Author's Note: Hello again! So, first of all: thank you to everyone who saw my post last week and responded with your thoughts, it was greatly appreciated! There were a couple votes for this to just be a one shot, but the majority of you seemed interested in seeing the more in depth version of this, so this is going to be a short multi-chapter story, probably around three to five chapters, depending on how it goes. I hope it lives up to expectations!

For those who didn't see the post last week: I know I probably said at some point that I was trying to get away from the Vietnam War stories, but I can't help it, I'm fascinated! Haha. And in any case, this is MUCH different than any of the other stories that I've already done, so hopefully you still find it interesting as well to look at this from this new angle.

Some quick background on how this idea came about: I realized that because we know the all the Greasers' birthdays (I got them off of the Outsiders Wiki, assuming those are accurate), it is actually possible to know what their draft numbers would have been since numbers were assigned based on the day you were born. So, just for fun, I looked them up. And I was NOT happy with what I found. But I challenged myself to imagine what this scenario would have been like. So, arguably, this will be my most realistic look at the Vietnam War draft. I hope I do it some justice.

Here we go!

They Were Only Numbers

Chapter One

283; 273; 101; and 28.

Ponyboy had committed those four numbers to memory. He recited them before going to bed each night. He ran through them first thing when he woke up in the morning. He found those numbers flitting through his brain several times a day while he was at school, while he was doing his homework, while he horsed around with his friends.

283; 273; 101; and 28.

It was amazing how much those four little numbers had effected their lives in such a short amount of time.

On the evening December 1st, 1969, all five Greasers had gathered at the Curtis house. Both Soda and Steve called off work, Two-Bit rearranged his work schedule, and Darry got out of work early in order to be there. Even if they refused to take this seriously, they still gravitated toward each other during this time, unconsciously aware that their time together could be cut short, despite the fact that they were all too stubborn to actually admit it.

"Betcha Steve gets the lowest number," Two-Bit laughed as he dropped onto the couch.

"Big talk, can you back it up?" Steve demanded as he looped an arm around the back of Two-Bit's neck and pulled him off the couch.

"Watch the coffee table," Darry said absent mindedly as he walked into the room.

"You okay, Dar?" Soda asked as he slid the coffee table out of the way of the wrestling match now in full swing on their living room floor with his foot.

"Just a long day," Darry said as he sat in his recliner, rubbing the base of his neck where it met the shoulder, his fingers kneading deep into the muscle.

"Ah, goddamnit, Steve!" Two-Bit yelped as Steve slammed him to the floor and pinned him.

"Say it!" Steve demanded.

"Uncle, uncle! You win!" Two-Bit said even as he was laughing.

"Damn right, you sit on the floor," Steve said smugly as he got up and took Two-Bit recently vacated seat on the couch.

Pony took the spot on the far end of the couch from Steve, leaving Soda his usual spot in the middle. Two-Bit didn't seem too concerned about the seating arrangement since he didn't challenge anyone else for their spot.

It was almost comical how light the atmosphere was in the house before it happened. Jokes were made about it, and the truth of the matter was that was easier than taking this seriously. The American involvement in the Vietnam War had been going on since 1961, and the idea of implicating the draft had been tossed around many times by politicians over the years. Even with the announcement of the draft and the lottery, it was hard to believe any of it was actually going to happen, or if it did that it was going to really affect any of them. It just wasn't something that they could really wrap their minds around until it was too late.

"It's almost time," Darry said, glancing down at his watch. "Two-Bit, can you get the T.V.?"

Two-Bit moved forward and snapped on the little black and white television. He flipped a few channels until he found the one they were looking for and then he settled back so that the rest of them could see.

During the announcements at the beginning of the program, Two-Bit, Steve, and Soda were all still cracking jokes about who among them would be picked first. Pony was shifting uncomfortably as he tried to watch the proceedings, starting to feel the beginnings of nervousness working into his stomach. Darry was also silent, watching the screen with a serious expression. It wasn't until they actually started drawing dates did the jokes from the others finally die down.

Pictured on the screen was a large glass container that contained 366 opaque capsules, each one fitting easily into the hand of the older, bespectacled man who was picking them. A man that was clearly too old to be worried about being drafted himself. Inside of each capsule was a slip of paper with a date written on it. They already knew that the lottery was based on birthdates. Once a date was drawn, it would be assigned a number, and all those who were born on that day would have that number in the draft.

There were chuckles and ribs as the first ten dates were drawn. Lude remarks were made when the fourth date called was February 14th – Valentine's Day. Then the first ten turned into twenty.

And then, all at once, reality to came crashing down on all of them.

The 28th date that was pulled out of a capsule from the glass container was June 5th. Once the date was read, it was as if all the air had been forcibly sucked out of the room, leaving a harsh vacuum in its wake. Everyone's expressions turned grim, and they tried not to look at him, but it was hard not to.

Two-Bit's draft number was 28 out of 366. What were the goddamn odds?

Two-Bit had gone deathly still. A minute later he gasped in a breath, almost as if he had forgotten to breathe. He was staring vacantly at the television, like he wasn't quite clear what had just happened. Steve let out a string of curse words under his breath. Soda reached forward and gave Two-Bit's shoulder a squeeze, though Two-Bit didn't react to it. None of the rest offered up any words of comfort, because they all knew that there was no real comfort to give.

Suddenly this process went from something to be joked about and made fun of to something that was painfully real and ready to tear their lives apart. It was all but guaranteed that Two-Bit's number would be called up in the very near future, and none of them really seemed to know how to react to this new shift in their lives. It was a devastating blow to know that this happy-go-lucky guy who was always smiling and cracking jokes would soon be shipped halfway around the world in order to kill people. And there wasn't anything any of them could do to change that fact.

Pony suddenly thought back to a short story that he had read when he was in high school a few years ago. It was called "The Lottery" and written by a woman named Shirley Jackson. The story revolved around a small town that held an annual lottery. As the story progressed, everyone talks about who will win the lottery as they prepare for it like they would a big celebration. But at the end of the story, it is revealed that the "winner" didn't get a prize or money like you would expect. Instead, the person was stoned to death.

Pony suddenly felt like he was a part of that story with the implication of this draft, suddenly terrified that this lottery would take his close friends and family away from him.

The five boys lapsed into silence as they now listened carefully to each birthdate that was picked. Whenever the birth month of one of their own was called they all held their breath until the day was announced, letting out a sigh of relief each time it wasn't one of theirs.

As more and more dates were assigned numbers and none of them corresponded to any of the draft eligible boys in that room, the tension began to lessen. Perhaps the rest of them would be lucky. Perhaps only one of them would end up with a low number.

An odd, palpable tension passed through the room when November 9th was announced. Dally's draft number would have been 80, a number that was likely to be called within the next couple months. Pony honestly wasn't sure if Dally would have been upset about that or not. He often seemed to be a rebel without a cause… perhaps this would have given him a cause.

Pony was crunching numbers in his head, trying to reason his way out of a panic attack over who might be picked next. He wondered what the odds were that they would call even half of the draft numbers to fight in the war. Half of 366 was 183. If the rest of them all ended up with numbers higher than 183 then it was more likely that their numbers wouldn't even be called. That wasn't too much to hope for… right?

But apparently that was indeed too much to hope for. Because the 101st date that was called was January 5th.

As soon as the man on the television announced the date, Pony made a choking noise in the back of his throat, his airways constricting as his heart twisted painfully in his chest. No. No, it couldn't be. It was impossible. It had to be a mistake.

But, of course, it wasn't a mistake, which was made achingly clear as the date was so clearly put up on the board that they were using to keep track of the draft numbers. Darry's draft number was 101. While he wouldn't be within the first 100 called to service, it was still uncomfortably possible that Darry's number would be called within the next year. And if it was called, he would have to leave them to go fight in a war halfway around the world. Just the thought caused bile to crawl up Pony's throat, and he had to thickly swallow it back down.

Pony looked over at Darry. He was no longer looking at the television, but inside was staring across the room toward the front door, seemingly at nothing in particular. He had a strange look on his face, like he was thinking very hard about something. Almost as if he was calculating something. Pony couldn't help but wonder what was going through his head.

"This is such bullshit!" Steve suddenly raged, launching himself off the couch. "Who the hell are they to just decide who goes and who stays?"

"Steve…" Soda started.

"No, this is bullshit!" Steve repeated loudly. "We don't even know why the hell we're fighting a war on the other side of the goddamn world, and they want us to drop everythin' and go fight for them? Why aren't those damn suits in Washington the ones goin' over there and fightin' their own stupid fuckin' war?"

"Steve, sit down," Darry said in a surprisingly calm tone. Though when Pony looked over at him he noticed that Darry wasn't quite looking directly at Steve. "You throwin' a fit ain't gonna change anythin'."

Steve glared at Darry and opened his mouth to retort, but then he seemed to think better of it. Darry had this calm yet defeated look on his face that even Steve wasn't immune to. Steve huffed, but did as he was told as he plopped back down on the couch once more, his gaze turning back to the television screen. If looks could kill, that T.V. would be in flames.

All through the outburst, Pony had been careful to continue to listen to the dates that were still being pulled, the nameless man on the television oblivious to Steve's rage. They still had several more dates to be concerned about.

In his shock over Darry's draft number, Pony only vaguely registered when March 1st was called. Johnny's draft number would have been 108.

As they lapsed into silence once more, Pony couldn't help but think about how if this been a few years earlier when he and Soda were both underage, Darry wouldn't have been eligible to be drafted since he was their only caretaker. But Ponyboy was now eighteen and Sodapop was twenty-one. Neither of them could claim to be dependent on Darry anymore.

And Pony didn't realize until that moment just how badly he still wanted to be dependent on Darry.

It was also strange to think that Darry had come so close to being ineligible for the draft, even without being Pony and Soda's legal guardian. The cutoff for this draft lottery was 1944. Darry had been born in 1945. Just two more years and Darry would have been twenty-six and considered too old to be drafted.

So many things could have worked in their favor to prevent this. But of course they didn't. Of course the Greasers didn't catch any breaks.

The thought that Darry would have to leave them was hard to even comprehend. Darry had always looked out for them, even before they had lost their parents. And when the time came, he had given up everything in order to keep them together as a family. Not only that, but he was everyone's big brother, not just Pony and Soda's. He was the solid foundation that they all clung to in times of hardship. He was the one they turned to when times were tough. As painful as it was to think of Two-Bit to be forced to leave them, it was excruciating to think of the same being done to Darry.

The lottery continued at an even pace, seemingly myopic to all the lives that were changed each time they pulled out a new date.

Ponyboy felt his breath catch in his throat as he heard his own birthdate. Even though Pony was eighteen years old, he had just barely missed being included in this draft. This lottery only included those who were born between 1944 and 1950. Pony had been born in 1951. Even so, when July 22nd was announced as the 153rd number in the lottery, he couldn't help but feel his stomach drop as he squeezed his eyes shut.

There was a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Pony," came Soda's soft voice. "You're not eligible to be drafted, remember? You're still too young."

"I know," Pony said hoarsely as he opened his eyes again.

How was that fair though? He was eighteen years old; he had registered for the draft on his eighteenth birthday just like everyone else. That was over four months ago. He wasn't quite sure why this lottery didn't include him.

They were all quiet as the lottery continued. As they passed 200, Pony began to feel some semblance of relief. These numbers were much less likely to be called up. April 15th was the 273rd date that was pulled. Steve let out a string of quiet swear words in response to his number. It was only a few minutes later when October 8th was pulled, making Soda's number 283. These were both numbers that were very unlikely to be called. Soda and Steve both had an extremely good chance of not being called to service.

After Soda's number was assigned, Darry stood up from his seat and went over to the television, leaning over and snapping off the set in the middle of drawing the next date. None of the rest of the dates mattered to the boys in that room.

The room was absolutely silent, no sign of any of the joking that had been present when they had sat down. Pony looked over at Soda, who was starting down at his hands. 283. Steve was leaning back on the couch, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared daggers at the now blank television screen. 273. Darry had returned to his recliner, though he was sitting on the edge as he leaned forward, taking deep breaths as if trying to calm himself without drawing attention to himself. 101. Two-Bit hadn't moved since his birthdate had been drawn, sitting on the floor and staring wide eyed as the wall behind the television. 28.

283; 273; 101; and 28.

Those four numbers now corresponded with the four draft eligible boys sitting in that room. It would be a long time before Pony would be able to look at any of them and not immediately think of their draft number. The government had reduced these four people to nothing more but numbers to be called to service.

They all sat silently for a long time, none of them knowing what to do with this new information they had been given. And looking around at the shocked expressions around him, Pony couldn't help but feel like the odd man out. It was a very strange feeling knowing that he was the only one here that currently couldn't be called into service. Even Soda and Steve with their higher numbers ran the risk, however unlikely it was, of suddenly being called to fight in a war they barely knew anything about. And suddenly with that thought, Pony felt guilt gnawing away inside of him.

"I'm goin' out for some air," Two-Bit suddenly announced, his voice cracking. A second later he he was pulling himself to his feet, as if he body needed that extra second to catch up with his mind.

"I'll come with you," Soda said, starting to stand.

"No," Two-Bit snapped in a way that was so out of character for him that Pony's eyes immediately went to Steve, thinking for a moment that he was the one that had spoken. Then Two-Bit sighed heavily, drawing Pony's attention back to him. The weight of this lottery rested so obviously on him in the way his shoulders hunched and the way his eyes couldn't quite focus on any of them. "I just… I just need to process this on my own for a while," he mumbled, shoving his hands deep in his pockets as he turned and headed out the door and into the frigid December night without so much as grabbing his coat.

It would be three days until any of them saw Two-Bit again.

That night changed the course of each of their lives forever. Each of them would be defined by their draft numbers for as long as this war lasted. Accepting that would be no easy task for these Greasers. But it was the hand that life dealt them. Whether they liked it or not, this was their new reality. And somehow they were have to find a way to cope with it.

283; 273; 101; and 28.

Author's Note: Okay, so first off, I HATE, LOATHE, and ABHOR that Two-Bit's draft number was so ridiculously low! In all of the "Outsiders involved in the Vietnam War" scenarios that I worked out in my head, Two-Bit was NEVER drafted to fight in Vietnam. My headcanon of him not going was only rivaled by my headcanon of Darry not going. And look how well that turned out. *facepalm* So you can imagine my distress. But I do like how this has pushed me out of my comfort zone of being so focused on Soda, so hopefully this is going to come across as a really interesting – and dare I say educational? – story!

HISTORICAL FACTS: For those who may be interested, all of the dates here (as well as all dates in this story going forward) are, to the best of my googling abilities, true to historical accuracy. The first draft for the Vietnam War did occur on December 1st, 1969. That first draft was indeed only for men that had been born between 1944 and 1950, so it was true that even though Ponyboy would have been eighteen at the time, he still wouldn't have been eligible to be drafted at that point.