(Soda's POV)

By the time Steve and I returned to the hospital, I knew I had to apologize to Darry for yelling at him earlier. Sure, I was still upset he thought he was going to work while he was recovering and everything, but I realized I should've been calmer about it. I was a peacemaker at heart, and I needed to make sure Darry and I were okay and on good terms again; I couldn't handle it if we kept arguing on top of everything else that was going on.

We were only a few doors away from Pony's room when I surprisingly spotted Darry outside of our brother's room. He was standing in a small area that had a couple tables, chairs, and coffee machines on the counter that he was leaning against. I wondered what could've caused him to leave Pony's room, but when I spotted the cup in his hand and the bags under his eyes, I knew he needed the caffeine to stay awake and functional.

"Go ahead into Pony's room, Steve. I'll be there in a minute," I said to my best friend.

He followed my eyes, and after spotting Darry, he replied casually. "Okay." He took the duffle bag I was holding and brought it, along with the one he was carrying, to Pony's room.

I approached Darry, and I was pretty sure he didn't notice me until I was right in front of him. "Hey, Dar." He looked startled, like Ponyboy does when you catch him daydreaming and suddenly snap him out of it. When the surprised expression disappeared from his face, I spoke before he even had the chance. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I just don't want you hurtin' because you go back to work too early. I know we need to pay the bills, so I'll keep working and you keep healing, okay?"

Darry looked conflicted, and I prepared myself for a battle of wills, but after a few seconds, he let out a sigh. "Okay." I was surprised that he caved, and even more surprised when he wrapped his arms around me, managing to not spill a drop of coffee in the process. "Thank you, Soda. And I'm sorry for making you worry."

I returned the embrace and felt a smile appear on my face. "It's okay, just don't let it happen again."

For the new few days, I forced myself to go to work for what felt like the longest shifts of my life, and the minute I punched out every day, I was on my way to visit Ponyboy. Steve drove me most of the time, but since Darry barely left the hospital, I took the truck sometimes too. The first time I took the truck, I remembered to put Pony's medals and trophies in our bedroom and Darry took the college coaches' cards out of the glove compartment; that way if anyone decided to break into our old, rusty truck, they wouldn't get anything of value.

If Steve wasn't at work with me, he was almost always at the hospital, along with Two-Bit. I didn't know if those two just forgot about the end of the school year or if they actually talked to someone from the school about missing classes, but I figured it was unlikely that they cared much. They told me they had been asking around to see if anyone knew what happened to Ponyboy in the locker room, but they weren't having much luck. Even the Shepards were trying to find answers on our behalf too, which I found out one day when Tim and Curly stopped by the hospital to see how Ponyboy was doing. I guess even the toughest greasers in town had a soft spot for my kid brother.

Besides staying with Ponyboy practically every second, Darry was staying busy. The Monday morning after Pony's state track meet, Darry called his boss and Pony's school right away. The school already knew about Pony being in the fire and they were planning on sending someone to the hospital to speak with Darry and see how Pony was doing, but Darry wasn't having it. Apparently, he managed to give the school the information they needed and he convinced whoever he was talking to that nobody else needed to visit the hospital. I think all of us were happy that there wouldn't be more visitors. Like anyone at the school actually cares about Pony. He doesn't needed strangers coming into his room left and right; he just needs to rest and wake up.

Once his work and Pony's school stuff were taken care of, Darry also called the college coaches that were interested in Ponyboy and told them about what happened. When I asked him why he bothered calling them, he said he didn't want them to think Pony blew them off; he wanted those doors to still be open for Pony when he woke up. Not for the first time, I admired my older brother's ability to think ahead and be so responsible, no matter what was going on around him.

With seemingly everything taken care of right away, I had hoped that Darry would take it easy and let himself heal a bit, but Darry didn't seem capable of doing that. If he wasn't at Pony's bedside, he was talking with the doctors, calling Pony's school, refilling his coffee, or rarely, he'd be at the house to shower or sleep in his own bed, but only if someone else was with Pony when he was away. I couldn't blame him for that last part, especially since I was either at work or at the hospital most of the time too, but I wasn't in the fire like my brothers were, so while I thought it was fine for me to sleep in an uncomfortable hospital chair, I didn't like that Darry slept in a chair more often than in his own bed.

The Friday after Pony's track meet and almost-death, Steve and I were both working the night shift at the DX. I had been there since opening that morning, but I picked up the extra closing shift for more hours. When Steve came in for his shift in the afternoon, he looked at me with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. "You look exhausted man. Why'd you pick up the night shift too?"

I was resting my elbow on the counter and holding my head up with my hand when he had walked in. I let out a sigh and straightened up, hoping to look more awake than I felt. "We need the money."

Steve narrowed his eyes a little, and I knew he didn't like my answer, but he didn't say anything about it either. It was the truth, after all.

The two of us worked like it was a typical day at the DX, but we were both quieter than usual. Normally, the two of us had a great time hanging out and working on cars, fitting in some time for harmless flirting and joking around, but I was too tired to do much of anything, and Steve seemed to understand. While he was in the garage working on some Soc's car, I stayed up front at the register, counting down the minutes until I could close the store and go back to the hospital.

Is this what my life is going to be like until Pony wakes up? How long is it gonna be like this?

A loud ringing sound snapped me into the present, and after several seconds of my brain catching up, I realized the phone was ringing right next to me.

"You gonna answer that, Soda?" I heard Steve say from the garage.

I ignored his comment and tried to sound wide awake when I answered the phone. "DX, this is Soda. How can I help you?"

"Soda." It took me a moment to figure out the scared and strained voice on the other line was Darry.

"Darry? What's goin' on?" I asked, my voice matching the tone of my older brother's. A moment later, Steve appeared in front of me and looking real worried, so I knew he heard me.

"It's Pony."

(Darry's POV)

The days after the fire were the longest and hardest days of my life, and that's saying something. I was in pain, exhausted, and praying that my baby brother would be alright practically every single minute that I was awake. The guys, mostly Soda, kept reminding me that I could take some medicine for the pain and to help me sleep, but I never wanted to admit weakness and cave by taking anything.

Even though Soda and I had talked and we had both apologized to each other, I knew he was still unhappy about being at work while Ponyboy was lying in a hospital bed. Even so, when I mentioned something about going back to work, he scolded me slightly and told me not to even think about work yet. I was thankful he was helping out and picking up extra shifts, but I knew everything was weighing Soda's shoulders down like a bunch of lead weights.

As the days went by, the bags under Soda's eyes got bigger and darker, which just added to the guilt and uneasiness I felt about the situation. I knew he didn't want me to bring it up, but I was worried about him.

"How's Soda doing?" Two-Bit asked, bringing me back to my senses. The two of us were sitting in Ponyboy's room like we had been doing every day since my brother was admitted. He had wanted to play cards, but I told him I wasn't up for it.

"About as well as expected," I muttered. I remembered the night before when I almost had to shove Soda out of the room so he could go home to sleep before he pulled a double at the DX. "I really wish he didn't have to work for the both of us."

"I hear ya, man," Two-Bit said solemnly. "He's startin' to remind me of you."

I knew he didn't mean anything by it, but I cringed at Two-Bit's statement. I didn't want Soda to remind anyone of me, he was too young and too full of life to act like someone well beyond his years. He's just a kid himself, he shouldn't be the one working his butt off.

Moments later, the doctor appeared and walked into Pony's room. "How are we doing today?" Dr. Thompson asked. "Dr. Wells informed me that Ponyboy was in stable condition this morning."

"Stable condition" must mean that not even the slightest thing had changed, because Pony looked about as unconscious that day as he had ever since Soda and I first visited him. Despite many nurses and both of his doctors checking on him multiple times a day, we never had any updates on Pony's condition, and as the days went on, I was feeling less optimistic about my kid brother making it. It's all my fault, I was too slow.

"Same old, same old," Two-Bit said, missing the usual humor in his voice. "Kid's still takin' a nap."

I appreciated Two-Bit calling Pony's coma "a nap" because it didn't sound as serious, but I could tell my buddy was starting to lose hope too.

Dr. Thompson nodded and gave us a small, sincere smile. "I see. Well, I'll take a look and see if anything has changed."

The doctor proceeded to do what he always did: greet Ponyboy by name, look at the machines next to the bed, tell Pony what he was doing, ask him to do things like open his eyes or squeeze his hand, then he flashed a light in Pony's eyes. It was a mundane procedure that I had seen done many times, but this time, something either confused or surprised Dr. Thompson, because after flashing a light in his eyes, the doctor straightened up and raised his eyebrows.

"Ponyboy? Can you hear me?" Dr. Thompson asked. Then he grabbed Pony's hand on Two-Bit's side of the bed. "Can you squeeze my hand?"

"Is something wrong?" I asked. My heart immediately started pounding in my chest.

The doctor glanced at me and gave me a grin. "He's responding to stimuli."

I practically lunged forward so I could grab Pony's free hand and squeeze it. "Pony? You there, little buddy?"

For a minute or two, all three of us in the room tried talking to Ponyboy, but we never got a verbal response. Instead, the machines next to his bed started sounding alarms.

"I need help in here!" Dr. Thompson shouted, making my blood turn to ice.

"Doc? What's goin' on?" Two-Bit asked, his voice dripping with worry and terror.

Before we could get answers, a couple nurses and another doctor came running into the room. The nurses pushed Two-Bit out of the way, and the new doctor tried to get me away from my brother. "Sir, you need to move."

"This is my brother!" I said, raising my voice above the alarms and all the voices in the room.

"I understand, but we need the room cleared to take care of him," the man said in a stern voice.

I was about to throw a punch, but I thought better of it. If I hit a doctor, Pony's health would be at risk, and I'd end up in jail; both of those things would just make the situation worse, and Soda would be livid with me.

"Come on, Darry," Two-Bit said, suddenly appearing next to me and pulling my arm. "Let's give 'em space to help your brother."

As my buddy pulled me out of the room, I glanced back at my baby brother one more time. Please be okay, Pony.

Two-Bit led me down the hall, and once we were far enough away, he finally spoke up. "Shoot man, I thought you were gonna slug that doctor."

"I was thinking about it," I muttered.

He let out a laugh. "I'm glad you didn't. Then I'd have to call Soda up and tell him he needed to bail you outta jail."

Soda.

"I need to call him," I said. The first day Soda went to work, I agreed to call him the minute anything about Pony's condition changed, and I knew he'd need to know about what had just happened.

Two-Bit walked with me to the payphone, and after steadying myself by taking a couple deep breaths, I put the coins in and called the DX. It took a few rings, but eventually, I heard Soda's tired voice on the other line. "DX, this is Soda. How can I help you?"

"Soda." I realized my voice didn't sound as steady as I hoped it would, but after remembering what happened in Pony's room, I didn't think I'd be able to sound any better.

"Darry? What's goin' on?" Soda asked. He was scared, and rightfully so.

"It's Pony," I said, still sounding less like myself than I had hoped.

There was a short paused, and I heard my brother sniffle, so I knew he was crying already. "What happened?"

"I- I don't know," I said truthfully. "The doctor came to check on him, and he said something about Pony responding to stimuli, but then the machines started blaring and they kicked me and Two-Bit out of the room."

I heard Steve in the background trying to talk to Soda, probably trying to figure out what was going on, but before Soda could say anything else, I added, "I think you should come up here." In case this is it. That last sentence was unspoken, but I had a feeling Soda knew what I was getting at.

"We'll be there soon," Soda said somberly, then he hung up.