Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm back! Haha. For those of you who don't know, this is the third part in a small series. I wrote Days Slide and the Years Go By first as a one shot. But I couldn't leave it at that, so I wrote a prequel to that called Define Your Meaning of War which is basically a series of 11 one shots leading up to the original one shot. Now this is a sequel to the original one shot. It will have a more linear plot and picks up right where Days Slide and the Years Go By left off. Basically that original one shot could be the first chapter of this story. So if you hadn't read anything else in this series, I strongly recommend at least going and reading Days Slide and the Years Go By.

DISCLAIMER: Those of you who have followed along with this series please keep in mind that Define Your Meaning of War was designed to just be snapshots of what happened while Soda was in captivity. Obviously 11 chapters couldn't really cover every single thing that happened over the course of three and a half years. So I reserve the right to have new things pop up in this story.

One last thing just before I usually forget to do this, the title The Sufferer and the Witness was inspired by the name of an album by the band Rise Against.

Okay now that all that's all out of the way, I am very excited for this story and I've been working very hard on it. Please don't forget to review! All reviews are wonderful motivators.

The Sufferer and the Witness

Chapter One

"Soda? Sodapop? Wake up."

Sodapop Curtis immediately tensed on instinct. His eyes were still closed but he was aware of the sensations around him. He was slumped partway over in a seat of some kind. There was a hand on his shoulder. Someone was speaking to him. The voice was what caused him to pause and kept his panic at bay. It wasn't commanding and angry. It was gentle. There was no hint of a Vietnamese accent. After all these years that voice was still familiar to him.

Soda squinted his eyes open, shying away from the bright sunlight. It took his vision a minute to adjust, as he was used to waking up in a dark cell. He looked over to see Darry next to him, standing outside the truck with the door open. Ponyboy was standing behind him. Soda was still in the truck, apparently having fallen asleep on the way home.

Home. It was hard to believe that after all this time he really was home again. It had been four years since he had last been here. Four years since he was drafted to fight in the war in Vietnam. A war he never wanted any part of. He had fooled himself into thinking that being drafted would be the worst thing that could happen to him. That potentially dying in a foreign country would be the worst thing that could happen to him. He had been very wrong. Being captured by Vietnamese soldiers and held prisoner for three and a half years had been. Held prisoner… and brutally tortured.

Quickly Soda pushed those thoughts away. That wasn't something he wanted to think about right now. He just wanted to live in the moment and be happy that at long last he was home.

Slowly Soda shifted on the seat and pushed himself out of the truck, his feet landing firmly on the concrete. Darry backed up to give him some room. Soda looked up at the house in front of him. At a glance it was like no time at all had passed. He looked at the same front porch, the same unkempt lawn. However as he looked closer he could spot the signs of time. The paint seemed more chipped and the walk seemed to have a few more cracks in it. Life clearly had gone on while he had been gone.

Soda made his way up the porch, hearing the steps squeaking loudly under his feet. He rested his hand lightly on the railing for balance. He still wasn't used to moving around so much and noticed how quickly he tired. It felt so strange to be out and about in the world again.

Inside the house was comfortably familiar. It was like walking right into one of his dreams that he had back in his cell when he imagined home. The stained carpet, the old recliner, the lumpy couch, the little black and white television. Everything was the same, though admittedly a little more worn. It was almost as if it had been waiting for him here this entire time.

Darry came up beside him carefully. "Welcome home, little buddy," he said with a grin.

Soda tried to smile back at him, but the expression felt out of place on his face. "Thanks, Darry." His voice was quiet and careful.

"Here you go, buddy." Two-Bit was suddenly on his other side, holding out the small duffle bag he had brought home with him. Soda had almost forgotten that Two-Bit and Steve had been in the back of the truck.

"Thanks," Soda said as he took the bag. Nothing in this bag was really his. He hadn't had any personal possessions in three and a half years. In the bag were only a few essentials the government had provided him with while he stayed at the military base for debriefing. He felt no attachment to it.

"We did a little shuffling with the bedrooms," Darry told him. "I'm in mom and dad's old room now and we moved Pony into my room. So you can have yours and Pony's old room." He paused. "We thought it would be good for you to be somewhere familiar."

Soda digested that for a minute. Of course, Pony was older now. He wouldn't need his big brother with him at night to keep away the night terrors anymore. How old was Pony now? Nineteen? Twenty? He felt too embarrassed to ask. It was going to take awhile to get used to how much time had actually passed. Somehow it felt like too much time had passed while simultaneously feeling like no time at all had passed. It was very disorienting.

Soda took a breath as he walked forward, heading down the hallway toward the bedrooms. After he was almost to his and Pony's – though now it was just his – bedroom he realized that he probably should have said something rather than just abruptly walking away. He wasn't sure what he should have said though. It was almost like he didn't remember how he was supposed to interact with friends and family anymore. He paused as that realization hit him. It scared him.

He shook the feeling away quickly, trying his best to ignore it. He pushed open the bedroom door and walked inside. It was a very surreal moment, like stepping back in time. Everything in here was familiar, from the bedspread to Pony's drawings tacked to the wall to the dresser in the corner. The only obvious indication that Pony had left this room was that his desk was gone. The more Soda looked at the empty space where it once was the more glaring it became, making him uncomfortable.

Soda tore his eyes away from the spot and moved over to the bed. He carefully sat down on the edge, letting the bag fall down to the floor by his feet. He closed his eyes for a minute and just focused on his own breathing, letting everything else melt away. He opened his eyes again carefully, half expecting the dark, empty cell he had become accustomed to seeing come into view. But it didn't. His bedroom still lay before him. He felt his breath catch in his chest. This was real. He was home.

"Soda?" Soda looked over sharply to see Pony standing in the doorway. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Soda dropped his gaze quickly and looked down at his hands. They were shaking. "Soda, are you okay?"

Soda deliberately curled his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. He wasn't sure what to say to Pony. He just kept staring down at his hands. He realized that he had been quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time when Pony carefully sat on the bed next to him. He knew he had to come up with something to say. "So… y-you graduated? High school?" His voice came out timid and unsure. He was still trying to get used to conversation.

Pony paused. Soda could sense him looking at him but he still didn't look up. "Yeah, I did," Pony said and Soda could hear the smile in his voice. "I did the whole cap and gown thing and everythin'." He hesitated. "We got pictures. You could look at them sometime."

Soda nodded. Four years with his family had been taken away from him. He could look at photos of what he missed, but he would never get that time back. "Yeah, that'd be good." He glanced over at Pony briefly. "What about college?"

"Yeah, I got into college," Pony said a bit eagerly. "I commute to the local community college. I'm almost done with my second year."

Soda smiled lightly. "That's really good, Pony. I'm real proud of you." He took in a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. There were several minutes of awkward silence where neither of them seemed to know what to say. "I'm sorry it's just… a lot to take in."

"I know," Pony said sympathetically. "It's okay though. You're here now. That's what matters."

"Thanks, Pony," Soda said. He paused. "It's been a really long day. I think I'm just gonna lay down for a while."

"Yeah, okay," Pony said, nodding at him. He reached out a hand as if to pat him on the shoulder but as Soda tensed he seemed to think better of it as he dropped his hand back down. He stood up and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Soda stared for a long time at the closed door. Suddenly his heart was racing. His breathing became shallower. This was silly… this was his bedroom. It shouldn't make it him nervous to be in here with the door shut. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans. Then suddenly without really thinking he was on his feet, hurrying over to the door. He turned the knob, feeling relieved as he turned easily in his hand. Slowly he pushed the door open just a crack, feeling himself breathe easier, the knot in his chest loosening. He turned and headed back to the bed. His bed. It was an odd feeling having things belong to him again. He kicked off his shoes and slowly lay down. He shifted around for a minute, finding it hard to find a comfortable position. It was strange how after three and a half years of sleeping on the ground he had gotten used to it. Even though he had longed for a bed while he had been a prisoner, when he had been at the military base the past few nights he had ended up sleeping on the floor next to the cot they had given him.

He really was exhausted. He hadn't slept at all on the bus ride here. It had turned out to be a very tense experience with everyone shoved into such a small space. He had felt trapped and bumping along the highway had toyed with his frayed nerves. So he had been awake for the past twenty-four hours. Despite not feeling completely comfortable in the bed, his exhaustion was getting the better of him as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

XxXxX

"He okay?" Darry asked as Pony walked back into the living room. Darry had settled himself in his recliner while Two-Bit had sat on the couch. Steve, as usual, had positioned himself standing up against the wall. He never seemed to like to get comfortable.

"Um… I think so," Pony said with a shrug. He sat down on the couch next to Two-Bit. "I mean… I dunno. He was pretty quiet. He said he was tired and was gonna lay down now."

"He slept all the way here," Steve pointed out.

"Yeah, but he's been through a lot," Darry said.

Pony shifted uncomfortably. "I saw… scars on his wrists," he said quietly. "On the way here when he held my hand, I could see them." Everyone was quiet and no one would quite look at him. Pony wasn't stupid; he had heard the stories about what kind of conditions the POWs lived in over there. But still, it just seemed like it should have been different for his brother. It was just so hard to wrap his head around and he couldn't help but ask the question. "D'you think they hurt him?"

In the silence that followed the question he heard a rustling coming from down the hall. Curious, Pony stood back up and walked back over so that he could peak down the hallway. He distinctly remembered closing Soda's door when he had left to try and give him some privacy, but now the door stood ajar.

"What is it?" Darry asked, looking over at him.

"I closed his door when I left," Pony said, turning back away from the hallway. "He opened it again. I guess he didn't like it closed." He fell back onto the couch heavily. "I didn't even think of that." It was hard to imagine his big brother confined to a cell for the past three and a half years, but that was the reality of the situation.

"It's gonna take a while to get used to this," Darry said. He sounded tired all of a sudden. "For him and for us. We just gotta give it some time."

"Do you think?" Pony asked looking over at him. "Do you think it'll get better with time?" They had all been so happy to see each other at the bus station, but here at the house an awkwardness that Pony had never felt with Soda had set in.

"Sure it will," Two-Bit spoke up easily. He was lounging lazily on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. "I mean, it ain't like he was just away on vacation for four years. But now that he's home I'm sure everythin'll be fine." Two-Bit had always been the optimistic one throughout all of this, the one helping Darry keep everyone together and even stepping up when Darry faltered as well. Strangely enough, even though his grief had been apparent, Two-Bit had been the steady one through all of this.

"We'll give him some space for now," Darry said. "We'll get him up to eat later. He's… lost a lot of weight."

Pony nodded. At a glance it had been easy to just be happy to see Soda as simply alive. But now it was sinking in how Soda hadn't exactly come back to them whole. This wasn't going to be an easy adjustment. They couldn't even begin to imagine what he had been through.

"How are we supposed to help him through this?" Pony asked quietly.

"We'll figure it out," Darry said.

"It ain't pretty," Steve suddenly mumbled. Pony looked over at him sharply; he had almost forgotten he was there. "What they do to the prisoners in the camps over there."

"What do you mean?" Pony asked slowly, not quite sure he really wanted to know the answer. "How do you know?"

Steve sighed and ran his hands over his face. His features had a very far off look to them. It was a look they had seen many times from Steve over the years when he was distracted. Pony had long ago begun suspecting that it meant Steve was remembering something from the war.

"Nothin'," Steve mumbled. He pushed himself off the wall and turned. "I'm goin' out for a smoke." He walked out, letting the door slam behind him.

Pony exchanged glances with Two-Bit and Darry, both with the same look in their eyes. When Pony got to his feet and hurried after Steve, he could hear Darry and Two-Bit right behind him. Outside they found that Steve was sitting on the top porch step, a lit cigarette already in his lips, that same faraway look in his eyes like he was somewhere else altogether. Two-Bit and Pony hung back while Darry walked down to the bottom of the porch stairs and turned back so that when he looked at Steve they were almost at eye level.

"Steve, if you know somethin' about what went on in those prison camps, we really need to know too," Darry said firmly. They had always been careful to not push Steve when it came to things related to the war. It was always a touchy topic for him and he never showed any desire to talk about it so the gang had respected that and left the subject alone. But the circumstances had changed. They couldn't have any secrets right now.

Steve looked up at Darry for a minute as if considering him. Then he glanced back at Two-Bit and Pony before resting his elbows on his knees and hunching over slightly. He inhaled deeply off the cigarette, exhaling smoke before he spoke.

"Guy came outta nowhere." He made no eye contact, staring down at his cigarette as he spoke. "Just stumbled outta the jungle one day. One of the rookies almost shot him." He made a sound like a laugh, but it had no humor in it. He looked up very suddenly, meeting Darry's eyes. "He was an American soldier who had escaped one of those prison camps. He was… in bad shape. Turns out he was only held for a few months, but from the way he talked about it, well, it was downright cruel. Inhuman even."

"What did he say?" Darry asked slowly.

"He said he was kept in a bamboo cage, his hands and feet tied. They would beat him and whip him if he did even the slightest thing wrong. He had these slashes on his back that were inflected and filled with puss. He said the man he had been captured with was beaten to death. He said they seemed to like to beat up on him more because he was weaker from his injuries." Steve shuddered at the memory as he took a long drag off his cigarette. "To think that Soda went through something like that for three and a half years… You know, he may never be the same again."

"But he's home now," Pony spoke up, unable to stay quiet any longer. "He survived and he's here with us."

Steve turned to look at him. Pony was surprised to see the emotion in his eyes. Clearly seeing that POW in the jungles of Vietnam and knowing that Soda had been through something worse shook him down to his core. "Just because he survived doesn't mean that he'll ever be okay with what happened."

Pony bit his lip as he shifted uncomfortably, his stomach twisting with anxiety. Everyone was silent for several minutes.

"Well, we're gonna do everythin' we can for him," Darry finally said steadily. "That's all we can do right now."

Steve nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "I'm just saying… don't expect it to be a cake walk."

"When has anythin' ever been a cake walk for us?" Two-Bit asked casually as he leaned back up against the house and lit up his own cigarette. "Which is a damn shame… 'cause I really like cake."

There was a split second of silence and then Pony felt a burst of laughter slip through his lips. Darry rolled his eyes as he cracked a smile. Even Steve made a snorting sound that was as close to a laugh as he had gotten in a while. Leave it to Two-Bit to lighten the mood. Despite the joking though, Two-Bit had made a valid point. The Greasers had never had it easy. Maybe that made them more prepared to handle tragedy. Maybe that would work in their favor and would help them to get Soda through this.

"What are you up to tomorrow, Two-Bit?" Darry asked.

"Just my usual tricks," Two-Bit said.

"Think you could come hang out at the house with Soda tomorrow?" Darry asked. "Me and Steve are workin' and Pony's got classes and I don't really think we should leave him by himself all day."

"Hey, I work too you know!" Two-Bit said indignantly, though he was smiling.

"Yeah, you tend bar for a few hours at night," Darry said, rolling his eyes. "You're the only one around during the day time."

Two-Bit laughed at that. "Yeah, I'll come hang out with him."

"Just take it easy with him, okay?" Darry said.

Tw-Bit rolled his eyes at that. "Glory, Darry, I ain't gonna challenge him to a wrestlin' match right off the bat or nothin'. Relax, I got this."

Darry smiled at him. "Yeah, I know."

It had been a very long road that they had traveled since Soda had left them for the war. It had been a hard journey that they had to take between coping, grieving and hoping, sometimes all at once. It had been the agony of not knowing that had tortured them. The relief they had all felt when they found out that Soda would be coming home was indescribable. But this was just the beginning of a different journey. This wasn't over yet.