Ponyboy POV

I walk away from my locker, prepared to head out to track practice.

Lately, track has been the one thing I've looked forward to since Soda left. I tried not to think about it, it hurt too much. Whenever I got a letter, I treated it like it was the Holy Grail. I miss him so much, nightmares come often and I wish Soda was there to comfort me, I've got Darry and I'm glad for that. It's not the same though… just not the same.

I get to the front entrance of the school, about to head down the back way, to avoid any Socs that could be lurking.

I stopped when I saw a familiar truck in the school parking lot. I see Darry leaning up against it; he sees me and walks calmly over to me.

"Hey Dar, what are you doin' here?" I ask.

"Just got off work early and wanted to watch your practice. Is that alright?" Darry replies, there's a hitch in his voice.

"Yeah, that's fine. Are you alright?" I question.

He doesn't reply just looks off toward some unknown object.

"Darry?" I snap my fingers in front of his face to get his attention.

"Huh… what?" He asks me coming back to reality.

"I asked if you were alright." I say.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." He tells me, but I know he's lying.

I nod, but give him a weary glance, he doesn't notice.

We walk the rest of the way to the track in silence; I leave him to head to the locker rooms to change.

He looks older, more haggard, if possible. He's shoulders are slouched and I'm wondering if I've worn off on him because he's got that far away look that I get when I'm daydreaming.

I don't know what he's hiding, but it's really starting to bother me.

I change and head outside with the rest of my teammates.

Darry is sitting in the bleachers, here, but then again not really.

We run laps and do other things during practice that I'm used to, but my mind isn't on practice. It's off speculating what could worry my oldest brother.

Bills? I ask myself.

No, that can't be it. My part time job is keeping us afloat. For once Darry isn't breaking his back to get the bills paid, just his neck. His says that my job is helping out, but I still wish I could do more. I guess I never realized how much we depended on Soda's pay-check.

No… don't think about him. I scold myself.

Back to options…

Social workers? I list.

No, we had a surprise visit not too long ago.

That stupid monster lady had the nerve to ask about Sodapop and how we were coping. I wanted to pound her head in for even mentioning him, but I know that she was just being polite. The gang was there and after she said that, there was a thick tension in the room. She left and said nothing more on the subject, which I was thankful for. After she left I shut myself in my room the rest of the day.

Whenever somebody mentions Soda, my imagination takes hold of my brain and I don't know how to free it. It's kind of like the nightmares; I don't have a choice but to let them pull me down into a depression and endure it for the brief amount of time that they control me.

I couldn't think of anything else that could be wrong.

Me? I ask myself as a last resort.

I haven't done anything lately. After Soda left, I got into some trouble; fighting at school and not paying attention in class. Darry didn't know what to do with me. I was just depressed and didn't know how to handle it. I still don't, but things are getting better.

Two-Bit has been hanging around us more often; I think he's afraid that we'll break. He's broken too, but he's good at hiding it. He hangs out with me at school and makes sure that Socs don't mess with me too much, like always. The only thing that has changed is his light airy grey eyes are a little clouded; not as laughing as they used to be.

We have all seen too much to be innocent or even the same again before my parents' deaths. When all we had to worry about was when we would play football or get up for school, homework, and not get jumped. I miss those times.

I look at Darry up in the stands; his face looks as if he's regaling memories. He looks so depressed and I hate to see him like that. His eyes are aching for something nameless to me, but have meaning for him. Raw throbbing pain is reflected in his eyes. I also see there are acceptance and contentment. Sometimes during his daydream he would smile, and shake his head in disbelief.

Track practice ends without me paying much attention. I grab my bag and walk up to him, from where he sits.

"Dar, you ready?" I ask carefully.

"Yeah little buddy, let's go home. We got to talk about stuff." He gets up and walks away toward the car.

I sigh and follow him, he never calls me 'little buddy' except when things are bad. And usually he only calls Soda that, mine is Lil' Colt.

I stop in my path.

No… not Soda. I think.

That can't be what's wrong.

Oh God, please no. Not Soda too. You can't take away my brother too! I desperately want to be wrong, but all the signs fit.

The car ride home is done in silence.

All these questions float in my head, as if those weren't bad enough, I see Soda dieing in cruel ways. Horrible ways that would make you hurl if you had to watch them. I'm thinking about asking Darry to pull over at just the thought of them.

I don't want it to be true, we always knew there was a possibility he might not come back, but me and Darry were optimistic.

Yeah and look where that got us. I think sourly.

I want to bawl, I want to grab Darry and make him tell me this is a joke, but I don't. I just sit and stare out the window, while scenarios flash through my head, never ending.

Finally, before I realize it we are in the driveway of our house.

We both sit there, me continuing to let my stupid imagination get the best of me. I try to not think about it and give my mind time to think of some story, but it's like I'm a prisoner and my own creativity is torturing me.

"Come on Lil' Colt, let's talk inside." Darry gets out of the truck.

I follow him numbly, my thoughts still in Vietnam, imagining the worst thing.

I hope he died peacefully. I think.

Just thinking about it feels like a knife has stabbed me in the heart. And then to make matters worse, the knife is ground and twisted to a point where it feels like my heart is completely destroyed inside of me.

Good-bye Sodapop, I'll miss you. I love you, big brother. I think hoping that my message got to him in Heaven. If he didn't end up in Heaven, the morals of my life would be flipped around and confused. Soda deserved to get into Heaven, in my mind he was an angel.

He always kept me from drifting too far into hopelessness when nightmares hit or when the guilt became too much after Johnny and Dallas's deaths. He would set me straight and tell me it wasn't my fault, he'd say it in such a way that you would have to believe him, and I did.

Glory, Soda I'm gonna miss you. I need you so much. I think almost breaking down into tears, but I hold myself together.

I walk up the porch and open the screen door.

I drop my bag by the couch.

I look down the hallway and see the room me and Soda share.

Not anymore… My throat constricts.

"Pone, would you come in the kitchen." Darry says.

"Sure." I reply.

I walk into the kitchen, prepared to listen to Darry tell me about funeral plans. Prepared to bawl my eyes out because I've been wanting to since I got in the truck. I expected to feel so many emotions at one time that I might pass out.

But of course, I never prepare for the right thing.

What I didn't expect was the scene in front of me.

Steve and Soda both stand in front of me.

Darry and Two-Bit have grins on their faces and are looking back and forth between me and Soda.

I'm in complete shock; I can't comprehend what's in front of me.

No… but I thought… I… I think my mind, baffled.

They are waiting for me to say something, but I just stare wide-eyed at them.

"Ponyboy…" Soda says.

Just that one word and I completely lose it.

I sink to the floor sobbing, bring my legs into my chest and curl in a ball.

Here I was the whole way home, thinking Soda was dead, imagining his death, wondering if it was painful, hoping that he got into Heaven, thinking about how I wouldn't want the funeral to happen, thinking and thinking.

But while I was doing that, Soda was in the kitchen waiting to surprise his little brother. Darry was just trying to surprise me.

They were all just trying to make it a surprise, but here I was thinking about death.

I think way too much. I remind myself.

I feel arms, that I have wished for after nightmares, that I have yearned for since he left, wrap around me.

This causes me to cry harder.

What I craved for since he had gone to that to that God forsaken war is for my second oldest brother to hold me. I had longed for him to come home and never go back.

I try to stop the onslaught of tears, but the more I think of what I was imagining in the car and what was really happening keeps the tears coming with no sign of stopping.

"Pony, what's wrong? I mean, you look upset more than happy. You alright?" Soda asks me in a gentle voice.

His voice, I've missed it.

I look up slowly and see Darry crouching in front of me. Soda has his arms across my shoulders and I'm leaning into him. The guys are in the back of the kitchen giving us space.

"Pony, what's the matter?" Darry asks me concerned, placing a hand on my shoulder, while searching my eyes.

I swallow and say, "During track practice, you looked like something was wrong."

They nod for me to continue.

I don't want to tell Soda this, I hate thinking about it.

"I kept thinking of things that could be wrong. You didn't say anything and I didn't know, I thought of the worst possible things. I couldn't think of anything except you." I continue, looking at Soda.

I'm hoping that they'll both catch my meaning, but their confused faces tell me otherwise.

I sigh, "The whole way home I thought… you were… you know… gone…" I trail off, looking helplessly at the ground.

Darry and Soda eyes both widen.

"Oh, Ponyboy, I'm sorry. I was just trying to keep it a secret." Darry apologizes.

"I know, but I let my imagination take hold and I didn't know what to do and then you were here and…" I stop my words getting choked.

Soda gives me a look and then pulls me to him in a bone crushing hug.

"Not yet, Lil' Colt. I told you I was coming back and I did. Jesus, Pone, you got one hell of an imagination." Soda whispers in my ear.

I laugh, "I know, I hate it sometimes." I tell him.

He pulls back and looks at me; with eyes that I know he missed me like crazy, too.

We all stand up and look at each other, the three Curtis's again, the way it should be.

"You got taller, Pony." Soda tells me.

"Yeah, and you got shorter." I retort.

We laugh.

I see Steve standing there, talking to Two-Bit.

I walk up to him, "Hey Steve."

He turns to me, "Hey kid."

Then I hug him, he might be an ass to me sometimes… okay often, but I still missed him.

He returns the hug without hesitation; I guess he missed me too.

I pull back from the hug and we smirk at each other.

"You know, since you've been gone no one has been an ass to me." I tell Steve.

"Really? We'll have to fix that won't we?" Steve replies.

"Yeah, I guess we will." I say.

Everyone laughs.

I look at my brothers again and then pull them both into a hug.

You haven't taken him away yet, and I ain't gonna let you. Not without a fight. I think, holding on to my older brothers, the only family I've got left.