Chapter Text
The drive was silent besides the rain that was pattering against the windshield. Dally didn't say anything as he stared at the window.
Fear, anger, and exhaustion were all hitting me at once and I wasn't sure how long I could go. The second time I almost swerved into another car and got honked at, Dally spoke up.
"Go pull over." His voice sounded bored but I could tell there was a hinge of concern. I was in no place to argue. I turned on my turn signal and pulled onto the side of the street. Once I'd stopped the car I sat there, putting my forehead on the wheel.
"You trying to kill me again, Curtis?" Dallas muttered after a second, exhaling at his own joke.
"He wasn't breathing." I said. The words slipped out of me without much thinking. "I- I got to him and he wasn't breathing. There was no pulse I thought-"
I took a shaky breath. I refused to let Dallas Winston of all people see me fall apart.
Dally was quiet for a long time. He rolled down the window and smoked out of it. "Y'know." He said nonchalantly. "I died once. Well-" He cocked his head. "You know what I mean. Came back from it."
I glanced over at him.
"My old man had went through my shit. Stole one of Johnny's things and apparently sold it. I went off on him, screamin' and cussin'…" Dallas trailed off. "He grabbed me by the neck and tried to strangle me. The one time I didn't carry my blade." He scoffed. "Anyway. Passed out and woke up on your couch. Your mom was fawnin' over me. She looked scared to death. Told me what happened. 'parently your old man had to give me CPR and shit."
My mind raced. When was this? How old had I been? How old had Dally been? Why did I not know about this? How did I not know about this? That's something that would come up, right?
Guess that's why Dad drilled it in him to know CPR. That and his job.
"Johnny never asked about the thing. Hell, I can't even remember what it was. Pretty sure word got around."
Yeah, to everyone but me.
Seriously, Dallas had almost been killed and he hadn't known?
"Why are you telling me this?"
Dallas smiled. "Figured i'd distract ya a bit."
I paused and took a second to gather how I was feeling. By some miracle it did help a bit. I'd somehow calmed down a tad to be able to actually drive. Anxiety and fear bit at me something awful but at least now I didn't think I was in much danger of getting in an accident any time soon.
"Damn you, Winston." I gritted as I started up the car again.
Despite calming enough to drive, I was still running on pure adrenaline. I parked the car and ran into the hospital to the front desk.
"I'm here for uh- Ponyboy Curtis. He's my brother." I spewed out faster than the average person could probably understand me.
"I'm sorry, what?" The receptionist blinked at me. It's not the first time I cursed my father for my brothers names.
"Ponyboy Curtis, he should have been brought in a bit ago by transportation…?" I ran my hand through my hair.
She gave me another concerned, or maybe confused glare and rifled through some paperwork. "Oh, right." She whispered to herself before looking up at me. "He's being checked out right now."
I sighed. "When can I see him?"
"I'm not sure, he was pretty…" She hesitated. "Have a seat in the waiting room for the time being."
My heart dropped. "Is he okay?"
"Darry, for fucks sake man." Dally huffed and practically dragged me into the other room. "I'll go check on 'im. Ain't like they can see me."
"You don't know what room it is." I deadpanned as I sat down begrudgingly.
Dallas shrugged. "I'll check the broads papers. What's she gonna do, kick me out?" Dallas snickered and walked away into the other room.
I'd normally roll my eyes at that, but instead I just let out a silent exhale and put my head in his hands. I must have stayed there for a while before I felt a pair of hands on my shoulder. I jolted a bit and looked behind me. Soda had a grave expression on his face.
"Hey." I mumbled.
"Hey." He sighed. "He's still asleep. Doctors can't figure out what's wrong because I mean…" Soda scoffed. "How could you? They kicked me out and wouldn't tell me anything, but I can tell they're a bit lost."
"Dal is investigating." I mutter.
Soda froze a bit. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that." He sighed and moved from behind me to next to me. "How… how is he?"
I laughed weakly. That was a loaded question. I was too tired to think of any lie or sugarcoat things.
"You know how… Y'know how when we were teenagers Dal would meet us and have bruises and shit from his Old Man?"
Soda nodded.
"And he'd pretend it was fine and that 'he could handle it'?"
Soda nodded again, his expression darkening slightly.
"That's kind of what this is." I sighed. "He's pretending he's fine, when he's obviously not. He's trying to 'not care' like he always does. But… I talked to him the other night, Soda. He's scared. As scared as the rest of us."
Soda sighed and pulled me into a side hug. "Did you ever forgive him?"
"What?" I looked at him, confused.
"For… For keeping his trap shut. 'Bout Pony in Windrexville?"
"Oh." I breathed. "I dunno, Soda."
I really tried not to think about it. It felt wrong to feel mad at him still, especially since… everything. But truth be told, it was on the back of my mind. How he couldn't even give me confirmation that he was safe. That he'd just bitterly smiled and denied everything.
It made me angry even thinking about it. He saw me falling apart at the seams and couldn't even do me the liberty of telling me he was okay. That he was alive.
"It's okay if you don't." Soda shrugged. "You can still care about someone and not forgive them for something they did."
I sighed. "I don't want to talk about this right now."
I couldn't think about losing my brother once when I might lose him again in this building.
"Okay." Soda dropped it easy. He leaned against me and I felt the urge not to sob. I didn't know what to do. I was tired of feeling helpless and out of control.
It was moments like these I reminded myself why I stopped going to church.
Dallas came jogging back in the room, his face neutral.
"So?" I shot up.
"Johnny's been tryin' to get to him since they got him here, it's blocked."
"What?" I breathed. Maybe I'd finally lost it, because that made no sense.
Dallas rolled his eyes. "When Pony had his thing on the street, I was able to slip in or somethin', me and Johnny both tried, he can't do it now."
"What does that mean?"
"Could mean anything."
The week of Windrexville flashed before my eyes. Him denying or twisting the truth.
"Tell me." I gritted.
Dally put his arms up in protest. "'m serious. It don't mean nothin'. It ain't good, but it ain't bad either."
I sat back down with a sigh.
"Johnny's in there, he'll tell us if somethin' happens." Dally said, reaching into his pocket and getting a cigarette. He lit it with his hand and looked away from me.
"Dal." I muttered. He didn't look at me. I opened my mouth to speak but I couldn't find the words I had a second ago. "Nevermind."
He'd always been cagey about how he felt. The only time he really let that show was with Johnny probably. Johnny probably knew a lot more about Dallas than the rest of us did.
"Kid's goin' places." Dallas cut through the silence. I looked up at him. "I read his uh... his thing. Real impressive."
"Yeah." I muttered, knowing I very possibly could have ruined whatever he has for him in the future. I was the reason he ran out of the house. I was the one who struck him. If he hadn't run out…
None of this would have happened.
Just like I might never forgive Dallas— I don't think I'll ever forgive myself.
Soda, Dallas, and I didn't talk much in the waiting room. The one short conversation about Pony's school assignment was really all the chatter that was held. I shot up when I heard Ponyboys name come out of someone in a white coat's mouth. I walked over to her faster than my usual pace.
"Are you his… father?" The man asked, looking down at his chart with confusion.
My heart dropped and Soda squeezed my arm to quickly bring me back to reality.
"No I'm his-" I looked at Soda. "We're his brothers."
The man nodded. "I'm Doctor Gomez, I've been monitoring…" He looked down at his chart as if to see if he got the name right.
"Yes, that's his real, legal name, can we get on with it please?" I begged.
"Right, apologies. Ponyboy," I could still tell he was trying to comprehend that. "We believe he suffered some kind of heart failure overnight, though we can't be sure…Tell me, has your brother suffered any symptoms before this?"
I couldn't exactly tell them the real cause without looking crazy. I glanced to my right expecting to find Dallas but he stayed where he was in the corner, still smoking
"I-" My mouth opened but Soda started talking first.
"He's been getting more and more tired lately, until this happened. He couldn't get out of bed for two days."
"And you didn't come quicker?" The doctor judged.
"Money is tight, Doctor." I muttered passive aggressively. Not everyone had money to make an ER visit. And, if they didn't know what was wrong or how to fix it, why were they having this conversation? "Is there anything you can do?"
"Well, he still hasn't woken up but we'll be monitoring him. If you'd like, you're free to go see him."
I nodded quickly and the Doctor led me and Soda to a room on the third floor. It was eerily similar to the last time I was here.
He walked us towards a door and opened it for us, ushering us in. I headed in first, grabbing a chair and heading to Ponyboys side. Soda walked in slower and his face fell. I probably should have warned him that he wouldn't look too great.
"I'll give you guys some space."
The man closed the door on Dallas and through it I could hear some loud cursing and hollering, before he phased through it. He cringed and took a seat in the back of the room.
"Sight of my brother too much for you, Winston?" I deadpanned, meaning it as a joke but it came out more mean spirited.
"Nah, man. It's fuckin' door." He said. "Hate that thing."
Soda was still standing at the edge of the bed. "Darry…"
"Hey, I know." I sighed as I got up and went behind him. I rubbed his shoulders a bit. "But these things help him. I know it's scary but they help."
"It ain't that it just-" Soda let out a choked sob. "He looks so small, Dar. He didn't even look this bad when he was sick after..."
I looked at my youngest brother and couldn't agree more. I was too excited to be able to see him to really take in anything else. He was hooked up to a few things and unconscious.
This time it wasn't just a fever and a concussion.
"Johnny says he woke up for a few minutes. Askin' for you guys. He wasn't all there." Dal spoke up. I translated for Soda.
"Is he gonna be okay?" Soda's voice cracked.
I didn't answer him, because I didn't want to lie. I just hugged him tightly. I pet his hair as I embraced him, the smell of diesel and oak still apparent from his work clothes.
"Darry, I'm so scared." He continued.
"Shh.. I know, little buddy, I know."
I glanced over and noticed that Dallas had left the room. I wondered if he'd taken Johnny with him but I couldn't bring myself to care in that moment, the kid had seen worse.
Soda just about collapsed before I caught him halfway to the floor. "Alright, let's sit down." I led him to the chair I was sitting in.
I hated to admit it but calming Soda down gave me something to distract myself with. I could feel my own emotions brewing in the pit of my gut but I ignored them in favor of Soda. I wiped his tears with my hand. "Listen to me. We have a whole team of professionals who are paid to save this boys life. We got Dal and Johnny. Hell, we probably have Mama and Daddy." I gave a bittersweet smile, trying to convince myself.
"They'd know what to do." Soda sniffed.
"Would they? Or would they just pretend?"
Soda laughed a bit at that. "Probably just pretend. I wish I could pretend."
"I know." I whispered. I opened my mouth to speak but Ponyboy made an awful gagging noise. I looked over and could immediately tell he was choking on something. I don't exactly know what I said here but it probably wasn't something very holy. I spammed the call button before quickly putting my brother in the recovery position.
The familiar black ink stained bed as it seeped out of Ponyboys mouth. I tried to hide my own nausea but I knew it wouldn't be for long.
Doctors flooded the room and before I knew it I couldn't see anything. I raced out of the room and found the nearest trash can.
I felt bile rise up in my throat as I coughed up whatever I'd eaten in the past week. He was dying. What was that shit?! That's not normal. That's not normal and it's not medical. They can't do anything. I can't do anything.
My vision grew blurry and dark spots danced around. My breathing became short short and sharp. I backed up against the wall and tried to calm down but there was no use.
"Damn, Curtis... If I didn't know any better I'd think you were drunk." Dally's voice came muffled. Underwater. I couldn't see anything, or, make out anything.
Dad would hate what I'd done to this family.
I'd torn it apart.
I felt a sharp pain in my face and some of my vision returned. Dallas's blue eyes were staring up at me like it was any other day. I tried to catch my breath but I couldn't. I realized when I looked down that my hands were shaking.
"Come on, you smell like puke." Dally deadpanned as he pulled me into a bathroom. He went in first and I closed the door behind me, leaning against it and closing my eyes, trying to calm down. I couldn't calm down.
How do you calm down when your brother could die?!
"Stay here." Dally muttered, phasing through the door. Through it I could hear him curse. My vision and hearing grew staticy and when I blinked again Dallas was standing in front of me, snapping in my face.
"Hey!" He screamed, before saying in his regular tone. "Get it together, man."
He went over to the tap and filled a clear plastic cup with water, handing it to me. "Rinse your mouth out." He instructed. I took a sip, swished it around my mouth and spit it out. Dallas filled it up again. "Now drink."
I did as I was told. It felt nice to have direction. Know what to do.
"Thanks." I slurred my words, exhaustion and fear getting the best of me. Dallas snickered, likely thinking back to his past comment.
I looked up in the mirror. Dallas wasn't in the reflection but when I looked back he was right there.
"Freaky, ain't it?" He said, seeing me connect the dots. I guess I'd been so busy worrying about Pony I never realized I couldn't see him in a mirror.
"Dallas, I don't know what to do." I admitted weakly. "My parents would be so disappointed in me."
Dally clicked his tongue and walked closer to me. "You and be both know that's a fuckin' lie, so don't give me that."
I glare at him. "Their son is in the other room dying and I'm feeling sorry for myself in here."
"Darrel..." Dally said, almost bored. "Your mother would slap you so hard if she heard you say that. She'd probably be in here doin' the exact same thing. Hell, she'd be doin' it if I was in his fuckin' situation. The only thing your folks got to be ashamed of is me and that thing that's controllin' us."
I took a shaky breath, but Dallas kept going. You know you hit rock bottom when Dallas Winston is giving you a pep talk.
"I know sure as hell that kid wouldn't call this 'feeling sorry for yourself'. You feel like… whatever this is because you care about him. Nearly beat me to death when I didn't tell you where he was."
"Still considering that."
Dallas smiled, cat like. "Beat ya too it, pal."
I stared at myself in the mirror again, this time not letting myself get distracted by not seeing Dally. I looked like my father. So much like my father that it hurt. A slightly younger, way more worked version of him. A colder one.
I wondered if I'd made him proud. If he'd pat me on the back and say 'Good job, son' while grinning.
I'd hit his son. How could anyone be proud of that? I let him fight in a rumble. A demon is killing him and I can't do anything about it.
And Mama…
I didn't get there in time to save Dally. She cared so much about Dally. All the boys, really. How would she handle finding out Dally and Johnny died? And that I could have stopped it.
Every bad thing that happened to this family had a common denominator. My parents died on my birthday, I hit Ponyboy and he got attacked and killed a Soc, and the church they were hiding in caught fire and took Johnny. And if I'd just gotten to Dallas in time-
I didn't think. My fist pushed towards me and the next thing I knew there was searing pain in my hand.
"SHIT!" I yelled.
Dallas stared at me with a rare tinge of surprise coating his features. He walked out of my point of view but I couldn't care.
I looked down at my hand. Blood ran down my knuckles from the glass shards that had either cut or pierced my skin. I picked out what stuck out, hissing and cursing my way through my whole hand.
So much for not letting Dallas Winston see me fall apart.
I looked around but I couldn't find him. I let out a sob before he came back into the room, phasing through the door with some bandages. He threw them at me and I caught it with my good hand. Dally snickered.
"Still our little Soc Football player, huh?"
"Shut up." I spat. I started to unravel the bandage before Dallas came over and did it for me, wrapping it around my hand. It was clear he knew what he was doing, and likely had practice with all the times he had to patch up himself or Johnny. Once he was done, I moved my fingers slightly and was relieved when I still could to some degree, though still painful
He leaned up against the wall and watched me. As if analyzing something. He looked me up and down a few times too many before simply stating "Kids awake."