So, this is going to be the last chapter for this story. I've been writing it for a very long time, and I've enjoyed it so much. Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed. I truly appreciate every one of you so much. I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. There is probably going to be a sequel, but I do not have it written yet :)

Counseling

The waiting room was cold, and I tugged down my sleeves over my wrists, staring out at the sunny day outside. I would have much rather been out there, maybe hanging around town with Two-Bit or reading in the lot with Johnny. I'd thought about not coming…about finding a place to hide out, but only for a second. The social worker wanted me to do this…she'd all but told us I had to, and I didn't want to cause Darry or Sodapop any more problems. They had enough to deal with, what with work and getting me enrolled in school and paying for everything. I wondered again if I should have stayed away…if that would have been easier on them, but Sodapop would get mad if I brought it up, so I kept quiet.

That morning, Darry had been gone by the time Soda shook me awake. We'd been the only ones home…I guess the guys had already cleared out, if anyone had stayed over. Rita had been staying with a friend, although she never told us who that friend was or where they lived. Two-Bit had been staying with Susie at their house most nights, keeping a close eye on her after everything that had happened. Johnny had been working most days, and I guess he slept at home. He seemed different…he hadn't had a black eye or a bruise ever since we got home, and I had a feeling he wasn't letting his parents get to him. He still stayed over sometimes, but he hadn't showed up in the middle of the night since we'd come back.

Steve was the one that slept over the most, and I figured things were pretty bad with his Dad. Dally, too, would stay over sometimes, but all in all, things had been pretty quiet. I'd been half dragged out of bed by Soda, grumbling and complaining the whole time, but Soda had just punched my shoulder, pointing me toward the kitchen table where he'd poured us cereal, and we'd eaten in relative silence. He'd asked once if I was okay and I'd lied and said yes. That was about it. I hadn't had any nightmares, so I was better rested than I'd been in a few days, but I still wanted to go back to bed and hide from all of this.

We'd taken the bus to the doctor's office across town since Darry had the truck and Steve was working. He probably would have lent us his car, but I hadn't wanted to ask, and Sodapop hadn't either. Instead, we caught the bus and rode in the back, everyone ignoring us except for a soc who kept staring at me, eyes narrow like he was confused. "You know that guy, Pone?" Sodapop had asked, and I'd glanced at the guy, meeting his eyes then sighing.

"Yeah. That's Randy." My brother had frowned, trying to place the name. "Bob's friend."

"Shit." Soda had muttered, glaring at the guy and throwing an arm around me. "He was there that night?"

"Yep. I think he was the one that poured a flask on my head." I'd shrugged, staring out the window without much interest. I had a blade in my pocket…I'd grabbed it at the last second. No way I was letting some soc screw thing up for us. Soda had squeezed me, glaring until Randy turned around.

"He better not get any funny ideas." Soda had grumbled, but Randy had gotten off at the next stop and I hadn't figured we'd run into him anytime soon. We'd gotten off the bus a while later when we'd finally reached the street where the doctor's office was, and Soda had led me inside, signing in with the lady at the front desk and then leading me to a seat.

We waited for about ten minutes, my arm against Soda's, him flipping through a magazine about cars without much interest. His leg was already bouncing, and I would have told him he didn't have to wait if I wasn't so scared. I knew I ought to tell him he could go somewhere…it was selfish of me to want him to wait. But I didn't say anything. My own leg started bouncing and I stared down at my clenched hands until he reached over, squeezing my knee. "You alright?" He asked, real soft. There was only one other person in the waiting room, a woman about our mom's age, and she was reading a book, not even looking up at us when my brother spoke.

"Yeah."

"It's gonna be fine, Pony." He assured me, patting my knee and sitting back.

"I know." I didn't know. But I knew he was trying to help, so I did my best to smile. He went back to his magazine, holding it open so I could read over his shoulder, and I skimmed the pages, looking at the cars until the receptionist called my name.

"Ponyboy Curtis? Doctor Song can see you now." I stood, glancing over at Soda who offered an encouraging smile, and I followed the lady through the door and into another room with a long, low sofa and a large, plush chair. In the chair was a tall woman with short cropped black hair, a pair of glasses perched on her nose. She smiled when I came in, standing and holding out a cold hand that I shook.

"Ponyboy Curtis? I'm Doctor Marissa Song. It's very nice to meet you." I blinked a few times in surprise, glancing back at the shut door behind me.

"Uh…you too, Doctor Song." I hadn't been expecting a woman. She was pretty, with big brown eyes and an easy smile, and she gestured for me to sit down on the sofa. I did, perching on the edge of it. The room was well lit with a huge window covered by sheer curtains on one wall. We were on the second floor, so no one could look in, but we could see the street from where we sat. In the middle of the room was a low table with a neat stack of paper in the center and a box of pencils beside it. I glanced around, taking in the picture or a cabin in the woods on one wall and another of horses in a meadow on another. The thought of Soda's horse flashed through my mind and was gone as soon as she spoke.

"Your social worker, Mrs. Rhodes, spoke to me before your hearing and told me a little about your situation. Why don't I tell you what I know, and we can go from there. How does that sound?" She spoke quietly, her knees crossed, her back against her chair, the picture of calm. She was at ease here, and I felt my shoulders untense just a little.

"Um, yeah…yes ma'am." I corrected, wondering if I was supposed to call her 'doctor' or 'ma'am.'

She smiled but didn't comment on the slip. Instead, she picked up a clipboard and put it in her lap, never once glancing down at it. "Your name is Ponyboy Curtis, and you are the youngest of three boys. Your oldest brother, Darrel has custody of both yourself and your brother which he gained after the death of your parents when you were thirteen. Your other brother's name is Sodapop and he works at a gas station. Your oldest brother roofs houses and works in a warehouse." She paused and I nodded. So far, so good. If she was going to do all the talking, this might not be so bad. Almost a year ago, you and your friend were at a park when you were attacked by a group of older boys. Your friend stabbed one of the boys and your social worker at the time, Ms. Patty Jones, had you taken from your brother until an investigation into your situation could be held. Instead of planning a hearing, however, she had you placed in a boy's home, then in a foster home where you lived with an abusive man and his wife, along with four other foster children. After the death of your foster sister, you ran away and were missing until a few weeks ago. Is this correct?" I nodded again. That was the gist.

"Yes, ma'am."

"After returning home, your brother was granted temporary custody once more, and you had a hearing this week where your older brother was once again granted custody over yourself and your brother who is will be eighteen next year. Correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now that I know about you, how about I tell you a little about myself. I was born in Nevada, and when I was four, we moved to Oklahoma. When I was seven, my father was killed in a car crash, and my mother died soon after. My older brother, my younger sister, and myself were all placed in foster care, first together, then we were moved to different homes. I was in an abusive home from the age of twelve until I turned seventeen and went to college. My older brother is currently a police officer in Kansas, and my younger sister is in Nevada finishing up her degree in medicine. I live here in Tulsa with my husband. I attended college in Nevada as well, but moved back when I got my degree. I have been practicing here for three years." She paused, and I forced my mouth to close.

She said it all very calmly, matter-of fact and unashamed. Five years. She'd been in an abusive foster home, maybe one as bad as Richard's, for five years. "Does it surprise you that I would tell people that?" She asked, and I shrugged, staring down at my lap uncomfortably. I didn't want to ask what the people there had done. It was none of my business. But more worrisome, I had a feeling that if I did ask, she might just tell me. "Since this is your first session, we'll keep it light. How's that sound?" I glanced back up and she smiled. "You're very quiet, Ponyboy. Are you always this quiet?"

"Yes, ma'am." I admitted, and the smile softened.

"That's alright. I'm never going to force you to talk, Ponyboy. I think it would make you feel better. I know it's hard to live with the things that happen to us sometimes, and as hard as it can be to talk about them, it's also a good way to let some of it go." I just watched her, not about to start pouring my heart out to some stranger, no matter how nice she was. She smiled again, though, nodding. "Why don't you tell me about your big brothers? The oldest one, Darrel. Is he the one in the waiting room?"

"No. That's Sodapop. Darry has to work."

"I see." She nodded thoughtfully like I'd said something important. "Darrel is six years older than you. Do the two of you get along?"

I hesitated, not sure what the consequences of these questions was going to be. Would she report back to the social worker if I said no? If I was honest and said we used to fight sometimes, but now we were so scared of me getting taken away it was like we were walking on eggshells. She seemed to notice my hesitation and clasped her hands in her lap. "Are you aware, Ponyboy, of doctor patient confidentiality?"

"Um…kind of?" She nodded.

"Almost anything you tell me in this room will be kept confidential. Now, if you tell me that your older brother is abusive in any way, I am required to report that. However, if you tell me that your older brother yells sometimes, or that you fight, or that you think he's unfair, well, that's part of a normal relationship with any parent or sibling. Unless your older brother is abusive or cannot care for you, you will not be taken away from him. Do you understand?" I nodded, letting out a breath, and she relaxed once more. "So, do you and your brother get along?"

"We didn't use to, but we do now." I told her, being honest.

"What kinds of things did you fight about?"

"Uh…he'd get on me sometimes. When I was late getting home or didn't get good grades. He was worried, though." I was quick to defend him. "He's gotta work all the time and he was worried about me." She nodded, her eyes gentle on mine.

"Are you close to your oldest brother?"

"I wasn't…" I admitted. "But we're closer now." I smiled, glad it was true, and she nodded again.

We talked for about thirty minutes, mostly stuff about Darry and Soda, and she asked a few things about my parents. When the half hour was up, she gave me her card with her number on it, and told me that we'd be meeting every week for a few months, until she determined that it was no longer necessary. I shook her hand again and met Sodapop out in the waiting room.

He jumped up when I stepped into the room and throwing the magazine down, dropping an arm around my shoulders and squeezing. "Well, how was it?" He asked as we headed toward the hallway where the elevators would take us down to the ground floor.

"Uh…fine." I shrugged. I didn't give him anything else, though, and he didn't ask. I figured he wouldn't, not for a while. That was okay, though. One day, I'd be able to talk to him about it. Just watching Doctor Song, listening to her tell her story so easily…I knew one day, if she could tell strangers about what had happened to her, I'd be able to talk to my brothers about everything that had happened to me. The thought made my chest a little lighter, and I grinned at Soda as we stood in the elevator. He ruffled my hair, but we were quiet until we reached the sidewalk where Soda began telling me all about a tuff car he'd found in that magazine and I pretended to listen.

The house was quiet when we got back, and even though I'd planned on reading or something for a while, or maybe going out to find Johnny, Soda was antsy and wanted me to come along to the DX where he planned on visiting Steve and asking if he wanted to go to the races or something that night. Since he'd sat in a doctor's office for half an hour for me, I decided I'd go along, and followed him out the door once more and to the DX.

It wasn't a long walk, and it was nice to be outside in the warmth again, even though I quickly started getting too hot. Still, I kept my sleeves pulled down and even though Soda glanced at my arms every once in a while, he didn't ask me to pull them up again. I'd been real careful about keeping covered up for the last few weeks, and no one bugged me about it even though it was real hot out. They all knew why I kept my sleeves pulled down, I guess, and didn't want to push me.

Steve was around back, working on a car, and Sodapop went to find him while I waited around out front, assuring him that I was fine with waiting. He shrugged, promising me we'd find Two-Bit or go visit Johnny as soon as he was done. I started to remind him that I didn't need a babysitter, but he was already headed around back, so I decided to have that conversation later. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I leaned against the building, watching the greasers that walked by. Inside, one of Soda's coworkers was working the register and gave me a half wave. I waved back, nodding to him, and turned back to the street just as a couple of guys headed my way, both glancing around and leaving the sidewalk for the DX parking lot.

I glanced around, dropping my eyes and shoving my hands in my pockets. Soda was within shouting distance and Steve would come running too. The guy inside would probably help me out if I needed, too, so I wasn't too worried. The white guy was leading the way, looking around, and his darker skinned buddy had his hands shoved in his pockets, looking kind of nervous. I dropped my eyes, moving away from the door, but they were coming toward me and I gripped my blade in my pocket, heart racing.

"Well, well, well. I thought you'd be a little harder to find." My head jerked up at the voice and found myself face to face with James. He was grinning, arms crossed, and my jaw dropped open. Behind him, Markus smirked, dropping his folded hands and reaching out, clapping me on the shoulder.

"Hey, Mike." He greeted, holding out a hand that I shook. He squeezed, shaking his head. "Ponyboy, huh?"

I snorted, nodding. "Yeah. Did Mr. Williams tell you?"

"Yep. What kind of name is Ponyboy, huh?"

"The hell's your problem, man?" We all turned as Sodapop turned the corner, Steve on his heels. Steve was covered in grease, a smear of it across his forehead, and I fought back a laugh. Soda and Steve moved in front of me, staring James and Marcus down, and I realized that they had no idea who these guys were. I guess they just saw two strangers harassing me about their name.

"My dad was real creative." I told Marcus, jerking my head towards Soda.

"I see." He nodded, watching my brother and his friend warily. Before I could explain to Soda and Steve what was going on, James held out a hand to Soda.

"You must be the soft drink. I'm James." Soda froze, then turned to me with wide-eyes. I nodded, jerking my chin toward his hand, which Soda took.

"Oh…you're James!" He shook my brother's hand, grinning and nodding.

"Sure am. Figured we'd come see where the kid lives when he ain't crashing on my couch. Where's the little one?" He asked me.

"Work. He got a job at a grocery store here. Said your uncle helped him out." Marcus nodded, his wary eyes still on Sodapop and Steve. "Guys, this is Marcus. He's Mr. Williams's nephew. Marcus, this is my brother Sodapop and his friend, Steve." Soda held out a hand, then Steve. "You guys staying?"

"For a couple of days." James shrugged, glancing over at Marcus. "Thought I'd hunt Dallas down and have a talk about sending kids to come live with me." Steve chuckled and Soda threw his arm around my shoulder.

"We can hunt him down for you. I know where he'll be for dinner tonight, anyway. Besides, our couch is free and our big brother's going to want to meet you."

"Ah, yes, the big one that roofs houses?" James asked. Soda grinned.

"You dig alright man. Come on." He jerked his head toward the house. "I'll call Darry when we get to the house. Steve, you gonna come by after work."

"You know I love free food, man." Soda knocked him upside the head and the two parted ways, him leading the three of us toward our house. I hung back a little, Marcus walking with my brother and telling him about our first visit to the church while James walked beside me, glancing around and then down at me.

"How's it going, kid?" He asked, lifting an eyebrow. "You look like you've been eating at least."

I shrugged. "Yeah…I'm fine."

"You get everything here sorted out?"

"For the most part."

"Good." He nodded, looking around. "Never been this far south." He observed.

"I'd never been that far north before," I told him.

"I see you're still covering up." He nodded toward my arms and I nodded as we reached our street. I'd kind of hoped we wouldn't have to talk about that. Soda was laughing up ahead, and Marcus nodded, gesturing with his hands and saying something I didn't quite catch. A couple of people on the street gave us kind of weird looks, their eyes on Marcus and my brother, but I ignored them. "Show them your arms?"

"I showed Soda and Darry," I told him, not mentioning that I'd only showed them once, and then I'd been sure to cover up ever since.

"What about your back?" I sighed, glad to see him but wishing he'd let this go.

"Yeah." Once. At the doctor's office, only to Soda, and not once since. But he didn't need to know that. James lifted his hands as if in surrender, grinning a little.

"Alright, kid. I'll drop it. You don't need to be ashamed of it is all I'm saying." I shrugged again and he put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing a little. "You doing okay kid? Really?"

I thought about it, thinking about the doctor and the consoler, the hearing and the days I'd spent at home with my family. Things weren't perfect yet. Heck, some things were still pretty bad. I worried about fighting with Darry again, and if those socs would come after me. I worried about going back to school and when the questions from Dr. Song actually got hard. But I was home. I was with my family again and Darry had custody and my friends had my back. "Yeah. I'm doing okay."

Soda held open our front door then, and I held back, James going ahead of me as we all stepped into our living room. Soda headed off to call Dally and try to track him down and I dropped into Darry's recliner as my friends took the sofa, both of them ready to tell Soda all about my time in New York. And I sat back, ready to listen. Between my new friends and my big brother, I was exactly where I wanted to be.

The End

Thank you so much for reading. There will be a sequel, but it might be a little while :) In the meantime, I have lots of other stories planned.