A/N: Sorry if the POV style is a little odd lol I tried to switch it between the characters so that we could get more thoughts from them

--

Sometimes, Darry feels like he has no time to sleep anymore. Even though most nights he's so tired he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow, it may as well be that he's falling asleep at 5:59 in the morning as his alarm wakes him up at 6 because the night flies by so fast. This morning was no different when the clock on his bedside table began blaring its ugly alarm and he fought the urge to punch it off the table and go back to sleep. But begrudgingly, he sluggishly hit it off and swept the blankets off him after just staring at the ceiling for a few seconds. He lowered his feet onto the cold wooden floor of his bedroom and walked out into the hallway of the house, into his brothers' room.

He opened their door slowly, making his entrance known when it creaked awfully loud. Not that it mattered, of course, because when he caught a look at his brothers, they were still knocked out cold. He really hated to wake them up in the mornings, especially cold winter mornings like these when all anyone wants to do is stay cuddled in blankets against the cold air. If Darry was being honest, they were probably almost as tired as him, if not just as tired, with Sodapop working a full job at 16 years old and Ponyboy having to deal with all his school work and other activities, like track. He physically winced when he shook his brothers awake, wishing he could just let them sleep because he knew how tired they must be, wishing he could go back to bed and crawl under the covers. But these houses wouldn't roof themselves.

Ironically, it seemed like something in the back of his mind was telling him to let them stay home, as he noticed the skin through the fabric of Ponyboy's t-shirt seemed warmer than Soda's as he shook their shoulders. His face seemed a little flushed as well, finding it odd that he would be hot since it was January. Darry made a mental note to ask him about it after they freshened up in case he felt any better.

"C'mon guys, time to wake up," He said after a second when they didn't react. They then began to stir and Soda slapped Darry's hand away, turning over to face the opposite side. Pony did the same thing and he almost laughed at how similar they were, and how most of the time they didn't even realize it.

"I know, guys, I'm sorry," Darry said sympathetically, gently slapping their arms before turning the desk lamp on, lightening the room in contrast to the dark winter morning that darkened their room.

"Get up," He told them one last time before heading to the bathroom to take a shower.

Meanwhile, Sodapop and Ponyboy struggled to wake up completely, but Soda got up immediately anyway, kicking back the blankets, walking over to the closet, and taking a clean DX button-up off the hanger, and a white shirt and jeans from the dresser.

But Pony couldn't wake up so easily. Most days, he would get up after Soda's got all his clothes, but today, he found himself fighting to even keep his eyes open. Most days, he doesn't wake up to the feeling of what it probably feels like to be hit by a truck. His head had a dull pound and his stomach was uneasy although the last thing he ate was at dinner last night, which was at least ten hours before. He was shivering slightly, which was odd to him because he felt hot and sticky. His throat hurt like hell and his nose felt stuffy. His eyes blinked lethargically and he only snapped back to reality when he felt Soda's hand on his shoulder, surprised to see him already dressed.

"Up and at 'em, Pone," Sodapop encouraged, his voice somehow sounding alive as if he'd been up for hours. Ponyboy groaned at shook his hand off, fighting the fatigue and forcing himself off the mattress, ditching the warmth of his comforter behind as he went to search through the drawers for something to wear.

"You okay?" He heard Soda ask from behind him, where he was looking in the old vanity and styling his hair.

"Mhm," Pony mumbled as he took out jeans and a t-shirt, feeling too hot for a hoodie or sweatshirt despite the cold temperature. He moved slowly, his arms aching slightly with the movement as he pushed the heavy drawer shut, beginning to change.

"Got anything interesting at school today?" Sodapop asked, trying to start a conversation.

"No. Got a social studies test, though." Pony told him, fighting back a yawn. He's been dreading this test since the day it was announced. And now that he's obviously coming down with something he just knows he won't do well.

"Oh, okay. You ready for it?"

"I don't know. I hope." Ponyboy told him honestly, running a comb through his hair, too lazy to put grease in it.

"Ah, you'll do fine. But don't sweat it. It's only one test. I know how much I hated social studies too." Soda told him, ruffling his hair as he passed to get his hat off the bedside table. Pony swatted his hands away, cringing when he saw his hair in the mirror, looking like a fluffy mess.

"Stop," He whined in good humor, combing through his hair for the second time.

"Oh, you're not even styling it, it takes you two seconds!" Soda laughed, smiling like crazy while adjusting the hat on his head.

"So, I still need to brush it! Plus, you were quick to get ready and you don't see me messing up your hair."

"Hey! I take that as an insult! It takes me a while to look this good." Sodapop winked, grinning and opening the bedroom door to go to the kitchen for breakfast.

Ponyboy smiled as he left the room, but it quickly dropped as the nauseousness in his stomach made himself known once again. He placed the comb down and rubbed his eyes, leaning his elbows on the thin table in front of the mirror and resting his head. He could feel his burning forehead by the way he was leaning and he cursed internally, not knowing what to do. On one hand, all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. He could tell Darry and he would let him stay home because some rules of his are that as long as you have a fever, you've thrown up, or have a diagnosed sickness by a doctor then you can stay home from school or work. But on the other, he would get behind on work and he would miss that stupid social studies test, which his teacher would have his head for. Literally and figuratively, as the test was based on the French Revolution.

"Pony?" He heard someone ask from the doorway, and he snapped his head up from where he was leaning. A little too fast though, because he felt a little lightheaded after doing so. Darry stood there, looking at him worriedly, his hair still damp from the shower he took. He was dressed in his work uniform, still tucking in his shirt.

When Darry noticed that Ponyboy was still in his room through the open door, almost instantly he became concerned with the way he was propped up on the table. Along with the fact that he felt warm when he was waking him up in the morning, he hoped that he wasn't coming down with something. The last time Pony was seriously sick was after he got sick the night of the rumble when Johnny and Dally died, save for a few little colds or spring allergy attacks. It got so bad that he needed to stay two nights in the hospital, nights that Ponyboy doesn't even remember. But those medical bills sure did, which is just another reason why Darry doesn't need anyone getting sick anytime soon if he could help it.

"Are you okay, buddy?" He asked, his concern growing when he seemed to get a little lightheaded at the sudden movement.

"Yeah, sorry. Just tired." Ponyboy told him, rubbing his eyes as he stood up fully. He went and hoisted his bag onto his shoulder, and walked over to the door to his bedroom where Darry was standing. He slipped through the doorway to avoid any more questioning, but Darry followed him into the kitchen anyhow. It was vacant, but there were two slices of cake placed out on the table along with a dirty one already in the sink, left by Sodapop who already scarfed his down and set off to the bathroom.

"Pony, let me take your temperature," Darry called behind him, finding how Ponyboy was acting suspiciously.

"Darry, I'm fine," Pony told him, dropping his bag by his seat at the kitchen table. "I just have a little headache. I'll take an aspirin." He went into the cabinet and shook out two while filling a glass with tap water.

"Are you sure?" Darry asks him, looking at him oddly. If Pony wasn't feeling so sick, why wouldn't he let him take his temperature?

"Yeah, it's fine," Ponyboy said quietly, sitting down at the table and grabbing his fork, beginning to nibble away at his slice of chocolate cake. He really wasn't up for eating anything, never mind Soda's extra-sweet chocolate cake, but if he didn't want to worry Darry, that'll have to do for the time being.

Meanwhile, Darry grabbed the thermometer from the same cabinet with the Aspirin, popped the cap off, shook it up, and then walked over to where Ponyboy was sitting, 'eating' his chocolate cake.

"C'mon, Pone, open up," Darry said, waiting expectantly for him to put his fork down. But instead, Pony just sighed, as if annoyed.

"I told you, Darry, I'm not running a fever. It's not a big deal, really. I have to leave anyway." Ponyboy said, starting to stand up and grabbing his bag. At least it was an excuse to not need to finish his breakfast.

"Yeah? Well the last time you said that, you ended up in the hospital." Low blow, Darry knows, but is he wrong?

Before anyone could say another thing, Sodapop suddenly called from the bathroom, something about the faucet not working right again. Wonderful, another thing Darry needs to worry about.

"Just... If you need anything, call me. You're not gonna walk to school, are you?" Darry said seriously, placing his hand on his brother's shoulder, and looking him in the eyes. He noticed how flushed his face looked up close, how his eyes seemed a little glossy. Before he could say anything more, Pony hoisted his bag up higher onto his shoulders, gently, Darry noticed.

"No, I'll just take the bus. I have cash." Pony started to back off towards the door. "I'll see ya later, Dar'. Tell Soda I said bye." And before anything else could be said, he had left.

--

'I should've just had him stay home.' Darry thought as he drove through the streets on the way to Pony's school.

Expectedly, the nurse had called his job saying that Ponyboy needed to go home sick. He had fallen asleep in the middle of his social studies test and was running a decently high fever. The teacher figured it out after the bell rang and he didn't start to move, so she figured that he wasn't finished with it yet. When she went up to him to check up on him, she found out pretty quickly he had fallen asleep and sent him straight to the nurse when she felt how warm he was.

So here he was, driving a half-hour drive to Ponyboy's school from his job site when he should have just stayed home. Not that Darry was mad at Pony, in any way, but he was angry at himself. Sick and stubborn don't mix well, and nobody knew that as well as Darry did. There were quite a few times when he found himself at school with a pretty high fever just because of a test or a football practice. But, he saw the signs, he should've just called his brother in sick and let him stay home.

'Too late now,' He told himself as he pulled into the parking lot, parking in the spot closest to the main entrance. He climbed out and walked inside, signing in on the sheet the front-desk worker provided him and was escorted to the nurses office that was right around the corner. The hallways were empty, as it wasn't a passing period yet and most students were in their respective classrooms. The front desk worker, an older woman named Mrs. Mills smiled politely and opened the door.

"Jean, Mr. Curtis is here." She said, and the nurse looked up from her desk as Darry walked inside. He remembers the nurse well, a woman named Mrs. Kennedy, from when he was in high school.

"Hi, Darrel, it's good to see you again! Let me take you to your brother." She shook his hand and they walked over to a section in the room where the cots lay. One of them was empty, with the curtain open, while the other was drawn shut, giving the person lying there some privacy. Mrs. Kennedy peeked inside, and Darry could hear her talking softly to the person, who he could only assume was Pony. After a second she opened the curtain all the way, pushing it all the way to the wall, revealing them.

Pony was lying on his side, two wet washcloths folded and placed on his forehead and neck. His eyes were half-lidded, indicating that he probably just woke up from a nap while he was waiting for Darry to pick him up and his cheeks were red with fever. There was a thin blanket sprawled about the bed and covered him haphazardly as if he was pushing it off and pulling it back on a million times.

Darry crouched by where his head was and put his hand over the wet washcloth, pressing the comfortingly cold towel material to his warm forehead.

"Hi, Darry," Pony mumbled tiredly, his voice scratchy thanks to the sore throat.

"Hey buddy," Darry said, cupping Pony's cheek to check his temperature. He winced when he felt how hot he was.

Ponyboy forced his eyes open wider, as if it would help him wake up more and started to maneuver himself to sit up. He felt like shit, his head was pounding, no help from the bright, fluorescent lights, and his body ached. His stomach twisted at every movement and he could not decide for the life of him whether he felt hot or cold. He wanted to go home and into his own bed so bad that he could cry, literally, as the fever made him more emotional than usual.

"Hey, okay, slow down," Darry said, helping him sit up by grabbing his shoulders and putting a supportive hand in the middle of his back. He helped Ponyboy so that he was sitting up and his legs were dangling over the cot lazily.

Before he could help him stand, Mrs. Kennedy came back from her station and handed Darry a bag full of medical goods.

"It's to keep him comfortable on the car ride. It has a vomit bag, an ice pack, and a water bottle." She told him when she realized he couldn't look inside it since he was busy holding most of his brother's weight.

"Oh, great. Thanks," He thanked her, grateful that he was now covered for the way home. He hooked the little plastic bag onto his wrist and grabbed Pony's bag, hoisting it on one of his shoulders. He wrapped his free arm around Ponyboy's waist and they stood together.

"Now," She continued, "he has a pretty high fever of 102 and I'm suspecting it's the flu based on other symptoms. If he gets worse or there's no change in twenty-four hours, I recommend having a doctor see him. Make sure he takes medicine and gets lots of rest. And keep a cold towel on his forehead if he gets too hot." She informed, leading them to the door slowly yet surely.

"Oh, and if you have one, a heating pad may help to alleviate the nausea. He's been complaining of having an upset stomach so he may throw up a few times. And if you need anything at all, call us." She had a very motherly way of saying this and it made Darry miss his mom. God, he wishes she were here. She would already know all this.

"Got it. Thank you so much, Mrs. Kennedy. Really." Darry told her with a grateful smile, and Ponyboy mumbled a small thank you as well. She nodded, making sure they got to the front desk safely, before retreating back inside.

Darry was grateful that he had parked so close to the entrance when he felt Pony get more and more weary the longer they walked. Finally, after signing out at the front desk, they made it to the car. Darry helped Pony climb into the front seat, which isnt usual because he often found himself sitting in the back because he was the youngest, but Darry wanted to keep an eye on him and it would be easier if they were sitting next to each other. He handed Pony the medical bag of stuff before throwing his backpack in the back seat and walked over to the drivers side of the car. After an 'all good' from Pony, they left.

The car ride from the high school to their house was only about fifteen minutes as long as there wasn't any heavy traffic. Ponyboy slumped in his seat, trying to find a comfortable place that would ease his stomach and avoid the sunlight for his headache. He rested his head against the ice pack, which he strategically placed between where his head was leaning against the door, the cold comforting the hot.

"I'm sorry for making you leave work, Dar'." He said suddenly, taking his older brother by surprise, who thought he fell asleep.

"Oh, don't worry about that, kiddo. I told you to call me anyway, right?" Darry told him, sparing a glance at him as he drove.

"Yeah, but.."

"But nothing. You're sick, it's alright. I'm not gonna make you camp out in the nurses office all day," He cracked, letting out a chuckle.

He wanted to laugh too, since Darry doesn't normally joke, but he couldn't find the energy in him so he just settled for a smile.

"Close you're eyes, buddy. We'll be home soon."

And so he did.

--

Once they got home, Darry didn't have it in him to wake Pony up from where he was sleeping against the door. He looked like he was somewhat comfortable even though his back must've been in some pain by the way he was lying/sitting. So instead, after grabbing his backpack from the back of the truck and gathering the med bag, he picked him up and carried him into the house, dropping him off in his room as gently as possible. Luckily, he didn't wake but he stirred once he was laying on his bed to get into a comfortable position. Once Darry knew he was good, he retreated to the kitchen and soaked a washcloth with cool water and grabbed a glass of water. Without waking him, he placed it on his head gently, pressing it into his forehead. Pony sighed contently at this and Darry tucked the blankets around him before leaving to go call Soda at work.

After a few moments he answered, and Darry told him all that was going on with Ponyboy. He wanted him to see if he could take off one of his shifts and come home early at three instead of six to help take care of him. Eventually, his boss agreed and

After a few hours of sitting around the house and going back and forth to check on his brother, Darry realized that it was 3:20. He didn't realize the time earlier because he's been trying to busy himself with other things, because he just can't seem to sit still. But, he was kind of enjoying his time off even though this time off was because of his sick brother, who's been sleeping the whole day since he got home. He was able to finish some laundry and clean the kitchen, which was in dire need of a scrubbing down. Ponyboy woke up briefly because he had gone to the bathroom, but luckily he hadn't thrown up yet. Darry was able to give him his medicine, which was a gross-tasting grape flavor that almost did make him throw up. But after downing some water, he was able to go back to sleep and Darry went back to cleaning.

But now, as he took the time to actually look at the clock, he realized that Sodapop should've been home by now. Darry hopes he just went to the pharmacy or something to get some medicine for Pony, but he knows that he typically doesn't have the money on him to buy medicine.

Just as he was about to call the DX again, the front door slammed open and his heart dropped.

Steve stumbled in, already calling out for Darry, half-carrying Soda, who looked like hell. His face was beat up and he could already see bruises forming near his eyes and cheekbones. His lip was split and his eye was slightly swollen. His hair looks as if he just woke up from bed and it was matted with a thin layer of blood, stark against his dark blonde hair.

"What the hell?!" Darry practically shouted, briskly walking over to where Steve was lowering him onto the couch. Sodapop could be heard groaning and covered his face with one of his arms as if the light was an intruder to his eyes.

"Damn socs. He wasn't even twenty feet away when they had him on the ground! I was driving from school for my shift and I had to threaten them with my blade to get them to leave." Steve spat in anger.

"What the hell were they doing out there? This hasn't happened before," Darry said, dropping to his knees next to his brother and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"School just got let out. That's probably why they were looking for action."

"Damnit. Go get some bandages, please." Darry said, practically shooing him off, even though he didn't mean to.

"Soda? Buddy? Can you hear me?" Darry asked, his voice soft as if he was talking to a wounded animal. He ran his hand through Soda's matted hair, cringing when his fingers hit blood. His heart was leaping out of his chest, neither of his brothers, including himself, have ever been jumped as bad as this. How long were they beating him for?

"Mmmmh," Soda groaned, not even bothering to form words. He hardly had any clue what was going on. How was he home already?

"You gotta tell me what hurts, Pepsi," Darry said, using Dad's old ickname as a source of comfort. The family always called him this if he was upset to make him feel better since he was a kid,and old habits die hard.

"Everythin'" He mumbled wrapping his arms around his stomach, as if his ribs were aching. Darry's sure as hell that they did.

"Here, got some other stuff, too." Steve said, coming back from the bathroom and a heap load of supplies in his arms. He had rolls of bandages and alcohol pads, and dropped them off on the coffee table.

"Thanks, Steve," He said softly, his eyes still stuck on Soda, observing his injuries.

"We're gonna patch you up, okay buddy?" Darry said, while Steve sat down next to him and grabbed some supplies from the table. He couldn't tell if Soda responded or not, but if he did it was too quiet to hear.

They started working on him, beginning with his head, cleaning the cut and wrapping it carefully, then moving onto his ribs and making sure none were broken. Luckily, none felt broken, probably just bruised, so they didn't need to be wrapped. He didn't seem to have many cuts, just a ton of bruises, which made Darry feel a little better because they most likely didn't pull a blade on him, because otherwise they would've used it.

After fifteen minutes, Sodapop was all cleaned up and he seemed to be looking the tiniest bit better, although he was practically asleep by now.

"Do you wanna leave him on the couch or take him to bed?" Steve asked once they were done, standing over where he was laying, looking down at him worriedly.

"Uhm, I don't know. Pony's sleeping in there, he's sick." Darry responded.

"He's sick? Shit." Steve said sympathetically, knowing that now he has to take care of both of his brothers. "Well, if I'm being honest, I think they'll both fare better if they're together. I mean, Soda has all his shots, right?"

"Yeah... I guess. Help me take him to bed, will you?"Darry asked and Steve nodded wordlessly. Darry crouched down again and placed his hand onto Soda's head, smoothing his hair down from where it was sticking through the bandage.

"Soda, buddy, we gotta get you to bed." He whispered to him, shaking him slightly.

" 'S it nighttime, Dar'?" He mumbled, his voice soft and confused, although his eyes remained closed.

"Yeah, bud, it is. C'mon," Darry complied, his heart breaking a little more with every word.

"'Kay,'" He replied, and Darry and Steve helped take him to the bedroom, Steve's arm supporting his shoulders and Darry's supporting his waist. They took him into his bedroom, walked him over to his side of the bed and laid him down, making sure he was comfortable under the covers and the curtains were drawn.

"Do you want me to stay the night? I can help out if you need." Steve asked, who walked a little closer to the door after Soda had gotten into bed, giving the brothers some space.

"No, I'll be good. I'll call if I need anything though. Thanks a lot Steve, really." Darry said honestly, and reluctantly, he left, eyeing them worriedly.

All the ruckus woke Ponyboy up and he popped up once he saw his older brother next to him, beat up.

"Soda?" Pony mumbled, awake and looking at his brother with bleary and fever-struck eyes. His voice was soft and gravelly, and tears quickly filled his eyes at the poor sight of him.

Suddenly, his throat hitched and turned a sickly pale hue all at once. Darry knew exactly what was happening before it did, moving at a lightning pace and grabbed the luckily empty trash can and helped his youngest brother sit up all at once, pushing it under his chin just in time before Pony began to cough up vomit. After a good minute, his throwing up subsided to empty gagging and dry heaving. Once he calmed down, Darry pressed the glass of water that was on the nightstand to his lips and Ponyboy instinctively drank from it. His face was twisted in pain when he was settled back into bed and Darry cupped his face, his heart aching for his brothers.

"Shhh, Pony. Go back to sleep. He's fine, everything'll be alright." Darry whispers, stroking his hair back

But looking at the both of them now, it's more like he hopes. This will be a long week.