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The house had been quiet since everyone left. The rooms felt empty, but the silence felt too loud, and Darry had been forced to walk from room to room with the memories heavy in the air.
Pony’s side of the room was barren. White walls, the bed was stripped clean, the small desk across from it was empty. The sketches that had been pinned above the desk had been taken down, pressed carefully in some folder Ponyboy had called a portfolio. Their parents' old suitcases had been lugged out of the hall closet, carrying Pony’s things to New York, and leaving Darry behind.
Soda’s side of the room was empty too. Empty of only him. The pictures still hung where they always did, the bed was still freshly made.
And it hurt to think about.
The letter had come a couple of weeks before Pony left for college. Crisp, white paper folded in an even crisper envelope, had been held in Sodas trembling hand, before Darry snatched it away and read it, once, twice.
The gang stood stiffly when Soda said goodbye. It seemed as if they were sending another of them off to die. It was like Windrixville all over again, but every night Darry would wonder if another letter would come the next morning, bearing worse news.
Steve hadn't been able to stay around Tulsa with Soda gone. Skipping the second gap year he had planned to take, he packed up and headed to some college. He hadn't said where, he had barely even said goodbye.
Two-bit stayed in Tulsa, but it wasn’t much of a comfort. He was drunk every day, spending all of his time at Bucks, or the closest bar he could find. Darry hadn't seen him in a few weeks, last time he did, some girl was tangled in Twos arms, and Darry hadn't stopped to talk.
So he was left to wander around the empty house, the ghosts of memories almost moving him to tears.
He found himself wandering into his old bedroom, the one he had shared with Soda before he had moved into his parents, and Soda moved in with Pony. It was a guest room now, or it used to be. Back when they had guests, or people who stayed over.
Darry’s childhood still lingered, though, on the walls, on the desk, on the bear sitting on the top shelf. He reached for it, taking it down, letting the soft fur run under his fingers, remembering the day he got it.
There was banging on the door, and Darry dropped the bear onto the end of the bed. He thought hazily that it could be the police, before he remembered that no one would come here anyway. There was no one living here except him, and he didn’t do anything wrong.
When the door opened though, to Darry’s surprise it was the police. Two officers, looking quite disgruntled and holding the shoulders of Tim Shepard, slightly drunk and grinning like a cheshire cat.
“Darrel Curtis?” One of the officers spoke, and Darry started.
“Yes, sir.” His voice sounded like he hadn't used it in years.
“Found him trying to slash some kid’s tires. He says he lives here, is that true?” They were both glaring at Darry, which he found funny, because he hadn’t done anything wrong. His hair wasn't even greased.
Darry glanced at Tim before answering.
“Yes sir, he lives here.”
“Good.” The officer shot a look at Tim before pushing him roughly forward. “Keep him under control, would you?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Darry watched as the police officers walked down the front steps, closing the door, and watching as Tim stood before him.
“Hey, Curtis.” The words came out in a drawl, a lazy smile was sent towards Darry before he leaned against the wall.
Darry swallowed, closing his eyes for a second before responding. “Hi, Tim. What the hell was that all about?”
Tim was still leaning against the door, and he slowly, slowly pulled out a pack of Kools as if it hurt him to do so, lighting one and shoving the rest back in his pocket.
“Didn't want Curly and Angela to see me getting dragged home.” His voice was easy, light.
Darry was glaring at the cigarette in Tim’s hand, debating whether it was worth fighting about or not. He resisted.
“Also, I wanted to visit you, see how you were, man.”
The “man” sounded so much like Dally that Darry winced a little, but he tried his best to smile at Tim.
“And you figured a police car was the easiest way to do it?”
“Free ride,” Tim laughed, and Darry did too, weakly.
“But really,” Tim said, after a drag on his cigarette. “How have you been, Dar? Everyone’s pretty much gone and moved, huh?”
Darry smiled wanly. “Yep, everyone’s gone.”
“You didn't answer my first question,” Tim said, smirking. “How are you?”
Darry sighed, sitting at the kitchen table. “I’m alright. Pony’s in college, Steve is too, Soda-” the name caught in his throat. “Soda was drafted, he's in Vietnam right now-”
Tim sucked in a breath. “Shit, I’m sorry, man-”
“It's fine.” It wasn't fine.
“And Two-bits wandering around somewhere, and Dally and Johnny-” a lump lodged itself in his throat, and he cleared it quickly.
“Well, you know.” Darry finished, and looked down.
There was empty silence for a moment, and Darry jumped when Tim laid a hand over Darry’s, holding his gently.
“You should have dinner with us sometimes. Angel and Curly and I. You can’t tell me you're not lonely here.” Darry looked up from their intertwined fingers to meet Tim’s eyes, dark and warm.
“I’m sorry for not coming by sooner. And for not calling.” Tim spoke again, his voice was sincere now, heavy with an emotion Darry could not understand and wasn't sure he wanted to.
“Me too.” Darrys lips quirked into a small smile, still looking at Tim. “I have a telephone too, I could have called.”
“But you didn’t,” Tim said teasingly, lifting his hand from Darry’s and tracing patterns across it. “Why not?”
Darry didn’t speak, he couldn’t think straight, Tim’s fingers drawing lines across the back of his hand was certainly enough to distract him.
“Afraid I’d leave you like everyone else?”
Darry still stayed quiet.
“I’d never leave you alone, Darrel Curtis” Tim said slowly, and Darry shuddered at the words as they hit the cool night air, Tims breath was warm and smelled like beer, and they were so close now that if Darry tipped his head just a little bit-
He had no more time to think it over, because Tim did it for him, connecting their lips as if they had been there, right on each other’s, millions of times before. It was quick and simple, and Darry found himself wishing it lasted longer as Tim pulled away, smirking as if he knew something Darry didn’t.
“Hi.” Tim was still grinning.
Darry’s cheeks burned red. “Hey.”
Silence for a moment, and then;
“Stay here? For the night? You cant walk home in the dark-”
“You don’t need to convince me, Curtis. Let me call home real quick.”
Darry watched as Tim leaned against the wall next to the phone, talking under his breath to Angela with his eyes closed. He tried to keep his blush under control when Tim opened his eyes and met Darry’s.
God, Darry loved Tim Shepard.