A/N: Thank you guys sooo much for the reviews! I'm so glad you all are loving this story. I'm really enjoying writing it and am so glad you guys are enjoying it too. Here's part V. I hope you guys like it. Please review and let me know what you think. Love, Ellivia22

A/N: I'd like to thank Kayla Blanton for finding my typo in my last chapter. You are correct. Darry's birthday is 1/5/45 not 55. Thanks for catching that and letting me know. I appreciate it :)

Disclaimer: I unfortunately don't own The Outsiders

I Need You

Part V

Ponyboy

A typical weekday in the Curtis household usually began around six thirty in the morning. The first person to get up, usually Darry, would make breakfast. The other two would do the dishes. Darry and Sodapop would leave for work around 7:15 and Two-Bit would come by at 7:30 to give me a ride to school. This morning's routine, however, was anything but normal.

Despite all my best efforts, I couldn't fall back asleep after seeing Darry in the kitchen. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't get his worried expression out of my head. All this time I thought Darry was hard and cold toward me because he resented taking care of me. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that perhaps I didn't know what Darry was going through like I thought I did.

By the time six o'clock rolled around, I had given up on sleep. Careful not to wake Sodapop I snuck out of the bedroom. Once again, I headed to the kitchen, but not for a glass of milk this time.

The kitchen was deserted when I entered, meaning that Darry went back to bed. I was glad. He needed his rest. After flipping on the switch, I opened the small drawer under the counter next to the refrigerator. A stack of papers was in the drawer with Darry's name on them. I grabbed them and placed them on the counter.

The first pieces of paper weren't that surprising. Mortgage, electricity, and water. All were necessary to take care of a home. What did surprise me was how high the dollar amounts were. Then I saw bills for car insurance, gas receipts for the truck, and receipts for groceries. I tried to keep track of the amounts in my head, but lost track the higher it got. The more bills I looked at, the more stressed out I became. How could we afford to pay for all of this? No wonder Darry was so stressed out all the time; no wonder he thought the best option was to get a third job.

I swallowed hard. Maybe it wasn't Darry who had been too hard on me…maybe…maybe I had been making things harder on him because I didn't understand. Still, he had no right to always take out his frustrations at me and holler at me all the time. He had no right to hit me.

I heard movement in the house. Somebody was up. Quickly I put the bills back in the drawer. Then I grabbed the pan from the cabinet under the sink and placed it on the stove. It was time I did my part and helped out my brothers who worked so hard.

As I cooked breakfast my mind began to wander. I wasn't ready to talk to Darry yet. Not until he apologized for hurting me, but I wasn't nearly as angry as I was before. Maybe in time, I would forgive him, and things would go back to normal.

I had just loaded Darry's plate with his usual egg, bacon, and tomato sandwich and turned off the stove when I heard loud, angry voices coming from the hallway. It sounded like Sodapop and Darry. I had never heard Sodapop sound so angry before. It was even stranger that he was fighting with Darry. They rarely argued, except when Sodapop stuck up for me. I crept out of the kitchen and into the dining room to hear what was going on.

"You can't be serious," Sodapop said angrily. He was standing outside the bathroom door, his arms folded. He hadn't yet changed into his work clothes and his blonde hair was still messy from sleep. "How could you possibly think about going to work after what happened yesterday?!"

"This ain't up for discussion," Darry responded, his tone as sharp as Two-Bit's blade. He was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, shaving. He was already dressed in his jeans and white men's tank top he wore for work. His dark hair was damp from the shower. Even from a distance, I could see how worn out he was. His face was still pale and heavy bags were under his eyes, which seemed to have trouble focusing. I noticed his shoulders were slumped as if he was carrying two bundles of ruffin. The thing that made me most nervous was that he was struggling to keep the hand that was clutching the razor steady. If he wasn't careful, he was going to cut his throat. "I'm going to work and that's final."

Sodapop glared at him. "We appreciate how hard you've been workin', but you haven' had a day off since you started this new job. You're pushin' yourself way too hard and you know it!"

You tell him, Soda I thought to myself.

"I gotta do what is necessary to take care of you both," Darry said, putting his razor away. He wiped his face with the hand towel to remove the excess shaving cream.

"And how do you think Pony and I would feel if somethin' happened to you, and you ended back in the hospital?! Or worse?!"

Darry said something under his breath in response, but I didn't hear him. Sodapop's words rang horribly in my ears. My heart pounded hard in my chest in anxiety. Hospital? Darry was in the hospital?! Why? When? Why didn't anybody tell me?!

"That ain't true and you know it," Sodapop snapped. "Stop bein' so stubborn and-." He stopped in mid-sentence when he noticed me standing there. The anger dissolved from his tone almost immediately. "'Mornin' kiddo. Did you sleep okay?"

I snapped out of my daze and closed my mouth, which had been gaping open for the past few seconds. I was still in complete shock over what I just learned. "I…I made breakfast." I stammered, my eyes not leaving Darry.

My oldest brother turned off the bathroom light and moved past me. He didn't look at me, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. Seeing him up close terrified me. He looked as though he had aged ten years and was beaten down. His body was trembling. He looked like he was on the verge of collapse.

"Darry," I said suddenly. He stopped in front of his armchair, where his grey work shirt was. I swallowed the large lump in my throat. "Darry, Soda's right. Please…please take the day off. You need it."

Darry looked at me for the first time since our fight. The expression on his face was of surprise, but I was shocked to see that his ice-blue eyes didn't look hard and cold like normal. Instead, they looked…sad. After a moment, he looked back at Sodapop and then at me again.

Slowly he pulled out the truck keys from his pocket and placed them on the coffee table. "All right," he said reluctantly. "But just for today."

Sodapop grinned for the first time all morning. "All right! Now that that's settled, let's eat."

Darry walked past me into the kitchen without looking at me. I followed close behind. As much as I wanted this to be a normal family breakfast, I knew it was going to be anything but.

"So when the manager went to the back room, I snuck behind the counter and sneaked this beauty into my jacket," Two-Bit was saying proudly as we left the cafeteria and into the hallway. Lunch had just ended. Once again Two-Bit was telling his favorite story: how he stole his switchblade-his favorite possession.

I wasn't listening. I had too much on my mind. All I could think bout was Darry. Breakfast was quiet, which had been the norm since Darry got his third job. I could tell that Sodapop was still angry by the way he kept shooting Darry frustrated looks from across the table. What I kept thinking about the most was how sad Darry looked when I spoke to him. The last time I saw him this sad was at our parents' funeral. I couldn't help but wonder what was wrong.

Two-Bit put a hand on my shoulder and stopped me from walking. He looked at me in concern. "Hey. What's eatin' you kid?"

"Two-Bit..did you know that Darry was in the hospital?"

His face drained of color. "What?! What happened? Is he okay?"

"I dunno what happened. I overheard him and Sodapop arguin' about it this mornin'. He seemed okay, besides overworkin' himself like normal. We convinced him to stay home today."

Two-Bit looked relieved. "I'm glad."

"Me too." I frowned as I thought about it some more. "Why didn't they tell me?" I wondered out loud.

"I'm sure they were just tryin' to protect you," Two-Bit said. "That's what big brothers are for. Sometimes I wish I had one."

I clapped him on the shoulder. "You may not have any brothers, but you have the gang. You know we got your back."

He grinned. "Thanks Pony. That means a lot."

BRIIIIING!

The bell rang, singling the beginning of class. I said goodbye to Two-Bit and then entered my fifth-period classroom. As I slid into my seat I thought about what Two-Bit said. I was lucky to at least have one brother who loved me, and I wouldn't trade Sodapop for anything in the world. If only Darry loved me as much as Soda did.

"All right class," Ms. Coleman said, breaking into my troubled thoughts. My teacher was standing in front of the classroom wearing a dark blue poodle skirt and black top. Her black hair was up in a bun. She had papers in her arms. "I'm going to pass back your exam results. I have to say I'm very pleased."

Silently Ms. Coleman placed my paper face-down on my desk. My palms began to sweat. I chewed on my fingernails in anxiety. Even though Darry had drilled me over and over again and I had recognized most of the questions, I had this horrible feeling that I had failed. I didn't even want to think of what Darry's reaction would be if I got a bad grade. He'd throw me out-or worse hit me again. I gulped at the thought.

I hesitated for a second, then flipped over the test. My eyes widened. A+ was written at the top by a red marker. Not only an A+, but I answered every question correctly. World History was my worst subject. I couldn't believe I aced it. Darry's constant drilling paid off after all. For the first time I felt gratitude for all the time Darry spent with me to make sure I did well.

I can't wait to show him, I thought to myself. Once he sees this, he won't be sad anymore. He'll be so proud.

Reality set in at my last thought. Proud? Darry wouldn't be proud of me. He had never been proud of me. He'd just lecture me and expect me to be perfect all the time. Then again when I thought about the encounter with him this morning, I wasn't sure if he was going to lecture me at all. Would he even care?

I shoved the test in my backpack, my happiness drained. For the first time since our fight, I wished that Darry would act like his old self again.

Darry

It had been a while since I had a day off. In fact, the last time I can remember having a day off was a couple of days before I got my third job. I had almost forgotten how to relax.

After Sodapop and Ponyboy left I made three phone calls. Two were to my bosses to let them know that I wasn't coming in. Luckily, I had plenty of sick time saved up at my construction job. I felt bad about calling out for my job at the bar since I had only been working there for a week, but Mr. Heyward was very understanding. I suspected Austin had told him what happened yesterday. My third call was to Austin to reassure him that I was staying home. I didn't need him coming over and babysitting me.

The next thing I did after my phone calls was go back to bed. I must've still been really tired because I slept until almost 2 in the afternoon. As much as I didn't want to admit it, Sodapop and Ponyboy were right. I did need the day off. When I woke up again, I had more energy than I'd had in days. I was able to catch up on grocery shopping and other chores that I had been neglecting. The best part was I was beginning to feel like my old self again.

I stirred the pot of noodles on the stove, next to the pot of sauce and meatballs. The smell made my stomach rumble. I became lost in thought as Ponyboy entered my mind once again. I still hadn't been able to get over the shock that he had actually spoken to me. It had been so long that I was beginning to lose hope that he'd ever forgive me. I must've looked really bad if Ponyboy had noticed. Or did he still care about me, despite what he told Sodapop the night I hit him? Whatever the reason may be, it was Ponyboy's worried expression that convinced me to stay home.

After thinking about it for a while I became cautiously optimistic. Ponyboy may have started talking to me again, but it didn't mean he had forgiven me. I decided to give it a little more time. When the time was right, I was going to give him the long-overdue apology he deserved. Most importantly, I was going to tell him that I loved him.

SLAM!

I heard Sodapop and Steve's energetic voices as they came through the front door. I glanced at my watch. 6:15 PM. I was surprised that I hadn't seen Ponyboy yet. I saw his backpack by the door when I came home from the grocery store an hour ago, but he wasn't in the house. I wondered where he was off to. He knew that he was supposed to be home straight after school.

"Hey Darry," Sodapop said. He took off his blue work shirt and threw it on the couch casually, followed by his hat. His blue eyes lit up when he saw me as I came out of the kitchen to greet him. "You look a lot better. How are you feelin'?"

"I'm alright," I answered. "You guys were right. I did need the day off."

Sodapop grinned.

"It's late. I wonder why Pony ain't home yet" I commented.

"He's probably at the park with Johnny watchin' the sunset. He'll be home around 7."

I suppressed the urge to lecture Sodapop about letting Ponyboy stay out that late on a school night. "Dinner's almost ready. I have enough for you too, Steve."

Steve's eyes lit up. Sodapop cut in before he could say anything. "Thanks, but don' bother getting us a plate. Steve and I are goin' to the rodeo tonight."

"We are?" Steve asked in surprise. Sodapop nudged him hard in the ribs. He rubbed his chest. "Ow. I mean…we are."

I raised an eyebrow at them suspiciously. I didn't even want to know what kind of trouble they were planning on getting into. "Just be back by curfew and don't get busted by the cops."

"We'll do our best. Hope you enjoy some bondin' time with Pony. Tell him I'll be back later."

My blood turned into ice when I realized what Sodapop was doing. He was trying to mend our broken bond. I knew he was doing this with good intentions, but I had a bad feeling that it would backfire. Ponyboy might have finally started to talk to me again, but it didn't mean he wanted to be in the same room as me. "But-."

SLAM!

Sodapop and Steve were out the door before I could protest further. I ran my hand through my hair anxiously. Now what was I going to do?

Ponyboy walked through the door right at seven just like Sodapop said he would. By then I had already set the table and had dinner waiting. I noticed he was only wearing his dark blue sleeveless sweatshirt again and was shivering. I forced down the lecture I'd normally give him for coming home so late, or for not wearing a coat. The last thing I needed was to get into a fight with him.

"Where's Soda?" He asked.

"He and Steve went out. It's just you and me tonight, kiddo."

Ponyboy attempted to hide the disappointment, but I saw it on his face anyway. I did my best to not show how much pain that one action caused me. He joined me at the dining room table. We began eating in silence, neither of us looking at each other. The spaghetti I made felt dry and kept getting stuck in my throat. It also would seem that I didn't have much of an appetite. I was too nervous.

The tension was starting to get to me. I had to say something, anything. But what? Ponyboy beat me to the punch. "So…uh…I got my exam back," he said nervously. "I got an A+. I didn't miss a single question."

My insides swelled with pride. I knew that he could do it. He was so smart-smarter than I'd ever be. I looked at him. Ponyboy looked extremely nervous, yet slight hope was in his brown eyes.

Tell him how proud of him you are, a voice whispered in my head. Tell him that you've always been proud of him.

The fear of being too hard on him overwhelmed me. I felt my courage fading fast. "Good." I managed after a moment.

The silence resumed.

Good?! I berated myself angrily as I watched Ponyboy's face fall in disappointment. That's all you have to say to him?!

I forced the guilt down the best I could. I broke the silence a moment later with the first thing that came to my mind. "So…too bad about the World Series, huh? I was really hopin' the Twins would win."

Ponyboy kept his eyes on his plate. A small grin was on his face. "Yeah, that was a bummer." He paused for a moment, his smile fading. "Darry?"

"Yeah?"

"Why were you in the hospital?"

I stayed silent for a moment as I chose my words carefully. I was hoping he wouldn't find out about that. Ponyboy may hate me, but I didn't want him to think that this was his fault when it was obviously mine. "I had a small accident at work yesterday. I just went to make sure that everythin' was okay."

"Oh."

I stared at him, trying to figure out what he meant. Was he relieved that I was all right or disappointed? His face held no emotion. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

I wish he'd get hit by a train.

I swallowed the large lump in my throat as I struggled to force the pain down. It was obvious what he meant.

Ponyboy stood up from the table once his plate was empty. He grabbed his backpack from the door and slung it over his shoulder. "I'm gonna get started on my homework."

I stood up too. On any normal day, I'd instruct him to do the dishes since I cooked, but I had something more important to say to him. "Pony, wait," I called before he could leave the dining room.

He froze, then turned to face me. His shoulders tensed up and he bit his lip. He was bracing himself for a lecture. My chest burned as if he had poured salt into the open wounds in my heart. "I…I'm…"

Tell him. Tell him how sorry you are. Tell him that you love him.

I lost my courage. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the mornin'. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He left the room.

I silently grabbed the dishes from off the table and prepared to clean up. I hadn't felt so angry at myself since the night I hit him. I had the perfect chance to apologize and once again I let my fear of rejection hold me back.

Darrel, you are such a coward.

To be continued...