(A/N: The best part of having the day off is it has given me time to finish this part. Thank you SimonaK1 and Lovetoread75 for your kind words. It really gave me confidence. I hope you guys like the next part. Personally, it's my favorite so far. Please review and let me know what you think. Love, Ellivia22)

Disclaimer: Sadly, The Outsiders is not mine :(

Broken Bond

Part III

Sodapop

When I wake up the next morning, my eyes are crusty and stinging. It was a rough night. All I did was toss and turn, my dreams full of nightmares of Ponyboy and Sandy.

Yesterday's events come rushing at me fast, jarring my emotions all over again. Ponyboy's still gone. Sandy's gone too and I'm still not talking to Darry. How am I possibly going to work today? How am I going to survive the rest of my life without two of the three people I love the most?

The house is quiet, which is very unusual. Most mornings half the gang is here, wrestling, or the TV is blaring. I roll over and glance at the clock by Ponyboy's side of the bed. 7:30 AM. I'm surprised Darry hasn't come in to wake me up like he does every morning. I must've really hurt him with my words last night. Even though I feel like he deserved all the words I threw at him yesterday, I know I went too far. I have to apologize to him.

It takes me fifteen minutes to get the energy to leave my bedroom. I have to compose myself before work starts. I have to appear normal, even if I'm falling apart on the inside.

I stop suddenly when I enter the living room. Darry is sitting in Dad's old recliner-just where I left him last night. Actually, sitting might not be the best word. More like…hunched over. His head is buried in his hands. At first, I think he fell asleep like this, but as I get closer, I can hear very quiet sobs. He's still wearing the same white men's tank top and opened grey collared shirt from the night before. Did he get any sleep at all? The anger I felt for him yesterday is dissolving quickly.

Gently I shake his shoulder. "Hey Darry."

Very slowly he drops his hands from his face. At first, his expression is hopeful, but once he sees it's me it falls again. He must've been hoping it was Ponyboy. He wipes his face. "Hey kid. Did you sleep okay? Are you ready for breakfast?"

I can't stop staring at him. I've never seen my older brother this distraught before-not even when Mom and Dad died. I didn't realize until just now how much the events from two nights ago are tormenting him. His face is extremely pale, yet blotchy from tears. Heavy bags are under his eyes as if he's been up all night. His dark hair, still full of grease, is not slicked back but fallen on his forehead. His tone is weary and uneven. The guilt I'm feeling is stronger than ever. I definitely have been making things worse by being so hard on him.

If I'm honest with myself, what happened that night wasn't all Darry's fault. It was Pony's too for staying out so late. "Are you okay?" I ask worriedly. "Did you get any sleep?"

Darry forces a smile on his face. Even that looks like it took a lot of effort. He stands up unsteadily, ruffling my hair. I notice his hands are shaking. "I'm fine, Soda. You don't need to worry about me."

Numbly I follow him into the kitchen. He pulls out a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. "How would you like your eggs?"

My worry for him is growing with every passing second. I have to fix this. I have to apologize. I swallow hard. "I'm sorry for being so angry with you yesterday. I said things I shouldn't of. I'm just worried about Pony." I decide not to bring up what happened with Sandy. I don't want to think about it right now.

Darry keeps his back to me as he gets ready to make breakfast. "You don't need to apologize." My insides twist hearing the shame in his voice. "I deserve it for what I did to him."

SLAM!

It's Pony I can't help but think as I hear the front door slam shut. I'm sorely disappointed when Two-Bit comes into the kitchen, followed by Steve. Two-Bit is wearing a red sleeveless Mickey Mouse T-shirt this time, while Steve is dressed in his usual DX uniform, ready for work. I give my best friend an apologetic smile when I see him, which he returns. The great thing about Steve being my best friend is he understands me without me saying a word. I'll have to give him a real apology later and tell him he was right about Sandy all along.

"How are y'all doin'?" Two-Bit asks carefully. He looks at both of us worriedly. "Still no word about Pony or Johnny?"

I shake my head. I turn my attention back on Darry as he makes breakfast-or is trying to. His hands are shaking so much that he's dropped at least three eggs on the floor, the yellow yolk seeping everywhere.

I approach my brother. "Hey, Darry, why don't I make breakfast? Just sit down and take it easy, okay?"

"I'm fine," he quivers, telling me that he's anything but.

Another egg hits the floor.

"Darry…"

"No! I can do this," he protests. He doesn't sound like my strong twenty-year-old brother. Instead, he sounds like he's about to break down any second. "I-I'm a good provider! I can take care of my family!"

"I know you can," I tell him gently. I grab his shoulder and turn him so that he's looking at me. Absolute anguish is on his face, clenching my stomach. "But you've gotta take care of yourself too."

I pull him away from the stove. Steve resumes cooking, but neither of us notice.

"I-I didn't mean to," Darry stammers. A tear falls down his cheek, followed by another. "It was an accident."

"I know," I repeat.

"It was s-so late. I thought s-something bad had happened and Pony was hurt. I-I was so scared. I didn't mean to yell at him. I d-didn't mean to hurt him. B-because of me he was almost killed, and I-I wasn't there to protect him. This is my fault. A-all my fault!"

I do the only thing I can think of to calm him. I wrap my arms around him in a big hug. He responds by gripping me tightly and breaking down completely. "I-I'm sorry..." he repeats over and over again.

"Shhh," I attempt soothingly, rubbing his back. Seeing my older brother in this state makes tears of my own fall. "I'm sorry too."

Eventually, Darry calms down enough that his grip isn't as tight. I pull away slightly, keeping an arm around his shoulders. "Come on. You need some sleep. I'll call your boss and tell him you need the day off."

"I'm fine," he attempts to reassure me, wiping his face again. He's not fooling me one bit. "I'm fine now."

I ignore his protests. "I'll be right back," I tell Steve and Two-Bit. Then I steer my brother out of the kitchen.

After almost ten minutes of arguing, I finally convince Darry to get some sleep as long as it was on the couch. I suspect he wants to be close to the door, just in case Ponyboy comes home. Once I'm sure he's asleep I make a quick phone call to his boss from his second job, Mr. Alden, and explain the situation. Thankfully Mr. Alden was understanding and told me to tell Darry not to worry about his shift.

I return to the kitchen. Two-Bit and Steve are sitting at the table eating the eggs Steve made with a slice of chocolate cake from the fridge. I see an extra plate waiting for me.

"He's finally asleep," I say to no one in particular, collapsing into the only unoccupied chair beside Steve. I stare at my own plate of eggs. As hungry as I am, I'm not sure if I can stomach food at the moment.

"I've never seen him like this before," Steve says with a mouthful of egg. "Not even when your parents died."

"He thinks this whole mess is his fault," I say sadly. "I mean it is, which is why I had been so hard on him the past couple of days. But I have come to realize that not all the blame should fall on him. Ponyboy was bein' reckless by stayin' out so late. I'm afraid that if Pony and Johnny never come back, I'm gonna lose another brother."

"Ponyboy doesn't realize how much Darry loves him," Two-Bit remarks. "The night of the movie, Ponyboy was complainin' to those two cute Soc chicks we picked up. He was sayin' how Darry was cold and mean and didn't care about him. Shoot, it was really unsettlin' the way the kid feels about Darry. He doesn't realize all that Darry has given up for him."

I get up from the table after only a couple of bites of eggs. I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's just making me even more upset. "Thank you for breakfast. I'm gonna get ready for work. Be right back."

As I cross the living room to reach the bathroom, I'm comforted to see Darry still lying on the couch, his back to me. He's still asleep. Finally, he's getting the rest he desperately needs.

During my short, but steamy shower, I try to decide what I should do. Should I go to work like I'm supposed to? Or should I take the day off just to make sure that Darry is all right? On any normal day, I know that my big brother can take care of himself. Right now, though, I'm not so sure.

I am just emerging out of the shower ten minutes later, wrapping a towel around my waist when the bathroom door opens. Steve sticks his head in, his brown eyes wide. "Uh, Soda, we've got a problem. Darry's gone."

I stare at him, not caring if he's seeing me half-naked. It wouldn't be the first time. "What do you mean he's gone?"

"Two-Bit and I were just finishin' up with the dishes when Two-Bit went to check on him. He must've snuck out."

I push past Steve and re-enter the living room. Two-Bit is standing by Dad's old recliner in shock. I see blankets on the floor and the couch is empty. Not only that but the truck keys are on the table and the front door is open. Uh oh.

"Are you sure he's just not in the bedroom or somethin'?" I ask, trying with all my might not to freak out.

"We looked. He ain't here." Two-Bit says worriedly.

Great. Now I have two missing brothers on my hands. One is hiding from the fuzz and the other is sleep deprived and on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I gotta find Darry before something happens to him. I just hope he hasn't gone too far.

"This is all my fault," I say to Steve fifteen minutes later as I speed as fast as I can in our beat-up pickup truck through the various neighborhoods. Any chance I have to take my eyes off the road I look for my older brother. I figure since he left on foot that Darry couldn't have gone too far. So far, no sign of him. Maybe Two-Bit will have better luck going by foot. I don't care if I'm missing my shift. All that matters is that I find my brother. My chest constricts painfully in guilt. It takes a lot to hold back the tears. "I shouldn't of been so hard on him."

"Soda."

"I know that Darry didn't mean to hit Ponyboy. I-I always knew. It's just that when Ponyboy didn't come home, I was so angry and scared. I n-needed to blame someone."

"Soda."

What are you gonna do? Are you gonna hit me too?!

"I-I pushed him away. I said things, horrible things. I-I hurt him. Not only that, I pushed you away when you were trying to be a friend." I glance at my best friend apologetically. "I'm sorry, buddy."

"It's all right," Steve says gently. "I know you were hurtin'. It's true, I'm not a big fan of your little brother, but it doesn't mean I want anything bad to happen to him. How were things with Sandy by the way?"

I keep my eyes focused on the road. I swallow the large lump in my throat and force the pain down at the mention of my now ex-girlfriend. "We're over. You were right about her."

Steve claps my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. "I'm sorry, man."

"Me too."

An overwhelming feeling hits me when I spot one of the popular hangouts amongst the greasers: Buck Merril's house. Buck Merril's a good friend of Dally's and known to throw lots of parties. I know there's no way that Darry would be here, but something tells me I need to stop. With a screech, I pull into his driveway.

I don't wait for Steve to get out of the truck. I hurry up to the porch and bang on the front door.

BANG! BANG!

Buck opens the door. He looks sluggish as if he's recovering from a massive hangover. His cowboy hat is crookedly over his blonde head and his plaid shirt is open. It looks like I just woke him up from a deep sleep. "Whatta ya want? The party's over."

I push past him, making him almost topple over. "Pony? Darry? Are you here?"

"Soda? Steve? What are you guys doin' here?" Dally is at the top of the stairs. Judging by his disheveled appearance I must've woken him up too. "Is everything ok?"

"I…I'm looking for Darry. He's-." I stop in mid-sentence. My eyes widen. At the bottom of the stairs is a folded dark blue sleeveless sweatshirt. Not just any sweatshirt. "What in the hell are you doing with Ponyboy's sweatshirt?!"

"I found it," Dally says without batting an eye. "After he and Johnny went missin'. They must've tossed out their clothes before goin' into hidin'. I was holdin' onto it for safe keepin'." I stare at him, not believing a word. I knew it. I knew he had something to do with Ponyboy and Johnny going into hiding. I open my mouth, but Dally speaks first. "Did you say that Darry's now missin'?"

"He walked out this mornin' after breakfast," Steve says, his hand firmly on my arm as if to keep me from running up the stairs to throw a punch at Dally. "He's not handlin' this well at all. We're really worried about him."

Dally grabs his jacket that's dangling over the railing. Then he joins us at the bottom of the stairs. "Let's go."

I follow Dally and Steve out the door, temporarily pushing my anger toward Dally out of my mind. If Dally is involved with what happened to Ponyboy and Johnny, he must have a good reason why he's keeping it from me. The more important thing right now is to find Darry and make sure that he's okay.

Darry

One year ago

It was the fourth quarter, second down. The opposing team, which consisted of Sodapop, Steve, and Two-Bit was ahead by two points. Luckily my team with Ponyboy and Johnny had control of the ball and a clear advantage. All we had to do was score a touchdown at the white line a few feet away from the chain gate of the front yard. We were going to win this thing.

Sweat poured down my face and my heart pounded hard against my chest in exhilaration. I could feel the adrenaline flowing through my veins like a fast river. I always got that feeling while playing football. It was the best feeling in the world.

"All right guys," I said in a low voice, my arms around thirteen-year-old Ponyboy and fifteen-year-old Johnny. "We've got this. All we gotta do is make it to the goal. Johnny, you block. Pony, I want you to use your speed and avoid getting tackled. Make it to the line and I'll throw. Got it?"

Ponyboy nodded eagerly, excitement in his brown eyes. "I won't let you down!

We got into position. Ponyboy and Johnny stood in front of me, facing Sodapop and Steve respectively. Two-Bit stared at me with bared teeth like a lion ready to pounce. I bent my knees.

"Hutt…hutt…HIKE!"

As soon as I got the ball I stepped back, getting ready to throw. Johnny collided hard with Steve but held on to keep him from advancing on me. Ponyboy immediately took off running, narrowly missing Sodapop's attack. Two-Bit was advancing on me fast. I knew that I only had seconds.

"Darry, NOW!" Ponyboy yelled.

I threw the football as hard as I could seconds before Two-Bit collided hard into me. I watched the brown ball sail in the air, getting closer and closer to the end of the "field".

I watched in exhilaration as Ponyboy caught the ball just as he reached the chalked line. TOUCHDOWN! We won!

I cheered loudly, scooping a sweaty Ponyboy in my arms for a huge hug. I could barely contain my excitement. It may have been a simple game between friends, but we had won, all thanks to Ponyboy.

"You did great, kid," I said, setting Ponyboy down. I had a huge grin on my face. I ruffled his dark hair. "Keep it up and you'll be just as good as your big bro."

Ponyboy's sweaty face beamed happily. "I hope to be just like you someday." He jumped on my back. "Can we play another game? Please."

"Maybe later," I told him, my arms hooking under his legs and supporting his weight. I began walking toward the house, where Soda was sitting alone on the front steps. Looked like Johnny, Two-Bit, and Steve had left for the day. I wondered why they didn't say goodbye. "First we gotta have some lunch before Mom and Dad come home."

I froze suddenly. A police car slowed, stopping in front of our house. Two officers in full uniform approached the gate. I suddenly felt very apprehensive. That explained why Two-Bit, Johnny, and Steve bolted so suddenly. I hoped that none of my brothers were in trouble. Mom and Dad would never let me hear the end of it if Soda or Pony got arrested.

"Can I help you?" I asked as I approached the gate, Ponyboy still on my back.

"We're here to speak to Darrel Curtis Jr.," a young officer said. He looked to be in his late twenties with short reddish-brown hair like Ponyboy's. "Would that be you?"

I didn't like the look on the officers' faces. They were both very solemn as if someone had just died or something. "Yes."

The other officer, who looks to be almost my age with blonde hair noticed Ponyboy hanging on my back. "Do you think we could speak privately for a moment?"

I put Ponyboy gently on the ground. "Why don't you and Soda go wash up? I'll be in shortly to make lunch."

Once Ponyboy was out of sight, I turned my full attention to the officers in front of me. Their expression was graver than ever. I crossed my arms. "What is this about?"

"We're very sorry to have to tell you this, but your parents were in a very serious car accident," the first officer said, removing his police helmet. "They didn't make it."

My world suddenly came to a screeching halt. I had almost forgotten how to breathe. No. It couldn't be true. My parents weren't dead. The longer I stared at the serious expression on the officers' faces, the faster the truth sunk in. "H-how," I choked out.

"Their car stalled on the train tracks. They weren't able to get out in time."

Silent tears fell down my face. I couldn't believe it. My parents were gone. I had just seen them two days ago. Now I was never going to see them again. The pain and loss in my heart were so strong, my chest stung and felt heavy. I felt as though a part of me was being ripped from my soul.

I immediately thought of my younger brothers. Sodapop and Ponyboy were so young, so happy. How was I going to tell them that Mom and Dad weren't coming back? An even better question: What was going to happen to them now that Mom and Dad were gone?

I thanked the officers quietly, wiping the tears off my face. I headed back to the house, forcing my grief down. I had to be strong for the family I had left.

"What do you want on your baloney sandwich, Darry," Sodapop called as soon as I entered the house.

I swallowed hard several times to keep my emotions at bay. I looked at Ponyboy and Sodapop as they worked together to make three baloney sandwiches. This was going to be the hardest thing I ever had to do. Instead of joining them in the kitchen, I sat down on the couch. I patted the two empty spots beside me. "Sit down guys," I said gently, trying with all my might to keep the sorrow out of my voice. It was difficult to do. "T-there's something I need to tell you."

Sodapop and Ponyboy looked at each other in confusion and concern. Reluctantly they join me on the couch, Soda on one side of me, Pony on the other. I put my arms around their shoulders, then took a deep breath. "There was an accident."

"What kind of accident?" Sodapop asked me cautiously.

"Mom and Dad were on their way home from their trip. The car stalled on some train tracks." My eyes were burning, and I could feel the tears forming again. I swallowed the large lump in my throat and hoarsely choked out the next sentence. "T-they couldn't get out in time."

"T-they're dead?" Ponyboy whimpered. Tears were already starting to fall down his face.

I nodded sadly, not trusting my voice to speak. I hugged both of my brothers close to me as they both began to sob. My throat tightened even more-if that was possible. Ponyboy and Sodapop clutched onto me tightly. I did my best to soothe them, even though I was on the verge of breaking down myself.

"W-what's gonna happen to us," Sodapop asked timidly after several minutes. "A-are we gonna be separated?"

I stayed silent for a few minutes. I didn't know much about the law, but I did know that even though I was over eighteen I didn't have legal guardianship over my brothers. Sodapop and Ponyboy would be forced to go to a boys' home until they turned eighteen. There was no way I would let that happen. If I lost Sodapop and Ponyboy, I'd have nothing left to live for.

I hugged both my brothers even tighter. "I swear, I won't let that happen."

As I held onto my sobbing brothers, I made a solemn promise to myself. I was going to do everything I possibly could to take care of my brothers. I was going to protect them and love them like Mom and Dad did. I was going to keep our family together no matter what.

In loving memory of Darrel Curtis Sr. and Doris Curtis.

Beloved parents

I stare mournfully at the two graves in front of me. I've been so busy doing everything I can to take care of my brothers that I haven't visited my parents since the funeral. I feel so lost, so alone. I desperately need their guidance. I need their strength and love. But they are both gone.

I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, but tears leak down my cheeks anyway. I'm so exhausted from all the tears I've shed lately. Yet it seems like no matter how hard I try I can't seem to stop.

More tears fall down my face as I think about what Mom and Dad would say if they knew what I had done to Ponyboy. They'd be so ashamed of me-just like I'm ashamed of myself. I deserve it.

"M-mom," I whisper, tracing the name on the headstone. I do the same thing to my father's grave. "D-dad. I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry. I tried so hard to take care of Sodapop and Ponyboy. I tried to provide for them and keep them safe. I failed. B-because of me, our bond is broken. You must be so ashamed of me."

I try wiping my eyes, but it has no effect. I lower my head. "Mom…Dad…I dunno know what to do. Please…tell me what to do. H-how do I get them back? H-how do I make up for my mistake? How do I live with myself after what I've done?"

Shoot, it was really unsettlin' the way the kid feels about Darry.

I choke on a sob. "H-how do I get Pony to love me again?"

I don't know how long I've been at my parents' grave, nor do I care. Nothing matters anymore.

"There you are."

I look up from my tear-soaked hands to see Dally standing beside me. I don't know how long he's been standing there, nor do I care. I stand up unsteadily, wiping my stinging eyes. "What are you doing here?" I ask in a low voice, not really caring about the answer.

"Soda was worried. We've been lookin' all over town for ya." My friend and fellow greaser looks nothing like his usual tough guy self. His blonde hair is disheveled and besides his brown coat, it looks like he just rolled out of bed. His face is paler than normal, and it looks like he hasn't shaved in a couple of days. He looks at me worriedly-an expression I've never seen on him before. "You look like hell, man."

I give half a smile. "That almost sounds like a compliment."

We stand in front of my parents' graves for several minutes in silence. Then I ask the one question that has been plaguing me for days. "Is he alive?" I ask hoarsely, looking at my friend desperately. "Is Ponyboy alive?"

"I know your kid brother doesn't always use his head, but I believe he is doin' okay. Once this mess blows over, I'm sure he'll be back home."

I wipe my stinging eyes again. "I hope so."

Dally puts an arm around my shoulders. "Come on. Let's get you home. I don't need ya collapsin' on me. Sodapop will try to beat me up again."

I allow Dally to lead me out of the cemetery. Now that I've let out all the emotions that I had been holding back for so long I'm physically and mentally exhausted. Sleep sounds like a great idea this time.

Dally and I don't say much to each other as we make our way out of the cemetery. I feel lethargic and my eyes feel heavy. In fact, it's a difficult task to not only see where I'm going but to walk straight. It's like I was drunk. It would seem that the lack of sleep is starting to catch up with me.

Sounds of loud commotion snap me out of my dazed state. Dally and I stop in our tracks. Multiple expensive-looking Mustangs are parked in the vacant lot. I see at least five Socs surrounding a greaser with a heavy black eye, busted lip, and blood running down his face from a cut on his cheek. The greaser is holding a switchblade. He has rusty-colored sideburns and wearing a red Mickey Mouse T-shirt. My stomach lurched.

Two-Bit.

To be continued...