Sometimes, Soda muses to himself during a rare moment of snatched tranquillity, he misses the old Darry. The Darry that used to value football above everything else and spend his wages on aftershave and records.

Most of the time, Soda forgets this old Darry ever existed because he seems so different, so far removed from the brother that sets Soda's curfew and makes him take his turn at washing the dishes. But sometimes, just sometimes, out of the blue, Soda will remember.

Usually it catches him off guard, like a pinprick or pinch that makes you jerk to attention but doesn't really hurt. Like the time him and Steve were driving around town, being everywhere but going no where and, as Soda stretched his arm out the window and let the air slip through his splayed fingers like silk, he realised Darry really would've liked that feeling.

Or the time Soda took Sandy's hand and led her, giggling and blushing, to a secret spot under the bleachers where prying eyes would never find them. As Sandy's warm, moist lips pressed clumsily against his, Soda suddenly remembered Darry showing him this very spot two years earlier. "Linda Jones, Margaret Robinson, Sarah Keele, Lisa Scott…" Darry had reeled off name after name, before winking at Soda and leaving him open-mouthed to imagine the possibilities and potential the secluded spot offered.

Sometimes Soda missed the way Darry used to laugh with his head tipped back and his ribs heaving. Now, if Darry laughed at all, it was a short sharp bark that would be quickly stifled, like Darry felt he wasn't supposed to laugh anymore. Soda missed the way Darry would jab him with his elbow whenever a pretty girl walked past and the way he would make his eyebrows wriggle suggestively until Soda was laughing so hard he could hardly breathe. Soda missed watching Darry getting ready to go out, the traditional throw-away quip of "Don't wait up!" which used to keep Soda awake until the early hours of the morning just to spite him.

Now that he thought about it, Soda missed a lot of things about Darry. He couldn't help feeling that he'd lost three people that life-shattering night of the accident, rather than just the two listed on the police report. And he worried, sometimes so much it made his stomach hurt, that he'd never get his big brother back. On several occasions he'd considered voicing his concerns to Ponyboy, just to share the burden, but every time he tried, the words lodged in his throat and eventually he gave up.

It was different for Ponyboy anyway, the six years that separated him and Darry had always limited their relationship to big brother/little brother, whereas Soda and Darry had been friends as well as brothers. At least, that's what Soda liked to think. And now Soda was afraid that Pony had completely forgotten the old Darry. Now that Darry had become the checker of homework, washer of clothes, setter of curfew, catcher of swears and substitute parent, it was too hard for Pony to make that link between past and present. Like when you see an old photo of your parents when they were young, and you stare and stare until your vision blurs, but you still can't make the image fit into the mould of the mother than bandages scrapes or the father that taught you to ride a bike no matter how hard you try.

All this thinking has made Soda's head ache, so he stands up from the porch step and brushes down him pants before turning back towards the house. Through the screen door he can see Pony and Darry sitting on the couch. Pony is leaning heavily against Darry, sagging into his side like he's asleep, although Soda suspects that he's still awake because Pony never sleeps through the novelty of late night TV; Darry has his arm loosely draped around his shoulders and is stroking his arm softly and absentmindedly, like you'd pet a cat. Somewhere in the back of Soda's mind, he realises that six months ago, that would've been a pretty girl snuggled up against Darry's strong chest and Darry would be thinking about whether it would be safe to lean in and kiss her, rather than how they were going to pay the electricity bill this month and what he was going to make for Pony's lunch tomorrow because they'd run out of bread.

Soda shakes his head and walks inside. Darry turns and smiles at him when he sits down on the couch. He looks like a man, Soda thinks as he tries to smile back, my brother's become a man and I'm still a kid.

"You ok Little Buddy?" Darry asks, sounding quietly concerned. "You've been out there for a while…we were getting worried." Soda raises his eyebrows at Darry before leaning forward so he can see Pony's face. His little brother's eyes are half open and fixed determinedly on the tv set, but the glazed gloss that covers them tells Soda that Pony's very nearly asleep. He pulls back and grins at Darry triumphantly.

"Yeah I can see that." He says ruefully. Darry chuckles, the rumbling vibrations of his chest making Ponyboy shake slightly.

"Ok then smartass, I was starting to get worried. Pone was just dozing…has he gone off yet?"

"Nope, nearly though."

"Good. I probably shouldn't have let him stay up but…" Darry trails off and shrugs. "I just wanted to be the good guy for once. And it gets boring doing the same routine day after day y'know?"

Soda nods absentmindedly, trying to decide whether or not to bridge the subject with Darry. He didn't want to upset him by bringing up the good times they used to have, it might be like reopening an old wound, but on the other hand Darry's unexpectedly spontaneous approach to Pony's bedtime has inspired him. He swallows hard and takes the plunge.

"Darry?"

"Hm?"

"We used to have fun didn't we?" Soda says quietly, meeting Darry's eye.

Darry smiles sadly and reaches out to squeeze Soda's shoulder. "We sure did Buddy."

Soda licks his dry lips and breathes out slowly. "Do you miss it?"

Darry pauses for a moment before answering and his eyes drift far away. "Sometimes." He concludes finally.

"Me too." Soda agrees and they smile at each other.

Darry breaks the moment first, clearing his throat and looking away. He reaches down and gently shakes Pony's shoulders. "Come on then Kiddo, time for bed." And just like that, Darry's back to being the grown-up, all calm and still and strong. Pony groans in displeasure, tiredness making him sound younger than his thirteen years.

"Noooo." He moans, arching his back and burying his head against Darry.

"Yes." Darry states firmly, in that voice that brooked no argument. Soda wondered where he'd learnt that tone of voice, had he practiced it in the bathroom mirror until he had it down to an art?, because he never used to speak that way.

"But I'm not tired!" Pony protests as Darry starts to push him up from the sofa. He makes his body go floppy so he's heavier and more difficult to manoeuvre, but it's no match for Darry's superior strength. Darry barks out a laugh.

"Yeah right," Darry scoffs, looking toward Soda to include him in the fun. "You were practically sucking your thumb five minutes ago, isn't that right Soda?!"

Soda nods and joins in the laughter. "I don't suck my thumb!" Pony cries, half outraged at the accusation, half enjoying the friendly teasing.

"Whatever kid. Now come on, it's bedtime." Darry grabs Pony's arms and frogmarches him down the hall. Soda can hear his little brother's laughter bouncing off the walls and smiles.

"Sometimes…" he whispers to himself. "Only sometimes."

The rest of the time, he decides firmly, finally laying the matter to rest, Darry must be pretty happy.

Kind of random and pretty pointless, but there it is...my first drabble (at least I think it's a drabble...?) Written because we all know Darry wasn't alway such a hardass. :D