(Sodapop's POV)

"Two-Bit, quit your pacing," Steve spat. "Or go drive someone else crazy."

Two-Bit glanced at Steve with an upset expression, but he remained quiet as he sat in the chair across from us while Steve kept his arm across my shoulders and let me lean into his side. They were both real good buddies for not mentioning how much crying I had done.

It wasn't Two-Bit's fault that Steve was upset, and it wasn't Steve's fault that he was a bundle of nerves; we had been waiting for an eternity to hear news about either of my brothers, and it was taking on toll on all of us, me especially. By the time Steve and Two-Bit picked me up from the floor by the double doors and put me in a chair in the waiting room, I probably cried about a gallon of tears.

How could this happen? Pony was just running on the track a couple of hours ago, and now he and Darry are in the ER… why do things like this keep happening to us?

"It'll be okay, Soda," Steve said, rubbing his hand up and down my arm. "Everything will be okay buddy."

"Pony's just about as tough as Muscles. They'll be fine," Two-Bit reassured.

I suddenly wondered if I was voicing my thoughts out loud, or if the guys just knew what was running through my head. I guess it didn't matter in the end; I was worried and scared, and they knew it.

"Mr. Curtis?" a voice asked, causing me to snap my head up and look at something other than the floor.

I was never called "Mr. Curtis" unless a teacher was getting mad at me for something, so being addressed that way already stressed me out. Dad was "Mr. Curtis," but since he died, it's been Darry. I don't want that title. Please don't let that title fall on me.

The middle-aged man in the white coat looked at me with unwavering eyes, and I wondered how many horrible things he had seen in his time in his chosen profession and how my brothers compared to said things. "How are they?" I asked, terrified of his answer.

"Both of your brothers are in the ICU," he said stoically. "Your older brother, Darrel, is being treated for burns and smoke inhalation, but he is awake."

I could hear Steve and Two-Bit let out breaths along with me. Darry's alive and awake. "Can I see him? And what about Ponyboy? He wasn't breathing the last time I saw him."

I had managed to tell Steve and Two-Bit what had happened in between sobs while we were in the waiting room. They knew how rough Pony and Darry were, and I was sure they shared the same concerns I had.

The doctor let out a breath, and that scared me more than anything. "We got him to breathe again, and he is also being treated for the same things as Darrel, but he's in poor condition. Since he was in the fire for a longer duration, Ponyboy was exposed to more smoke, causing his respiratory system to sustain more damage than Darrel."

I choked out a sob, but tried to keep it quiet. Even so, Steve spoke for me. "So how is it looking for the kid?"

The doctor took a few seconds to respond, and I was sure my heart was going to shatter in those moments. "It's too soon to tell. He's breathing with the help of our equipment, but I'm not sure how long he was without oxygen. That, along with the seizure he had-"

"What're you tryin' to say, doc?" Two-Bit said angrily, jumping to his feet and staring daggers at the doctor. It was like he was daring the man to say something we weren't going to like, while I prayed for only good news.

The doctor didn't seem fazed by Two-Bit's temper. "All I'm saying is he's in rough shape, but we're doing everything we can for him." Two-Bit seemed to accept the doctor's response, but he kept looking at the man as he turned to talk directly to me. "I do want to address something else, Mr. Curtis. Was Ponyboy in some type of altercation in addition to being in the fire?"

That caught me off guard. "What? No, he just ran in the state track meet before getting caught in the fire. Why?"

The doctor looked puzzled. "We've found some injuries that don't quite make sense."

Alarm bells were ringing in my head. "Like what?"

"After cleaning him up and addressing his burns, we've found several bruises and fractures, including three ribs and a skull fracture. He has swelling in his brain, but we've managed to keep it down, and it seems to be decreasing as we speak."

I felt like I was going to throw up. What happened to my baby brother?

"Where the hell did all those come from?" Steve asked nobody in particular.

"We can't be sure, but whatever the reason, we're trying all of Ponyboy's injuries the best we can," the doctor said in a hopeful tone. "In the meantime, I can take you to Darrel's room."

I stood up immediately, but I felt real shaky. Darry's hurt, but not nearly as bad as Ponyboy. Is he going to be okay? I can't lose anyone else.

"C'mon Soda," Steve said quietly. I didn't realize he kept his arm across my shoulders, but I was thankful for him; I was pretty sure I'd fall into pieces if he wasn't holding me together in that moment. "Let's go see Muscles."

The doctor led us to Darry's room, and the moment I stepped through the doorway, I froze. My big, strong, tough brother was lying in a hospital bed with wires attached to him, a tube leading to his nose, and a few bandages on his scorched skin. He was still shirtless and the bedsheets only went up to his waist, so I could see where the flames touched his chest, arms, and even up to his neck and face. I was sure the white bandages covered the worst of them, but there were still faint red marks all over his body.

We must've made noise as we approached the room, because Darry opened his eyes and looked right at me. "Hey, little buddy."

Despite his voice reminding me of nails scratching against a chalkboard, the nickname snapped me out of my frozen state. I went right to the chair next to Darry's bed and sat down, looking at my brother's face, searching for any sign of hidden injury. "Hey, Dar. How are you feeling?"

He shifted in his bed a little so he was in more of a sitting position, and I didn't miss the wince or the groan he let out as he moved. "I'm fine." I wanted to roll my eyes or press a little more, but he was just being Darry: stubborn, wanting to protect everyone else, and not let anyone know when he's hurting. "Did they tell you about Pony?"

I felt like I was getting punched in the stomach, and I looked down. "Yeah."

Despite the pain I was sure that he was in, Darry reached towards me and gripped my shoulder. "He'll be okay, Soda."

I nodded, hoping that he was right. Still, I kept staring at my feet.

"How's it goin' Superman?" Two-Bit asked, his voice getting louder as he and Steve approached. I didn't realize they didn't walk into the room with me, but they were apparently giving me and Darry a moment before they joined us.

"Hey guys," Darry said. I didn't miss how tired he seemed, and his voice still sounded raw and gravelly. Then he looked at Steve, who sat next to me. "Thanks for taking the truck and keeping Soda safe."

"Don't mention it," Steve said immediately. I was still upset with Steve and Darry for not wanting me to help my brothers, but considering I was the only Curtis not in the hospital, I understood why they did what they did. Still, I was irritated about it.

"Excuse me, may I come in?" a voice said from the doorway. We all turned to look at a different doctor standing there. This one was younger than the one that brought us to Darry's room.

"Sure, come in," Darry said, somehow managing to make his voice suddenly sound stronger.

The dark-haired doctor walked in with a small smile on his face. "Hello everyone, I'm Doctor Thompson. Darry here is my patient, and I'm also working alongside Doctor Wells to take care of Ponyboy."

"Do you have any more news?" Darry asked, his strong voice wavering a bit.

The doctor nodded. "I do, but not necessarily about Ponyboy's condition." The man must have seen the confused looks on our faces, because he looked at Darry and explained further. "I spoke with the fire department, and they found the cause of the fire. Apparently, there were cleaning products in the garbage, and something ignited them, along with whatever else was flammable. It was likely a lighter, a cigarette, or something similar that was the source of ignition. I normally don't need this much information, but the fumes from the chemicals could be hazardous to your health, so we'll be keeping a close eye on you and your brother."

I looked at Darry with wide eyes. There's more to worry about than I thought.

"How long do I need to stay here?" Darry asked. He wasn't being impolite, but anyone who has been around Darry for more than a second could tell that he didn't want to be stuck in a hospital bed any longer than he had to be, not only because of the medical bills that would pile up, but because it meant he wasn't able to be with Pony.

Doctor Thompson didn't seem irritated, but instead, he almost seemed entertained by Darry's question. "At least a full twenty-four hours." Even though he didn't do it, I knew Darry wanted to groan, argue, and roll his eyes at the doctor. "We want to make sure you don't have any lasting effects from the smoke and chemical fumes. Your burns have been addressed, and as long as you take care of them and keep them clean, those shouldn't become a problem. Although, they will take a while to heal completely, and some of them might scar."

The room was quiet for a moment, but eventually, Steve replied to the doctor. "Thanks doc. Anything else we need to know?"

He shook his head. "Not at this time." Then the man looked at me and Darry. "If Ponyboy's condition changes at all, I'll be sure you are updated as soon as possible."

We all muttered our thanks to the doctor as he left the room. As soon as it was just us four, the guys and I turned our attention back to Darry, who somehow looked more exhausted than just minutes before.

"How bad are you hurtin' Dar?" I asked cautiously.

Darry shrugged, but his eyes were only open halfway, so I knew he was tired and probably hiding a good amount of pain. "Nothing I can't handle. They gave me some medicine to help, so don't worry about me."

Darry never liked people fussing over him, especially not when he was hurt or anything, but he was in a hospital bed after running into a fire… of course I was going to worry about him!

"You know, you don't always have to be Superman," Two-Bit said quietly. Darry and I both looked at Two-Bit, and he looked pale and worried. "You're covered in burns, man. Then you passed out when you got here. It wouldn't be crazy if you said you were hurtin'. We wouldn't hold it against you."

I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks that.

"I'm fine, really," Darry said. I bit my tongue, not sure how I could convince Darry to allow himself to be vulnerable.

Steve stood up suddenly. "Come on, Two-Bit. Let's get something to eat." Then my best friend looked at me. "We'll bring some food back with us. You gonna be alright?"

I nodded and gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Steve."

He wordlessly nodded, then when he started walking towards the door, Two-Bit quietly followed. The moment the guys were gone, I looked back at Darry.

"You can tell me if you're hurting, Dar," I said calmly. "No sense in hidin' it, especially not from me." Darry rarely talked about his feelings or showed pain, but if he ever shared those things with anybody, it was with me. We had the unique relationship and we've only gotten closer as time went on.

He thought about it for a minute, but eventually his stoic expression faltered slightly. "The burns hurt a little, but I'll be fine, Soda. I'm more worried about how bad off Pony is."

I nodded, understanding Darry completely. We had no idea how Pony ended up being hurt and stuck in a fire just a short time after his track meet.

"What do you think happened?" I asked Darry, knowing he didn't know any more than I did. "He walked into the school totally fine, but now he has busted ribs and head, and he got caught in a fire. How did this happen?" I didn't realize I was crying until I felt myself sniffle.

Darry placed a hand on my knee and gave it a squeeze. "I don't know, little buddy."

We sat there for a minute, just me sobbing and Darry looking upset but refusing to cry. In the silence, I recalled everything that I had been told since arriving to the hospital, and something was bugging me.

"You don't think he was smoking in the locker room and tossed a cigarette into the garbage, do you?" I asked Darry, my voice practically at a whisper. "I mean, he's been cutting back on the smokin' and everything. He couldn't have started the fire, right?"

Darry and I were real proud of Ponyboy for smoking less than he used to. We knew it was hard for him, especially when he'd get mood swings from nicotine withdrawal, but overall, he had done a good job. He barely went through a pack a week, which helped with saving money and keeping the house from smelling like a fire. I cringed at the thought. Isn't it ironic that Pony's smoking less, but he got exposed to smoke anyway?

Darry took a breath, and it looked like it took all of his strength to remain calm and emotionless. I could understand why, in the past, Ponyboy thought Darry didn't have emotions or didn't care about him, but if you know Darry well enough, you can see that he's just good at controlling his feelings. "I was thinking about that too, but I don't think he'd do that." He took a couple more breaths, and I couldn't tell if he was struggling to breathe, or if he was trying to keep himself from crying. "He just won multiple events in the state meet, and we were going to take him out to celebrate. I don't think the first thing he'd think to do is light up a smoke." I nodded to Darry's words, hoping they were true. "If he did start it, he could've gotten help and found us. He knew we were there."

I nodded my head, glad that Darry and I were on the same page. Of course Pony didn't start the fire, but since it wasn't him, who was it?

My mind was spinning as I tried to figure out how my kid brother went from state champion to hospital patient in a matter of a hours. I wanted to figure things out and discuss with Darry, but I could tell he was fading fast. His eyes were almost shut, and his grip on my knee had weakened.

"Get some sleep, Darry. You deserve it," I said. And you need it. "I'll be here when you wake up."

He didn't even argue with me; he closed his eyes and immediately drifted off.