(This one-shot spans a couple of years but here's the starting date/ages)

September 1954

Darry: 9

Sodapop: 5

Ponyboy: 3

Darrel Curtis felt as though he had just closed his eyes when he heard a quiet thump from somewhere in the house. He paused momentarily, waiting to see if the sound repeated itself, before deciding he could just go back to sleep. The second he closed his eyes, though, another thump through the house. Darrel hastily threw off his blankets and glanced over at his still-sleeping wife before investigating the source of the noise. He decided to grab the gun he kept at the top of his closet, just in case. You never knew with this neighborhood.

Darrel quietly crept down the hallway, silently glancing at his sons' rooms as he passed them. Darry and Soda's door was shut tight, while Pony's was flung wide open. Darrel found this unusual, seeing as how his youngest son usually slept with the door merely cracked open. Darrel made his way to the kitchen, quickly moving on as he saw nothing, and finally made his way to the front door. There stood Ponyboy, his 3-year-old son, repeatedly walking headfirst into the door.

Darrel quickly set his gun down before moving toward his son. "Ponyboy? What's the matter?" he asked. His son simply continued staring at the door, occasionally taking a step forward and running right into it. It was then that Darrel realized his son was sleepwalking. Maggie had mentioned before that she did it as a little girl, so he figured Pony must've inherited it.

He sighed, carefully picking up his youngest child and allowing his head to lay on his shoulder. He felt Ponyboy begin to stir, but quickly began rubbing his back and hushing him back to sleep. As he placed his son back in his bed, he noticed Pony's eyes were wide open and staring at him.

"Time to get up?" Ponyboy asked.

"Shhh, no baby, go back to sleep," Darrel responded, pushing his son's hair out of his face. Pony sighed, seeming content before falling back into a dreamless sleep. Darrel slowly made his way back to his bed and the comfort it provided, already dreading having to get up early the next morning. He just hoped this sleepwalking didn't become a habit.

— — — — — — — — — —

Darrel Curtis didn't find Ponyboy sleepwalking again until a year later, though this instance proved to be more intense. Darrel and Margaret were up late that night, sitting on the couch having one of those adult conversations that always seemed to creep up on them. The sound of a door flinging open caused them to stop, though, followed by an ear-piercing scream.

Darrel and Margaret rushed to the source of the sound, expecting to find an intruder or injury. Instead, they were greeted by 4-year-old Ponyboy standing in the middle of the hallway, sobbing and screaming at the top of his lungs.

Margaret quickly rushed to soothe her baby. "Shh," she said, picking him up in her arms, "you're alright Ponyboy. It's just a dream, you're alright."

Ponyboy continued to scream, his eyes open and seemingly awake, though it was clear he wasn't really all there. He began to kick and thrash, causing Margaret to pass him off to Darrel.

"Shh, it's alright, Mommy and Daddy are here, you're alright," he hummed. Eventually, Ponyboy was able to calm down and fell right back asleep, breathing softly as if the encounter had never happened. Darrel spotted the heads of two young boys poking out of their bedroom, wondering what all the commotion was.

"Go back to sleep boys, Ponyboy just had a bad dream," Darrel reassured as Margaret moved to tuck the both of them back in.

This kid's imagination is going to be the death of him Darrel thought to himself as he rocked his youngest son back and forth. Ponyboy didn't seem to have any recollection of the incident the next morning, so Darrel and Margaret vowed to not bring it up to avoid scaring him. Ponyboy stopped sleepwalking after that night, and they figured it was a habit he had grown out of, just as Margaret had.

— — — — — — — — — —

Two years later, Darrel woke to the sound of sizzling bacon and a lively kitchen. The clock on his nightstand read 9:30; it was Sunday, his only day to sleep in. He stretched and made his way toward the kitchen, not wanting to waste his day off sleeping. Margaret was bustling around, simultaneously cooking bacon, eggs, toast, and pancakes for everyone. Darry and Soda sat at the table, sneaking bites of the food as she set it down.

Darrel moved to kiss Margaret on the cheek before placing a hand on top of each boy's head. "Why don't you boys go wake up your brother before you eat all the food?" he asked.

Darrel waited until the boys were out of sight before turning to Margaret and kissing her. "Any plans for today?" he asked.

"Oh, you know, cooking and cleaning, managing a house with four wild boys," Margaret teased.

"Four? Three, sure, but—"

"Pony's not in his room."

Darrel turned as Sodapop interrupted him, shocked by what he had said.

"Is he in the bathroom? One of your beds?" Darrel asked.

"No, I checked every room, he's not here," Darry said, suddenly appearing in the doorway.

This revelation kickstarted a full-scale search for Ponyboy. It wasn't like him to leave the house, but they couldn't seem to find him anywhere in it. Darrel could see Margaret beginning to crumble and knew he needed to find his son fast before he began to crumble too.

"I found him!"

Darrel could see the relief flood Margaret's face as Darry's words rang out, and could feel the relief wash over him as well. The rest of the family ran out the front door to meet Darry and found him pointing at Ponyboy, sleeping in the corner of the porch. He looked curled up and freezing but was still fast asleep and unaware of the chaos that ensued around him.

"Hey, Pone? Get up, little man. Whatcha doin' out here on the porch?" Darrel asked, gently shaking his son.

"Huh?" Ponyboy asked, blinking and bleary-eyed.

"Here, let's get you inside before you half-freeze to death," Darrel said, picking up his son. Margaret looked to be near-tears and Sodapop wasn't all that far off either. Darrel knew if Ponyboy saw the family in this state surely a meltdown would ensue, leading him to press Ponyboy's head to his shoulder and block his view of everyone.

"What happened?" asked Ponyboy.

"I think you were sleepwalking honey," Darrel explained as he set Pony on the couch.

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, between the concerned looks Darrel and Darry had on their faces and the tears threatening to roll down Margaret's and Sodapop's.

"Maybe I was just sleep-exploring," Ponyboy said quietly, "I promise I won't do it again."

Darrel and the boys chuckled at Ponyboy's attempt to reconcile why he woke up on the front porch, while Margaret melted at her son's apology for something he couldn't even control. She hugged her son tightly, and the rest of the family quickly joined in. Everyone hoped that the next time Ponyboy sleptwalk he at least wouldn't go too far.

— — — — — — — — — —

Just as Darrel Curtis had hoped, sleepwalking was a habit Ponyboy grew out of for the most part. He occasionally heard the sound of footsteps or a quiet thumping throughout the house but was able to gently usher his son back to bed. He never found him outside again, either.

The phrase "sleep-exploring" became an inside joke among the gang for years to come. Whether Ponyboy had slept-walked the night before or had come home late after losing track of time, the gang didn't miss an opportunity to tease him and insist that he had been "sleep-exploring."

After the Curtis parents' death, Darry found himself listening for any indication that Pony may be out of bed. If he ever heard that dreaded thump he was usually able to get his brother back to bed. And on the nights when Ponyboy sobbed and screamed and fought him, he held him tight and stroked his hair, just as his father had done before him.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read, favorited, reviewed, or even just clicked on my story so far. I love the little community we have here. If you ever need to talk feel free to leave a review or PM me, I'm here to listen ️