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“Golly, that hurts,” Sodapop moaned as Darry finished cleaning and dressing his wound on his cheek. Darry, Sodapop, Steve, and Ponyboy had just returned from a brawl with a couple of Socs while walking home from the movies. The boys had held their own and chased off the Socs, but not without a few bumps and bruises. Darry patted Soda on the shoulder as he hiked himself off of the couch, onto the next patient.
“Alright, who’s next?” Darry asked, cradling the first aid kid in his hands. Darry skated by with only a black eye that was slowly started to bloom on his face. Being the oldest in the gang and seen as the ‘parent,’ he took it upon himself to nurse everyone back to health. Darry looked in Steve’s direction and Steve waved him off, holding a frozen pack of peas to his jaw.
“I’m good, man, already icin',” Steve mumbled, slumping down into the couch and closing his eyes. Darry shifted his gaze to Ponyboy, who was leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom he and Soda shared.
“I’m good, Dar, not a scratch on me,” Ponyboy said, hands put up in mock surrender. Unable to fully trust Pony, Darry made his way over and took Pony’s face in his hands. He thoroughly checked Pony’s face for any bruises and made his way down Pony’s arms. Pony lightly shoved Darry off. He immediately regretted the action when he felt a pain like no other shoot through his chest. Turns out that kick to the chest from one of the Socs left a little more than a mark.
“I’m fine, Darry, swear,” Pony said, eyes darting to the floor. He never liked to show weakness in front of Darry. Darry sighed as he turned back towards the gang. Ponyboy silently winced when Darry turned away. His chest ached as he unconsciously put a hand on it.
“Alright, anyone else?” Darry said, shaking the first aid kit in the air. The boys all shook their heads, eager to just lie down and go to bed. Darry nodded and set the kit down on the kitchen table.
“Well, it’s out here if anyone needs it. Steve, you’re welcome to stay the night. If anyone needs anything, just holler at me,” Darry said, throwing up a hand as he walked to his bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him. Sodapop groaned.
“Goddamn good for nothing Socs,” Steve cursed as he carelessly placed his legs on the coffee table. Sodapop nodded in agreement to Steve as his head pounded. Soda snuck a glance at Pony, who looked like he was ready to pass out standing up.
“Pony, why don’t you go take a shower, Hun, and then head to bed?” Soda said, nodding his head in the direction of the bedroom. Ponyboy, yanking his head up when he realized Soda was talking to him, nodded.
“Y-yeah, that’s a good idea,” Pony agreed. Maybe the heat from the shower would help loosen up his chest a little. Ponyboy pushed himself off of the doorway to the bedroom and walked the few steps to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind him, he put his hands on the bathroom counter, leaning forward as he tried to ease the aching of his chest. He took a deep breath and the pain worsened. It was getting harder to breathe. He slowly raised his eyes to the mirror to catch a glimpse of himself. Wait - was he wheezing? He gasped as he took in his reflection. His lips displayed a haunting shade of blue and Pony knew this was worse than he thought.
“Shit,” he mumbled to himself, one hand flying to his chest as the other scrambled for the bathroom doorknob. He flung the door open and walked the few steps to where he had left Sodapop and Steve.
“S-Soda… s’mthin’s wrong,” Pony just barely made out the words as he swayed, the lack of air making him lightheaded. Sodapop glanced Pony’s way and his eyes widened.
“Pony?!” Sodapop shot up from his seat on the couch and lunged himself at Pony, catching him by the shoulders.
“Pony, honey, what’s wrong? What happened? Can you breathe?” Soda threw questions at Pony too fast for him to answer. He didn’t hear most of them as his hearing faded in and out as he struggled to stay conscious. He didn’t realize he was falling until he heard Soda’s cry of alarm and felt him cradling his head.
“What the hell’s wrong with him?!” Steve exclaimed, up off of the couch, frozen bag of peas forgotten on the floor. “Shit, he don’t look too good,” Steve said, dread filling his entire body as he took in Pony’s blue lips.
“Pony, honey, can you hear me? Holy shit, his lips are blue, I don’t think he can breathe. Oh my god, oh my god,” Soda said, grabbing Pony’s face with his hands as if it would will him to breathe.
“Steve, I don’t know what to do, call 911, he’s not responding!” Soda yelled. There was no hesitation as Steve ran to the phone.
“Darry! Darry, please!” Soda sobbed as he pleaded for his older brother. Ponyboy was panting shallowly as he tried so desperately to breathe. He felt as though he was suffocating. Was he having a heart attack?
“S-Soda…” Pony begged for his older brother, hoping, praying, he could do anything to ease his pain. Soda shook his head as tears fell down his face. He grabbed Pony’s hand as his head darted back. Pony followed Soda’s gaze and he spotted Darry making his way towards them, complete and utter terror displayed on his face.
“What’s going on? Pony?” Darry said, landing on his knees right beside Soda.
“I don’t know Darry, he just came out of the bathroom and he was stumblin’ and said something was wrong and he was holding his chest and his lips were blue,” Soda rambled as sobs overtook him. Ponyboy wanted so desperately to stay strong for his brothers. He was in so much pain and he could hardly draw in a breath anymore. It pained him to see his brothers worry so much for him.
“Okay, okay, hold on baby, you’re gonna be okay,” Darry reassured Pony, at a complete loss as to what to do to help him. He could handle cuts and bruises and sickness, hell he could handle a gunshot wound if needed, but he certainly couldn’t handle whatever this was that was going on with Pony. This was completely internal, and Darry grew frustrated as he so desperately wished he could ease Pony’s suffering. For once, Darry couldn’t fix this. Pony fixed his gaze on Darry, trying to comfort him and reassure him that it was okay. He hated seeing Darry this way. He was always so strong and put together. He and Sodapop were the ones were displayed affection and showed their emotions. Darry always had his emotions in check, and rarely did he ever lose control. The wheezing started to cease as the air in his lungs stopped circulating.
“The ambulance is on its way!” Steve exclaimed as he hurried over, placing his hands onto Soda’s back as he maneuvered behind him and wormed his way onto the other side of Ponyboy. Ponyboy’s chest seized as his lungs ached for oxygen. Drawing one final breath and never breaking his gaze with Darry, Pony grew still.
“Pony?! Pony, honey, please! Pony, c’mon, don’t do this!” Soda screamed, shaking Pony by the shoulders. Darry’s breath was knocked out of him as he gazed into Pony’s lifeless eyes.
“Pony, baby? Pone…” Darry said, running his shaking hands through Ponyboy’s hair. Steve stood up then, his hands grabbing at his hair as he stepped away from Pony, tears running down his face. The memories from the night of Johnny and Dally’s death came flooding back to him. He shook his head in denial and he choked on his sobs.
“No, no, no, no, baby, please,” Darry said, grief threatening to send him over the edge. Trying, and failing to get a hold of himself, Darry let out a curse. Soda sobbed next to him, cries of anguish that sent shivers down Darry’s spine. Darry has never been one to give up so easily, and he wasn’t about to give up on his baby brother.
“Move, Soda,” Darry instructed, voice cracking, lightly putting a hand on Soda’s arm. Always following orders, Soda moved out of the way, backing himself into the wall, gasping for air as he continued crying. Fierce and determined, not yet ready to give up on Ponyboy, Darry tilted Ponyboy’s head back and blew precious oxygen into Pony’s starving lungs. He just needed to keep Pony’s heart pumping for him and keep his blood circulating until the ambulance got there. Damn Pony and keeping everything to himself. If he had just told us that he was injured, they wouldn’t be in this situation right now. We could have gotten him to a hospital before it got this bad. Darry knew one thing and it was that he couldn’t lose his baby brother, not now. Not after they had just lost Johnny and Dally. His mind vaguely registered the cries of his other baby brother as he sat against the wall, helpless in the situation. Steve couldn’t stand to watch the situation unfold anymore and instead made himself useful by waiting outside of the house to direct the ambulance. Darry’s arms cramped as he continued performing chest compressions, but that wasn’t going to stop him, not with Pony’s life on the line.
“Right in here... we were all in a fight and we thought he was fine, but then he just dropped like a fly out of nowhere…” Steve rambled as he reentered the home, first responders hot on his heels. Two EMTs positioned themselves next to Pony, and one lightly put a hand of Darry’s arm.
“We’ve got it from here, sir,” he reassured him, giving him a soft smile and a nod of his head. Darry reluctantly sat back, giving them the space they needed to work on his brother. He watched as they poked and prodded Pony, working to save his little brother’s life. His 15-year-old brother, who had his whole life ahead of him. And damn was his future bright. There was so much he still had yet to accomplish; this couldn’t be the end for him. Darry rose to his feet and made his way over to Soda, who was shock ridden and trembling. Darry slowly slid down the wall and engulfed Soda into a side hug. He rested Soda’s head underneath his chin and rubbed his arm soothingly.
“He’s gonna be okay, he’s a fighter, he’ll make it through this,” Darry soothed Soda. Soda’s body hitched as hiss cries were muffled against Darry’s chest.
“We’re moving out, we need to get him to a hospital as soon as possible. Based off of what your friend said, we’re looking at a possible pulmonary contusion. His breathing is severely compromised, so we had no choice but to intubate him. We’re taking him to the hospital right inside of town, if you want to follow us there,” one of the first responders, looked to be about middle-aged, balding, relayed the information to the two tear-stained brothers seated on the ground. Darry nodded numbly and rose to his feet, holding out his hand to haul Soda to his feet. Soda took his hand graciously and swiped his hand across his eyes. Steve approached him and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly as they watched the first responders wheel Pony out of the house on a gurney. Darry wasted no time in going to his bedroom and grabbing the keys to his truck and his jacket.
“Alright, let’s head out you two,” Darry said, already at the front door, jacket and keys in hand, shoulders tense. Steve patted Soda’s back as they made their ways towards Darry, following him out the front door. They jogged down the few steps outside of the house, watching as the ambulance took off down the street.
“What did you end up telling them, Steve? They said you mentioned something to them, how did they get whatever it is they got, a pulmonary somethin’, from you just tellin’ them about a fight?” Soda asked as they all hopped into Darry’s car, the engine roaring to life as Darry started it.
“Kid got kicked in the chest by a Soc pretty damn hard during the fight, so I just mentioned that to them when they started askin’ questions,” Steve said, rubbing his hands together absentmindedly.
“He what?!” Darry said as he snuck a glance back at Steve in the rearview mirror.
“Shit, yeah, you guys didn’t see that happen? I didn’t think anything of it until the 911 lady asked me about anythin’ that had happened to Pony during the fight,” he said, rubbing a hand along his chin as he made eye contact with Soda, who had his head craned back from the front seat to look at Steve.
“Shit, Pony…” Soda mumbled, turning back around to face the front, putting his head in his hands. Darry’s hands gripped the steering wheel harder as he drove down the street. This kid was going to be the death of him, he guaranteed it.