Would love to hear what you guys think! Enjoy

Soda stirred as he awoke, sensing a chill in the room. Opening his eyes, he noticed Pony shivering in the bed beside him. The younger Curtis was still asleep, but he was curled up and visibly cold. Without a word, Soda instinctively wrapped his arms carefully around his brother, pulling him close for warmth.

It was good to have him home. The hospital had been rough, and it had been hard to see his little brother lying there weak and helpless and hooked up to machines. Now he was back in his own bed, and he was slowly starting to look like himself again. It would take some effort – but it would happen.

Soda had already promised himself that he would be there for him no matter how long it took.

He thought he heard Pony sigh in relief. When he was finally breathing more evenly, Soda decided he wasn't going to be able to sleep anymore and slowly pulled away, making sure Pony got the entire blanket. He stopped in the bathroom to do his business and then made his way down the hall.

Darry was already sitting at the table in his work clothes sipping his morning coffee in silence. He did a double take when he saw his brother patter into the room in sweatpants, eyes half closed and hair every which way.

"Soda? For cryin' out loud, it ain't even 7 in the morning yet – on your day off! What in god's almighty universe has got you outta bed so early?" he paused, realization suddenly dawning on him, "Is Pony all right? Did something happen?"

"Pony's fine," Soda said, waving him off, "Just couldn't sleep anymore. Maybe I'll go back to sleep later."

Darry eyed his brother, then raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't sleep, huh? Everything ok, Soda?" he asked.

Soda let out a half-hearted laugh, running a hand through his ungreased mane, "Yeah, just restless. No big deal," he replied, trying to brush off the unease in his brother's gaze. "Too much time in the hospital in uncomfortable plastic chairs," he joked.

Darry nodded and dropped the subject.

"Did you make breakfast?" Soda asked.

"Not yet, but I was just going to grab something quick," Darry sighed, and Soda suddenly realized how exhausted his older brother was. Darry had always been the one awake making sure everyone else was getting enough sleep – especially Pony. He was also the one with the most physically demanding job and the one that had to worry about the bills.

"If you can stick around a bit longer, I'll make you some eggs. You like 'em with bacon and tomato, right?" Soda asked.

Darry's lips curled upwards in gratitude, "Thanks Sodapop."

Darry stayed for the bacon and eggs and Soda made a plate for him and one for himself.

"No green pancakes today?"

Soda smacked his forehead. "Now that's what I should have done for breakfast!" Darry realized he was dead serious. Soda chuckled, then patted his older brother's shoulder. "No time. I'll make them after you go to work. Pony'll like that."

"You sure about that?" Darry grinned as he cocked an eyebrow.

"I'll make it work," Soda answered confidently.

As they gulped down their bacon and eggs, Darry made Soda promise that he was going to take it easy with Pony, even if Two-Bit and Steve came over later in the day. They went over the times Pony needed to take his antibiotics and when he should take painkillers. Soda assured him repeatedly that everything would be fine.

"How late you working tonight, Dar?" Soda asked, knowing his older brother would overwork himself.

"Well, I need to pull in a few extra hours," Darry answered like Soda knew he would, "We got bills to pay. I'll try to be home before 8," he added, "But you don't have to worry about that."

"I'm working full days all next week, Darry," Soda said, "You know, don't – don't work yourself to death."

This time Darry was the one to assure his brother he was fine.

After Darry left, Soda decided it was high time for his no-holds barred pancake experiment. He rustled up the ingredients, feeling like a fool when he realized he was humming The Beatles' "Twist and Shout" instead of Elvis. Elvis, now he's the real deal, Soda told himself. He was grateful that Steve and Two-Bit weren't around to catch him singing The Beatles.

With a gleam in his eyes, Soda mixed the pancake batter and reached for a couple tiny bottles of vibrant food coloring – red, green, purple, and blue. He took four different bowls, and poured the pancake batter into each, adding drops of food coloring into each. Soda couldn't help but grin. This was going to be a masterpiece!

Before he poured each bowl into the hot griddle, he decided he would go check on his baby brother. Pony was still out like a light. Little did Soda know that wouldn't last long.


He wandered the hospital corridors – the once familiar walls now twisting and warping like surreal dreamscapes. Surroundings morphed into a confusing maze and the faces of doctors and nurses blurred. They were unrecognizable.

He couldn't remember anymore. Entering a room that should have held memories, everything was strangely empty. Medical charts on the walls turned into unreadable scribbles.

A doctor approached him – his features strangely hidden – and Pony couldn't recall any details. His face was slowly fading, like an old photograph. Pony strained to remember his name. Why couldn't he remember anyone's name?

The hospital room felt unfamiliar, and the machines beeped erratically. He was disoriented and unsettled. His heart beat faster. He tried to remember.

In this dreamlike state, he reached out to touch a memory, only to have it dissipate like mist. Each step echoed with the haunting reminder of forgotten memories.

His footsteps echoed through the hospital corridor, the walls closing in on him like a living nightmare. The once familiar surroundings twisted and morphed, a disorienting dance that let him stumble through a maze of confusion. The faces of doctors and nurses passed by, their features blending into an indistinct blur.

Ponyboy entered a hospital room – one that felt strangely cold and empty. The medical charts on the walls transformed into indecipherable scribbles. Pony strained to grasp any fragment of familiarity. The air seemed thick with the weight of forgotten moments.

A figure approached, a doctor perhaps, but his features were shrouded in unsettling shadow. Pony couldn't make out any details and the face slowly faded, like a forgotten dream slipping away. Panic set in. Pony struggled to recall a single name, but memory remained elusive.

The room became a bizarre scene. Machines beeped erratically. The unfamiliarity of the surroundings intensified. Pony was disoriented. He clutched at his temples, trying to make sense of the chaos.

A silhouette appeared in a corner of the room – a figure that seemed hauntingly familiar yet obscured by the haze. It could have been Darry, or maybe Sodapop, but Pony couldn't be sure. The uncertainty gnawed at him, adding to the terror.

As he moved further into the room, the haunting echoes of voices surrounded him. Familiar tones filled the air, but the words were garbled and incomprehensible. It was as if the people he longed to recognize were just beyond reach, their identities obscured by the thick fog of forgotten recollections.

His heart raced – a rhythm the matched the pounding of his temples. The dreamlike state intensified. Each step was a painful reminder of memories slipping through his fingers like sand, leaving a nightmarish limbo between the known and unknown.

The voices grew louder.

He screamed.


Soda, who had been engrossed in flipping his colorful pancakes in the kitchen, suddenly paused when he thought he heard a faint noise coming from the hallway. Setting down the spatula, he cocked his head, senses on high alert. And then he heard his brother yell.

Without hesitation, he moved swiftly down the hallway towards Pony's room, following the echoes of distress. Soda's quick steps brought him to Pony's bedroom door, where he found it slightly ajar. Pushing it open, he discovered Ponyboy sitting upright in bed, his eyes wide and haunted, as if he'd been startled awake. The sheets clung to him, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, evidence of the intensity of being jolted from sleep. His palms flat on the bed, he tried to catch his breath. It came in rapid, uneven gasps and his gaze met Soda's with a mix of relief and apprehension.

Without a second thought, Soda sat on the edge of the bed between Pony and the window. Facing the door, he slung his arm around his brother's shoulders. Pony immediately buried his face in his brother's chest as Soda pulled him close. "Honey…what happened?" Soda asked, welcoming the embrace. "Bad dream?"

Pony was trembling.

"Easy, Pony. I'm right here," he reassured his brother, stroking his back, his shoulders, the back of his head.

Eventually Pony felt himself being anchored back to reality and moved his head away, his eyes still lingering with fear. Soda kept him close to his side.

"You remember it?" Soda coaxed, "You wanna tell me what happened?"

Pony hesitated, the remnants of the dream still casting shadows in his eyes, "I…I don't remember much. It's all blurry," he said, looking up at his big brother.

"That's alright. Take your time," Soda reassured. They sat in silence for a moment.

"I was walking through the hospital," Pony began, "It was like a maze. I couldn't really see anything. It was foggy. There were doctors and nurses. But I could never see their faces. And I walked into a hospital room and there was a shadow there. But I couldn't recognize him. It was like – I couldn't remember him. I couldn't see his face." Pony's voice cracked on the last word.

Soda immediately knew that the dream had to do with Pony worrying about his memory loss. But he didn't say it out loud. Pony leaned into Soda and Soda pulled him close again. Another hand gently patted the blanket Pony held to his chest. Soda tightened his embrace, his voice a gentle murmur against Pony's ear.

"It's just a dream, Pone. Dreams can mess with your head, make things seem all jumbled up," he soothed, "But you're here with me, so there's nothing to worry about, all right?" He continued to stroke Pony's back, his touch offering a silent promise that they'd face whatever was troubling him.

After a while, Pony let out a shaky breath. "Thanks, Soda. I don't know what's going on in my head lately," he sighed,

Soda squeezed his brother's shoulder reassuringly. "We'll figure it out, Pone."

Pony eventually pulled away. "What time is it?" he asked, "Darry already go to work?"

"It's early," Soda answered, "Too early. I was gonna go back to sleep, but I decided I'd whip up something special for you in the kitchen this morning."

"Special?" Pony looked up, trying not to roll his eyes, "Last time you said that we had blue bacon and glow-in-the-dark waffles."

"Oh yeah!" Soda grinned, remembering, "I knew that black light would be put to good use. You hungry?" he asked his brother.

"What did you make this time?" Pony asked.

"You'll have to wait and see," he grinned mischievously, "Trust me, it's a masterpiece. I actually haven't finished yet. Give me a few minutes and I'll bring you a plate."

Pony managed a small grin at Soda's enthusiasm. "Sure, Soda. Thanks," he replied.

"You got it, little buddy," Soda said with a wink and gave Pony's shoulder one final reassuring squeeze before getting up from the bed. He headed back to the kitchen, hoping the colorful breakfast would bring a much-needed smile to Pony's face.

Soon Pony heard the sounds of something sizzling on the stove. As Soda bustled in the kitchen, Pony leaned back against the headboard, a small smile on his lips as he thought about what Soda would make next. He lifted his head to the ceiling, trying to see if he could smell it.

Just as he adjusted himself on the bed, a sharp pain shot through his lower back, causing him to flinch and gasp. It continued, the pain waves pulsating through him like a relentless winced, clutching the blanket tightly against the sudden throbbing and one hand went to his back. The back spasm caught him off guard, a reminder of the toll the illness had recently taken on his body.

In the kitchen, Soda was busy flipping pancakes, completely unaware of Pony's silent struggle. Determined not to worry his brother, Pony took a deep breath, willing the pain to subside. He straightened up as best he could, trying to shake off the ache that lingered.

After a few more minutes, Soda arranged a colorful array of pancakes on a plate, added a generous drizzle of syrup, put it on a tray with orange and milk, and carried it with a triumphant grin back to his and Pony's room.

"Breakfast is served!" Soda announced, holding the tray in front of himself like a culinary trophy. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he presented the feast to Pony – a plate piled with pancakes in a rainbow of colors. Some of the colors had obviously been mixed together and looked almost black.

Pony managed a weak smile, but his appetite was gone because of the back pain. Still, he appreciated Soda's efforts to bring cheer to his morning.

"Soda," he swallowed, looking a little green, "You outdid yourself again."

As Soda settled the tray on his brother's lap, his eyes caught a flicker of discomfort on his brother's face, "Everything ok, Pone? You're not nauseous, are you?"

Pony quickly masked his pain with a casual shrug, "Just a little stiff from laying down, I guess."

Soda raised an eyebrow but decided not to press. "Well, eat up and let me know what you think of my breakfast masterpiece! Got more surprises in there than you'd believe."

Pony chuckled, grateful for his brother's distraction. He took a bite of blue, savoring the strange burst of flavors. Sure, he liked pancakes, but the food coloring gave it an overtly sugary taste.

As Soda watched him with a satisfied grin, Pony couldn't help but feel a warm reassurance in his brother's presence, even as he concealed the ache in his back.

Soda nudged the glass of orange juice closer to his brother. "Drink up," he said with a lopsided grin, "Darry made me promise to give you orange juice – lots of Vitamin C and all that good stuff."

Pony raised an eyebrow, eyeing the glass skeptically, "Orange juice AND milk?" he emphasized, puzzled by the combination.

Soda beamed, "Calcium!" he blurted out, pointing at the glass as if he had won some big money prize for knowing the right answer.

"Hey, it's a balanced breakfast," he added, "Gotta keep you healthy and strong, kiddo."

Pony sighed but took a sip of orange juice, deciding if anyone could make all this work, it was probably Sodapop.

After working his way through half the meal, Soda noticed that Pony looked exhausted again, even though he hadn't been doing much. They put the food and drink to the side.

As Pony forced a smile, trying to hide it, Soda noticed his brother's discomfort and decided he would take the lead.

"You know, Pone, I was thinking," Soda said, trying to sound casual as he climbed into his spot on the bed next to his brother, "I woke up way too early and I bet you could use some rest, too. How about we catch a little more sleep before the day really starts."

Pony actually felt a wave of relief at Soda's suggestion. "Yea, I am still a little bit tired," he sighed, "Maybe we both need a little more sleep."

Soda grinned, relieved that Pony seemed to agree. "Well, shoot, Pone, I was thinking the same thing. I got up way too early – and it seems like you could use some more rest. How 'bout we go back to sleep and give morning another shot a bit later? I'll set an alarm, so we don't miss out on the whole day."

Pony gaped, "You? Set an alarm?" he exclaimed.

"You're right," Soda laughed, smacking himself across the forehead, "What was I thinking?! Thanks for setting me straight."

Pony couldn't help but return Soda's grin. With a playful salute, Soda went to turn off the lights and the two brothers settled back into bed and closed their eyes. Soda, of course, made sure that Pony was asleep first.

When he was sure that Pony was breathing lightly, Soda threw an arm across his neck and went to sleep.


The boys woke up around 10 and Pony took his antibiotics. Darry called around 11, while Pony was in the shower.

Soda picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey Soda. How's it going? How's Pony doin'?"

"He's ok. Even ate some of the pancakes I gave him!" Soda replied, proud of himself.

"You made pancakes?"

"Yesiree. They come in all shapes and colors," he chuckled, half-thinking he heard Darry groaning on the other end and maybe rolling his eyes.

"I don't even want to know what kind of mess you left in the kitchen. It better be gone before I get home," Darry warned. "So you got things under control?"

"Pretty much," Soda said, lowering his voice a bit, "Except…"

"Except what?"

Soda didn't know how to start. "Pony had a nightmare this morning. It wasn't too bad. Just spooked him a little."

"Did he tell you what it was about?"

"Yeah, said he was in the hospital…tryin' to find his way. Couldn't recognize anybody,"

"Sounds like he's worried 'bout forgettin' things," Darry said.

"That's exactly it," Soda replied.

"Where is he now?"

"He's in the shower," Soda answered.

"In the shower! Soda, the phone isn't anywhere near the shower. You gotta stay close in case he falls or needs anything. You know he ain't 100% yet!"

"Darry, you're the one that called!" Soda shot back.

"Yeah, alright, I gotta get back anyway. Call me if you need anything. And watch him," he warned.

"I will,"


Pony's fingers tapped anxiously as Sodapop shuffled the deck.

Sodapop glanced at Ponyboy across the table with a reassuring smile. Pony's eyes were fixed on the cards as Sodapop placed the deck face up.

"Now before I deal the cards, we're gonna talk about sets and runs. A set is three cards of the same number," Sodapop took three Aces and put them to the side.

"Like three of a kind?" Pony asked, remembering what Soda told him the night before.

Soda beamed, "Right."

"And a run is three numbers or more in a row of the same suit," Ponyboy took an Ace of Clubs, King of Clubs, and Queen of Clubs, and put them to the side.

Soda nodded, "Exactly," he said. He grabbed the cards and began shuffling them again, "Now to start the round the dealer – that's me – will deal ten cards to each player. But since you're to my left, you get eleven," he explained.

"Oh yeah! I remember that!" Pony exclaimed, "Ain't we supposed to hide our cards from the other players?" he asked as Soda flipped the cards over.

"Yeah, but for teachin' purposes, we'll show both our hands. Now look at your cards. See what combinations you can make," Soda said.

Pony looked at his hand. He got excited immediately as he noticed he had a Queen of clubs, Jack of clubs, and 10 of clubs that he could put together. "I have a run!" he exclaimed.

"Nice job, kid," Sodapop grinned.

"What do I do now?" Pony asked, "Should I put the run down?"

"Nah, you have to wait until everythin' in your hand is either a set or a run," he said, "You also need to discard the card you don't want – since you have eleven cards."

Ponyboy thought for a second, then placed the three of Spades in the discard pile.

"Great!" Soda said, "Now let's look at my hand," he rearranged his cards, "Since I think the three of Spades IS useful, I'll pick it up." He picked it up and put a seven of spades in the discard pile.

Ponyboy looked at the seven of spades. He realized it wouldn't fit his hand. "I don't think I want that,"

"Go ahead and draw then," Soda replied.

Pony drew a two of hearts. That wasn't useful at all. He put the card in the discard pile. "Good," Soda nodded in approval.

They continued to draw and pick up cards. Slowly, everything began to make sense. Pony even remembered the rules. After some 15 minutes of silent game play, Soda spoke again.

"Now I've got gin, which means that every card in my hand has either a set or a run, including the discard. To go down, I'm going to place my discard face down on the discard pile and present you my hand."

"Ponyboy looked at Sodapop's hand. It contained a King, Queen, Jack, ten of diamonds, a set of eights, and a set of threes.

"Let's look at your hand," he told Pony.

Pony looked down at his hand in disappointment. Despite all his efforts, he'd only managed the run he had at the beginning of the round.

Sodapop looked at Pony's cards, "The cards that you have that aren't a set or a run count against you. The ace is 15 points, the King would be 10 points, and the rest of the hand is 5 points. You have 45 points this round."

Pony sighed in frustration, "Aw, man, I didn't do that great."

Soda looked up, his eyes reflecting understanding, "It's all right, buddy. Just takes some practice. You'll get the hang of it again in no time, kiddo."

Pony's gaze shifted between the discard pile and the deck, indecision weighing heavily in his eyes. He thought back to when he was 7-years old and his 9-year-pld brother had first taught him how to play gin rummy.

The living room bathed in warm hues, Ponyboy and Sodapop sat on the floor, huddled over the deck of air resonated with their laughter.

Soda grinned as usual, "Remember, Pony, it's all about strategy. You gotta read the cards and play smart."

Pony shook off the memory. Soda was saying something.

"Pony, you with me? Remember, it's not just about the cards, it's about staying a step ahead of the guy you're playing."

Pony looked at him, "I used to be good at this, right?"

Soda nodded, a reassuring smile lighting up his face. "The best!" he crooned, "You just need a little practice. Remember, you pick up a card, then discard one.

Pony's gaze shifted to the cards on the table, his frustration evident.

He frowned, "It's all still a bit fuzzy. I feel like I should remember but…"

"It's ok," Soda said, giving him a supportive glance. "You'll get it eventually."

Pony had a harder time this time around. As he continued to play, the frustration lines deepened on his forehead. He felt like an old man who was slowly going senile. He squinted at the cards, trying to decipher the patterns that once seemed so clear.

Soda offered some encouragement, "Take your time, Pony. It's like riding a bike. It'll come back to you."

Pony sighed, his gaze fixed on the cards in his hand. "I used to know this like the back of my hand."

Soda nodded sympathetically. "Hey, I get it. It's tricky. But look at you, you're making progress. No rush, kiddo."

Pony took a deep breath. He tentatively picked up a card, his expression mixed with determination and uncertainty, "I'll go with the five of spades."

The hesitation returned as he surveyed his hand. "Ten of diamonds?"

"Good decision. You're doing better than you think. Just takes some practice," Soda coached.

"Why is it so hard now?" Pony asked aloud.

Soda, determined to lighten the mood, couldn't resist the opportunity to inject some humor. He flashed a grin like he was up to something. "Well, there's always the option to…bend the rules a little. Get creative," he looked at his brother out of the corner of his eye and flashed a grin, "Make the game a little more…flexible. What do you say, Pone? Ready to see the invisible card switch? Just blink real fast, and no one will notice!"

Pony watched his brother with a raised eyebrow. Amusement and skepticism glinted in his eyes. He couldn't help but chuckle as Soda demonstrated the invisible card switch and Pony played along. He focused intently on the cards, fully aware of the showy nature of the move. As Soda blinked rapidly, attempting to make a card disappear and reappear, Pony couldn't contain his laughter.

"Ta-da! Mission to switch complete!" Soda announced, grinning proudly.

Pony's eyes widened, then he shook his head in mock disbelief. "That's rich," he quipped. "Come on, Soda. Cheating?"

Soda winked, a playful glint in his eyes. "Gotta keep it interesting, Pone," he said, "Cheat move number 2: The reverse psychology bluff. Act like you have no idea what you're doing and the other players will be so confused, they'll let you win!"

Pony chuckled, "So I pretend to be clueless? Shoot, that ain't so much of an act right now."

He was amused, but there was some truth in his tone.

"Exactly! Confuse them with your confusion. Baffle them with your baffle…ment!" Pony rolled his eyes, but he laughed harder.

"Cheat move number 4. I like to hide a card in my shoe – YOU can hide snacks in your hand. It's the ultimate distraction!"

"So that's where Two-Bit learned to do that!"

"Nah…Two-Bit just likes snacks. But THIS…THIS is a game-changer!"

Soda was on a roll, and he loved hearing his brother laugh, "Here's one more!. The poker face. Convince everyone you've got the best hand, even if you don't know what game you're playing!"

Pony burst into laughter. "I'll give it a shot!" he chuckled.

As Pony grappled with the rules, Soda continued to suggest his outrageous cheat moves that had his baby brother in stitches. But gradually as the back and forth continued, Soda noticed that Pony was looking more and more tired. Pony, for his part, started to feel a subtle ache creeping up along his spine and in the back of his head. Eventually, his smile became strained and he winced.

Soda stopped talking. He looked at his brother with concern.

"Ponyboy, you doing ok?"

Pony blinked, trying to shake off the increasing fuzziness in his thoughts. That didn't help. He flinched as his hand went up to the side without the staples, to massage his throbbing temple. "Just a headache," he said quickly, "It's nothing."

Soda didn't buy it. "Let's take a break, Pone. No need to push it," he said.

Reluctantly, Pony agreed, setting aside the cards. "Yeah, maybe a break," he whispered, as the fatigue washed over him.

"Feelin' bad?" Soda asked, leaning across the table with concern.

"Dizzy," Pony replied. His head was spinning. Soda saw it and wondered if he would have to catch him. "Maybe I should – lie down," he finished.

"Yeah, sounds like a good idea to me," Soda responded, getting up, "Need some help getting back to our room?" he asked.

"Can't I just lie on the couch?" Pony asked.

"Sure," Soda said, "I'll take you over there."

Pony mustered a weak smile, appreciating Soda's support. His movements were sluggish, but together, they navigated to the couch and Pony sank into its cushions, closing his eyes in an attempt to alleviate the dizziness. The room seemed to tilt further, and he took slow, steady breaths.

His eyes snapped open when he heard Soda's voice.

"Ron said to take your painkillers if you're feeling bad," he said aloud, "Let me get you some. Then you can rest."

"Ok," Pony whispered.

Soda got the painkillers and a glass of water and gave it to Pony before he laid down. He felt jittery as Pony took the medicine but wasn't sure what else he could do.

When he noticed that Pony looked nauseous, he patted his knee. "Maybe we should call Darry?"

Pony shook his head, even though the movement was good for the nausea. "I'm fine," he said.

"You sure, Pony?"

Pony managed a weak nod, trying to downplay his situation, "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks Soda," he choked out.

"Alright, but if it doesn't get any better, we're calling Darry," he said, "No arguments, you dig?"

The dizziness seemed to get better, but the headache didn't. There was also a pain creeping up behind his eyes. Finishing the water, he handed it back to Soda. "I just need to – rest for a bit," he said.

"Sure thing, kiddo," Soda replied.

Pony curled up on the couch and closed his eyes. Unfortunately, this made the pain in his head and behind his eyes intensify, a throbbing ache that made him feel stifled and uncomfortable.

He heard Soda walking back and forth and he wasn't asleep yet when he felt the cool compress on his forehead. Pony couldn't believe it. It's like his brother was a mind reader. Reaching up lazily to keep the compress over his lids, he quietly thanked Soda as he felt his brother's weight push the cushion down at the other end of the couch.

As he lay there, he sensed Soda gently lifting his feet and placing them in his lap. The gesture surprisingly made him feel more relaxed and comforted.

The room continued to spin, but it eventually subsided as the painkillers kicked in and he drifted off into much needed sleep.


Soda waited for a while, but it was hard for him to sit still. After about 10 minutes he gently lifted Pony's feet off him and went to go make sandwiches for lunch. He slapped together a turkey sandwich for himself and one for Pony for later, ate it, and then went back to the couch, turning on the TV at low volume.

About an hour later, the front door creaked open and a familiar face stuck his head in.

"Anybody home?" Two-Bit called.

Soda, who had been dozing on the couch near Pony's feet, heard him and was about to say, "Don't slam the –"

Too late!

The screen door slammed behind Two-Bit and Steve as they stomped in, trying to get the snow off their boots. Pony's eyes snapped open, his body jolting upwards from the couch. The room spun for a moment, and he flinched at the ache in his back from the sudden movement.

Cold air seeped in through the momentarily open door.

Soda stood up, shooting them a glare. "You two mind not bustin' in like the fuzz is after ya? Pony here was tryin' to sleep."

Two-Bit's mouth turned up, "Shoot, if the fuzz were after me, I'd offer 'em a seat and a cold pop, ain't that right Ponyboy?" he asked, leaning over and giving Pony's shoulder a squeeze as a way of saying he was sorry.

Pony rubbed at his temples, wincing at the ache, "Glory, what time is it?"

Steve stepped into the house, "It's after 4, kid. School let out a while ago. Can't have y'all sleepin' all day," It sounded like he was taunting them, but he looked down at Pony like he was concerned.

Soda couldn't stay mad for long. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Pony wasn't feelin' too hot," he mumbled.

Pony's went red. It was only Steve and Two-Bit, but he felt stupid and babyish.

"It ain't a big deal," Pony said, sounding irritated. Soda threw an arm around his shoulders good naturedly.

"What you got in your fridge?" Two-Bit asked but sauntered off to hunt up some chocolate cake in the icebox, before either Curtis could come up with a response.

"You ok, Pone?" Soda whispered, trying not to make it a big deal.

"Yeah," he sighed, "Just tired."

"Just take it easy," Soda said, getting up, "Let me go get you a glass of water."

Steve sunk down into the armchair by the door. He eyed Pony with a smirk. "Shoot, kid, you need some caffeine in your IV or somethin'."

"You look like a Monday morning after a long weekend," Two-Bit threw in loudly from the kitchen. He cackled like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"Aw, lay off," Soda told them, overhearing as he walked back in from the kitchen. Pony took the glass and gulped it down.

Two-Bit came back with a giant slice of chocolate cake on a plate and a bottle of cold brew. He went to sit on the floor. No one moved to turn the tv on.

"How 'bout leavin' some for the rest of us?" Steve quipped.

"Shoot, if I did that y'all would die of shock," Two-Bit retorted, his mouth full of chocolate cake.

Steve rolled his eyes and leaned forward, an amused look in his eyes, "Hey Soda," he began, a grin spreading across his face, "There's a poker game at Buck's tonight. You in?"

Soda paused, looking at Pony, wondering what the right decision should be. He was itchin' to get out – plus they needed the money. But Pony had just come home, and he was nowhere near 100% yet. Maybe he needed to stay home for his brother.

Buck's was all stale smoke and beer-soaked girls and Hank Williams, but it was always a rowdy good time. The day with Pony had been nice, but – who was he kidding? Soda couldn't sit still to save his life. It was easy when he thought his brother's life was in danger, but now? Pony was doing ok, right?

And feeling restless – well that was an itch Sodapop Curtis needed to scratch.

Soda looked back at his baby brother, still feeling a twinge of guilt. "Whaddya think, Pone?" he asked.

Ponyboy locked eyes with Steve, whose tight-lipped expression signaled to him to let his brother go. He looked back at Sodapop. He knew his brother maybe even better than he knew himself. And he knew he desperately wanted to go, but he would never leave if Pony said he needed him.

Pony, though still feeling weak, managed a half-smile, attempting to reassure his brother. "Darry could use the cash, right?" he quipped.

"Got that right, kid," Steve said from the other side of the room.

Soda's expression softened, and he looked at Pony with a mix of gratitude and hesitation. "You sure, Pone? I mean, you just got back and I don't want to leave you alone if you're not up for it."

"He won't be alone," Two-Bit spoke up, "He's got his ol' pal Two-Bit here to baby-sit."

"Great," Pony mumbled under his breath. In the past, he would have taken a swing at him, and it would have ended up in a wrestling match on the floor, but he wasn't feeling up to it. Two-Bit just beamed at him goofily.

Pony shrugged, masking his internal struggle, "I'm fine, Soda. Go have some fun. Darry could use the money and I'll be alright. Two-Bit's here and Darry'll get home in a couple hours."

After making spaghetti and meatballs and adding to plates to the oven for Darry and Pony, Soda and Steve left around 7, even though the poker game wouldn't start until at least 9. They were whoopin' and hollerin' and leapin' and practically doing somersaults in mid-air like they were going to a rumble. It was then that Pony knew he'd done the right thing not laying a guilt trip on Soda for leaving.

Two-Bit tried to get Pony to watch an episode of The Twilight Zone with him, but Pony still wasn't feelin' that great and fell asleep, his face turned towards the couch. Darry stepped in about 30 minutes later

"Hey Darry," Two-Bit called out from the armchair on the other side of the room, "There's a plate in the oven for you."

"Thanks, Two-Bit," he said, "Where is everybody?" Two-Bit curved his finger and silently pointed to Pony on the couch and then put the finger to his lips.

Darry went down the hall to put his tool belt away. "Where's Soda?" he asked when he came back.

"He went to a poker game with Steve down at Buck's," Two-Bit answered, waiting for Darry to react. Surprisingly, he didn't. Darry wasn't a fan of Buck's because a lot of the people who hung out there were rough – even worse than Greasers. And the cops were called pretty often. But he knew his middle brother and he knew Soda probably had to let off some steam after everything that'd been going on. He just prayed that steam wouldn't show up on a police record.

"Did he eat?" Darry asked, looking down at the kid.

"Not yet. I did," Two-Bit said proudly, "He's been sleepin' on and off since we got here."

"Is he ok?" Darry asked, concerned.

"I don't know," Two-Bit replied, "Soda said they were playing gin rummy this afternoon but then he got tired so he let him sleep. He woke up a couple of times, but hasn't really moved from the couch."

Darry hoped it didn't mean anything. Ron did say Pony would need a lot of rest. A little later, Darry woke Pony up to eat dinner. He picked at it, expressing the fact that he was still a little nauseous, but he ate enough that Darry was satisfied when he decided to push the plate away. Two-Bit ate the rest. Darry ate his own plate in the armchair – not something he was accustomed to but he didn't want to make Pony worried about moving to the table, as he was still looking mighty tired. Pony told Darry bits and pieces about his day with Soda and that they went to Buck's to join a game. There wasn't much to tell since Pony had slept more than half the day away. He felt like a waste. After dinner, he dozed off again, but he couldn't help it.

"I never saw a kid sleep so much," Two-Bit noted aloud.

"He needs it," Darry replied.


"Pony…" someone was calling. A gentle hand shook his shoulder, and he wished he'd stop, "Pony, wake up…"

His eyes fluttered open, but he was still in darkness, his face pressed against the couch cushion.A moment later, he turned over, blinking rapidly. The lights were bright. He looked up and Darry's face slowly came into focus.

"Come on, Pone, let's go to bed now," Darry said, carefully helping his brother up.

What time was it? Two-Bit had obviously gone home. But it didn't look like Darry had called it a night. And Soda wasn't back from his poker game.

"Where's Soda?" Pony asked sleepily.

"He's still at the game," Darry said as he threw an arm around his brother's shoulders and lifted him to a standing position. As they went down the hallway together, Darry could feel the shivers running through him.

Pony was drained. Even with Darry's support, he stumbled slightly, his balance not fully restored. Darry observed these signs of lingering weakness and even noticed the tremor in Pony's hands.

"I slept all day and I'm still tired," Pony slurred, as Darry half-carried him to the room. It wasn't hard – Pony had lost some weight – but it was sad to see that the illness was still taking its toll.

"That's alright," Darry said as he poured his brother into the bed. "You'll feel better tomorrow."

Pony turned to his left side on the bed, facing the window, and the staples on the right side of his bed were starkly visible, almost protruding. He barely took up half the bed and Soda's absence was felt.

"Darry…" Pony's drowsy gaze met his older brother's, and he let out a quiet sigh, "Is Soda gonna be ok?"

"What do you mean?" Darry asked, confused, "Soda's a big boy."

"You don't like Buck's…" Pony murmured.

"Soda can take care of himself. And he's got Steve with him. He'll be fine." He wondered if Pony knew something he didn't.

"It feels different that Soda's not here," Pony blurted out.

"Ahhh, so that's why you're asking me about him," Darry realized. He wasn't offended. Just feeling a little guilty that he couldn't give Pony what he needed at the moment, which was Soda.

"He'll be back soon," he said, starting to rub Pony's back, "In the meantime, you got me here, kiddo. That alright?" he asked.

"Mhmm," Pony gave him a half smile, the heaviness evident in his eyes. "Can you – "he trailed off. "I mean – "He didn't know how to say it without feeling embarrassed.

"What, Pone?"

"Can you stay with me for a minute? Just until I fall asleep?" he asked

"Sure, I can," Darry smiled down at his brother. He pulled Pony's blanket up and placed a palm on his sternum, feeling the breastbone beneath his hand as he moved it up and down gently.

Sleep was pulling him down again and Pony couldn't resist, even as he heard Soda's voice in the background, obviously home early from the game. He mumbled something and Darry answered back, but it didn't matter.

Ponyboy felt safe, comforted by the familiar presence of his brothers.

Reviews please!