A/N: This is the last chapter of this story. I feel the need to say again,
these characters are not mine in any way, shape, or form. Also, much of
this chapter is a rewriting of a scene in the book. Don't sue me, I'm still
a starving musician and college student who lives at home.
Chapter 3: Home at Last
February 3, 2003
The phone rang late on the fifth day of Pony and Johnny's disappearance. I was too busy wallowing in my own guilt to bother answering it, so Soda did. I didn't pay much attention to his side of the conversation, but when he hung up, he practically jumped on me.
"They found him!" he said gleefully, eyes sparkling again. I stared at him, not understanding what he was telling me. "They found Ponyboy, he's at the hospital. They said something about a fire, they took him to the hospital, but he's ok." On and on he rambled as he dashed around the room, finding his shoes and looking for his coat.
"Darry!" he said impatiently. At the look on my face, he stopped. "What's the matter?"
"He's gonna hate me," I said softly. Soda came over and hugged me.
"No he won't. And even if he does," he added with a mischievious look in his eyes, "we still gotta claim him. Do you think the state would let us make stew out of him?" He dodged my half-hearted swing and ran, giggling, out the door. I pushed myself up from the chair and followed him.
The hospital was as large and intimidating as ever. I licked my lips, remembering the last time we'd been here, after Mom and Dad's car accident.
"C'mon!" Soda said, bounding along ahead of me. We entered the emergency room and found the front desk.
"Hi, we got a call telling us my brother is here," I told the nurse at the desk.
"Name?" was all she asked.
"Ponyboy Curtis." She raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything as she rummaged through a stack of clipboards. A fat middle-aged man standing next to the desk smiled when he heard Pony's name.
"So you're Ponyboy's brothers," the man said, smiling. "Nice kid, hero, you know."
"Where can we find him?" I interrupted. I was not in the mood for people wasting my time. Unfortunately, the nurse decided right then to hand me a clipboard.
"Please sign these," she said, sounding bored.
"I'll go tell him you're here," the fat man offered. He walked away from us, down the hall to a set of double doors marked "Waiting Room." Soda fidgeted impatiently next to me. It only took a minute to sign Pony's release forms, but that was a minute too long for Soda. As soon as I handed the clipboard back, he took off down the hall to the double doors.
I entered to find Pony in Soda's bear hug. Soda had actually lifted him off the ground and was swinging him around. Pony looked happy enough to cry. Soda finally set him down and pushed back his hair, which was shorter and blonder than it had been last time we'd seen him.
"Oh, Ponyboy, your hair.your tuff, tuff hair." Then Pony noticed me and the smile dropped off his face. I jammed my fists in my pockets and just looked at him. I didn't know what to say.
"Ponyboy." My voice was husky and I felt wetness on my cheeks. I hadn't cried in years and yet tears were running freely down my face.
We stared at each other for a long minute before I turned away. It was obvious to me that he blamed me, and well he should. This mess was all my fault. In that moment, something seemed to snap inside him.
"Darry!" he screamed, and suddenly his thin arms were wrapped around my waist, squeezing as hard as he could. "Darry," Ponyboy said again as I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back, "I'm sorry."
I stroked his hair, still holding him tightly as I tried to choke back the sobs that shook my whole body and threatened to escape my mouth. "Oh, Pony," I managed to get out, "I thought we'd lost you.like we did Mom and Dad." He didn't respond, just held onto me tightly with his head pressed against my chest. I had never been so glad to hold someone in my arms.
The three of us stayed there in the waiting room for hours, hoping for some news of Dally and Johnny. Not long after Soda and I got there, a bunch of reporters showed up, along with the cops. The reporters just kept tossing questions at Pony, until I noticed how confused and nervous he looked. Finally I got fed up and yelled at them. Thankfully they slowed down, and Pony looked relieved.
I couldn't keep my eyes off him. My littlest brother had changed so much in the five days since I'd seen him last. He was pale, and he'd lost weight. His hair, formerly reddish-brown, had been bleached blond, and I found myself wondering what he and Johnny had used to cut it off; it was short and ragged.
Soda was finally acting like himself again. He was mimicking the reporters, lifting things and returning things, and just generally getting into the thick of things. Finally though, he got tired of them and stretched out on the bench next to me. Without a word, he dropped his head on my lap and went to sleep. The reporters and cops finally left and it was just the three of us sitting there.
Pony looked as tired as I felt, like he was about to nod off any minute. Soda sighed, drawing mine and Pony's attention. I grinned down at him half- heartedly.
"He didn't get much sleep this week," I told Pony softly so as not to wake Soda. "He hardly slept at all."
I guess Soda wasn't as asleep as I thought, because he responded sleepily, "Hmm, you didn't either." He sat up, still half asleep, leaving me free to track down a doctor. We were all exhausted and the sooner we could get home and sleep, the better.
The news wasn't good. Pony grew even paler as we listened to the doctor, and by the time the doc had finished, he was trembling and on the verge of tears. Soda just sat there, fully awake but stony faced, as though he hadn't heard a word the doctor said. His eyes betrayed the truth though; instead of dancing and sparkling, they were bleak and stunned. I had my arm around Pony and rubbed the back of his head softly.
"We'd better go home," I said. "We can't do anything here." I lead my little brothers to the car and they climbed in, Soda in front and Pony in back. By the time I pulled up in front of the house, Pony had conked out, leaning back against the seat. Soda managed to drag himself out of the car and opened Pony's door. He started shaking Pony gently.
"Hey, Ponyboy, wake up. You still gotta get into the house." Pony sighed and lay down on the seat without opening his eyes. Soda was starting to get frustrated, and to tell the truth, so was I. Soda shook him a little harder, pleading, "Come on, Ponyboy, we're sleepy too." Pony didn't move.
I'd had enough, so I nudged Soda aside, leaned into the car, and pulled Pony out. Soda shut the car door and hurried ahead to open the front door as I carried my sleeping brother into the house.
"He's getting mighty big to be carried," Soda remarked as we entered the house. Pony yawned in response.
"He's sure lost a lot of weight," I said. We entered the bedroom they shared and I half dropped, half set him on the bed. Pony was so out of it he didn't even wake up when he hit the mattress. Soda and I pulled Pony's shoes and shirt off, then I said goodnight and went to my own room. Funny thing was, tired as I felt, I couldn't sleep. I rolled off my bed and walked back to Soda and Pony's room.
It was a full moon that night and the moonlight illuminated the room. Soda was already asleep, his arm draped across protectively across Pony, who lay in the same position I'd left him in. They both looked so young lying there, and I was reminded again of the burden I carried, the burden of raising them. This time though, the task before me seemed less daunting.
I stood there in the doorway for a long time, gazing at the two people I loved most in the world. We were finally back under one roof and things were going to be okay. I wasn't going to let anything pull us apart again.
A/N: That's the end. Thanks to all of you who read my story and more thanks to those who reviewed! I hope you enjoyed it. Watch for more stories coming soon to a computer near you.
Chapter 3: Home at Last
February 3, 2003
The phone rang late on the fifth day of Pony and Johnny's disappearance. I was too busy wallowing in my own guilt to bother answering it, so Soda did. I didn't pay much attention to his side of the conversation, but when he hung up, he practically jumped on me.
"They found him!" he said gleefully, eyes sparkling again. I stared at him, not understanding what he was telling me. "They found Ponyboy, he's at the hospital. They said something about a fire, they took him to the hospital, but he's ok." On and on he rambled as he dashed around the room, finding his shoes and looking for his coat.
"Darry!" he said impatiently. At the look on my face, he stopped. "What's the matter?"
"He's gonna hate me," I said softly. Soda came over and hugged me.
"No he won't. And even if he does," he added with a mischievious look in his eyes, "we still gotta claim him. Do you think the state would let us make stew out of him?" He dodged my half-hearted swing and ran, giggling, out the door. I pushed myself up from the chair and followed him.
The hospital was as large and intimidating as ever. I licked my lips, remembering the last time we'd been here, after Mom and Dad's car accident.
"C'mon!" Soda said, bounding along ahead of me. We entered the emergency room and found the front desk.
"Hi, we got a call telling us my brother is here," I told the nurse at the desk.
"Name?" was all she asked.
"Ponyboy Curtis." She raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything as she rummaged through a stack of clipboards. A fat middle-aged man standing next to the desk smiled when he heard Pony's name.
"So you're Ponyboy's brothers," the man said, smiling. "Nice kid, hero, you know."
"Where can we find him?" I interrupted. I was not in the mood for people wasting my time. Unfortunately, the nurse decided right then to hand me a clipboard.
"Please sign these," she said, sounding bored.
"I'll go tell him you're here," the fat man offered. He walked away from us, down the hall to a set of double doors marked "Waiting Room." Soda fidgeted impatiently next to me. It only took a minute to sign Pony's release forms, but that was a minute too long for Soda. As soon as I handed the clipboard back, he took off down the hall to the double doors.
I entered to find Pony in Soda's bear hug. Soda had actually lifted him off the ground and was swinging him around. Pony looked happy enough to cry. Soda finally set him down and pushed back his hair, which was shorter and blonder than it had been last time we'd seen him.
"Oh, Ponyboy, your hair.your tuff, tuff hair." Then Pony noticed me and the smile dropped off his face. I jammed my fists in my pockets and just looked at him. I didn't know what to say.
"Ponyboy." My voice was husky and I felt wetness on my cheeks. I hadn't cried in years and yet tears were running freely down my face.
We stared at each other for a long minute before I turned away. It was obvious to me that he blamed me, and well he should. This mess was all my fault. In that moment, something seemed to snap inside him.
"Darry!" he screamed, and suddenly his thin arms were wrapped around my waist, squeezing as hard as he could. "Darry," Ponyboy said again as I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back, "I'm sorry."
I stroked his hair, still holding him tightly as I tried to choke back the sobs that shook my whole body and threatened to escape my mouth. "Oh, Pony," I managed to get out, "I thought we'd lost you.like we did Mom and Dad." He didn't respond, just held onto me tightly with his head pressed against my chest. I had never been so glad to hold someone in my arms.
The three of us stayed there in the waiting room for hours, hoping for some news of Dally and Johnny. Not long after Soda and I got there, a bunch of reporters showed up, along with the cops. The reporters just kept tossing questions at Pony, until I noticed how confused and nervous he looked. Finally I got fed up and yelled at them. Thankfully they slowed down, and Pony looked relieved.
I couldn't keep my eyes off him. My littlest brother had changed so much in the five days since I'd seen him last. He was pale, and he'd lost weight. His hair, formerly reddish-brown, had been bleached blond, and I found myself wondering what he and Johnny had used to cut it off; it was short and ragged.
Soda was finally acting like himself again. He was mimicking the reporters, lifting things and returning things, and just generally getting into the thick of things. Finally though, he got tired of them and stretched out on the bench next to me. Without a word, he dropped his head on my lap and went to sleep. The reporters and cops finally left and it was just the three of us sitting there.
Pony looked as tired as I felt, like he was about to nod off any minute. Soda sighed, drawing mine and Pony's attention. I grinned down at him half- heartedly.
"He didn't get much sleep this week," I told Pony softly so as not to wake Soda. "He hardly slept at all."
I guess Soda wasn't as asleep as I thought, because he responded sleepily, "Hmm, you didn't either." He sat up, still half asleep, leaving me free to track down a doctor. We were all exhausted and the sooner we could get home and sleep, the better.
The news wasn't good. Pony grew even paler as we listened to the doctor, and by the time the doc had finished, he was trembling and on the verge of tears. Soda just sat there, fully awake but stony faced, as though he hadn't heard a word the doctor said. His eyes betrayed the truth though; instead of dancing and sparkling, they were bleak and stunned. I had my arm around Pony and rubbed the back of his head softly.
"We'd better go home," I said. "We can't do anything here." I lead my little brothers to the car and they climbed in, Soda in front and Pony in back. By the time I pulled up in front of the house, Pony had conked out, leaning back against the seat. Soda managed to drag himself out of the car and opened Pony's door. He started shaking Pony gently.
"Hey, Ponyboy, wake up. You still gotta get into the house." Pony sighed and lay down on the seat without opening his eyes. Soda was starting to get frustrated, and to tell the truth, so was I. Soda shook him a little harder, pleading, "Come on, Ponyboy, we're sleepy too." Pony didn't move.
I'd had enough, so I nudged Soda aside, leaned into the car, and pulled Pony out. Soda shut the car door and hurried ahead to open the front door as I carried my sleeping brother into the house.
"He's getting mighty big to be carried," Soda remarked as we entered the house. Pony yawned in response.
"He's sure lost a lot of weight," I said. We entered the bedroom they shared and I half dropped, half set him on the bed. Pony was so out of it he didn't even wake up when he hit the mattress. Soda and I pulled Pony's shoes and shirt off, then I said goodnight and went to my own room. Funny thing was, tired as I felt, I couldn't sleep. I rolled off my bed and walked back to Soda and Pony's room.
It was a full moon that night and the moonlight illuminated the room. Soda was already asleep, his arm draped across protectively across Pony, who lay in the same position I'd left him in. They both looked so young lying there, and I was reminded again of the burden I carried, the burden of raising them. This time though, the task before me seemed less daunting.
I stood there in the doorway for a long time, gazing at the two people I loved most in the world. We were finally back under one roof and things were going to be okay. I wasn't going to let anything pull us apart again.
A/N: That's the end. Thanks to all of you who read my story and more thanks to those who reviewed! I hope you enjoyed it. Watch for more stories coming soon to a computer near you.