If You're Reading This by "psychopath-convention"

[The last letter Soda will ever send home from Vietnam. Everything he wants to say to his brothers and never did.]

. . .

Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders. The lovely Mrs. Hinton does.

Notices: 1) This is a plot-line of Hinton's that would've happened after the novel, so it's technically not AU. 2) Grammar mistakes will be here, since this is a letter written by Soda. I tried to capture his distinctive "voice" while still making it literate. That's a think line to walk, so let me know how I did; I'm curious! 3) Contains minor cursing. Most likely not enough to offend anyone, though.

Dear Darry and Pony,

If you're reading this letter, then I'm dead and gone. I can't imagine myself not coming back, but I guess it happened, or else I would've burned this letter when I got back.

I asked my buddy Jim to mail it to y'all if something happened to me, so you'd have something to give y'all closure. The worst part of Mama and Dad's death was how open-ended it was, at least for me. It was so abrupt. How they were just gone overnight and never got to say goodbye. I know I refused to say goodbye to y'all when I left, because I wanted to leave you with hope that I'd come back, but hell, I knew the chances were slim to none. If I didn't know that, I wouldn't be writing. This is my way of saying bye, and hopefully making it easier for both of you to move on with your lives.

There is nothing worse than a coward, I think. I know I cried all night to not have to go, and all along I've hated it, wished I could have done something, but in the end I don't really think I regret it. There are more important things than saving your ass and just looking out for yourself. I don't agree with this war or why I'm here, but I do believe in serving my country and being a good man. So that's what I'm trying to be here. A guy who doesn't back down, who ain't scared to die to keep his country safe for his family.

I wish I could just hug y'all one more time. There's so much I want to tell you, both of you.

Darry, you did such a good job raising me and Pony. Especially Pony. I'm not gonna lie, there wasn't much to be done with me. I know I would have dropped out whether Mom and Dad were dead or not. That's just who I am, I wasn't made for higher education. I'm the kind of guy who's happier just working at the DX and barely getting by.

I want you to know that you're the spitting image of Dad. That sometimes right after they died, I would see you come home and you hadn't shaved since that morning and I'd think you were him for a second. And if that ain't something to be proud of, being like Dad, then nothing is.

I want you to know that you're a better brother, father-figure, buddy, and all-around great guy than I could ever be. There's nothing you wouldn't do for somebody that needed it. I don't know any other brother who wanted an education as much as you who would give it up just for two ungrateful kids. But you did, and that makes you my hero.

Before I left, you said I was brave for fighting. I'm not as brave as you, Dar. I never will be.

Ponyboy. Shit. There's so much I want to say to you, I don't know if I can get it all out. I'm scared to forget something important. I know you're crying right now. Absolutely sobbing, probably. I want you to stop crying right now, and I want you to laugh instead. Because I'm in a better place. I'm somewhere were there ain't no war, or no Socs and greasers, or killing. I'm with Mom, Dad, Grandma, Papa, Johnny, and Dally (hopefully Dally. Ha, just kidding, he's here too, I'm sure. He's a good ole guy). And we're all watching out for you. You're lucky, you and Dar have seven guardian angels now. You could probably fling yourself off a cliff and be okay with all this protection.

Remember what Johnny said to you, right before he died? Stay gold. And how you talked and talked about it to me trying to explain it in the months that followed, and I never really got it? I know now. It means that you get knocked down when you grow up and quit being a little kid. You can be like Dally and stay down, or you can be like Johnny and keep standing back up. Keep trying.

Stay gold, Ponyboy.

I'm not fighting anymore, or having to shoot people. You don't know how happy this makes me. I'd honestly rather die now than have to fight in that war the rest of my life. It's awful, knowing they've got a family just like you and you might be taking somebody's big brother. Maybe it's their only family left. I can't stand it.

I want to be buried at the cemetery in Tulsa with Mom and Dad. Please don't put me at Arlington; I want to be home under that oak tree next to Mama and Daddy. If there's no room there, put me next to Johnnycake or Dal or something. I don't want a fancy headstone, either. If a plain plaque with a name and two dates was good enough for Johnny, who died saving lives, or Daddy, who worked his fingers to the bone to support us and never once complained, then it's good enough for me.

Tell Steve that I love him, and he's always my best friend. And to stop being an asshole because he never fooled me with his cover-up. He's a good guy. He'll be okay.

Tell Two-Bit that he's a great guy to call a buddy, and to keep joking and holding us together

I've realized something, being here. There ain't no home on earth. Not a place, anyway. Home is a bigger idea than being the building you live in. It's where the people you love are. So when you're in that house and realize you'll always be cooking for two people instead of three, or that I ain't gonna be waking you up with my snoring ever again, don't cry. Because there's more than one home for me. Yeah, I left too soon, but still, that home is just temporary. And y'all are both going to see me again, so don't start crying. Please don't cry.

And there's one more thing. There's going to come a time when you're over my death. That's okay. I want it to come, I'm watching from up here and waiting for it to come. I want there to be a day where you can pass the DX without crying. When you can look at a picture of me and say, "There's my crazy-assed brother".

Tell your kids about their Uncle Soda. Show them pictures, tell them stories. (Just not the embarrassing ones. For example, the time I won the drag race: good. The time I was trying to show off and fell out of the tree in our front yard and broke my leg: bad)

Don't go to my grave and cry. I'm not there. I'm still living, just not in my body.

I hope I did enough in the time I was around. I know there's so much more than I can say that I can make this letter go on forever and ever. But I'm going to end it now.

I love you guys. More than I've ever loved anything in the world. I hope whenever you see grape jelly or a DX that you laugh and remember me.

I want y'all to know that I'm not crying writing this letter, and I'm not sad. I've accepted that I may die fighting for our freedom, and I want y'all to accept it too. There are much, much worse ways to die than as a soldier.

Love,
Sodapop Curtis

P.S. Y'all better be nice to each other. Darry, quit screaming at Ponyboy for stuff he can't help. Pony, quit taking everything Darry says the wrong way. If I look down and see you fighting, I'm going to ask God to send some lightning down or something. Not enough to hurt you, just enough to scare you a little.

… You think I'm kidding.

Ponyboy looked up from the letter he'd just finished reading with tears in his eyes, but he was smiling. Without words, he got up and nearly threw himself into his older brother's arms. They both cried, and then sat down on the bed to read over the last letter they'd ever get from their beloved middle brother who wasn't ever coming home again.