A/N: TW: emetophobia, vomiting, sickness, etc.

This is a request from lydraine44, thanks for sending in a request and thank you to everyone who has done so in the past!

Something I tried to focus on in this fic specifically is the difference between Darry before and after his parents' death. I think he's always been the level-headed responsible one, but I like to imagine how the accident changed him. I tried to incorporate that here since this takes place two years before the accident without making him too OOC. Let me know what you think!

March 1963

Darry: 18

Sodapop: 14

Ponyboy: 11

"I'm notthatsick, and I'm not a baby either, I'll be fine!"

Margaret Curtis eyed her youngest son warily, knowing he was one to hide when he was sick or hurt. She and her husband, Darrel, had made plans to do some shopping in town today, leaving Darry in charge of his two younger brothers. After hearing Ponyboy's incessant coughing and sneezing, though, she was having second thoughts.

Ponyboy always had a tendency to try and downplay any sickness or injury that afflicted him, no matter how big or small. Margaret figured it came with being the youngest, not just of his brothers, but his friends, too. He was constantly trying to prove that he was mature enough to be with the older boys, and tried to avoid coming across as younger in every conceivable way. This created problems for Margaret anytime he was in actual need of help, for she could never determine how hurt or sick he actually was.

"Please Mom, I don't want to be the reason you and Dad can't go shopping. I'll be fine," Ponyboy insisted

Margaret smirked, knowing her son likely didn't care whether or not she and Darrel went shopping. She'd been a mother for 18 years, she knew that plans were likely put into place the second the boys found out they would have the house to themselves. Ponyboy didn't want to miss out on a chance to be with the older boys, or even worse, be the reason their plans fell through.

"He'll be fine, Mom, I'll take real good care of him."

Margaret turned to see her oldest son, Darry, leaning against Ponyboy's doorframe. His advocating for her to leave further confirmed her suspicions that they had plans for the house while she was gone.

"Alright then, we'll only be gone for a couple of hours. You know the rules: listen to Darry, no fighting, don't burn the house down. Oh," she turned to face Darry, "and no inviting anyone over."

Darry's face fell. "Not even the gang? C'mon Mom, they're like family!"

"Not even the gang. Ponyboy needs rest, something he won't get with you boys roughhousing around the house. Am I clear?"

Darry sighed defeatedly. "Yes," he muttered.

Darry wouldn't admit it, but he had of course made plans for when his parents left. Nothing too crazy, just inviting the gang over for some poker. They would be able to crank the music up as loud as they wanted without getting yelled at, and they wouldn't have to censor their language. Sodapop was in on it too, having swiped all the snacks they were going to eat. Leave it to Ponyboy to ruin it for them, though.

Darrel appeared in the doorway, knocking on it softly. "We've gotta go, Maggie. You okay Ponyboy?" he asked.

Ponyboy nodded, unable to speak as he began sneezing again.

Darrel and Margaret sighed, looking at each other worriedly. Maybe they shouldn't leave Ponyboy in this state…

"Relax, we'll take good care of him! Right Darry?" Sodapop said, suddenly appearing in the doorway as well.

Ponyboy rolled his eyes, wondering how many family members were going to stand in his doorway and watch him live in misery today. Sodapop didn't know the first thing about taking care of someone when they're sick, but his words seemed to work on his parents.

"Okay, let's go. Like your mother said, no friends over. Not even the gang, we mean it. Oh, and we'll know if you break the rule," Darrel said, eyeing Darry toward the end of his statement. Darry gulped, knowing his dad was probably right. The last thing he needed was to lose the truck right now, the last two months of his senior year were coming up. There were parties and events every weekend, and most were on the West Side, not within walking distance.

"Alright, I got it. No friends, no parties, no hard drugs," Darry said, saluting sarcastically.

Margaret and Darrel eyed each other one more time before moving to Ponyboy's bedside. Darrel ruffled his son's hair, stopping briefly to rest his hand on his son's forehead and check his temperature, relieved to find he wasn't warm. Margaret kissed her son's forehead and smoothed his hair back, all while Ponyboy rolled his eyes. The last thing he needed after ruining his brothers' plans was to be babied in front of them.

The Curtis parents stood and started to leave the room, giving their two oldest boys knowing looks on the way out. Darry and Soda waited until they heard the familiar slam of the screen door and the sound of the family car disappeared down the road to begin bickering.

"What are we supposed to do now?"

"I don't know, call the guys and tell them today's off, I guess. Not much else we can do."

"God, Sodapop, I told you to wait until the day of to call them up. What if we can't get ahold of them and they still show up?"

"Then we tell them to leave, plain and simple. Mom and Dad will know if we have them over."

"They usually wouldn't have a problem with it, but not today since the baby's sick. Nice going, Ponyboy."

"It ain't his fault, Darry, Mom knew what you were planning the second you insisted she leave."

Ponyboy shrunk at Darry's words but was glad Sodapop was sticking up for him.

"Well you better go call the guys and tell them not to come over here before we've got an even bigger mess on our hands," Darry instructed.

Sodapop backed up a few steps before getting a running start and sliding over to the phone in his socks, causing Darry to roll his eyes.

"You good then?" Darry asked.

It took Ponyboy a moment to realize his brother was talking to him. He had a runny nose, sore throat, and his stomach was starting not to feel too hot I should've asked Mom to stay with me,he thought.

Despite all of this, Ponyboy insisted he was fine. Darry nodded and left to go see what was on TV this time of day. Sodapop had finished calling the guys and breaking the unfortunate news, so he joined Darry on the couch as well.

As much as Ponyboy wanted to go watch TV with his brothers, he knew they would likely see through him and notice how sick he actually was. He opted to instead lay back down, wallowing silently in his own misery. He felt as though he had just closed his eyes, though, when he awoke to the sound of shouting.

"Well I don't know what to do, you're the one in charge!"

"Oh, now I'm the one in charge? After you refused to listen to me all day?"

"We've gotta do something!"

Ponyboy opened his eyes, squinting at the light in his bedroom. He was met with both of his brothers standing over him, shouting and giving him a headache. He looked down to see that someone had spilled something all over his , he thought. He had a disgusting taste in his mouth, too. Even through his headache, he was beginning to piece together that he may have thrown up on himself without realizing it.

"C'mon Pony, let's get you in the shower," Soda insisted, helping his brother up. He didn't miss the dirty look he got from Darry, who was left to wash the sheets and clean up the mess.

Ponyboy stumbled to the bathroom, Sodapop holding him up, and stepped into the shower fully clothed. He continued to brace himself against Soda's arm, not positive that he would be able to hold himself up.

"Soda, I don't feel so good," Ponyboy whined.

Sodapop felt his brother's forehead and gasped at how hot it was. Mom and Dad had only left an hour ago, how had he gotten so much worse?

"Darry, get in here!" Sodapop shouted.

Darry sauntered in, still mad at his brother for making him clean up the mess and remake the bed. He dropped the act, though, when he saw the look on Sodapop's face.

"He's not looking so good, I think he's got a fever," Soda explained.

Darry nodded and quickly went to get Ponyboy a change of clothes. Once they had their younger brother out of the shower, they quickly got him into dry clothes and helped him back to bed. Darry knew his brother must be feeling bad since he didn't put up a fight once about how he wasn't a baby.

Ponyboy was asleep before his head even hit the pillow, leaving Darry and Soda to gently maneuver him into bed and get some fresh blankets on him. Soda felt helpless. He was only 14, how was he supposed to know what to do? Hell, Darry was technically an adult and he seemed just as lost as he was.

"I'll go get him some medicine," Darry said, secretly eager to leave the tense room. He returned with the gross cherry-flavored medicine their mom was always making them take whenever they felt sick. None of the boys were really sure what it was or what it did, they just knew that it tasted disgusting.

Soda gently shook his younger brother's shoulder. "Pony, hey, you need to take some medicine."

Pony slowly opened his eyes, looking confused at his brothers. Darry took the opportunity to pour the medicine into a spoon and shove it in Pony's mouth before he could protest.

"Be careful Darry!" scolded Sodapop.

"He'll be fine, I just didn't want him refusing to take it," Darry explained.

Ponyboy resisted the urge to throw the medicine right back up before flopping back on the bed and falling fast asleep. Darry and Sodapop looked at each other worriedly, unsure of what to do.

"Now we just wait for Mom and Dad, I guess," shrugged Darry.

The sound of car doors slamming startled the brothers, causing them to stare at each other wide-eyed. Mom and Dad weren't due home for hours, how could they be back already?

"We're home!" beckoned the voice of Darrel Curtis.

"We're in Ponyboy's room!" answered the boys.

"We were going to shop for longer but I couldn't shake the feeling that—goodness what happened?" Margaret Curtis gushed, rushing to her youngest's bedside.

"…spiked a fever."

"Threw up ALL OVER himself…"

"…had to put him in the shower."

The boys hurriedly talked over each other, their speech becoming jumbled.

The Curtis parents looked at each other, then back at their sons.

"It's good we came home when we did, but it looks like you boys did a fine job taking care of your brother," Darrel Curtis reassured.

The boys gave a sigh of relief, turning to leave their mother to take care of their youngest brother once again.

"You were only 20 when I was born, right Dad?" Darry suddenly asked.

"Yes, I was 20 and your mother was 19," answered Darrel.

"I think I need to wait way longer than two years before I'm responsible for anyone," Darry admitted sheepishly.

Darrel put a hand on his oldest's shoulder, chuckling.

"That's alright son, you've got plenty of time."