Disclaimer: I Do Not Own The Outsiders

Margaret Curtis was not a wealthy woman. She never had more than a few hundred dollars to her name at any given time and she certainly had no fancy clothes or jewelry. The only she owned were the locket she'd taken from home, her engagement and wedding rings, coated in silver at best, fake at worst. She did not care, they were beautiful, engraved invisibly with all the hard work her husband Darrel had put into earning them.

Her house was small and cluttered. The kitchen roof leaked when it rained, and the front steps creaked when they were walked on. There were stains on the carpeting and the wallpaper was pealing in the kitchen and master bedroom. Things were always broken and knocked over in the hustle and bustle of busy young men tumbling, running and wrestling without watching where they were going.

She did not have much, it was true but when she stepped through her front door on that cool October night, she felt as though she were stepping into a palace and if only for a moment, she was rich.

Her boys, by far her greatest treasure and certainly worth more than any jewelry, were fast asleep, sprawled out on Darrel's old arm chair and the worn sofa set. She smiled despite herself. They were dressed in Halloween costumes, an idea she was sure was Sodapop's.

Darry had outgrown dressing up by the time he was twelve and she doubted given their circumstances, he would have gone for such a frivolity on his own. Ponyboy was too easily embarrassed to ever even think of going out dressed like that in public without being coerced.

Sodapop on the other hand, was a ham, forever loving the limelight and trying new and crazy things. He had always loved getting dressed in costumes, be it for school Halloween or even the church Christmas pageant. He would have made the cutest little baby angel, had Teresia Marks not gotten so exasperated with trying to wrangle him. He'd gotten sick anyways, throwing up the too many Christmas cookies he had snuck from the back room.

He'd sat with Darrel in the audience, while she'd helped in back. Darry had been an adorable little shepherd, in his father's bathrobe but it was Ponyboy who had stolen the show. He'd been all of six months old, playing the baby Jesus. She was amazed he had not cried through the whole thing, fussy as he was. She had a sneaking suspicion a little bourbon had been involved there but she never did ask Darrel about it. Ponyboy had always had such a hard time sleeping in those days and as a result, so did they.

He was so much bigger now, they all were. Darry, looked terribly uncomfortable in the chair, his makeup rubbed off. How Sodapop had managed to get his brother to dress as Herman Munster was beyond her, but she was glad he had. She reached for her oldest son's cheeks, wiping off some of the green. Even in the dark she could see the dark circles, Soda had not managed to hide. He looked older than 20. So much older.

She was proud of her oldest. He had really stepped up in the past year. But then again, Darry had always been a hard worker. She'd never known him to slack in anything. He'd never seen the point of doing anything if he was not going to give 110%. If it wasn't perfect or near perfect it wasn't worth his time. He had spent a whole winter and spring working so he could afford Gymnastic classes at the Y when he was sixteen and had practiced in the yard for hours each day. He'd been the same way with football and with school too.

She kissed him on the forehead, but he did not stir. She was not even sure if he could feel it anyways.

Out of all her sons, Darry was the most like her. They had the same quick tempers and no-nonsense attitudes, but he looked almost just like his father. So much so now, that it was almost painful because Darrel had always carried himself lightly, never letting his boys see how heavy a weight he was carrying., She could see that weight on Darry's shoulders and it hurt her deeply. She was happy to see him have some fun, if only for a minute.

She leaned into his ear. "I'm so proud of you." And she was, she really was.

She turned her attention to the couch where Pony and Soda lay, Soda half sitting up with his head propped on the sofa's arm, and Ponyboy with his head in his brother's lap. She wished she could still hold a camera because it was a sight that both warmed her and made her want to laugh.

Soda still had his green hat on and she could not be sure if he was trying to be Robin Hood or Peter Pan. Either one was just as likely as the other. He was as daring, handsome and reckless as Errol Flynn and as care free and childish as Peter Pan. She was not at all surprised to see him in tights. Soda would do just about anything for a laugh, and she was sure he'd used those tights to give more than one of the girls he'd seen a show.

Soda always was a flirt. He'd been sent to the principal's office for letting girls chase and catch him for kisses when he was the ripe old age of eight years old. He was her charmer, her little sunshine boy. His temper was more like his father's, as quick to come as it was to leave. More dangerous than Darry's had been but far more fleeting. Darry had been the king of temper tantrums as a toddler, but Soda usually gave up his flares of anger before getting into too much trouble. It was only when he got older and found the fun of fighting, did she ever worry. That boy had more energy than a battery and he didn't always find the right way to expel it.

It looked like that night, on the other hand had been one of his more productive ventures. She laughed, leaning over to kiss his forehead, setting the hat he'd been wearing on the ground. She ran her hands through his blond hair so like her own. "My sunshine boy." She said softly. "I'm proud of you too."

She knew that he had left school, to work full time and help his brother. She'd always wanted him to finish school. She'd wanted it for all her boys but with Soda it had always been a struggle. Because of his excess energy, he'd spent more time in the principal's office than either of his brothers combined. The teachers always complained about him. "Sodapop Curtis is lazy." "That boy's a menace." "He's stupid." She'd heard it all. She'd yell at him too sometimes and be as angry with herself as those teachers afterwards. Soda had tried so hard to learn to read. He'd spent hours with Darry, herself and his father trying to get the hang of numbers. He was far from lazy.

"You're not dumb either." She whispered this to him softly, playing with his hair, wishing he could hear her. Sodapop was not book smart but he could take things and put them back together better than anyone she knew, even his father and brother, and he was even better at putting people back together.

She looked at his left arm, draped protectively around his little brother. Sodapop did not know books but he knew his little brother inside and out, and that in her mind was all the more important.

Her youngest was dressed as some kind of pirate, his bandanna sloping down to reveal bleach blond hair fading to red. Had it been beating; her heart would break at the sight of him. He'd been through more in the past year than most adults had been through in a lifetime.

She bent down to her knees and peered at his young face. He was her baby and though she loved all of her boys equally, that made Ponyboy special. He had been such a small baby, always sick with ear and throat infections. He'd been the hardest to get to sleep. He was shy and quiet, always trying to act like his older brothers. It used to make her laugh.

She kissed him on the cheek. His eyes fluttered open and stared at her. They widened as if he could see her. She shouldn't have been surprised at this. He'd always been a sensitive boy.

"Mom?" he asked softly. Oh how she had missed the sound of his voice, not yet touched by puberty.

She smiled at him, putting a finger to her mouth and motioning to the kitchen. He slipped out from under Soda and followed her, eyes wide.

He'd grown at least two inches since she had last seen him. They were the same height now. "Am I dreaming?" he asked. His face was somber.

She shook her head and shrugged. "Happy Halloween." She said softly.

He reached out his hand and grasped her curls. His eyes welled up with tears and he leaned into her, letting out a soft sob. "Mom."

She wrapped her arms around him and held him. "Oh Ponyboy." He was shivering. "Sshhh," she whispered. "It's okay."

She pulled him away from her and wiped his eyes. "Look at you," she said, "you've gotten so big. And you've been so brave. I am so proud of you, of all three of you."

"Mom…"

She cupped his cheek. "That was a very brave thing you did in Windrixville." She said. "I know it hasn't been easy, but your dad and I. We couldn't be prouder, really. We love you so much. I want you to know that."

Ponyboy looked at the floor. "You know about that?" he asked softly. She laughed in spite of herself.

"Oh Pony, have you or your brothers ever been able to hide anything from me?" They had certainly tried but they'd never been able to pull a fast one on her. She'd put up with the likes of little Dally Winston. Nothing her boys did could ever surprise her.

Her son smiled, and that smile lit the world for her. She'd never been rich, but she had her treasure and a piece of that was standing now before her. Broken and tarnished by the last year but just as beautiful as ever, as wonderful as the two treasures sleeping in the living room. One as solid and dependable as marble and one brighter than any diamond. Her little piece of gold, he stood before her.

The clock struck three. It was time to go. She sighed. "I have to go sweetie, but I'll try to come back next year, okay?"

Her son nodded. "Is Dad with you?" he asked. Darrel hadn't come this time, or if he had he'd stuck to the shadows. These meetings were harder for him. "Not this year, but he's been watching and he's proud as punch of you three."

She looked to the living room. "He'd like you to go easier on Darry if you could though. He hasn't had as much practice at this as your dad."

Ponyboy rubbed his eyes and nodded. "Yes Ma'am." The clock struck again.

Ponyboy Curtis woke up a few hours later, in the kitchen, slumped in a chair, his mother's knitted afghan around his shoulders. Sodapop padded in and looked sideways at him. "Did you have a nightmare kiddo?" he asked, heading towards his little brother, eyes full of concern.

Ponyboy clutched the blanket. He could smell his mother on it, as if she had just been there. Had he really just been dreaming? She'd sat him in the chair and wrapped the blanket around him before disappearing. Hadn't she? He could almost still feel her lips on his cheek, as she'd whispered, "I love you."

He shook his head. "No, it was a good one."

Just then Darry padded in, stretching his muscles and heading to the coffee pot. "You okay kiddo?"

Ponyboy nodded. "Yeha, I..." he bit his lip. "Can we go see mom and dad today?"

Darry turned around, sharing a glance with Soda. Soda nodded.

"Sure," Darry said, stretching once more. "But I'm going to shower first and you both better change. We look ridiculous."

The End!