Chapter Text
It has been a week since everything happened with Darry. A week since Soda experienced what might’ve been the greatest guilt and fear in his life. He wasn’t eating as much. He still ate a healthy amount, but not nearly as much as he did. Ever since that night, he’s had this growing knot in his stomach. The guilt turned to a sickness he couldn’t quite explain- and there wasn’t an evident way to stop it.
Darry was out late for work again, so Soda had just made some of his signature green pancakes for dinner for him and Pony. Truthfully, Sodapop didn’t know how he managed to make the pancakes green of all colors the first time, but now he’s just been using food dye for the fun of it.
“Soda, how do you manage to do this every time?” I guess Pony didn’t know that it was the food dye, but Soda wasn’t about to ruin the facade for this 13- no, 14 year old.
“I ain’t sure. Just kinda happens?” Soda shrugged, with his signature stupid smile on his face. He picked at the pancake he had on his plate. It was even harder for Soda to eat without Darry being there, though he would never actually admit that to anyone. He couldn’t help the worry that would wash over him.
They finished eating, and Ponyboy and Sodapop were lying in their bed.
Pony muttered a question to soda. “Hey.. Soda? What was going on in Darry’s room the other night? I heard you scream his name and.. and I got worried, so I peeked through the door…”
Soda felt like he went pale. His stomach felt that knot tighten, and he wasn’t sure what to say exactly. “Uh.. Darry just had a really rough day at work—“
“But- I heard our names. And he was crying-“
“Pony, everything’s alright. He was just..” Sodapop paused, searching for the right words to cover this. “He was just really overwhelmed.. thought he couldn’t take care of us that well, that’s all, kid.”
“Oh. He knows he can, right? You told him?” Pony inquired. It made Soda happy to hear Pony worrying about Darry again, like he had before mom and dad died.
“Of course I did! If anyone needs to know he’s great at his job, it’s Darry.”
Sodapop felt the knot tighten again. The feeling of needing to talk about this was making him a little sick. He sat up in the bed.
“Hey, Pones, I’m gonna head to the bathroom, alright? I’ll be right back.” Soda stood up.
Ponyboy nodded, and threw the blanket over himself. “Okay…”
As Sodapop was making his way to the bathroom, he saw that Darry’s door was open, and there was a piece of paper on the ground. Looking into his room gave Soda slight discomfort, remembering what happened just a few nights ago. Soda was really curious what the paper was- it was lined paper with one of Pony’s drawings on the back. He wondered what Ponyboy made him- so Sodapop stepped into the room and picked up the paper. It was a drawing of a cowboy on a horse that reminded Soda of Mickey Mouse.
He couldn’t help the smile from falling on his face, and couldn’t stop the little “aww..” sound from emitting from his mouth. He held the drawing up to the lamp in Darry’s room, only to see that there was writing on the back of the paper. His expression shifted from one of nostalgia to one of confusion and concern. Darrel never wrote, and that wasn’t Pony’s handwriting.
Sodas eyes widened at what he saw. It was very clearly rushed, but he could make out most words.
“Sodapop,
I don’t know how to start this— or even if I should. Maybe you’ll hate me for leaving you like this. Maybe you won’t understand.
I’ve tried so, so hard to be strong for you and Pony. Ever since mom ……… I worked hard, held everything in, and did my best to keep us all together. But I was tired, Soda. So damn tired.
I never meant to be hard on either of you two. I didn’t know how else to ……… . I’ve been scared every day of losing you, of failing you.
None of this …………….it’s mine. My choices lead to me not being good enough of a brother for you.
You’ve always been the light in this house, keep being that. Pony’s gonna need you now more than ever. …………… remind him I love him.
Don’t let the pressure build up on yourself though, Soda. I don’t want you going through what ……………. ………. , I think he will be able to help.
Don’t let me not being here take away your smile.
Your brother, Darrel.”
Oh.
Reading this felt wrong. Sodapop didn’t need to read this- he had no reason to read this. He didn’t need to. Darry was okay- Darry is alright. He doesn’t have these worries anymore-
Sodapop gagged. He felt sick, really, truthfully sick. He put the letter down, crossed his arms over his stomach, and ran out of Darry’s room to the bathroom. He slammed the door shut, and hunched himself over the toilet, and gagged more. It hurt. It burnt his throat up, and left him with a horrible aftertaste. He stood up to go back to the letter, but he felt the wave of sick wash over him again and he threw up. Over and over. He was in that bathroom for thirty minutes.
There was a knock on the door. “Soda, are you okay? It’s been thirty minutes… Darry’ll be home in like twenty.”
Sodapop opened his mouth to say something, maybe crack a joke, lighten the mood like he always tried to—but it hit him again, hard and fast. “Yeah, sorry kid, just feelin’ a little si—” He didn’t get the rest out before doubling over and throwing up again.
Ponyboy stood a few feet away, shifting awkwardly on his feet. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “Oh. Uh, okay. Just... try not to get me sick, alright?” He tried to tack on a little smile at the end, a playful lilt to his voice, but it didn’t really land. It was more of a quiet plea than anything. He really didn’t wanna get sick—not again.
Soda wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and let out a weak little laugh, one that sounded more like a squeak. “Mhm... I won’t, kid. Don’t worry about it.”
Pony just nodded, not saying anything else, and padded off down the hall toward their room. Soda could hear him go, heart sinking. The kid sounded so tired. Soda hated nights like this—nights where he was the reason Pony couldn’t sleep, he felt horrible keeping him up.
After the last of it passed, Soda leant against the bathroom sink for a moment, catching his breath, trying not to think too hard. But his eyes drifted down the hall, toward Darry’s room. The letter was still in there, right where he’d found it. He should go to Pony, should crawl into bed and pretend like everything was fine—but that letter... he couldn’t leave it behind. He couldn’t risk Pony finding it.
His hands trembled as he picked it back up off the floor. He shouldn’t read it again. He knew what it said. But his eyes scanned the page anyway, drawn back like a magnet. Each word dug in deeper this time, like the weight of it had finally sunk in.
Darry. Darry, the strongest guy he knew. Darry, who worked himself to the bone every day just to keep them together. Darry... who’d written this. If it wasn’t for Sodapop barging in… who knows what would’ve happened?
Soda’s vision blurred with tears. He tried to blink them away, but they just kept coming. He bit his lip hard, trying not to make a sound. If Ponyboy heard him crying again, he’d come back out. He’d ask questions. Soda couldn’t let him see this, couldn’t let him carry this, too.
He stayed like that for a long moment, hunched over the paper like it had physically hurt him. Maybe it had. His chest ached, his head spun. That sick feeling in his stomach? It wasn’t just from the flu anymore. Sodapop really just felt tired. So, so tired.
He woke up a bit when he heard the sound of someone stepping into the house, though. It was recognizably Darry, with the stomp of his work boots and the gentle closing of the door. Sodapop picked up the letter and crumpled it in his hands, and dashed across the hall to his and Pony’s room.
Ponyboy was indeed confused on why Sodapop had randomly bolted over, till he realized; Darry just got home. It was definitely way past the time they were supposed to be asleep by.
Sodapop had gone to their closet and discreetly hid the letter in the pocket of his DX shirt.
Ponyboy blinked up at him, confused. “Soda? What’re you—?”
Sodapop didn’t say anything. He simply shoved the DX shirt deeper in the pile where Darry wouldn’t notice, and then climbed into bed beside Pony without a word.
Ponyboy settled back into him, pressing his back against Soda’s chest like he used to when things were simpler, safer. Soda slung an arm around him, pulling him close. Pony didn’t seem too bothered by the sick thing anymore, which was good. Maybe he didn’t notice Soda was still shaking a little.
Soda’s face felt hot, eyes raw and sore. He scrubbed at his cheeks with one hand and let out a low, shaky laugh, realizing just how late it was. “Guess we’re breakin’ curfew, huh?”
Ponyboy let out a quiet snort. “Darry’s gonna have a fit.”
Footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs, slow and tired, distinctively Darry’s. The bedroom door eased open with a creak.
“Hey… G’night boys. I love y’all.”
Sodapop didn’t say anything right away. He just laid there, still, listening to that sentence echo in the space between them. It felt different hearing Darry say it out loud now— especially after reading that letter. He tried to say it back to Darry, but his throat was tight, so it came out as more of a croak.
Ponyboy stirred a little, half-asleep. “’Night, Darry,” he mumbled into the pillow.
Soda leaned in close and rested his forehead against the back of Pony’s head. Darry stood in the doorway for a second longer, like he didn’t wanna leave just yet. Then the door creaked shut again, and his footsteps faded down the hall.
Finally, Sodapop managed to get out; “I love you too, Darry.” He wasn’t sure if Darry heard it.
But he hoped he did.