Hi all! I can't believe I'm onto my second story. Everyone gave me so much love with my first, Blizzard, that I just hope that I can keep it going with the sequel. Get ready for more hurt/comfort and some surprises as we follow Ponyboy in recovery.
Thank you Ellvia22 and Ohana15 for being my eyes and ears on this first chapter. Enjoy!
A trip to see the snow seemed to be just what the doctor ordered for Ponyboy Curtis, who was still recovering from a serious battle with bacterial meningitis. Yet as the sun rose on the following day, a heavy veil of moodiness, misery, and even a bit of depression descended on the poor kid all over again.
Ironically, a beacon of light emerged later in the day, surprisingly in the form of Steve Randle.
The day before, Two-Bit, Steve, and Soda had received permission from the doctors and nurses, offering Pony a chance to get fresh air for the first time since he had been admitted to the hospital with bacterial meningitis during a bad Tulsa blizzard. Two-Bit had even procured a wheelchair. (Pony never asked exactly how.)
Pony had been nervous, but agreed and they dressed him up nice and warm (including something to cover his head) before wheeling him to an exit on the floor.
Snow was falling lightly and it was freezing – but Ponyboy watched the sky as the golden sun dipped into the west, descending beyond the horizon as the sky transformed into a canvas of vibrant hues. The clouds swirled in shades of orange and red, casting a warm glow in the distance. The world seemed to hold his breath, and Ponyboy did too, wishing he could watch this fleeting moment forever.
And then Two-Bit was promptly hit with a snowball and his middle brother and his two best friends got into an impromptu snowball fight. Darry stayed with Ponyboy as Steve and Soda and Two-Bit ran off pummeling each other with hard lumps of white and he couldn't help but stare at how happy Ponyboy looked when he laughed. The cold was biting at his cheeks, but he looked content for the first time in days, and Darry felt content, too. It had been a hard week – with Pony going through brain surgery, running fevers, and battling sepsis. He still had headaches and backaches and tiredness and nausea – and it was still hard for him to walk. He still had staples in his head and a bruised left eye that was all pink and purple. But it felt like the worst of it was over – Pony's fever had broken and he was on his slow, but steady path to recovery. And for that, Darry was grateful.
Another 15 minutes passed and Darry, ever the watchful old brother, noticed Pony's involuntary shivering. He was about to voice his concerns, when the kid's weary gaze met his own.
"Darry," Pony said, sighing dejectedly, because he wanted to stay. "I'm tired." He was also dizzy and lightheaded but didn't mention that, "Maybe I should head in."
"Yeah, of course," Darry replied, not even thinking twice, "We can't stay here forever."
"Hey guys!" he hollered at the trio frolicking in the snow, "Let's pack it in!"
Soda was the first one to run over and skid to a stop, almost sliding snow into Pony's face. "Hey Pone," he greeted, his flushed cheeks and dancing eyes bore the exhilaration he felt from the snowball fight and the relief of seeing his brother in better spirits, "Did you have fun?"
"Yeah, it was nice," Pony answered softly, but they could hear the exhaustion seeping into his voice.
"Great, we'll do it again," Soda answered, "Next time, YOU'LL be the one to aim for Two-Bit."
"Hey!" Two-Bit replied, pretending he was offended, "I resent that!" he added, "If Pony wants to get into the snowball fight next time, he better watch out for my lightning-quick reflexes!"
"Reflexes, huh?" Steve interjected with a laugh, "Is that what they're calling too much beer these days?"
Pony grinned, but he didn't say much of anything as he felt Darry take the handles of his wheelchair and turn him around and go inside.
Two-Bit quipped, "Yeah, I know it's exhausting watching me beat these guys," and proceeded to tell Pony about the one time he tried to hit Cathy's brother with a snowball at Will Rogers, but accidentally hit Mr. Harris, the health teacher, instead.
The exhaustion was clawing its way through with each passing minute and while nobody could really tell, Pony's eyelids were starting to feel real heavy. The weariness was taking its toll, casting a shadow over his face and a subtle droop in his shoulders.
He hadn't moved much at all, so he couldn't understand why he was so exhausted. It bothered him, but he couldn't do anything about it now, as his brothers helped peel away the layers of clothes and take the hood off his head, before helping him move back to the hospital bed.
Boy did he feel like a sack of potatoes. "I'm awful tired," he said, as Darry lifted him under the armpits and lowered him gently onto the mattress. "Mind if I just – sleep for a while?" It was hard for him to even muster up strength.
"Sure buddy, you don't even have to ask," someone said and Pony thought it sounded like Darry, but his eyelids were already closing. He felt someone drape a blanket over him as he succumbed to fatigue.
The next day, Pony woke up with a painful backache and a pounding headache that made him feel nauseous and miserable. It was as if the excitement of being outside the day before had vanished into thin air. He felt weary and irritable as he struggled to sit up in bed, his body betraying him at every turn. The dizziness came and went.
Naturally, he found himself alone in the room when all of this was happening, as if the universe conspired to keep him secluded in his suffering. Once again, his brothers and friends were nowhere in sight when he needed them, even though he was cranky enough to pretend he didn't want no one fussin'. Truth be told, he understood his brothers' need for space – they deserved it after everything they had done for him – but deep down he felt lost without someone there.
And that's when his stomach started to turn. Startled, he sat up abruptly, which made the head and back pain hit behind his eyes. He panicked, searching for something to puke into before it was too late. There was that water pitcher again and he grabbed it and got sick.
The sound of vomit hitting water permeated the air and made him feel worse. He gagged once, twice, and spit, but luckily nothing else came up. There was water still left in the pitcher. So much for the liquids he so desperately needed in that moment.
His brothers weren't around – but a nurse had heard him and she came over to help. He hated how they all felt sorry for him – but kindness radiated from her as she offered him a cup of water to rinse his mouth and spoke to him reassuringly. He couldn't figure out what had made him puke – maybe it was a combination of physical pain and emotional distress, which was face was a sickly shade of green and that's how Darry and Soda found him, sagging against the bed when they entered the room moments later.
"What happened?" Darry asked as they ran up to him.
"I don't – know. I don't feel right," Pony whimpered, leaning forward and clawing at his forehead with one hand.
"You puked?" Soda asked, noticing the smell.
"He seems to have an upset stomach," the nurse replied as the three of them hovered around him, "What else do you feel, Ponyboy?"
"My head hurts…my back hurts…why does it all hurt again?" he asked in confusion. Soda tried to touch his back softly, to provide some sort of comfort, but Pony flinched.
"Sorry Pone," Soda recoiled, trying not to appear offended.
"He might have a fever. I'll have to check," the nurse says, touching his forehead, "I'll be back with some washcloths that might help and see if Dr. Reed is on the floor. Try to get him to rest," the nurse insisted and blessedly took the pitcher out of the room.
"Pony, come on, let's lay down," Darry suggested once the nurse left the room and he had a good look at Pony's pain-stricken face.
"Huh?" Pony asked, looking up with bleary, confused eyes. "Where were you guys?"
"We went to eat something. You were still sleepin' so we thought you'd be out for a while,''Darry replied, feeling guilty, "Come on, kiddo, lay down," he repeated, a little more forcefully than he meant to and he took Pony's hands and folded them over his stomach trying to get his brother to relax, as he sat sideways on the edge of the hospital bed.
"I puked," Pony stated, his voice resembling a child's. He looked confused and unsure of himself.
"Darry's eyes softened, "It's ok," he replied gently.
"I don't know why," he said, "Why do I feel bad again?" he asked his brothers.
"It'll happen sometimes. Ron said they'll be days like this. You're getting over something serious," Darry said.
Pony finally laid down, calmed by Darry holding his hands, but then the pain in his back got worse. "No, I can't lay like this," he grimaced, trying to flip over onto his right side, and almost kneeing Darry in the hip. "My back hurts."
The nurse came back as Soda and Darry attempted to calm their brother and settle him so he would stop moving, which only aggravated the pain. He ended up on his back again, super irritable and dizzy, even while laying down. The nurse told him he would need to be still so she could read his temperature and Soda smoothed his hair back, careful of the staples on the side.
There was no fever, but Pony laid in the hospital bed, face etched with pain and frustration. The bright lights only added to his misery. Recovering from meningitis has been difficult and today seemed to be one of those bad days, even though it had been worse in the past. His head throbbed relentlessly, a constant ache that causes him to wince and grimace. Eventually the nurse brought him some ibuprofen but it didn't do much.
Soda felt helpless even as he took the cool washcloth and laid it across Pony's forehead. As if the pounding in the head wasn't enough, Pony's back screamed in agony whenever he tried to adjust his position. The stiffness caused sharp jolts of pain with the slightest movement.
At one point Ron came in to check on the patient. He didn't want to give Pony any of the hard stuff this time around, unless the pain became excruciating, "Unfortunately, this is kind of normal," he told the brothers again, "It's supposed to get better, though." He did offer Pony anti-nausea tablets, but Pony's nerves were so on edge at that point, he snapped at the doctor.
"No, I don't want it!" he lashed out, agitated, "I've had enough pills."
His frustration spilled over, and he couldn't help but get angry at Ron even though he was trying to help. "I'm sick of feeling sick," he continued, voice wavering, "Just leave me alone alright? I don't need 'em."
He regretted snapping at Ron – he knew the doctor was just doing his job – but at the moment, he couldn't control it.
Darry was also growing more frustrated and he couldn't imagine how Ponyboy himself was feeling. "Pony, don't go talking like that," he reprimanded, "You're already dealin' with a lot. If Ron suggests the pills might help with the nausea, you oughta give it a shot."
He paused, his voice firm, "No one wants to see you sufferin' more than you have to, kiddo. We're all tryin' to do what's best for you, so don't push away the help."
Ponyboy's eyes flashed with defiance, even though he knew Darry was only looking out for him. "I don't want any more pills," he said more quietly, but still irritated. Darry couldn't argue with that.
Ron quickly intervened, unphased by Pony's emotional state. "It's ok, Darry," he said, then turned to his younger brother, "Pony, it's understandable how you're feeling, given the circumstances. We can hold off on the pills for now."
Pony sighed, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. He knew everyone meant well, but he was just so tired of feeling foggy and sick and relying on pills for relief. "I'm sorry," he muttered, looking down at his hands, "It's just – everything's gettin' to me. I'll keep my trap shut."
He longed for a sense of normalcy, to be outside, running through the streets of Tulsa without a care in the world, grabbing a Coke at the diner, and spitting straws at the cranky waitress. Throwing snowballs at Two-Bit and flipping up his collar. Instead, he's confined to the sterile hospital room, drained and defeated.
He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white, as he tried to control his mounting anger. The neverending tests and nurses and needles and tubes and meds and other bullshit could drive a person crazy. With a sudden burst of frustration, Ponyboy let out an exasperated groan, the sound escaping through clenched teeth and echoing through the room. Sodapop exchanged a worried glance with Darry, understanding his brother's suffering, but he also stepped forward, trying to provide a soothing gently touched Pony's arm, his voice soft and reassuring, "I know it's hard, Ponyboy. We're here for you," he said, "Ain't nothin' to fret over, kid."
"Easy for you to say. You don't know what it's like," Pony responded irritably. He turned away as his face grew hot and missed the pained expression on Soda's face.
"No, you're right. I don't," Soda replied slowly and soothingly, "But I hear ya."
"Hang in there," Ron added.
At one point, Pony got up and turned around so he was sitting on the edge of the bed ready to get up. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?" Darry asked him in a stern tone. He put a hand around his bicep because, truth was, Pony was wobbling.
"Let me go, Darry, I need to go to the bathroom," Pony answered in a huff, and Darry let go as Pony slid off the bed, almost falling in the process when his legs wouldn't carry him. Soda and Darry had to get on either side of him and hold him up. Pony sighed in defeat.
"I can go by myself, I don't need a babysitter," and Darry took his hand off Pony's arm. But Soda stayed on.
"Who said anything about babysitting? I prefer the term, 'bathroom cheerleader'," Soda quipped.
"Very funny, Soda," Pony retorted, trying not to grin.
"Don't fall in!" Soda joked with a smile as Pony shut the door. His smile immediately switched to a scowl when the door closed and his face fell.
Darry placed a hand on Soda's shoulder, his expression filled with empathy. "I hate this as much as you do, Pepsi-Cola – but it's harder for Pony than it is for either of us. So let's just stay strong for him, alright?"
Soda nodded.
"You work today?" Darry asked.
"Yeah, I think from 1 till 6 or something like that," Soda replied.
"I'm gonna take the day off," Darry said, "They have me on for a few hours at the warehouse but it's peanuts."
"You sure that's a good idea?" Soda asked, cocking his eyebrow. Things had to be bad if Darry was actually considering giving up the pay they needed.
"Yeah…we sure could use the money but…Pony needs us, too.I wanna be here. They don't really need me today, I had to convince them to put me on the clock."
"Long as you don't mind him snapping your head off," Soda quipped, "He's in a foul mood."
"Wouldn't you be?" Darry replied, always the rational one. "He's probably suffering," he paused, "That's what I mean – I think Pony needs support. He's having a bad day. He'll never admit it, but I can see it in his face," Darry replied, "I just don't know how much more of these days off I'll be able to take – I hope he won't have much more of this."
"I hear that."
When Pony stumbled back to the bed, Sodapop and Darry worked together to adjust his pillows, trying to find a position that offered him some relief. It was a little easier this time because he didn't have an IV in his arm but even flopping over on his side didn't seem to be working.
And then Two-Bit and Steve waltzed in. Steve carried a plastic bag loosely hanging from his fingers.
"Well, howdy there, Curtis crew! How are my favorite no-good hoods?" Two-Bit greeted cheerfully.
"Just peachy," Pony grumbled back with a tinge of sarcasm.
"What's with him?" Steve asked Sodapop, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Darry shot Steve a stern glance, "Mind keepin' quiet?" he warned.
"He's not feelin' too great," Sodapop answered his friend, "Puked this morning."
"Might as well announce it in the morning paper," Pony muttered, his face growing hot again.
"I oughta send it into the Reader's Digest," Two-Bit teased, but Pony wasn't interested in jokes
"Just forget it, alright?" he replied, irritated.
"Charming, kid. I give up my day to play nursemaid to my poor, sick buddy and this is the thanks I get?" Two-Bit quipped.
"You can go home if you want," Pony answered.
"If I had any sense, I'd be in school right now, like I was supposed to be. But here I am. Like it or lump it." Two-Bit said with a good-natured grin. "Kid, what's eatin' at you today?"
Pony's face fell. "School's back?"
"Yeah, it is," Two-Bit confirmed. Schools across Tulsa had been closed for a few days due to the inclement weather, but now they were back up and running, which meant things were getting back to routine. Pony desperately wanted to be part of that normal, but he was stuck in a hospital bed.
Two-Bit pointed a finger at his friend, "You're the only kid I know that actually wants to be there. I'd love to miss a few days."
"Hey, you're doing that right now!" Soda laughed.
"Beats being trapped in this sterile prison," Pony muttered.
"And what's your excuse?" Darry asked Steve, arms crossed in front of him.
"I'm out today, on account of the blizzard," Steve proclaimed proudly.
"So you're playing hooky too?" Darry grunted in disapproval.
"I had Two-Bit's mom call us in sick," Steve boasted.
"I'm the one here who's actually sick," Pony replied despondently.
"Is that true?" Soda asked, turning to Two-Bit.
"Yup. She feels bad for the poor kid here. The only one who's 'actually sick,'" he retorted, casting a meaningful glance at the youngest Curtis, "Wants us to visit him."
Ponyboy frowned. "Like I said, you can go home if you want," he emphasized, not in the mood.
"Now why in the world would I do that?" Two-Bit asked, his eyes twinkling.
"You look like hell, Ponyboy," Steve quipped from behind Two-Bit. And he wasn't lying.
"Thanks Steve. You made my day."
Darry finally put his foot down, "Guys, Pony ain't feelin' too great so if you can't ease up and drop the attitude then maybe you should go," he demanded.
"I ain't stickin' around, man," Steve replied, "Just came to drop something off."
He pulled out a copy of The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand from the plastic bag and put it on Pony's lap. Pony looked down in shock and gingerly picked it up, holding it between weak fingers.
"Where'd you find this?" he asked, unable to hide his genuine pleasure.
Steve shrugged nonchalantly. "Woman at the gift shop recommended it. Told me it was good for 'introspection' or something like that," he said, not believing his own words.
Pony had actually read the book before, but he didn't want Steve to know that. Aware of Steve's usual attitude towards him, he felt touched by the unexpected act of kindness. But then, Steve had been surprisingly considerate to him since he'd been admitted to the hospital. He just liked to hide it real well.
"Thanks," he said, trying to act cool, but the look in his eyes gave it away.
Meanwhile, Soda couldn't contain his joy, his face beaming with glee that Pony looked happier, as he clapped his friend on the back.
"What else is in there?" he asked, noticing the bag was still full. Steve pulled out one of those styrofoam cups that Two-Bit had brought in the other -Bit smiled big, having been there when Steve had bought it.
"Milkshake," Steve said, holding it up for all (but mostly Pony) to see. "Kid, if I hand this over to ya, you better drink at least half, got it? Not wasting a perfectly good milkshake on you,"
Ponyboy nodded, his mind reeling with disbelief. What a strange day – that was getting better on account of none other than Steve Randle.
For a split second, Darry wanted to reprimand his buddies on all the milkshakes lately – they weren't healthy. But at this point, he kept his mouth shut. It was the only thing that got Pony to put something in his system.
Unfortunately, the milkshake didn't go down as smooth as he would have liked, but Pony did try to drink some and Steve didn't say anything in the end either.
As the next few hours dragged on, Pony remained in a constant state of discomfort and pain. His body refused to give him a break. Two-Bit, ever the loyal friend, decided to stay, providing a steady stream of stories to distract him from the distress, and the room became a hub of laughter and light-hearted banter, momentarily lifting Pony's spirits.
Meanwhile, Steve left to work on some car project and Sodapop headed off to the DX, leaving Pony in the capable hands of his older brother. Darry, never one to shy away from responsibility, and with a mix of worry and compassion, stayed close to his little brother, ensuring his every need was attended to. Despite Pony's irritability and frustration, Darry was surprisingly sympathetic, patient and understanding, a far cry from the Darry Curtis of a year ago
Eventually, Two-Bit pulled out a pack of cards and the trio played a few rounds of poker. Darry sat next to his brother on the bed facing the door as Two-Bit took charge of shuffling the cards. Ponyboy's weakened state made it difficult for him to truly pay attention. His focus was weak and his tired eyes caused the cards to blur into a jumbled mess. At one point, Two-Bit stopped shuffling as he looked up and got Darry's attention. Pony's head had drooped forward as his eyes closed and his shoulders relaxed. Just as Darry turned to look at his brother, he nodded off, slumping against Darry's right shoulder involuntarily.
"Pone?" Darry called out, gently propping Ponyboy up and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Huh?" Pony asked, cracking an eye open and not even realizing he had fallen asleep, "Is it my tur–?" His words trailed off as his brain struggled to focus. He blinked a few times, trying to shake off the drowsiness. Two-Bit chuckled as Darry patted him on the back.
"I think you missed your turn," Two-Bit said, a playful grin on his face.
Pony yawned, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, grateful for Darry's support keeping him from falling forward. "I guess I am kinda tired," Ponyboy admitted, "But don't let me stop you guys from playing."
"You need your rest," Darry said, exchanging a knowing glance with Two-Bit.
"We'll call it," Two-Bit said, "Better be ready for my win next time," he teased, winking at the kid.
But Pony was already easing down into the bed, drifting back towards sleep.
Darry arranged the pillow to support his brother's head. "Sleep tight, little buddy," he whispered.
After Pony went to sleep, Darry went to find Ron to ask him if he could use one of those special faculty showers by Ron's office. Ron obliged, of course. By the time Darry got back, Pony was awake and he was sitting up flipping through his new book.
"Look who's finally awake," Darry teased.
"I didn't sleep that long, Darry," Pony replied with a scowl.
"Yeah, I know. I wasn't serious. You sleep ok, kiddo? How you feelin'?" Darry asked.
"Ok," Pony said.
"Talking to him is like pulling teeth," Two-Bit teased.
Ponyboy cracked a grin. "I feel better than before, smarty," he said
"Even tried to get me to read him that highfalutin new book of his," Two-Bit cut in, like it was the funniest thing he'd heard all day.
Pony shrugged, "It's hard for me to read it myself.
"So why didn't you?" Darry turned to Two-Bit.
"Darrel," Two-Bit began, using Darry's full name for effect, "You know as well as I do that I don't read."
Ponyboy rolled his eyes.
"Then what in god's name are you even doing here?" Darry teased.
"Can't a guy converse with his buddy?" Two-Bit asked, turning to the youngest Curtis, "Ponyboy, what's the first thing you're gonna do when you get outta here?"
"Beat you at cards," Pony replied sleepily.
"You see, Darry? A man with goals." Two-Bit said, pointing at Pony as he got up from his chair, "I need to go pick up little sis. See you guys later?"
They nodded their goodbyes and Darry patted his pal on the back before he left.
"Don't you have work too, Darry?" Pony asked, frowning.
Darry knew Pony would eventually ask. "Yea, they put me on the schedule at the warehouse for a few hours today but I decided I wanted to stay with you."
Pony felt guilty. Not only was he ruining his own day, but now he was ruining Darry's. "Don't we need the money?" He asked innocently.
"We do," Darry said honestly, "But a few hours ain't gonna do much. And Soda's working today too."
"I'm a lousy person to be around, Darry," Pony told him. Darry wrapped his arm around Pony, which hurt a bit and made him wince. "See?" Darry didn't let go, though, just loosened up his grip.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, buddy," he said, "No worse than any other day," he teased, and Pony actually broke into a grin. "Look, it was my choice. You're not ruining my day, trust me," he said. "I want to be here."
Pony appreciated Darry's reassurance and actually felt a bit of relief wash over him. "Thanks, Darry," he said softly.
Darry picked up the copy of The Fountainhead that was on the bedside table. "Whaddya say we do something to take our minds off things?" he asked his baby brother. "Want me to read this to you?"
Ponyboy shifted restlessly in the hospital bed, his gaze fixed upon the novel. "Darry," he began, "You know that book Steve gave me – well, the thing about it is – I've read it before. I mean, I remember reading it."
Darry nodded in understanding and then broke into a smile, "Why am I not surprised?" he chuckled softly. "So what's it about?"
"It's – It's about a guy…an architect. He's – he's different, ya know? He – he fights for his beliefs," Pony's voice wavered as his train of thought derailed. His voice trailed off as he tried with great difficulty to remember the rest. Instead he dropped his chin in disappointment.
Darry's brow furrowed with concern as he reached out and placed a comforting hand on Pony's shoulder, seeing the befuddled look on his face. "Hey…it's ok, kiddo. Take your time. Don't push yourself too hard."
Pony nodded, his eyes searching for something, "I guess – I guess my memory's still fuzzy," he said.
His voice was tinged with uncertainty, "It's about a guy – a guy named Howard. He had his own ideas. His own style. He was like a rebel in —-"
It was like trying to grasp a slippery fish, or squeeze the water out of a wet paper towel, the excess dripping through his fingers.
The words hung in the air. Pony looked up at Darry, stunned and bewildered by his elusive memory.
"I'm sorry," he finally admitted, teary-eyed, a mix of frustration and disappointment on his face, "I can't remember the rest."