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They had said they'd be home by 11.
“Where the hell is he?” Darry raged, getting up from his spot in the armchair. He threw his newspaper to the floor, where it landed in a scattered heap that he'd have to clean up later. Right now, he couldn't have cared less. His concern was Ponyboy.
His youngest brother had gone out with Two Bit to the drive-in to see a movie. Or at least that was what Ponyboy had said they were doing. It was nearly one in the morning; the drive-in was closed by now.
Soda was stretched across the couch, half asleep as he watched his older brother pace across the living room like he had been for the past two hours.
“You know that junker Two Bit drives is a piece of shit, Darry,” he said, trying to be rational about the situation, “Maybe they had car trouble and had to get a tow.”
Darry shook his head. “They should have called. What kind of towing company takes this long?” He stomped across the living room to the phone, his hand poised over the dial pad.
Soda stared at him. “Who are you calling?”
“The police,” Darry said, his jaw set as he started to dial the number. “They should have been back by now.”
“Uh, Dar,” Soda said suddenly, his eyes trained on the window, “I don't think you need to do that.”
Light streamed into the living room as a car pulled into their driveway. Two Bit's car. They were back.
Darry hung up the phone, letting it fall back into the receiver with a slam as he began walking towards the front door, murder written all over his face.
He was going to kill Two Bit for keeping Pony out this late.
They both stared as the car turned off and Two Bit's shadowy figure got out of the driver's side. He hurried around to the passenger side, opening the door. He half lifted a smaller figure out of the car, his arm around the person's shoulders as he helped them to walk towards the door.
Soda's eyes widened. “Is that-”
Darry didn't stick around to hear the rest of his brother's question. He was already up and moving, storming out the front door as he slammed it shut. Soda followed behind on his heels as they made their way out to the car.
Ponyboy was only half awake, and from the looks of it, he was drunk. He was swaying like a tree in the wind as Two Bit helped him to stagger towards the front door, unable to walk without falling over the place.
Soda rushed to help, slinging his arm over Pony's other shoulder. He and Two Bit kept their hold on his little brother as they slowly made their way inside. It wasn't an easy task; Pony was so dizzy and exhausted he could hardly keep from falling over.
He let out a quiet groan, and Soda shushed him, searching his mind for what to do.
“Shh. It's alright, Pony. We gotcha.” He hauled him up and into their bedroom to get into bed, leaving Darry and Two Bit alone in the living room.
“What the hell happened, Two Bit?” Darry demanded. “Why is my kid brother coming home this late drunk?”
Two Bit shook his head, unable to meet Darry's eyes as his head hung in shame.
“I’m sorry, Darry, I don't know how this happened.”
If he thought he was mad before, Darry was furious now. If he were in a cartoon, steam would have been blowing out of his ears.
“What do you mean, you don't know how this happened? You were supposed to be watching him!”
Two Bit stuck his hands up in surrender. “Darry, I said I was sorry. But he's not a little kid anymore. He doesn't need a babysitter.”
“He's fourteen years old, Two Bit!”
“You think I don't know that?” Two Bit shot back, “I told you, I don't know what happened! I stopped in at Buck's to pay my tab and when I turned my back for one second, he was gone.”
Darry couldn't believe this. He knew Two Bit to be airheaded sometimes, but not downright stupid. He would have never expected him to lose track of his brother, much less in a bar.
“You left him alone? At Buck's?”
Buck's was not known for being a particularly nice place, to say the very least. It was a seedy run-down joint where middle-aged cowboys and juvenile delinquents went to drink, have sex, and gamble. It wasn't a place he wanted his brothers hanging around, especially not his fourteen-year-old kid brother.
Two Bit was getting angry now. “I told you, I didn't mean to! I turned around and he had left! As soon as I realized he was gone I started looking for him. Searched every room in the joint. I didn't know he would start drinking, Darry!”
Darry was quiet for a second before he huffed out a sharp sigh, his fingers squeezing his temples. He was getting a headache.
“How much did he have to drink?”
“I told you, I don't know!”
“Well, you have to know, Two Bit!” Darry snapped. “This is my little brother we're talking about! He ain't ever had nothing to drink before. What if he had gotten alcohol poisoning?”
“He didn't, did he?” Two Bit yelled back, “I did everything I could! I dragged his dumb ass out of there and drove him home, but apparently that wasn't enough! I didn't realize I was supposed to babysit the stupid kid!”
Before he could think rationally, Darry reached out and slapped Two Bit across the face, leaving an angry red mark on his cheek.
Two Bit was quiet as he pressed his hand to his cheek, which was already starting to swell.
“I'm gonna go. I'm sorry, Darry.”
With the slam of the screen door and the sputter of his car engine, he was gone.
Darry sighed, staring at his palm, which was an angry shade of red from where he'd slapped him. He couldn't believe he'd slapped his friend. First Pony, now this. He shook his head, going to the bedroom to check on Pony and Soda.
They weren't there. The lights were off and the bed was empty.
Darry briefly wondered where they had gone, before he heard Soda's voice float towards him from the direction of the bathroom, speaking softly to Pony.
“It's okay. Just breathe, Pony. You gotta breathe.”
Darry followed his voice into the bathroom, taking in the sight before him.
Pony knelt on the floor in front of the open toilet, clutching the sides with white knuckles. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on; he was green in the face and shaking above the open toilet. Soda was behind him, patting his back.
“It's okay if you need to throw up. You just gotta let it out. It's okay.”
Pony stared up at his idol, his eyes round and wet.
“I don't wanna throw up, Soda,” he whined, sounding much younger than fourteen. The nausea had sobered him a bit from the sounds of it.
“I'm dizzy.”
Soda hummed in sympathy. “I know you are, honey.”
Pony noticed Darry was in the doorway then, blinking up at him with those damn doe eyes.
“Darry, I'm sorry.”
Darry couldn't find it in himself to stay mad at his brother when he was feeling so sick and dizzy.
“It's not your fault, kiddo. Two Bit shouldn't have taken you to a bar,” he said, shaking his head as the throbbing pain in his palm served as a reminder of the confrontation he'd just had with their friend.
Pony frowned. “It's not his fault I was drinking,” he said, “Please don't be mad at him, Darry.”
Darry sighed and nodded, not quite knowing what to say. He knew he would need to call Two Bit and apologize later, but right now, he had more pressing issues on his mind.
“I'm more worried about you right now, Pony. Are you doing okay?” He asked, although he already knew the answer just by looking at him.
Pony groaned, shaking his head. “Everything's spinning. I think I'm gonna throw up.”
“I know, kid,” Darry answered. He was no stranger to what alcohol could do to you; he'd slept off a few hangovers himself at university before he was put in charge of his brothers and suddenly drinking wasn't something he bothered with anymore. He had too much to lose. “I know. But if your body's gotta throw up, you just gotta let it happen.”
Curious, he added, “How much did you drink, anyway?”
Pony turned pale at the mention of alcohol, swallowing convulsively.
“I dunno. They kept handing me shots. I think I had three or four.”
Darry grimaced. That was enough to get anyone drunk, and certainly, a fourteen-year-old who was as skinny and small as his brother, especially considering he had never even had a drink before. Pony was going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.
“Oh, Pony.”
“Darry, please don't lecture me right now,” Pony groaned, his hands on his abdomen. “I think I'm gonna be-”
He was cut off as he leaned forward and retched, vomiting harshly into the toilet. Soda immediately sprang into action, his eyes wide as he began patting and rubbing his little brother's back as if on autopilot, speaking to him softly.
“It's okay. You're gonna be okay. Just let it out.”
Darry cringed as Pony gave another harsh heave and more vomit spilled into the toilet, the acrid scent filling the air. Pony may have felt good for a little while, but now he was crashing down hard. He was vomiting so hard he could hardly breathe between heaves, his abdomen aching. He was sure to burst a blood vessel in his eye if he kept this up. Darry remembered that had happened to Soda once when he got a bad stomach bug as a kid.
A whine escaped Pony's throat. “Soda…”
As always, Soda seemed to know what his brother was thinking without him saying it.
“I know, baby. Just let it out. You'll feel better.”
Darry went to the kitchen to get a glass and filled it with water, returning to the bathroom and handing it to Ponyboy. “Here, rinse your mouth out.” Pony had stopped vomiting for the moment and was leaning heavily against Soda, who never let up with his shushing and gentle words as he rubbed his little brother’s trembling back.
Pony took the glass with shaking hands, swishing the water around in his mouth before he spat it back into the toilet.
“You think you're done for now?” Darry asked as he reached around his brothers for the lever to flush the toilet.
Pony sniffled, his fingers coming up to wipe his eyes, which were watering from the strain and distress of vomiting.
“I guess so.”
Darry flushed the toilet, closing the lid, and Soda tore off a piece of toilet paper, helping Pony to wipe his face before he tossed it in the trash.
“Alright, kiddo, you think you can stand?”
Pony bit his lip, “I…I don't know. Maybe.” The room was still spinning around him like a top. He wasn't sure he could walk to bed without falling over himself.
Luckily, he didn't have to try and find out. Darry swiftly placed one arm under his legs and the other around his shoulders, hauling him into his arms. It wasn't an easy task; Pony was small for his age, but he wasn't necessarily light by any means. It took quite a bit of strain on Darry's part to lift him.
Pony's cheeks were pink; Darry was holding him like he was a baby.
“Darry! What are you doing?” He whined.
“Getting you to bed,” Darry answered, ignoring his brother's protests. “Don't start whining, Pony. You're still drunk, and I don't fancy having to go to the emergency room if you fall and bust your head open. I'm sure social services would have a field day knowing that my fourteen-year-old brother got drunk when I wasn't around to watch him.”
That effectively put a stop to Pony's protests. He fell quiet as Darry carried him into his bedroom and tossed him onto the bed.
“I'd ask if you want anything else,” Darry said, “But I think the best thing for you right now is to try and sleep it off.”
He had brought the glass of water into the bedroom, handing it to him again.
“Make sure you drink plenty of water. It'll help flush the alcohol out of your system.” At least that was what his parents had told him when they dropped him off at college, knowing all too well what college students got up to in their spare time. He didn't know how true it was, but it seemed to work for him.
Pony nodded, taking the glass from him and drinking several large gulps of water. He hadn't realized how dehydrated he was.
“Glory, Pony, slow down. You'll get sick again.”
Pony drank a few more small, slow sips before he handed the glass back to Darry, who set it on the bedside table. Darry made him take some aspirin, too, hoping to prevent the headache that was sure to come.
Soda appeared in the doorway then, having finished scrubbing down the toilet. He crawled into the bed next to his little brother, wrapping an arm around him as he yawned. It had been a long night.
“Come on, Pony, let's get some sleep. It's late.”
Darry helped him to wrap the blankets around them and went to turn off the light.
“Darry?” Ponyboy called sleepily.
Darry paused. “What's wrong, Pone? You okay?”
“Yeah,” Pony's small voice answered back. “I'm sorry I drank, Darry.”
Darry sighed. This kid. He was still half drunk out of his gourd and sick as a damn dog, and he was still worrying about whether his big brother was mad at him.
“Pony, I told you I ain't mad at you,” he said calmly. “Get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning.”
That seemed to satisfy Ponyboy. He nodded, curling into Sodapop's side as he closed his eyes.
“Night, Darry.”
“Night, Pony.” Darry turned off the light and walked out. He was going to close the door but thought better of it in case his brothers needed something in the night. He went to his room and lay down in bed, closing his eyes. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Luckily, he wasn't woken during the night by Ponyboy throwing up again. He figured he must have gotten most of it up with how violently he'd vomited before. But he still knew Pony had to have a hell of a hangover considering all he'd had to drink the night before.
His instincts were correct. He woke up early that morning before his brothers, as usual. He figured it would be a while before they were up since they'd had such a late night, so he went into the kitchen to make breakfast, eggs, bacon, and toast. No chocolate cake for once; he didn't think that would be good for Pony's unsettled stomach. He needed grease and carbs to drink up whatever was left of the alcohol in his system.
He had finished the eggs and was working on the bacon when he heard footsteps behind him.
Sodapop walked into the kitchen, yawning as he scratched his bare chest. He was still in his boxers, his hair a mess of bedhead. He sat down at the table, blinking blearily at him.
Darry smirked, turning the stove off as the bacon finished cooking. He served the food on three plates, setting one on the table in front of Soda.
“Morning, Mr. Congeniality.”
Soda didn't respond to his crack. He wasn’t much of a morning person, to say the least. Trying to have a conversation with him before he was fully awake was like talking to a brick wall. He stared at the plate in front of him, picking up some of the eggs with his fork and spooning them into his mouth.
“Pony up yet?” Darry asked as he sat down at the table and started in on his breakfast.
Soda shook his head, chewing on a particularly large bite. He swallowed.
“No, he's still sleeping. He had a rough night last night.”
Darry frowned; he hadn't known about that.
“Did he throw up again?”
“No, he was just dizzy. He said it felt like the room was spinning. It took a while for him to fall asleep, and I don't know how much actual sleep he got. He must've been having bad dreams or something. He was thrashing around in the bed like a bull, nearly pushed me off the bed.”
Darry sighed, feeling bad for his little brother. He was certainly going to give him a stern talking-to about drinking later, but he wasn't cruel enough to start yelling at his brother when he was hungover and exhausted.
“Sorry, Soda.”
Soda shrugged, starting in on his toast. “It's okay. I got him to settle down eventually.”
Still, he knew this would be a rough morning for their baby brother.
As if on cue, footsteps sounded in the hallway as Pony appeared in the doorway, still in his boxers as well. One glance at him was enough to tell Darry that his little brother wasn't feeling well. He was shuffling his feet as he walked, wincing as if the lights were hurting his eyes. His skin was unnaturally pale, almost translucent, with a sickly green tinge, his hair sticking up on his head with bed head.
He sat down in his chair with a thud, the greenish hue spreading in his face as the smell of the food hit his nostrils. He swallowed convulsively, looking like he might throw up again at any minute.
“You okay, little buddy?” Darry asked. “Feelin’ sick still?”
Pony nodded slowly, swallowing again.
“My head hurts.” That was an understatement; it felt like someone was trying to hammer their way into his skull. The lights and the smell of the food weren't doing anything to make it any better.
“I figured it would,” Darry said, trying to keep the lecture out of his voice. “Try to eat a bit so you can take some aspirin. It'll help.”
Pony looked like he wanted to argue, but he couldn't deny that some aspirin sounded good right about now. He'd do anything to get relief from this headache. He picked up his fork and took a small bite of eggs, chewing it slowly for much longer than seemed necessary. He repeated this a few times before bile rose in his throat and he had to stop, pushing the plate away.
Soda was watching him as he inhaled his own breakfast.
“Come on, honey, eat a little more so you can take your medicine,” he said as if he were talking to a small child.
Dutifully, Pony did as told, choking down a few more bites of his eggs and some of his toast before he had to stop for fear of throwing up again right then and there.
“Can I have some aspirin now?”
Darry gave him a small smile in response as he stood and cleared Pony's plate away.
“Sure. Hang on, I'll be right back.”
He went to fetch the aspirin bottle from the medicine cabinet, bringing it into the kitchen and shaking out two into his palm instead of the four or five his baby brother was known to take. He handed them to Pony, who swallowed them with a sip of water.
“Why don't you go lay down while I clean up,” Darry said as he began clearing the table. “I'll come by in a bit to check on you.” Normally he would have expected Pony to help with the dishes, but not when he was very clearly hungover and miserable.
Pony nodded, standing up from his chair and walking out of the kitchen. Soda jumped up to follow him. Darry wasn't thrilled at being left to clean up all the dishes by himself, but he knew that having Soda around was the best thing for Pony when he wasn't feeling well, so he worked without complaint.
When he had dried and put away all the dishes, he headed to the bedroom Pony and Soda shared to check on them.
Pony was lying on his side in the bed, his arm drawn over his eyes as he groaned quietly. Soda was sitting by him on the bed, rubbing his arm comfortingly.
“Are you doing okay there, honey?”
Pony just groaned again in response, burying his head under the pillow.
“It's too bright in here, Soda,” He complained.
“It's not too bright, you're just hungover and sick,” Soda countered, although there was no malice behind his words. He continued to rub Pony's arm.
“Can you turn the lights off, Darry?”
“Sure,” Darry answered easily, trying to keep his voice low as he went to switch the lights off in the room. He knew all too well that everything sounded like firecrackers going off in your head when you were hungover.
As soon as the lights were turned off, Pony visibly relaxed, his muscles no longer tense with pain. He seemed to melt into Soda's touch as his older brother rubbed his back soothingly. Soda always had the magic touch, especially when it came to Ponyboy.
“Is that better, Pony?” He asked.
Pony nodded, his eyes starting to close. “Yeah. Thanks, Soda.”
“Sure, honey. Just rest, the aspirin will kick in soon.”
“Can I get you anything, Pony?” Darry asked, meaning to make his way out and let his brothers rest, but he figured he should at least ask and make sure.
Pony paused. “No. Hey, Darry?”
“Yeah, kiddo?”
“Um…” Ponyboy seemed to be fighting with himself over the words. “Do you think you could…y’know…stay? Until I fall asleep?”
Darry chuckled at his little brother's innocence. “Sure, little buddy, I can stay.” He lifted Soda's legs from where they were sprawled across the bed to make room for himself to sit down.
This caretaking stuff didn't come as naturally to him as it did to Soda, but he still wanted to make sure Pony was comfortable and able to rest. If that meant he had to sit with him while he slept, he would.
“Thanks, Darry,” Pony said, his nose wrinkling cutely as he yawned, reaching up a clumsy hand to cover his mouth.
“Sure thing, kiddo, now get some rest.”
He didn't have to ask twice; Pony closed his eyes without complaint and was asleep within minutes.
Soda smiled. “He's so cute when he's sleeping.”
Darry let out a laugh. “You think everything he does is cute. He's fourteen, Soda, he's not a baby anymore.”
“He's my baby. Don't act like he's not yours, too. You know you think he's adorable.”
Darry smiled; he guessed he couldn't deny that.
Pony slept soundly for a few hours before he woke up, taking in his surroundings. It was still dark in the room; at some point, Darry or Soda had pulled the curtains shut to block out the light. He was tired still, but he felt better than he had before going to sleep. The aspirin must have done its job to help.
Soda's arm was still around him as he snored, having fallen asleep too. Darry was sitting at the edge of the bed still, reading the newspaper. He smiled when he saw Ponyboy was awake.
“You're up. Are you feeling any better?”
Pony nodded, yawning. He didn't know why he couldn't stop yawning so much. Why was he still so tired?
“Yeah, thanks.”
Darry nodded. “You still got that headache?”
Pony thought for a minute. “A little, but it's not so bad anymore.” The pain had dulled down thanks to the aspirin.
“I'm never drinking again.”
Darry chuckled a bit. “Don't make promises you can't keep, kiddo,” he said as he set his newspaper down. “Anyway, you're not the first one of us to start drinking young. I had my first beer at a party in middle school. I was so sick the next day, I couldn't get out of bed. I told Mom I had the flu, but I think she knew the truth.” He shook his head, smiling.
Pony smiled too. It made sense. Their mother could spot a lie from a mile away, as their father used to say. There was no point in fibbing to her if you'd done something wrong; she would know about it before you were even willing to admit it.
“I miss her,” He said quietly.
Darry nodded, putting his hand on Pony's knee as he gave it a gentle pat. “Me too, kiddo. Me too.”
Soda began to stir then, yawning widely as he stretched his limbs. His gaze settled on his brothers.
“What’s goin’ on?” He asked sleepily.
Darry chuckled. “Don't worry about it. I was just talking to Pony. He says he's never drinking again.”
Soda grinned. “Really? I was looking forward to taking you out for rum and coke. When you're older of course,” he hastily added, seeing the look on Darry's face.
“Soda!” Darry snapped.
Soda put his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Sorry. Go ahead and give him the ‘alcohol is bad’ lecture, I won't interrupt ya,” He grinned.
Darry shook his head. “We'll save it for another time,” he said, “I think he's learned his lesson, don't you, Pony?”
Pony nodded, grinning sheepishly.
“Alright,” Darry said as he stood up, “I'll be right back.”
Soda raised an eyebrow. “Just where do you think you're going?”
“I gotta make a phone call.”
Darry went into the living room and picked the phone up from the receiver, dialing the number he wanted.
It rang once or twice before he answered. “Hello?”
“Hey, Two Bit,” Darry answered, “It's me.”
There was a pause. “Darry?”
“Yeah. Listen, I wanted to apologize for last night.”
“Darry, it's okay, really,” Two Bit answered before he could even get his apology out.
Darry shook his head. “No, it's not. I was angry about what happened to Pony, but it wasn't your fault. You didn't make him drink anything.”
“No, but I shouldn't have turned my back on him.”
Darry sighed. “I agree with you there, but you couldn't have stopped him from doing what he wanted to do. He's fourteen years old. Nobody can make him do anything he doesn't want to do.”
Two Bit chuckled. “Ain't that the truth? So how's he doing?”
“He got a hell of a hangover,” Darry answered, “Bout near threw up all over the kitchen table this morning. But he's okay now, he's just resting.”
Two Bit inhaled, whistling. “Boy howdy, he must have had quite a night then. Hangovers are a bitch.”
Darry smiled; even guilty and apologetic, Two Bit still had quite a mouth on him. He was glad Ponyboy wasn't around to hear it.
“Yeah.”
“Anyway, thanks. And I'm sorry again, Darry. I won't let it happen again,” Two Bit promised.
“I know it won't,” Darry grinned, “I'll skin you if it does. Talk to you later, Two Bit.” He hung up the phone, going back into the bedroom to check on his brothers. They were still on the bed, Soda's arm wrapped loosely around Pony's waist as they lay there together, both looking at him expectantly.
“Who was that, Darry?” Ponyboy asked, “Is everything okay?”
Darry just grinned. “Scoot over.”