Hey! I'm so so so sorry that you guys have waited so long for the first chapter. I've had a lot going on and it's been really hard for me to write the first chapter. I know this isn't much, but I hope to give you more soon. I really need to figure out my complete game plan. BUT for now here is a chapter, I'm really sorry for the shortness and if it isn't good! Please read and review! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders… No matter how much I want to…

My beta, sukikuro, says Hi! She's awesome read her stories! :D

"Nothing?" Soda stares at me incredulously.

I shake my head, "Not really, I mean I remember shooting a gun and stuff but I don't remember much of the big events."

"How is that possible, you have to remember something." Darry states from his spot leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Well… I remember the guys that I got close to, the exchanges we had and… killing people…" My voice trails off, I see Darry and Soda exchange glances out of the corner of my eye, "But no I don't really remember too many bad things, it's like there's a big hole in my memory."

Soda sighs and Darry returns to his coffee. I glance at the floor, concerned about the memories that I can't remember.

"Curtis brothers!" Two-Bit yells, slamming the screen door shut and I flinch my thoughts interrupted.

"Hell Two-Bit, you loud mouth." Steve grumbles, taking a seat next to Soda.

"Loud and proud, thanks for noticing Stevie." Two-Bit grins and ruffles what is left of my hair. It's cropped short now, I miss the locks that reminded me of home, but I guess I'm here now so it doesn't matter as much.

I've been home a week or so, my brothers keep trying to get me to talk about what happened in Vietnam… but I can't remember much. Sometimes I get flashes or memories, but nightmares are the most frequent reminders. Although, I don't remember all of the dreams, it's just overwhelming feelings and flashes of pictures. I sleep in my own room now, I'm too old to be bugging Soda anymore. Plus, I spent almost two years without him.

I watch my brothers and my oldest friends converse and bask in the normalcy. But the tightening sensation in my throat starts as soon I as I get too comfortable. It happens a lot, I stand up and head into my room to find something to fiddle with.

A deck of cards that Ross gave me as a birthday gift are my choice. Ross was a great guy, a lady's man and a pure gentleman all wrapped in one person.

"Alright kid, here ya go! Happy birthday from me and the guys." Ross says, throwing a hastily wrapped gift at me.

I flinch and catch the rectangular newspaper encased gift and look up at them guys. Todd smiles genuinely at me, Griffin is leaning against one of the beds. Turner, or Saint as we nicknamed him, is smiling wolfishly at me from his position seated upside down on the bed. Bennett and Ross stand next to Todd, and all of them stare at me expectantly.

"Thanks guys." I say and rip open the package. Inside are a brand new pack of cards, complete with pin-up girls on the faces. A blond is feature on the box and Two-Bit would be proud, he would also love what she is wearing or… what she isn't.

Turner laughs manically and Griffin looks down at him with disapproval.

"Anyone up for poker?" Todd suggests, a shit-eating grin on his face.

I smile, "You're on."

I smile faintly at the memory and walk back into the kitchen.

"Soda… my dad did this when he came back too. I mean I was little and don't remember much, but before the drinking he used to get antsy too. It's just a phase, quit worrying about the kid so much. He can handle himself." I hear Steve remark.

I sigh, every time I leave the room my brothers talk about me and how I'm not talking. I usually over hear them, and I can tell they are worried by the glances they send me.

I walk back into the kitchen and sit down, shuffling the deck.

"So Ponykid, why don't you tell us a story? A good story, you got to have known some guys right? And from the way you hold your alcohol now, you must have been a hoot your first time drunk! Tell us something!" Two-Bit leans his arms on my shoulders, encouraging me in his own annoying way.

My brothers and Steve are looking at me, all three seem truly interested.

"Well there was this one time when Saint got us caught by our commanding officer…"

As I rehash an old story, I can't help but wonder about these memories gaps I have.

I think my brothers, all four of them, feel the exact same.