Chapter Text
“I miss you baby,” was the only thing Darry could choke out. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”
He chuckled a bit in spite of himself. Déjà vu plagued his heart. “You’re the best brother I could ever ask for, you know that right, Pony?”
—
“Good night.” Ponyboy added quietly, “I love you Darry.”
Darry only looked up, and brushed it off with an annoyed huff.
Pony tried to close the door as gently as possible, guiding the handle as it quietly clicked into place. He ran to bury himself in the sheets, holding back tears he wished didn’t burn at his eyes at such an insignificant gesture.
But Darry realizes now that it might have been the stray bullet that shot his baby brother down.
One phrase he wished he said more often.
One unsaid phrase.
—
Looking down at his lap, he realizes how easy everything was back then. He notices everything now, now that Ponyboy is gone.
“I just want you back…even if it’s just for a minute.”
Little things like little leaves hanging on by a web, barely missing the wind. A little tree’s naive, thin branches shivering, forgotten and still in the path of nature.
And he realizes how they’ve lived through so much simultaneously.
Everything’s changed, he likes to notice.
Time went on, and so much has stayed the same, too.
Like how Soda had yelled at Darry that night.
—
Darry blinked through his tears as he started the engine.
The drive home, when they had thought hope would be enough for a miracle. The miracle, where Ponyboy would be in the truck with him, maybe dozing off with his head in Soda’s lap, or softly smiling as he’s reassured that everything will be okay.
But that might have been too much to ask for.
Soda was cradling himself in his arms tighter than ever, desperate on the floor. Pain meddling with anger only resulted in him screaming at Darry, with tears weaving itself into his face.
One after another lost to the ravaging plague of loss that had no caveat to what damage it would deal them.
Darry only stood helplessly, realizing what he’s done, and what he lost. Ponyboy. That’s what. His kid brother. And it’s his fault.
It felt so reminiscent of the night of mom and dad’s funeral.
“You’re a monster! Can you see the magnitude of what you’ve done?!” Sodapop screamed between sobs, “Pony’s gone! GONE! Our baby brother is dead, because of you!”
“I didn’t mean to-”
“Do you ever think that you always ask for too much? Do you ever think about how hard you’re being on him? Do you ever think about how much pain you’ve caused him?!”
“He’s gone because of you!”
The only thing that could leave Darry’s lips was a weak, “I’m sorry.”
“No. I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” Sodapop sucked in a shaky breath, “But I’m sure you’ve realized that you’re too late.”
It was clearer than ever, the tone of his voice. Disappointed, upset, angry, none of which seemed to fit.
Because this seemed like the first fatal blow. Sodapop’s dying. Torn from the inside out.
Darry fell to his knees.
—
That night, where Darry tried his best to play Superman for everyone. To keep his face hard and stony, and not start bawling so much that he’d start feeling sick like he wanted to.
But his eyes were rimmed red, glassy as tears that had yet to fall pooled in the corners.
It’s been so long since he last felt this sensation; and yet he couldn’t care less.
—
Darry stared blankly at the bland hospital corridor.
White stucco walls, tiles that looked smeared with candied fruits, and fluorescents that blared above. Nurses and doctors in pristine white coats and with unshaken, cold looks plastered on their sullen faces.
Say, to them it might have been like any other day.
Not for the twenty year old that sat in the hard plastic chair.
Disassociating as Sodapop had his face buried in Darry’s lap, in his khaki work pants. The oldest had his calloused hand resting solemnly on the younger’s grease stained DX shirt as a false sense of comfort. The tears soaked into the fabric, painting splotches of darker brown all over his lap. Sodapop’s loud, reckless sobs were seemingly muffled, each half-hearted breath he took clawed at the eldest brother’s heart.
And Darry knew.
They both knew that it was only a matter of time.
Only a matter of time before a nurse in a porcelain white uniform and a faked sorrowful look on her face as to convey sympathy would call their little brother’s name.
Darry wouldn’t be able to say it right for the next year. Choking out syllables as they aimlessly hit the floor.
The same thoughts plague his mind everyday; Why hadn’t he been better? Why did he let it get this bad?
The same scene paints itself over and over again, blurry depictions of the days Darry always wished he could do over. Sometimes it travels back to so many moments before; the last time all three of them had eaten dinner together, the last day he got to come home to both of his brothers, reminiscing on unsaid phrases and everyday arguments.
“Family of Ponyboy Curtis?”
And Darry knew this was his worst fear coming to light. Coming true. Be careful what you wish for, is what they all say.
Then they would escort the two remaining people, one in hysterics, the other; bottled up into one of those private white rooms.
Sodapop would cling to Darry’s side, head buried in the crook of his neck. And the older would squeeze the younger’s hand three times, not knowing if the sense of comfort was for his own sanity or to keep Sodapop from further ripping at the seams.
Soda’s mind fell from his hands, the fragile line he had tiptoed for so long broke into two.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Darry knew he’d hear words like that that night. He knew, and he wished it wasn’t true; trying to deny the inevitable as tears ran silently down his cheeks.
These moments were never easy.
—
And the sky looks like it’s bruising, turning blues to melancholy greens and yellows before disappearing completely , Darry notices. The colors darkening the sky, and the stems of the red carnations he’s holding seem to have subconsciously been crushed under his calloused, worn fingertips.
The smell of the rain still lingers so subtly on the grass, dewy and crystalline like spring.
And he thinks about how Ponyboy would have loved to see the sunset reigning over them.
Days of telling Pony everything he’s missed, and how much Darry loves him turned into nights sobbing, guilt ridden and in pain.
Ponyboy never responds when Darry goes on about his regret, forever repeating apologies as if they would change a single thing.
But it’s enough to remember his glittering green eyes turning cold with time. He did this. He hurt his baby brother beyond repair.
People say that time can heal anything.
And that everything changes no matter what.
But Darry can’t seem to let go of the past, or let go of what he’s lost.
He always finds himself going back to moments he’s seen Pony smile, or heard his voice that sounded like such a melody now. The glimpses of him that Darry could remember, but it all seemed to fade so quickly into ashes.
And the only thing that seems to overtake the memories of Ponyboy laughing seem to be consumed by Darry telling him he’d rather if he was dead.
And he’d tell Pony that sorry doesn’t do a single thing.
As if it did anything now.
And he’d hope Pony could maybe hear his pleas from wherever he is now. “You’re in a better place now, right, baby?”
The sky had just turned gray, and the sunlight ridden days slipped away into a moment of time. Bleak, and painfully cold.
And it seems so fitting.
Shouldn’t he be happy? Telling Ponyboy he’s better off dead and such a burden.
And Darry got exactly what he wanted.
—
“Gosh! I should’ve just sent you off to some boy’s home to save myself a goddamn burden!”
Ponyboy spilled coffee all over the tiled floor. The puddle of black, tinged brown continued to grow at an alarming rate across the kitchen, settling into the grooves between each square. Different sized shards of the porcelain mug were like a mosaic.
“I don’t have time for these stupid mistakes in the morning! Everything would be damn easier if you just went with mom and dad that night!”
“Darry..,” Ponyboy whimpered, “You want..you don’t, you can’t…”
Darry snapped impatiently, “Spit it out already!”
Ponyboy’s voice was barely a whisper. “You want me.. dead?”
“Took you long enough to get it. Now, I’m gonna be late! Go bother someone else to get you to school.” He threw down the newspaper. Darry then stomped out and slammed the door, leaving Ponyboy in the sorrowful silence.
He felt something tugging at his heartstrings as he heard his little brother scrape the mess, trying to muffle his sobs.
—
What he would have called freedom . But it meant nothing but guilt, and painstakingly missing his baby brother every second Darry’s alive. Another cage erected around him, one that only seemed to close in on itself as days passed.
Darry had told Ponyboy that he's a pathetic crybaby. Yet he’d do anything to hug Pony, to tell him how much he loves his baby brother, and to tell him how proud he is of him.
He scoffed a little in spite of himself, muttering, “You asked for this, you wanted Pony gone..he’s just a bother and a burden, right?” This only caused a sharp pain in his chest, and more hot tears to run down his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to..I didn’t mean to…” Darry sobbed, whispering, “I—I’m so, so sorry baby.”
Darry doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it. Realizing what he’d done, no matter how many times he relapses over and over in his ocean of guilt.
Or the silence that plagued the half of his mind and heart, and the rest of his life; tainted with uncertainty.
Darry placed the tear stained flowers on the gravestone, sobbing, “I..I love you more than anything. I wish I was a better brother, baby.”
—
“Darry!”
Ponyboy called out to his brother, who was glued to the newspaper in his armchair.
“Darry, please I want to show you something!”
The younger playfully prodded the older’s shoulder a few times trying to get his attention. He looked up a few times at the sheer curtains covering the window, hoping the surprise he was so eager to reveal wasn’t long gone.
Darry looked up for a split second, impatiently snapping, “What?”
“Come with me? Please?”
Darry sighed heavily, before sternly reprimanding the boy. “Pony, I’m not in the mood.”
“Just for once, please Dar?” Ponyboy pleaded a little bit more, hoping to sway his older brother.
“Shut up! Can you please bother Soda instead?”
Pony seemed taken aback by his words. His mind swarmed with the phrase, sending across the ripples of his thoughts. Bother? Is that what Darry thought of him?
Seeing it best to not want to be more of a burden, he solemnly walked out to the porch alone. Ponyboy heard Darry grunt disapprovingly as he did.
“Good morning’ sunshine!” greeted Sodapop, dragging out the ‘good’ as he walked into the living room. He looked around confusedly, not seeing his younger brother. DX shirt unbuttoned, and his arms placed coolly behind his head, striding to where the worn recliner was.
“Hey Darry, you seen Pony?”
“Don’t know,” Darry responded half-heartedly without looking up from the gritty black and white pages.
Sodapop slammed the door on the way in, storming up to Darry.
“Darry! You went too damn far!”
He put down the paper and sat up straighter, frowning.
“I told Pony to piss off and he wouldn’t!”
“He thinks he’s a goddamn burden now! You and I both know he ain’t.”
“Well maybe I think so!”
Sodapop couldn’t believe it. “You didn’t mean that. He was cryin’ so much!”
“He’s just a pathetic crybaby,” Darry finished, not bothering to continue, “Soda, you’re gonna be late for work.”
“I can’t believe you.”
—
There is so much he wishes he could make up. Moments where he wished he told Ponyboy a simple, “I love you”. Times where Darry wishes he had hugged his youngest brother tightly, and never let him go.
Darry couldn’t remember the last time he saw his little brother’s smile and the song of his laughter.
He realizes Ponyboy could find beauty in anything, no matter how delicate or mundane.
In skies as dark as now, Darry could picture him running through overgrown fields, catching fireflies, with a smile larger than life.
Like Pony once said, the only way to see the stars in the sky, the sun had to disappear.
And it stops time, Darry cradling flowers meant to be forlorn hope, seeking out the stars through blurry eyes and realizing how beautiful everything is.
If he stops, and for once takes a breath, he might realize how golden the world is. Like how Ponyboy saw the world, vivid and in color.
Before, he had all the time in the world to tell Ponyboy how much he loved him.
Yet only now, now that Pony’s gone, Darry always says ‘I love you’ into the air, hoping that his little brother could hear him.
Hoping this would make up for the words unsaid.
Nights before he retires to the darkness, constantly wishing he reciprocated the ‘I love you’ he told his eldest brother the night he lost Ponyboy.
Darry too realizes that times change like the weather. So quick he could barely relish in days painted with warmth or when the sky grew to foreshadow a perfect storm.
He hadn’t realized that everything he had was someday going to all disintegrate. Everything he had been so used to, and had known and loved. He never thought that he’d wake up, and find the summers he’d spent with his baby brother, long gone.
And he thinks that the last fourteen years has been the best, because Ponyboy was by his side. Maybe everyday that his heart was still beating, the sun beamed and buds blossomed into hope. Because everything seems like a layer of dust has covered everything, and flowers are disintegrating into nothing.
And time always seems to go back on itself to that night.
—
I’m supposed to be the lucky one, Ponyboy thought.
Loved. Beyond possibility. And everyone was sure to let him know of it.
Lucky, my ass. While it only felt like a cliff with a precious view on the free-fall down.
What broke Ponyboy out of his self-pitying train of thought was the rough shove to his side. The pain was almost immediate, slurring as he stumbled backwards and fell hard into the dirt. He looked up only to see Steve scowling, and his face darkening.
He wished it was how it was like before, where he could find hope in places people so often overlook.
Everything was still as beautiful as before.
The sunsets, reigning over the skies when Darry and Sodapop got home to find Ponyboy nestled behind the curtains and against the window. How all the colors blended so seamlessly with each other, producing honey golden shades and oceans of wistful paradise. It all seemed like a big puddle of watercolors that had spilled all over the large canvas.
Ponyboy still loved it. Hell, he clung to those few peaceful moments like a lifeline, hoping they would be what tethers him back to life.
But it never did.
It all stayed the same, day to day.
Does the sun ever struggle to find its way up to the top some days? Does the moon ever sink further below the horizon than it ever should? Did the stars ever get under the weather? Did time share his struggles or would it continue to pass on like nothing?
Because it seemed like his friends continued to laugh and create memories in the present, whereas Ponyboy was stuck reliving past moments just to find himself after he suffered such a feverish defeat.
And maybe that was the end of it, he was taken down by how he wished things would go back to normal.
He didn’t think he was lucky.
—
“Please, I don’t want to fight,” Ponyboy shakes as he backs away from the blue mustang. Silver flasks and everything reeked of alcohol.
He didn’t want it to end like this.
—
The world seemed to blur in front of his eyes.
Cold grays, bleak whites, and darkened shadows swirled into one mess of tears and hurt.
If only he had known what he knew now then .
What had changed in mere seconds etched a lesson.
If only this wasn’t his last chance, gone and passed.
Darry was cradling Ponyboy in his arms, tightly pressed against his chest. He had his face, incredulously wet with tears buried in his little brother’s hair, matted with blood. He, too, knew there wasn’t any turning back. No time machine, nothing that could reverse the damage that had already been done.
“Pony—I..I love you so much, you know that right, baby?” Darry inhaled sharply, whispering, “I-I didn’t mean it. I’m so proud of you. For always trying your best..and for always trying to fulfill my high expectations. If only I realized sooner…”
All that came from Ponyboy’s bleeding lips was a pained groan.
“Stay awake baby, keep your eyes open,” he nudged his brother, but it came out in less than a whisper.
Pony’s eyelids seemed to only flicker for a short moment as he weakly gazed up at his older brother. So this is where it ends . He breathed out, “Dar?”
“I’m right here, little colt…I’m right here.”
Pony was so, so tired. All he wanted to do was go to sleep, maybe forever. But he heard Darry’s pleading words. Every promise that was made in the empty room.
I’m sorry Darry. Closing his eyes one last time, he barely uttered, “I love you..”
That was his valediction. Burned out, instead of fading away.
“I love you too, Pony,” Darry sobbed as the pain in his chest grew all the more gut wrenching. “I love you so much…I love you more than anything..”
He placed a kiss on his baby brother’s forehead, whispering, “...I’m sorry.”
Only then did the panic truly begin to set in. The panic turned to realization, burning an empty pit in his stomach.
Darry screamed himself hoarse, only pulling Ponyboy tighter, and closer to him.
Sodapop’s words of panic as he saw the scene were lost to Darry’s ears. He ran out, only to return, sobbing hysterically as he fell by Ponyboy’s side.
“Pony wake up, please baby,” Darry choked out through his tears. “..I-I’ll make your favorite meal, we can go to the movies together, and I’ll never hurt you again, just wake up for me, please? For Soda? Please Pony…”
A sharp pain in Darry’s chest suddenly became clear as he surveyed his baby brother. Dried tear tracks seeped out of his gently closed eyelids, a pathway that ran down his cheeks. He looked like merely sleeping. Like if Darry were to attack him with a fit of tickles, he’d start laughing and swaying around. Darry’s hands were painted with cracked dried blood, stuck to Pony’s arms where he could feel each long gash.
He never heard his desperate pleas .
“We…can bake a chocolate cake together. With extra chocolatey icing, just how you like it,” Darry squeezed his baby brother’s limp hand tighter. It felt so small and soft in the older’s rough hands.
“And when you’re all better, I’ll tuck you in bed and kiss you goodnight, like how mom always did it..”
A single beam of sunlight swept across Ponyboy’s still face, the golden river pouring down a sense of lost hope.
The golden rose that had blossomed out of the frozen ground had wilted. A candle succumbing to the wind, with its last sparks of light on the wick giving way to plumes of smoke.
Ponyboy was made out of nothing but love.
Ponyboy loved him , his strong older brother who worked so hard to keep them afloat.
Darry knew that. And Darry loved him, too. And he still did, more than ever.
Every loose thread seemed to unravel that very moment. When Pony’s breaths seemed to fade, and Darry noticed how quiet everything was. Besides his ragged sobs, and his heart beat rather put itself on its paces, it was all eerily quiet .
He hated the silence. Maybe he’d covet it once in a while when he’s exceptionally in need of a moment to himself.
But it only confirmed one thing in his eyes, Ponyboy was gone.
His little brother, who always wandered with his head in the clouds, who was supposed to make it out, was gone .
Darry only held the younger boy’s limp form tighter. He’s not gone.
Darry couldn't seem to let go. He couldn’t.
“Please baby, I can’t do this without you. I’m so sorry, just please stay with me,” the pleas escaped his lips before he knew his one last wish.
“I love you, I love you so much,” Darry mumbled into his little brother’s hair, “I’m sorry, baby.” His arms were wrapped around the youngest, cradling him tightly in the crook of his chest. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he held Ponyboy.
Darry tries, though he knows he can’t change anything.
It’s almost laughable when California Dreamin’ replays in his mind.
He’d heard it on the radio just weeks before, picking up Ponyboy from school in their rundown Ford truck. After the third time; Pony would always hum little bits of the chorus in the passenger seat as the sky turned shades of ruby and amber. The Mamas and The Papas is the name that precedes the tune, and it hits Darry all at once—he’ll never forgive himself. His chest hurts with a piercing pain, and he chokes back yet another sob.
‘This wasn’t supposed to happen ’ is the phrase that he can’t ever be freed from.
And it was moments like these that made it so hard to hope.
—
“Pony, wake up! Ponyboy…”
Sodapop’s sobs were incomprehensible—Darry’s nearly inaudible. The blonde ran to his brother’s side; lifeless on the crisp white sheets. His tearful gasps were full of affliction and his breathing was labored.
“Wake up, please, baby! You can’t do this to me!”
Darry helplessly gazes as Sodapop grasp Ponyboy’s cold, pale hand, and falls to his knees sobbing into the mattress. I didn’t mean for this to happen, baby.
Soda screamed. Begging Ponyboy to do the impossible; to thwart the agonizing inevitable in a whirlwind of pulsating tears.
Watching from behind, Darry’s head swam dizzily with the feeling of déjà vu. He’d been here before. His parent’s deaths hadn’t devastated him this much. It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much, and yet it did—now there wasn’t ever enough time to spend with the person he gave everything for.
Whenever it gets too quiet, Sodapop’s heart-wrenching scream echoes throughout his mind; leafing through a tangle of thorns.
A paroxysm of guilt hit Darry all at once as he merely stood by and watched his middle brother fawn over his little brother’s last past sunset. Already fallen beneath the horizon, as they were left to pick up the darkness that would overpass.
The pain was insatiable as his kryptonite; shattering every windowpane of the oldest’s downtrodden heart. It tugged at his chest, his pulse jumping into his throat as he was overcome with another onslaught of tears.
“You promised, kiddo. You promised me!”
It’s on me, kiddo, Darry thought , I’m sorry. A bouquet of vertigo washed over the shore of his mind. His heart ached; the guilt spilling across his features, beating down his every thought.
He knew; what he’d done led to a chain reaction of events that happened too fast, and never in the way he wanted. Just hours before they were all in the living room; all seven of them, and laughing over Two-Bit’s stupid antics together. It happened so swiftly, in the wrong gust of the wind into a miserable night Darry knew he’d never forget; nor would he ever forgive himself.
Sodapop was ruined because of his actions. It wasn’t just the youngest—he lost himself and Soda in the waves of grief.
Yet Darry was paralyzed in one spot.
One part of him wanted to run and beg his breathless little brother for forgiveness—to tell him he was sorry for everything. Darry would miss Ponyboy as long as he lives. He’d failed the one promise he knew he had to uphold; and the everlasting pain; chronic.
The other side told him he had already done enough.
This was Darry’s last chance.
Last chance to tell his little brother everything that he’s ever wanted to, but never did.
Yet it wasn’t even a last chance; some sick voice rang through his head.
Darry was already too late. He was begging for forgiveness too late.
The last time he’d push Ponyboy’s hair back as gently as he could, holding him tightly within his embrace as if he hadn’t already slipped away.
All Darry could say was a wistful ‘I love you’–a farewell, as he placed a kiss on his forehead, sobbing silently into his hair.
He knew it was goodbye, Darry knew that as he held his Pony’s hand, tightly wrapped in layers of now useless gauze, his baby brother’s cold fingers felt so small against the older work-worn hands. They wouldn’t ever play another tune on the piano in the family room, or turn another cream colored page of a library book.
His heart had been ripped out—the pain embedding itself with every helpless sob that escaped his lips. The guilt swallowed him like insatiable quicksand, and his chest tightening by the second. There was so much that he should’ve done. Darry knew this time–he caused all of this.
Darry was so caught up in the present and forgetting, forgetting the smiles and laughter he had shared with Ponyboy before.
He had forgotten, so caught up; his promise.
To his parents, to his brothers, to himself, that he’d protect Ponyboy no matter what.
And he’d failed, he’d failed. It was all over, every past chance.
Maybe if he had just gone with Ponyboy to the drive-in, and shared a pepsi and some vacuous beach bum movie, he could’ve shown how much he loved him. Or maybe if Darry had just told Ponyboy once, ‘I’m proud of you’ after his report card came in the mail, he would be in his arms right now. The thought that he would never get to apologize to his little brother for the way the night turned out vehemently condemned himself.
Ponyboy hates you—he’ll never forgive you for what you did. All you did was fail. You neglected him when he needed you most.
He needed you.
Now it was never enough.
What if? What if things had been just the slightest bit different?
Ponyboy had a fire in him that couldn’t help but shine brighter than the sun. When his greenish-gray eyes would light up when he smiled. It burned bright until it gave way in the hospital fluorescents in the night.
Until the very end.
—
“Darry?”
It was late at night, the sky pitch black except for the heavy sprinkling of snow. Soda’s voice was nearly inaudible.
Bright white falling against the darkness, settling on the windowsill just beyond the sheer curtains.
All the lights in the unkempt little home were shut off, leaving for only the glow of the streetlights and the snow-dusted moonlit sky against the windows to stream a path along the carpet.
“Can I sleep with you tonight?”
—
Too many breakdowns just thinking of the little fourteen year old. Stolen moments staring at old smiles in wallet photos. Delicate times where they couldn’t even say his name.
Sodapop only felt beyond empty, trying to build it up from the ground once more by flipping the pages of one of Pony’s sketchbooks filled in charcoal doodles or watercolor sunsets, or reading the back of a few of his many books. Burying his tears in pillows that still smelled like his baby brother. All in an attempt to hold Ponyboy in his arms once more, like he had before.
Darry was only left wishing he had been better. Said a few unsaid phrases, hugged Ponyboy a little bit tighter, and did something for the kid to laugh and smile one more time. Just once , seemed to be the driving force that led him to this conclusion. If he kissed Ponyboy on the forehead, went with him to the Nightly Double, or told him “I’m proud of ya, kiddo”, all just once .
And just once , he wouldn’t be so pained at the thought that he had good as well as left Ponyboy abandoned, and neglected him when he needed it most.
“I should’ve told you to keep going, baby, I should’ve known,” Darry reminisces in the middle of the living room, alone. “I should’ve used my head like I’m always stressin’ you to do, kiddo.”
—
“Dar..do you think this will ever be over?” Sodapop asked tentatively. It came out so quiet, a whisper in the wind. I love you so much.
Darry’s eyes softened, and his voice shook slightly. “You can’t grieve forever, little buddy.”
“I know..I know, I know!” Sodapop screamed.
Darry placed his hand solemnly on his back, understanding the burning pain he was going through, yet his hold was never strong enough to keep him tethered to the ground.
Ponyboy, whose words appear in Sodapop’s mind ever so often to remind him of times past, yet he felt it merely taunted the sharp vicissitude from which he couldn’t move on from.
Sodapop never thought he could move on, on his own.
—
Sodapop woke up in the dead of night, drenched in sweat. Vertigo blossoms into his consciousness—fear is a thousand prickles on his neck as he struggles to steady each breath.
It hits him—the loss of his little brother—every single time, all over again. His last smile, all the memories he wanted to take with him forevermore.
It’s nearly always the same as he reluctantly lays down to sleep.
The same wistful dream, with the first seconds of a blurry—yet glorious ataraxia.
Ponyboy in the bright of the white sunshine, smiling radiantly; a resplendence that sings so heavenly and lulling Soda’s tired mind to hope for more.
It was the all too familiar memory of the annual Tulsa snowfall.
“ Soda! Come with me! Please? ” he insisted, entangling himself in the wisps of white snow. On the stoop of their home in the same crummy neighborhood. Hearing his baby brother again in the midst of the drops of light was surreal.
He fell to pieces.
Sodapop opened his eyes and looked strangely at first.
His gaze softened, turning more fond day by day, reassured by the sight of his little brother when he fell asleep every day.
Soda seemed to fumble with each step, raising his hand timidly to catch each falling bit of white snow.
“ Pony…We aren’t complete without you. I’m not complete without you ,” Sodapop whispered.
Pony fell into his arms, and Soda’s heart ached. His chin rested on the memory of his little brother, and wrapped tightly in his embrace.
—
The morning light gave him no time to cry, the atmosphere thickening.
The immense feeling of loss struck him like lightning. Sodapop felt like he had lost his little brother all over again, so close yet so far once more.
Yet he found himself in the same spot again; too desperate to let go. Soda reaches over to the opposing side of the bed, meaning to cuddle into his little brother’s warmth, only finding it empty like months before. It shouldn’t have been a surprise.
Sodapop pushed the unimaginable nightmare away, he pushed away what he could never understand. Things which he couldn’t grasp, yet he wakes only to drown and choke on the truth once more.
Sodapop can’t help it.
He collapses, curling up into a ball and crying for all that mattered. Nothing mattered, he thought, with Ponyboy always just out of reach. Regret claws at his heart, and the perpetual facade of grief consumes him whole.
Tears soaked the pillow his little brother used to lay his head on, right beside him. Soda trembled uncontrollably, pounding on the too empty mattress. Why does everything hurt so badly?
Soda could’ve stayed in that tear induced haze for years, reliving what he lost if it weren’t for his big brother.
“Hey little buddy,” Darry said in a hushed voice. He sits on the bed in his khaki work pants, next to Soda. The display of affection was so simple, yet it comforted the younger immensely. He rests his head against Darry’s leg.
“Get up, will you?” Soda let out a muffled sob. “Hey, hey. It’s okay…just get up.”
Darry wraps his arms around Soda, judging him as if he had the strength to pull himself up. He engulfs himself tighter into his older brother, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.
Finally, when Sodapop doesn’t do anything, Darry hoists him up into a sitting position.
When their eyes meet, Soda realizes his older brother had been crying too.
It wasn’t just him.
“Things..just won’t go back to normal, Darry. I know I’ll never get it,” Soda whispered softly, “I’m so sorry. I miss him so much.”
“I know, Soda, I know.”
And they left it at that.
—
Two-Bit Mathews wasn’t one for sentimentality.
He’d thought the same thing for so long, yet he ate his words for once when Ponyboy died.
Darry and Sodapop were at the hospital. Trying to convince themselves with some form of blind hope, that their baby brother would be back home by the end of the night, safe and sound.
Yet deep down, they knew, and Two-Bit knew this all too well, that there was nothing left. They would be coming home empty handed no matter what.
Maybe he had taken the kid for granted. Spent too much time purposely forgetting about him. Brushing Ponyboy off because he seemed to be goin’ on real well on his own. Yet he knew better now.
That maybe the youngest Curtis would still be here if he’d only been there for him.
Two-Bit sat solemnly on the porch of the house he spent the summer at. Long days and warm nights. Cracking some unrestrained remarks and laughing with Sodapop and Steve, teasing Darry and coiling in on himself as he looked like he was about to pummel the jokester, celebrating Ponyboy’s fourteenth birthday and shoving his face into a slice of chocolate cake…
Ponyboy was just fourteen. Just a little kid.
“Remember when we were all little?” Two-Bit said into the air, not expecting a response. “And me an’ Steve, we’d come to your house and eat all of your momma’s food and laugh and play like there was no tomorrow?”
—
Keith knew all the turns and steps up to the door of the Curtises. The home he spent so much time at, with the porch lined with little grocery store potted plants that Mrs. Curtis kept fresh and green.
With the warmth of a place he knew was safe, as simple as it sounded, was beyond a luxury. Greeted with smiles and wild laughter from the inside, and the smell of homemade meals, it was home as he knew it.
—
Two-Bit felt a sense of loneliness, maybe it was because he knew Ponyboy was gone. Gone .
He tried ignoring that immense wave of dread, and guilt, that meant he would have to finally accept it.
At that moment, it felt like his biggest fear. He wanted to believe that when Sodapop and Darry return in their well-loved truck, Ponyboy would be right there once more. Or that maybe Darry’ll call the house and tell Two-Bit that the youngest was alive and well.
He didn’t want to deal with it. It seemed easier to keep denying what hadn’t come yet.
“I’m sorry I never got to say goodbye to you.”
The same little kid that donned a pair of warm woolen mittens and a fluffy beanie after his mom had to force them on him, reading picture books snuggled on the porch steps in the snowfall.
The same little kid that read book after book, filled sketchbook after sketchbook with masterpieces that were all his.
The same little kid that lost his parents one night, and had to fend for himself with his brothers taking up new responsibilities.
The little kid that was forced to grow up, too quickly.
—
“Since when were you an intellectual, Two-Bit?”
“My genius spans greater than you could ever even begin to understand,” Two-Bit joked with a pompous attitude, gray eyes glittering.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ponyboy retorted in faux contempt, not trying to hide his grin.
“Besides, kid, I’ve been around you long enough to pick up that smartass behavior of yours.”
Ponyboy raised an eyebrow, before chuckling and saying, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
As he said that, the younger boy nearly tripped on the curb as the older grabbed his shoulder to steady him.
“Kid, if you break another limb under my watch, Superman is absolutely gonna brain me.”
“Sorry,” Ponyboy muttered before groaning, “Why did Darry have to make me walk home with your sorry ass?”
Two-Bit replied, “To save ‘im some money,” while patting the white plaster cast. “How did this even happen? All I heard was you fell and we know that’s pure, unfiltered bull.”
Pony seemed to hesitate, readjusting his crutches before saying, “That’s right, I just fell at school. Two-Bit, don’t push it.”
“Oh damn right will I push it.” He grinned wildly. “‘Fess up, kiddo.”
Gray met green, pleading met the hesitant, angered met the pained.
Ponyboy seemed to contemplate it for a moment, before complying.
“Fine,” he huffed, “Some Socs thought it would be funny to give me a little nudge down the stairs.”
Ponyboy sheepishly grinned, adding, “Technically, I wasn’t lying.”
The other only looked all the more disdainful.
Two-Bit swore up something absolutely delightful, calling them every no-good name in the book. The look on his face was of pure vengeance.
“Two-Bit, please, it ain’t worth it, whatever you’re thinking.”
“Oh it’s worth it, alright. I’m sure your brothers would like a piece of ‘em too.”
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, mumbling under his breath, “Something ‘bout this weather has made these kids get crazy.”
—
And Ponyboy was still the same. He’s seen the brunt of the pain and damage the Socs dealt the gang.
He still made sure there was always a cake in the icebox, and he made sure it had an abundance of sugary milk chocolate. He still spent hours at the library, and he’d bring stacks on stacks of thick books home to dominate the comforter he and Soda shared.
It seemed like just yesterday, they were still children. Immune to any danger, not knowing responsibility or anything beyond smiling and laughing. Maybe that blissful ignorance only seems so beautiful now that it’s long gone and passed.
And Ponyboy still knew there’s good in the world. Maybe that’s why Two-Bit was so inclined to protect the kid.
Through the reign of the sky, he watched sunrises and sunsets, and stargazed evermore.
He ran his fingers along the rough wooden step. From his spot, solemnly placed on the porch, he looked up from the worn ground.
Twilight blurred into a state of melancholia.
Like a field of melted wildflowers, the sky was wistful purple and cornflower blue. It paled into waterfalls of burning red mixing into fiery oranges.
Streaks of the majestic crimson made its way above, like soft pink waves gently meeting the sandy, twilight shore. Dark shades of purple and gray clouds hung amongst the shadow of the vibrant light that radiated off the sky.
Just over the horizon was the faintest trace of a golden yellow patch, the tainted sunlight fading away mournfully beyond the houses on the opposite street.
“Pony, you was right about those damn sunsets. Glory, that looks real amazin’,” Two-Bit paused, looking up at the sky before lamenting, “I love you like a brother, kiddo.”
And it was moments like these that made it so hard to dream.
—
The sun was gradually coming up, warm sunlight flooding the floor of the room. The sky was blue, and clouds swam through it. It’s a beautiful day. No…, it would have been a beautiful day.
Sodapop closed the blinds.
An artificial night flooded the room he used to share.
He rarely ever closed them when Ponyboy was alive.
His little brother loved waking up to warm rays of sunlight rippling against the white sheets as Soda had his arm around him.
Sodapop had to remember that Ponyboy chose this room because of how the light bounced in from the windows in the early mornings, soft and subtle at the break of dawn. Gentle, as it crept in from the window to the floor, soon tickling the two bundles wrapped up in bed.
Lazy mornings; soft skin that seemed tainted with grease, scarred knuckles, and cream colored linen sheets. Past Saturdays; with the smell of eggs on the stove and blurred toast blurring with a slam of the door and wild laughter. The late daylight burning bright through the uncurtained windows, shimmering on the yellow painted walls.
By afternoon, the light was almost blinding, with bright strips pouring over the assignments and illuminating books sitting on Pony’s desk.
And always around when Darry would come home from work, would the little window be his best escape to paradise. To the other side, basking in Eden’s heavenly sunsets, not one seemingly the same.
It didn’t seem like the roughened city of Tulsa when the colors painted the inside of the window frame.
No matter what, it was always the brightest and warmest compared to other rooms.
Sodapop wanted to keep it that way. He associated anything beautiful with his little brother, it seemed. Even just the pure sunshine gleaming in was enough to remember Ponyboy by. Untimely reminders and glimpses of his smile in his thoughts.
And that hurt all the more.
So Sodapop did what seemed like the best solution. It was too painful seeing memories of his brother and hearing his laughter everywhere, a reminder that he would never be able to make new memories with the person he loves the most.
It was as easy as pulling the two flaps of fabric and letting the darkness overtake the room like it did Soda when his little brother left.
And it was moments like these that made it so hard to breathe.