bother to call. She just wanted to get rid of them.

"You have ten minutes," she snapped. Two-Bit smiled.

"That's all we need."

"What's the name of the patient?" she asked, annoyed.

"Ponyboy Michael Curtis."

She raised her eyebrow and pulled out a clipboard of patient names. She ran her finger down the list and stopped at one.

"Room 105. Right down there." Steve could sense the hostility in her voice that she didn't try to hide.

"Thanks," he said sarcastically, and made his way with Two-Bit down the narrow hallway.

When he stopped at the door, he didn't bother to knock. It was a small room with a screen to divide one hospital bed from another. The other one wasn't occupied, so the sheet wasn't pulled. Darry sat on the free hospital bed and turned quickly when the door opened. Sodapop sat in a plastic chair right next to the bed that Pony was in. His elbows were on his knees and he was sleeping lightly, his forehead leaning on the bed. He was startled by the abrupt noise, and his elbows slipped from under him. He rubbed his eyes.

The sight that greeted him made Steve's stomach lurch. Two-Bit turned away, not feeling too confident in his balance. Ponyboy was sleeping and his body was covered up mostly, but his face looked rough. His neck was gashed open and there were bandages around it that were stained red. His cheeks were bruised here and there and his nose was a little swollen, but the only real damage he could see was his split eyebrow and busted lip. He wondered why there had been so much blood on the ground. Surely his neck couldn't have bled that much.

He turned to Darry, who hopped off of the bed and made his way over to them. Sodapop looked at them, but didn't get up. He didn't look like he had been crying recently, but his face was stormy and disturbed and it was clear that he was upset and had cried earlier.

"How's the kid?" Two-Bit asked.

Darry shook his head and looked at his feet. He was still in his work boots and his face had dirt on it, but his appearance was the least of his worries. "Kids pulled a blade on him. Stabbed him. They broke four or five ribs, too, and sliced up his neck pretty bad. Bruised some bones in his arm and legs, too, but that should heal. There's still a lot of tests that haven't come back yet, and it doesn't look too good. He has a concussion, so he keeps fainting. He was awake for a while, but..." he trailed off.

"But what?" Two-Bit asked.

"But he won't talk. To anyone. Not the doctor, not me, not Soda. They said it's shock. He won't even look at us," Darry said hopelessly. He rubbed his forehead.

Sodapop stared at Ponyboy diligently.

"He knows that it isn't his fault, right?" Two-Bit asked.

"I tried to tell him that. There's no convincin' him."

"But he's okay. It'll take him a few days to come back to his senses, but he's gonna be fine," Steve explained. It sounded more like a question. He was trying to convince himself more than anyone. He was starting to feel guilty, too, and needed some reassurance.

"Soda doesn't think so. He's a wreck. That's why you gotta bring him home. I can't have him here ripping himself apart."

Steve sighed, thinking about the probability of Sodapop actually going home with them. He stepped forward with Two-Bit and put a hand on Sodapop's shoulder. He snapped out of his daze and looked at him. He attempted a smile, but quickly went back to his state of depression.

"Come on, buddy. We're going home. You can come back tomorrow," Two-Bit said. Sodapop scoffed and shook his head.

"Maybe you are, but not me. I'm staying here."

Two-Bit looked at Darry, who put his hands up in the air like he had long given up and sat back on the hospital bed.

Steve tried to convince him. "Pony isn't going to get any better with you sitting here twenty-four seven. You need to go to sleep."

"I can sleep here."

"You have to work tomorrow."

"I'll have you cover my shift."

Steve looked at Darry, as if to say, I've done all I can do. Soda could sure be stubborn when he wanted to be.

Sodapop shook his head, then focused his attention on Ponyboy again. He didn't leave the conversation open to be continued.

Darry tried again. "Soda, the doctor said that only one of us can stay here. Ponyboy will only get upset if he sees you upset."

When Sodapop ignored him again, Darry went over to him. He stood him up and took him by the shoulders. He didn't want to cause a scene and he definitely didn't want to disturb the peace between him and his brother, but he was Sodapop and Ponyboy's guardian before anything and needed to enforce what he thought was right for all three of them.

Sodapop looked him in the eyes. Darry could see a lot of emotions in them: Sadness, anger, tiredness, and hopelessness amongst many others. He opened his mouth to convince Sodapop to go home, but Sodapop talked first.

"Please, Darry. Don't make me go home."

Eight months earlier...

It was cold outside and Darry was trying to clean up the house. He had no motivation to do anything lately. Life hadn't hit him yet. It seemed like an inconceivable dream. The thought of him, Ponyboy, and Sodapop being the only ones left made his stomach tie in knots. Each of them had taken their parents' death in a different way. Sodapop was grieving as expected. He locked himself in his room. He isolated himself from his brothers. Darry could hear him crying no matter where he went in the house and it killed him. He had no idea what to say to him. And he wasn't sure that what he would try to say would be of any comfort. It was hard to try to tell them what to do when he barely knew himself.

Ponyboy refused to talk at all. He refused to do anything. They got along really well, but Darry couldn't find the words to help him, either. Pony wasn't that big of a talker in the first place and he didn't let his emotions on easily. He was just a kid and he didn't deserve to lose both of his parents. None of them did, but Ponyboy was different. But not in a way that Darry understood, so he tried to keep his space. It suddenly went from being three kids to being two kids and an adult and it was hard to adjust to.

Today was the day that the social worker was coming. Ponyboy knew, Sodapop knew, and Darry knew. It sent a jolt through them all. After the funeral, they were greeted with a solemn phone call. They had been told that they had a few days to get their affairs in order, then they would be assigned a social worker to sort out the custody of Sodapop and Ponyboy. Darry would not be concerned as a child, but would be considered a potential guardian of them if he chose to do so. It put his life on hold, that was for sure. He had a girlfriend, he had friends who he hung out with, he had a life. He couldn't necessarily put his life on hold, but he couldn't let his family be separated. He knew that he'd never forgive himself for sending his brothers off to a boys' home. It would be the easy way out, but it wouldn't be the right way out.

The social worker was a middle-aged man. He looked nice enough, but his eyes held hostility within them. Darry could guess how years and years of having to deal with sad stories and making hard decisions could turn a person cold.

Darry had made sure that they were all in their best clothes. It had taken a lot for Ponyboy and Sodapop to force a smile, but they were trying their best. They didn't need to be told that they needed to leave a good impression on the guy. Sodapop's eyes were red-rimmed and his face was swollen with tears and it broke Darry's heart that whatever happened to them wouldn't necessarily guarantee a better life.

The man walked through the house that Darry had spent all day cleaning and asked them all basic questions: How do you feel? What do you want to happen to you all? What do you think is best for you all?

Then, the man had asked Soda and Pony to leave their room, and sat down with Darry in the living room. Darry was numb, beyond feeling anything. He half-expected the man to tell him that he was taking them to the boys' home, but his expression softened.

"Mr. Curtis, you do know what taking custody of your brothers entitles?" he asked.

No.

"Yes, sir."

"You'll be giving up your youth pretty quickly. It's a big responsibility. I've seen many cases where a young family member tries to step in to take care of minors. It's a lot to take on. It almost never ends well."

Darry closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He wondered what made him think that he would be any different from those people. "What do you suggest I do? I can't let my brothers go to a boys' home, sir. I won't." He stood firm with his decision, hoping that it seemed convincing to the social worker.

The man sighed. "Very well then. I will, however, have to assign a social worker who will have to come check on you every now and then."

"I understand."

The man gathered his papers and shook Darry's hand. Darry could feel himself trembling, unsure if it was due to his happiness or fear of what was to come. "I'll see you in a few weeks with the paperwork," he said bleakly.

The man started out the door, then came back inside. "Mr. Curtis," he called to Darry, who was walking into Pony's room to tell him the news.

"Yeah?"

"Please understand that your decision will be the separation of acting like a brother to these boys and a respectful guardian to them. You know, making tough decisions, having to put your foot down."

Darry felt his confusion spread to his face. He could never hide his emotions well. "What's the difference?" Older brothers have to make decisions all the time. He'd always been the natural leader of the three. It couldn't be that much of a shift in his authority.

The man smiled a knowing smile that caught Darry off guard. "You'll find out." And he left.

Darry had mused the words over in his head all night. He feared that their family would never be the same. He hoped that the sadness that plagued Ponyboy and Sodapop would subside in time. He just didn't know if him being in charge of them would do it. He didn't know if him being in charge of them would be good for them at all.

As Darry tried to go to sleep that night amongst all the pressure and sadness that found its way to him, he heard screams from Ponyboy's room. Blood-curling, horrendous screams. Screams that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He opened up his door and ran to his room, but Sodapop was already at the door. Darry asked frantically what happened.

"Nightmares," Sodapop explained. Darry nodded knowingly, even though he didn't know and was terrified. He wondered how Sodapop knew, but then again, Sodapop seemed to know everything. He went to follow Sodapop, but saw that he was already waking Ponyboy up and calming him down. He closed the door and leaned up against the door frame. He hoped desperately that there would always be that understanding amongst the three of them that would stop any further problems like these. But he knew in the back of his mind that there wouldn't be.

Ponyboy's nightmares became a normal occurrence, amongst other things. The sadness that filled their house had slowly disappeared, replacing itself with the happiness and mundaneness of life. The gang became closer, and life didn't seem too bad. Darry felt himself growing up, traveling farther down life's road than someone else his age. He picked up another job and Sodapop dropped out of school. It felt like life was moving too fast and too strong for them at times, but they were happy. Darry could feel himself becoming more protective over Ponyboy and Sodapop. He wondered vaguely if that was what the social worker had meant. He didn't want Ponyboy to be lost or confused with life because of something that Darry didn't teach him right. He was unsure at times of how credible his words and lessons were, but he was trying his best.

As life moved on, the worst seemed to be behind them. Life turned into a routine, and Darry still tossed the words of the social worker around in his head often. He never felt like he was too far from a brother figure to Ponyboy and Sodapop. And he never felt like the decisions he made were tough on any of them. So what exactly did he mean?

He'd usually brush it off with a shrug, figuring that he'd find out in time.

And now as he looked into Sodapop's big brown eyes, he heard the man's words echoing and shattering his thoughts. He had two roads that he could travel down. He could let Sodapop stay here and stay with Ponyboy because that's what Sodapop wanted, or he could make Sodapop go home because that was what he knew was best for his little brother. His brain weighed the thoughts.

Sodapop looked away, then locked eyes again, as if he could read Darry's mind. "If you knew what was best for me, you would let me stay here."

Darry wanted to laugh amongst the grim conditions because, in all actuality, he didn't even know what was best for himself.

Hope you enjoyed :)