Chapter Text
When he stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, he had only two things on his mind: Paul Newman and a ride home.
Except the ‘movie house’ was the highschool after a long friday. ‘Paul Newman’ was his two dead best friends and ‘a ride home’ was music. Which blasted through headphones he had plugged into some shitty old hand-me-down phone. It used to be Darrys but when he had treated himself to a new one, Pony got the piece of crap. It was better than nothing but it was practically snapped in half with cracks, anyone who saw the thing would be surprised it worked well enough to play music.
**you were born inside your head and that is where you’ll be when you are dead.
you’re just a boy, you are no man. and nobody you know will understand.**
But thats not true, Johnny would understand. Sometimes the bleached brunette hated how much lyrics touched him. Maybe because it seemed girly, or maybe because it proved how sensitive he was. But other times it comforted him. He could sink into his sneakers more and more with every step as he was comforted with the familiar sadness music brought him. Sadness, so intense that every part of his body would ache. That's what the 14 year old had experienced for months on end after the death of Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston.
He wouldn't make a peep, he was unresponsive and even as he sobbed into his brother's shoulders the tears exited his eyes with the most from his mouth being a sigh. When he did start talking he couldn't eat. His mind, under the influence of a recent traumatic event, had convinced the boy that anything and everything tasted like Bologna, the same meat him and Johnny had survived weeks off of in the now burnt down church.
He had spent ages blaming himself for every death, mistake, inconvenience, and even slip ups that nobody but him could notice. Things were looking up now. Ponyboy Micheal Curtis had recovered, if you could call it that. He has gotten closer with Curly Shepard and even became friends with Sherri Valance! It was an odd trio to say the least. Two greasers and a soc? Ponyboy was a relative middle ground for the other two. He was polite and relatively non violent for a greaser. People would be shocked at how well Curly and Cherry got along. Curly was practically known for being that batshit insane little greaser who will likely bite all of your limbs off while giggling, and Cherry, one of the richest most popular socs. Maybe it was because of the red-heads' stubbornness and unpopular opinions. But no matter what the reason was, they helped him get back to a normal state.
He could wear Dally’s necklace without dissociating and nearly crushing the metal in his grip. He could plant fresh flowers near Johnny's grave with a smile on his face. A hole in his heart would remain, an aching pain would get shot through his chest every time he saw a sunset alone, but he was okay. Okay enough to be happy.
Ponyboy had gotten to his house sooner than expected considering he had gotten so lost in his thoughts. Darry would call him irresponsible for having his headphones full volume and his head in the clouds, but he arrived safe regardless.
He swung his backpack off of his shoulder as he entered the familiar living room. His eyes caught sight of someone else in the room, causing him to pause his music and reveal one of the two ears, which had become a habit anyways. “Two? What’re you doin’ here?”
Two-bit sat on the opposite end of the couch (with a beer in hand) from where Ponyboy threw his backpack and slumped his body, nearly falling off of the couch. “Mickey Mouse is on,” his eyes didn't leave the screen, “tv at home is broken.” Two-bit was hunched over on himself, eyes heavily fixated on the screen causing a moment of silence that only the younger deemed awkward.
He sighed, giving into the tension as he pulled out his math notebook. “Glad to know you feel comfortable using us.”
“Of course,” he took a large swig of the nearly empty beer, “was also told to watch you till’ ya brother gets back from work.”
“Glad to know Mickey Mouse comes before that.”
The 19 year old looked away from the screen, “Do, not, disrespect the Mickey Mouse grind?? Do it again and i’ll tell Superman to put you on the roof.”
He only rolled his eyes in response, getting back to his homework before being interrupted by the noise of the door opening. There stood Sodapop and Steve, back from a morning shift at the DX. behind them, trailed Darry of all people. Ponyboy, didn't notice the brunette behind them. “Hey Soda,” he didn't look up from his homework, “Steve.”
“Hey kid.” Sodapop leaned over the couch, messing up ponyboys greased hair with his hands, returning it to a more natural fluffy state. His hair cascaded down his neck and laid in tufts atop his shoulders, the bottom half was blonde from the bleach and the overgrown top showed the auburn brunette that he was. Despite his older brothers nagging he had refused a haircut since Johnny had cut it, because of this he had uneven choppy layers, his hair was now the longest of the whole gang, other than Dallys of course, but he didn't quite think that counted anymore.
Ponyboy ran a hand through his locks, his bangs were long enough to slightly mess up his vision, so he pushed them back. “didya’ get me that lighter I was askin’ for Soda?”
“No,” the boy looked over to Darry, making sure he wasnt listening in on their conversation, he was, but he figured it was not enough for it to matter. “You need to quit smoking, the track team needs you”
The younger simply rolled his eyes and pushed himself off of the couch, reaching into Soda's back pocket without permission to grab his lighter.
“Aw cmon Pone, that's mine!”
“Oh shush, if you can smoke I can too.” He lit a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth, taking a long drag that he held for an impressive 18 seconds before exhaling. The bleached brunette opened his eyes only to realize he had been exhaling smoke directly in Darrel’s face. A whine escaped his mouth as the 20 year old snatced the cigarette and crushed it in his hand. “When did you get home??” His leg bounced up and down, this was a trick he found himself using often to stop his whole body from practically vibrating in fear, this saved him the embarrassment.
“I'm in a good mood today. Put that lighter away before it changes boys.” The youngest threw the bright red lighter back to Sodapop before he flopped himself back onto the sofa, resting his feet on an annoyed Two-bit. “Im makin’ dinner tonight.”
The gang, mainly Steve and Soda cheered, and the house abrupted into chaos. Two-bit was moping because not only had they ran out of beer but the brothers' bickering caused him to miss the end of his show. Regardless, nobody could help but at least grin. It had been ages since Darry last made dinner. His cooking was delicious, to say the least, and with work he rarely had time to cook anymore. It was always ‘fend for yourself’ or ‘see if the shepherds have leftovers’ sometimes if he was tired enough he would even encourage his kid brothers to go out to eat, which he used to hate them doing for health purposes.
Ponyboy smiled to himself, it wasn't often anymore that the gang was all together and happy. Hell, he couldn't remember the last time it was like this. He shoved the papers back in his bag, he could push his homework aside for now if it meant savoring this time.