A/N: I wrote this while crying to Great Expectations...again. Who knows how far in this life we could go if we played a different part?

June 1955

Darry: 10

Sodapop: 6

Ponyboy: 3

Darrel Curtis Sr. woke to the sound of his alarm's incessant beeping before quickly moving to shut it off. He lay in bed for a few extra moments, dreading whatever grueling work lay ahead of him for the day. It was at that moment, though, that he remembered he had taken the day off. His youngest son, Ponyboy, was getting his tonsils out. It was a less-than-ideal way to spend one of the few days off he had, nevertheless, he knew his wife, Margaret, would be a mess with her baby undergoing a procedure, and he needed to be there for her. Hell, he was nervous for his son too, but he'd never show it.

Darrel gently shook his wife awake before easing out of bed and padding his way into the hallway. He stopped outside his older boys' room and peeked through the door. They were both fast asleep; Darry stiff as a board and Sodapop sprawled across his bed at some uncomfortable angle, his sheets and blankets thrown to the floor. Darrel smiled at his sons, their personalities showing even while they slept.

He then moved further down the hallway, gently easing the door of his youngest son's room open. Any parent of a three-year-old with half a brain wouldn't dare wake them up at 6:00 in the morning voluntarily, but they needed to be at the hospital by 6:30. The room was silent except for the soft snores of his youngest son, something this very surgery aimed to fix. After countless bouts of illness and sleepless nights, the hope was that by removing Ponyboy's tonsils he would get sick less and be able to better sleep through the night. Darrel's work covered it partially with insurance, and so he reluctantly obliged.

Darrel gently lifted his son and eased him into his arms, hoping to simply transfer him to the car all while he stayed fast asleep. His efforts were unsuccessful, though, and he quickly heard Ponyboy whimpering in his arms.

"It's okay baby, it's just Daddy. We're just goin on a little car ride."

The three-year-old sighed contently before falling back asleep as Darrel rubbed his back. He didn't dare explain to his son what the day had in store for him. Sure, he felt bad leaving him in the dark about the procedure, but then again how do you explain surgery to a three-year-old and not freak them out?

He carried Ponyboy to the living room where Margaret stood, double-checking the hospital bag she had packed the night before.

"You ready?" Darrel asked, using his free arm to wrap her in a hug.

Margaret sighed and anxiously wrung her hands together. "Ready as I'll ever be," she replied, planting a kiss on Ponyboy's forehead.

Darrel double-checked that the note he had put on the counter the night before was still there. It read:

We'll be back around noon at the latest. Darry's in charge, call the number on the fridge if you need anything.

Darry, please don't boss your brother around too much. Sodapop, please don't burn the house down.

Love, Dad

Darrel then turned and carried Ponyboy out to the car, Margaret close behind him. The ride to the hospital was tense, to say the least. Not wanting to wake his son, Darrel spoke quietly.

"You okay, honey?" he asked, holding his wife's hand.

"I'll be alright…I just can't help but worry something will go wrong," she replied, glancing at the rearview mirror.

Darrel couldn't blame his wife for being nervous, the last time their son was in the hospital was when he was born premature, and they had almost lost him then. Almost.

"I know, but Pony's a fighter. Has been since he was born," Darrel said confidently.

Margaret only nodded, staying silent for the remainder of the car ride.

They managed to get through check-in without Ponyboy waking up, but he grew fussier the longer they waited for the nurses to come and prep him for surgery. His green eyes grew wide as he took note of his unfamiliar surroundings, frantically searching the pre-op room.

"Seein' a doctor?" Ponyboy asked.

"Yeah baby, you're gonna see the doctor today and he's gonna fix your throat," Margaret replied, trying to keep the nervousness she was feeling from showing through her voice.

Ponyboy nodded and began to entertain himself by babbling about everything and nothing, pausing at times to suck his thumb or run around the pre-op room. After what felt like an eternity to his parents, the doctors and nurses finally arrived to prep Ponyboy. They got him changed into a gown and took his vitals, listening to his heart and taking his blood pressure. Pony seemed content to let them do their work, winning over all the nurses with his smile and bright eyes.

That smile diminished, though, when a nurse brought out the needle to start Ponyboy's IV. That resulted in immediate screaming, kicking, fighting, and crying.

"It's okay sweetie, it'll only be a small poke," consoled Margaret, to no avail.

Pony continued to flail in her arms, attempting to make his great escape. Eventually, Darrel simply had to hold his arm down so the nurse could insert the needle.

"You're doing great son, she'll be quick and it'll be over," coached Darrel.

Some additional screams and tears later, Ponyboy's IV was in and secured. His parents had to prevent him from touching it too much, but he seemed to have recovered from the ordeal and was resting in his mother's lap on the hospital bed.

"Alright, now that we've got him prepped we're going to give your son some medication through his IV to keep him calm before wheeling him back to surgery," the doctor explained to Mr. and Mrs. Curtis. They both nodded as the doctor slowly pushed the liquid medication out of a syringe and into Ponyboy's IV, causing Pony's eyes to droop.

Margaret and Darrel both planted a kiss on their son's head before Margaret eased him out of her arms and he was wheeled off to surgery. Darrel could tell his wife was still nervous.

"It's a simple operation, he'll be back in no time," he said.

Margaret nodded, but wasn't so sure.

— — — — — — — — — —

It wasn't long before the doctor approached Mr. and Mrs. Curtis as they waited anxiously in the waiting room.

"Mr. and Mrs. Curtis?" they both nodded. "We've finished the surgery and everything looks good, he did very well and the anesthesia should be wearing off soon if you'd like to follow me to the recovery room."

They both nodded eagerly before following the doctor through the maze of hallways that made up the hospital.

Darrel squeezed his wife's hand. "See, I told you he'd be fine."

She jokingly swatted his hand away. "Alright, you can be right, but only just this once," she smirked.

Darrel rolled his eyes. "Just this once?"

Before Margaret could respond, the doctor stopped outside a particular door and motioned for them to step in. There lay Ponyboy, still asleep from the medication. Both parents quickly rushed over to hold his hand, push his hair back, and kiss his forehead. Darrel let out a sigh of relief, having been just as nervous as Margaret, despite not showing it.

Ponyboy soon began to stir, though it was clear he wasn't all there.

"Hi honey, your throat's all fixed now. You did so good," soothed Margaret.

Ponyboy simply buried his head into his mother's shoulder, wanting to go back to sleep. His parents couldn't help but smile.

After signing the necessary paperwork, the Curtis parents were able to take Ponyboy home. Darrel carried him out to the car, gently laying him in the backseat*. Margaret sat in the back with him, his head on her lap.

"We gonna play when we get home?" Ponyboy asked, still feeling the effects of the medication.

"After you rest a little you can play," replied Margaret.

Darrel drove extra carefully on the way home, hovering below the speed limit and taking the turns slowly until eventually, they were in front of the house.

Darrel once again picked up his son, carrying him into the house. He was quickly greeted by a young boy with too much pent-up energy.

"Daddy! Daddy! Is Ponyboy okay? Does he want some chocolate cake?" shouted Sodapop.

Ponyboy simply buried his head further into his father's shoulder as Darrel shook his head.

"Pony's not quite up for that yet, Pepsi Cola. He's gotta rest for a little while."

Sodapop looked disappointed but resigned to bother Darry instead.

Darrel laid Ponyboy in his bed, gently pulling the covers up to his chin. Margaret soon appeared, soup and popsicles in hand. Darrel knew his son would be in good hands with his wife. He turned to leave them together and heard Margaret comforting Ponyboy as he ate a popsicle before closing the door. He had two other boys with too much energy and very little energy himself. Who knew what the day would bring?

*this was the 50s, wear your seatbelt guys.