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Two-Bit didn’t remember how he got to be at the front door of the Curtis house. He thinks he walked. Well, more so stumbled, but he eventually did get there. Everything was a little hazy to him.
What he did remember was pain. He recalled a bunch of socs were on top of him out of nowhere, and that he had no time or warning to defend himself before he became overwhelmed with angry, violent bodies.
Two-Bit prided himself on being a good fighter. Hell, it’s why the socs didn’t mess with him all that much. At least when he was with the others, but even when Two-Bit was alone, he could take two or three on his own with just a couple of bruises and a split lip as a result. This time was different.
The Socs were angry, real angry. The kind of rage you run away from because you have no idea what that person is gonna do when they set their eyes on you. They had vengeance in their bones and a desire to kick something like a bad-behaved dog.
Two-Bit could take a punch to the face, a kick to the ribs, a shove that knocked the wind out of you. The Socs did all that when they found him, and Two-Bit could handle the violence if not more.
But when that Soc girl, the one Two-Bit thought was pretty once in his life, held that cigarette to his face and pressed the lit end to his cheek, well…Two-Bit wasn’t sure he’d felt that kind of pain before. He couldn’t move, couldn’t even defend himself with five boys holding him, trapping him to the ground while she pressed the burning end to his skin.
The best he could do was kick and scream and silently beg for it to stop as the searing heat burned into his cheek. He’d closed his eyes while it happened, hoping it was just a bad dream that would be over soon. But it had been real. So real that Two-Bit thought it would kill him. He’d never been that helpless before as his body told him to panic, as he fought and yelled and shut his eyes so tight he saw stars behind his eyelids.
He’d opened his eyes when she pulled it off his face, and was met with violent blue eyes staring at him with a proudness he feared. She’d smirked, flicking the cigarette off in the distance. The socs had let him go and left him with a message. “Next Saturday night, Pershing Park.”
All that for a declaration of war. They had left after that.
But Two-Bit had laid there for a while, sucking in air and trying to manage the pain. His ribs ached and his face still burned. He picked himself up eventually, not because of a final push in strength, but because he was afraid they would return and do worse to him.
Eventually, his aching body brought him here, outside a place where he always felt safe. Two-Bit hated to force another problem on them, but he refused to let his sister see him like this; beat up and bloody. She couldn’t see him as weak. He hoped Darry understood that and wouldn’t be too upset that he came here.
Two-Bit racked his knuckles on the door, dragging them down the door as he clutched his ribs with his other hand. He didn’t know how late it was, but the sun had gone down a while ago. He hoped he wasn’t waking anyone. They’ve been through enough this past week.
He heard noise through the door, cartoons by the sound of it. It was silenced a moment later, followed by the front door opening.
“You know you can just open the door-“
Soda paused with his hand on the door. Two-Bit realized one of his eyes had to have been swollen partially shut, cause he couldn’t see Soda very well. What he did see was the frozen expression Soda’s face fell into. Did Two-Bit genuinely look that bad?
“Hey, Soda,” Two-Bit managed, regretting it a moment later when his cheek stung. “I need some help.”
Two-Bit doubled over, fatigue catching up to him. Soda caught him immediately, thankfully taking lots of the weight Two-Bit’s barely been holding.
“Shit! Darry!” Soda hollard. He dragged Two-Bit inside, hand under his arms, barely managing to help him up.
“Soda, I got work in the morning you can’t be yelling in the middle of the-”
Soda plopped Two-Bit on the couch, but his eyes were closed and he didn’t notice Darry halt in his tracks. Two-Bit assumed he must have looked awful if Darry of all people was rendered speechless.
Once on the couch, Two-Bit opened his eyes; Darry stood in the middle of the room while Soda sat next to Two-Bit on the couch. Two-Bit was tired and a little delirious, but he noticed Soda had his hand on the back of his head, his fingers in his hair. It helped keep Two-Bit from dropping his head from exhaustion, so he was thankful for that, at least.
“What the hell happened?” Darry asked. Two-Bit didn’t know when he moved, but suddenly Darry was kneeling in front of him, checking him over. He’d taken on that irritated yet concerned tone Two-Bit had heard him use with Pony and Soda before.
“Got jumped by the Socs,” Two-Bit said, whining without meaning to when Darry touched his side softly, checking for an injury. “They were angry ‘bout Bob. They said…they said they wanna rumble soon.”
Darry shared a look with Soda. Two-Bit felt Soda’s hand in his hair somehow get tighter. It didn’t hurt, and the touch comforted him more than he cared to admit.
“This was a warning,” Darry stated. Soda’s face reflected something resembling anger. It was a rare look on him.
Darry’s expression changed again, and his eyes glanced down to Two-Bit’s cheek. Knowing immediately what, Two-Bit suddenly wanted to shrink away. He didn’t fight it when Darry moved his chin to the right he could take a look at what was likely a circular burn on his face. Two-Bit shut his eyes tightly, feeling ashamed cause’ of it. He saw it all over again; that girl with the smug smile, a lit cigarette between her fingers so close to his eyes he’d closed them just as tightly as he did now. Shutting his eyes didn’t help; he was seeing it all over again.
“What the hell,” Darry said. “This is-”
Two-Bit shook his head, suddenly feeling embarrassed for coming here in the first place. “It’s okay, leave it, I shouldn’t have come in the first palace. I’ll go home, I’m sorry to wake you two up-”
Two strong hands pushed him back down onto the couch. Soda and Derry both had a hand on either one of his shoulders, both with expressions telling Two-Bit he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.
“Screw that,” Soda said. “You could barely stand at our door ten seconds ago.”
“I’m fine-”
“Soda, grab the first aid kit,” Darry ordered, giving no room for argument. Darry walked away in long, angry strides.
Soda looked from Two-Bit, to Darry. His eyebrows contorted in confusion. “What about you?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Darry said as he threw on his flannel, and slipped on his shoes.
Soda looked confused but left Two-Bits side anyway to grab the aid kit.
“Darry-”
Darry turned around right as he got to the door. “Just take care of him, okay?” Darry opened up the door, looking at Soda one last time. “Don’t argue with me, Soda.”
“Darry!”
But Darry was already gone with a slam of the door. Two-Bit guessed he should feel good that someone cared, even if it was an angry Darry who already had so much on his plate. Soda, on the other hand, didn’t seem to share the same sentiment regarding his brother.
Soda cursed to himself as he kneeled down in front of Two-Bit. He gathered a rag in his hand Two-Bit hoped was clean, and some rubbing alcohol. Soda was silent as he held up a cloth covered with some alcohol next to Two-Bits face, both quiet as his hovered over him.
“This ain’t gonna feel nice or nothin’.”
At the very least, Soda was honest with him. Two-Bit wanted to stop him and do it himself, but he knew if he lifted his arm slightly right now, his ribs would start screaming at him again. So, he sat there silently as Soda wiped at the burn on his face, immediately hissing when the alcohol met an open wound.
Soda muttered an apology as he did the same thing to a cut on his cheek. All the while, Two-Bit looked away. He felt ashamed that he put this on them, that he was too distracted to notice before he got jumped and beaten worse than he’d ever been beaten before by any Socs. He thought of her, and tried his best to think of anything else.
“I don’t think putting a bandage on here is worth it,” Soda said, examining Two-Bit. He moved his face around to get a better look. “Best just let it heal on its own.”
Two-Bit didn’t argue. He knew he was being uncharacteristically quiet, but he couldn’t find it in himself to make a wise-cracking comment, or even try to make light of the situation. With Pony and Johnny missing, the whole gang separated, and everything else that’s happened, he didn’t have it in him.
“Keith?”
Two-Bit realized he’d been dozing off. At the sound of his given name, he focused back on Soda.
“Huh?”
Soda stared at him. “Your shirt. Based on how you’re breathing, you gotta few cracked ribs.”
Two-Bit figured as much. Not broken, definitely not broken, or else he wouldn’t be breathing with relative ease, considering. Slowly, out of sheer pain, he slipped his overall strap off his shoulder and with help from Soda that Two-Bit tried not to be too embarrassed by, got his wife-beater off as well.
Two-Bit didn’t look down at himself. By the expression of Soda’s face (he was never good at hiding his emotions) he knew his torso was probably covered in bruises. He could feel it with each sharp breath that felt like knives stabbing softly at his lungs.
Soda was staring too. He had an expression Two-Bit wasn’t sure how to read. Either way, he looked sad, and it was so unlike Soda not to smile it made Two-Bit angry at the world.
“Soda.”
He looked at him, finally.
“Can I get some ice? Maybe some Tylenol?”
Soda seemed to be shaken from his trance, quickly got up, and ran to the kitchen. It gave Two-Bit a moment to himself to take a deep breath he’d been holding back, because it took a lot of energy and grimacing to inhale that much air. It was a bit of a relief, and when Soda came back with an ice pack and a small pill, he was all the more grateful for his friend.
“Thank you,” Two-Bit said as he took the ice from Soda, and pressed it to his ribs. There was some relief as the coldness of the ice quickly numbed his skin. He took the pill dry as well, not willing to wait for water.
Soda stayed put, which didn’t surprise Two-Bit all that much. He sat on the floor in front of him with his arms resting on his knees, watching him like Two-Bit might stop breathing the second he looked away. It unnerved him a bit.
“I’m fine, Soda-”
“What happened?”
Two-Bit saw the questions coming. He didn’t want to pretend it was nothing, 'cause it was him, and Two-Bit didn’t lie or get serious about stuff like this. He always joked about this sort of thing to lighten the mood. He was always the one patching someone else up whenever they got jumped. Hell, a few months ago, his and Soda’s roles were reversed and Two-Bit was the one nursing Soda’s black eye after he was punched by a Soc whose girl had flirted with him.
“I got jumped,” Two-Bit said truthfully. Still, there was meaning hidden behind that truth, because he didn’t know how else to explain it. He figured he’d try. “And there was a whole lot of ‘em this time, Soda. Even some Soc girls…”
Two-Bit saw her again; the blondie with the cig. He shut his mouth as the memories washed over him again. Her hair, her blue eyes, the kind that resembled Soda’s almost. He remembered the orange high of the cigarette the most.
His cheek still stung.
“Hey.” Soda put his hand on Two-Bit’s shoulder. Two-Bit didn’t remember him sitting next to him. “You’re alright, alright?”
His smile was back, and it put Two-Bit at ease, somehow. He needed Soda’s relentless optimism more than he knew. Two-Bit nodded his head because he didn’t have the words to thank him. He was glad Soda opened the door when he did.
Soda leaned forward and knocked his forehead against Two-Bits, shaking him a bit. It lightened Two-Bit up, and he allowed himself to smile.
He jumped back at the sudden noise of a wooden door opening. Darry walked in, shucking off his jacket immediately. Soda stood up, and surprisingly to Two-Bit and it seemed his older brother, shoved Darry’s shoulder hard enough to knock him back a few paces.
“Where’d you go?” Soda demanded and he closed in again on Darry.
Two-Bit shrunk a bit, sensing the rising tension between the two brothers. He wondered how well they had been getting along since Pony disappeared. Stress makes you angry, and anger makes you do rash things.
“Nothing my kid brother should worry about,” Darryb responded, kicking off his shoes and showing a surprising sense of restraint at his brother shoving him.
“Bullshit.”
“Watch your mouth,” Darry warned.
“I’m not a child, Darry,” Soda retaliated. Two-Bit looked between them, feeling out of his element. He was used to seeing Pony and Darry argue, but not Darry and Sodapop. Two-Bit always thought it was impossible for Soda to be mad at anyone.
“Did you go looking for a fight?” Soda continued, waving his arm around. Two-Bits never seen him to infuriated. “You ran out of her like a bat out of hell and don’t say nothin’ to me!”
“I didn’t, alright!” Darry yelled back. He lowered his voice a moment later. “I went to check on Steve and Ace, tell ‘em what happened.”
“What?” Two-Bit said, sitting up slightly.
“I told ‘em to stay aware,” he said to Two-Bit, before turning back to Soda. “Ace is staying with Steve, just making sure everyone is accounted for, alright?”
Soda was quiet, but Darry got closer, lowering his voice as stared his brother in the eyes. “How about you watch your volume before you start accusing me of things, Sodapop. I’ve been raising you boys without fighting with socs this long, so have a little damn faith in me.”
Soda was still upset, Two-Bit could tell. Soda didn’t usually get mad, but when he did, it was like he was always trying to suppress it before he exploded, like he couldn’t allow people to see him that way. Two-Bit watched with bated breath as the two oldest Curtis brothers stared each other down.
Eventually, Soda relented first. He turned around and walked into his room, slamming his door shut behind him. Two-Bit jumped at the sound, glancing over at Darry, expecting him to burst into the room and yell at his younger brother about slamming doors in houses or whatever.
Instead, Darry exhaled deeply, his shoulder slumping significantly. He took a seat next to Two-Bit and dragged his hands down his face. His shoulder fell slightly, and he looked exhausted. Way older than his twenty years. He wasn’t all that much older than Two-Bit, but sometimes he thought Darry could have been ten years his senior by the way he held himself these days.
There was an awkward quiet as the two of them sat on the couch, both exhausted, both at their possible worst. Two-Bit wanted to break the silence but didn’t know how. Thankfully, Darry did it for him.
“He blames me for Pony running away.” Two-Bit looked over just in time to see Darry drop his hands from his face, eyes and face red from the pressure as he stared up at the ceiling. “He’s angry but won’t say it. The worst part is he’s right.”
Two-Bit didn't know what to say to that. Now and again, he found himself like this with Darry. Two-Bit was a little older than the others, and that, in a way, made him Darry’s closest confidant. At least now he was. It used to be Soda, but since their parents passed, Darry refused to let either one of his brothers see him as weak.
“It ain’t your fault,” Two-Bit said. “It was those damn socs who jumped him.”
Darry looked away. He was avoiding Two-Bit because a tear fell down his cheek and he tried to hide it. Two-Bit looked ahead for Darry’s benefit, allowing him privacy for a moment. Really, there was none, but the semblance of it might help.
“Yeah, well, clearly it’s only gotten worse,” Darry finally said, voice horse.
Two-Bit knew what he was talking about; he was the most recent example. He felt like shit, was sure he looked like shit, and feared he could only be the first in a long line of causalities if they didn’t nip this in the bud.
“We gotta fight them. At a rumble.”
Darry went quiet. Silently, he seemed to debate this fact, but Two-Bit knew that Darry knew there was no other way. This wasn’t something they could just ignore, not anymore.
Still, Darry shook his head. “We don’t have to think about this right now, Two.” Darry put a hand on his shoulder, and it was comforting, more so than Two-Bit expected. He felt grounded.
He focused back on Darry. “You gotta rest. Listen, stay here tonight and I’ll call your mom–”
“Darry,” Two-Bit began to argue, eyes going wide at the prospect of going home right now. Not like this. He didn’t want to worry his mom or sister.
“No, trust me,” Darry said, and he sounded so sure of his mind, that Two-Bit had no choice but to listen to him.
Darry smiled at him, and Two-Bit almost forgot he’d been crying a moment earlier. “Your mom would want to know where you are. Trust me, once she knows she’ll be alright.”
Two-Bit wanted to argue but even he knew Darry was right. His mother was an incredibly reasonable woman, never minding when Two-Bit was gone too long, just as long as he always came home. And he always did.
“Stay here,” Darry continued. “Go home tomorrow and explain then.”
Darry squeezed his shoulder. The pain in Two-Bits side was dull now thanks to the ice and Tylenol, but it was still constant. He knew even if he could breathe fine, walking home would be a pain. He needed his rest, and the Curtis household has always been a place of safety. It wasn’t going to stop being that now.
Darry asked Two-Bit one last time. “Please, Two. Stay.”
Two-Bit sighed. He looked down and nodded, relenting. Darry smiled and squeezed his shoulder again before patting him, almost like a father would. Two-Bit chuckled at the thought.
A door opening tore his attention from the ground. Soda was standing outside his now open door, looking slightly awkward with his hands buried in his pockets. He glanced a look at Darry; neither said anything to the other, but sometimes looks louder than words, especially between siblings. The awkwardness was replaced with something resembling forgiveness.
“Two can sleep in here,” Soda said, leaning off the doorframe.
Darry frowned. “You sure, Soda?”
“Yes,” Soda nodded. “Come on, Two.”
Two-Bit was unsure. He’d expected to be given the couch, definitely not the room Pony slept in. Still, Two-Bit got up with some help from Darry, and he entered Soda’s room feeling apprehensive but grateful for a bed. He heard Darry dial a number on the phone, followed by “Hi, Ms. Mathews?” before the door closing muffled his voice.
Two-Bit walked in hesitantly. He looked around the room, and it was so obviously a home of Ponyboy it hurt. His books were littered across the room, his backpack from school on a chair along with a shirt he recognized as his on the ground. The reminder Pony was gone pierced his chest, hard.
Soda handed Two-Bit a pair of sweatpants. He took it gratefully. Soda left the room for a moment Two-Bit took the chance to remove his overalls and slip on the pants.
He got a glance of himself in the mirror and cringed at the image. He hadn’t actually seen himself since he was jumped. His arms were bruised and cut up from behind held on gravel, and a nasty bruise was forming on the back of his shoulder when he’d been first thrown onto the ground. Hesitantly, he lifted his shirt and found his torso beginning to turn an ugly purple color. It covered his ribs and stomach, disappearing only around his chest. He quickly lowered his shirt before he threw up. Then, he got a look at his face.
His right eye was bruising, and partially swollen shut. He had a cut on his lip and a small bump and bruise forming on his forehead. He could feel his breathing pick up.
He turned his cheek, and the burn was right there for everyone to see. It was circular, clearly put there deliberately. He hated it so much. He wished he could scrape it off, destroy it, and never look at it again.
Blond hair and blue eyes crossed his vision. A smile that could kill you followed with the laugh that made you think hey, she’s alright. She did laugh when she held it. It echoed in Two-Bits head, and his face burned.
He shut his eyes tightly and faced away from the mirror. He covered his face with his hands as he forced the image of her out of his mind. He dug the palms of his hand into his eyes until he saw stars. It didn’t work as well as he’d hoped.
“You alright?”
The voice distracted him enough so he saw another pair of blue eyes: Soda’s.
Soda was standing by the door with a wet rag in his hand. He tossed it at Two-Bit, who caught it against his chest.
“For your face.” Soda managed a small grin. “You’re a bit dirty.”
He said with the lightheartedness of a joke. Two-Bit managed to smile as well.
“Thanks,” he said as he wiped at his neck, wiping off the sweat and dirt that had culminated.
He moved on to his face as Soda into his bed. As Two-Bit cleaned himself off, he watched as Soda leaned back, resting his wrists on his forehead. He looked tense and tired, not at all his 16-years. Hell, Two-Bit would have guessed she was older than even himself based on how tired he looked.
Two-Bit placed the now dirty towel in the hamper that was a pillowcase in the corner of the room. He hovered over the bed, unsure.
“I can sleep on the floor,” he started. Soda opened his eyes and leaned up. “I know you share a bed with Pony but I’m a lot bigger and I don’t wanna put you out”
Soda sighed as he pushed himself up so his back was against the headboard. He looked at Twp-bit, his head titled to the side. “Two-Bit, stop talking and get in the damn bad.”
Two-Bit shut his mouth and did in fact get in the damn bad.
He and Soda hadn’t shared a bed since they were little boys. Back then, Twp-bit spent most of his time at the Curtis household; he loved his sister, he did, but there was something nice about being in a house filled with boys around his own age. He’d gotten used to climbing into either Darry or Soda’s bed as a child, neither caring he slept in it with them; you could do that as a little boy.
He loved those nights; then, he’d just laugh and joke with them, unable to sleep until Ms. Curtis came in and scolded them for giggling like little monsters (that’s what she always called them). When Two-Bit was real little, sometimes Mr. Curtis would come in and tickle them until they were so tired they had to sleep.
The memory warmed Two-Bits heart. The reality of it all set in again when he saw a sweater on the edge of a chair; it belonged to Pony.
“I haven’t been sleeping.”
Soda’s voice distracted him from his thoughts. He glanced over at Soda, who was staring at the ceiling with his hands folded on his stomach. He was fidgeting with his thumbs as he spoke.
“Darry stays on that couch by the phone all night until he falls asleep. We’ve been arguing. I never used to argue with him.”
Two-Bit wasn’t sure what to say to that. He’s never been so out of his element while at the Curtis house; it was a place he escaped to, especially when he was real little and his parents would fight non-stop. That all was all before his father left them, but even after his own house became a place he felt he could call home, the Curtis family was always a walk away, welcoming him with open arms. Darry managed to keep that up even after their parents passed; Pony’s absence made that feeling not so strong anymore.
“I'm sorry I’m here and not him.”
Two-Bit didn’t look to see how Soda responded to this. He felt guilty; why was Two-Bit here, sleeping in his bed, when Pony deserved it more than he did? He was a good-for-nothing, drunk asshole half the time.
He shouldn’t be here. Pony should. Two-Bit didn’t deserve any of this, he could have just stayed on the ground and let that blond girl finish the job. He should have never come here. He should have stayed out there, where he belonged.
“Two-Bit, listen to me.”
Two-Bit didn’t notice when Soda sat up, or when he somehow found himself beside Two-Bit on the bed. He was sitting cross-legged in front of him as he forced Two-Bit to do the same; he felt like they were little boys all of a sudden again when their biggest problems were that Darry wouldn’t let Soda use his football, or that Two-Bit’s sister wouldn’t stop crying in the middle of the night.
Soda managed to look under his eyes and got Two-Bit to stop staring at his hands. “I miss him more than you know; he’s my little brother; of course, I wish he was here.” Soda’s breath hitched slightly like he was trying not to cry. He closed his eyes and breathed, regaining his composure before looking back at Two-Bit. “I need to know he’s alright, but knowing you’re alright is enough, too.”
If Two-Bits eyes watered and a tear managed to escape, Soda didn’t mention it. He forced himself to look away before he cried more; Soda cared so damn much it nearly killed him. He wasn’t all that used to it, that kinda care that came from someone who wasn’t his mother, let alone a friend or somebody like a Curtis brother.
“She burned me, Soda,” Two-Bit said. He didn’t look Soda in the eye, and thankfully Soda didn’t make any move to try and make him. He didn’t say anything at all. Two-Bit took that as permission to keep talking.
Two-Bit inhaled, composing his mind. “She looked at me in the eye as she did and…” Two-Bit paused, the memory flashing before him again. He shut his eyes, willing himself to forget the blueness of her eyes juxtaposed with the brightness of the lit cigarette. It didn’t work.
Two-Bit managed to look at Soda, knowing he could without feeling too pathetic. He was a mess, a bit depressed, and maybe a little broken, but the great thing about Soda being his friend was that he would never judge him for it.
“I felt so…helpless, Soda.” It was hard, to find the right words for it. “The worst part is I know if I’d fought back if I’d tried to stop her, I would have only been… been beaten worse-”
His breath hitching and the inability to suppress his emotions interrupted Two-Bit mid-sentence. He couldn’t prevent it anymore. He let the tears flow, the salt from his cries stinging his bloody and bruised face.
It all hurt too much. Everything about everything. Ponyboy, his family, and his entire body screaming at him whenever he breathed too deeply. All Two-Bit felt was hurt, and he just wanted it to stop.
An arm snaked around his shoulder. Two-Bit kept his eyes closed, his arms close to his chest but didn’t fight it when Soda pulled him closer. He felt Soda guide him, and Two-Bit gave up and let Soda do what he wanted. He didn’t have it in him to fight him off, to pretend he was alright and make a quip about Soda always being so emotional.
Soda’s arm was tight around his shoulder, flushing his chest against Two-Bit’s back as he got him to lay down slightly across him. Two-Bit was tense, he felt vulnerable and weak, and he almost wanted to shove Soda away violently, to make him realize Two-Bit could take care of himself, that he wasn’t some child. Two-Bit didn’t know why he didn’t.
“I know,” Soda said, arms tight around Two-Bit. “You don’t gotta talk, but you don’t gotta hide either, Keith. You’re safe here.”
Two-Bit let out a sob, and Soda just held on tighter. At that moment, Two-Bit felt like he could fight all he wanted, and Soda would never give in. He could kick and scream, and the kid behind him would kick and scream louder and harder if it meant he could help Two-Bit.
So, Two-Bit let him. He lay there as Soda began rocking them both, crying and crying. He hadn’t cried like this since he was a kid, maybe since his Dad left. Hell, when he left Two-Bit came crying to the Curtis household, and he found himself in a similar position.
Soda never judged him for it. For the rest of however long he cried for, Soda stayed with him, providing comfort that Two-Bit hadn’t known he needed until he came here.
Or maybe he did know. Maybe that’s why his body, when it was bruised and broken, brought him here, to this household where he always felt safe.
The image of that girl slowly began to disappear. Sharp blue eyes were replaced with softer blue ones, the burning replaced by an ache made sharper by his tears. That was alright though. Two-Bit was right.
He fell asleep, eventually. In Soda and Pony’s bed, with Soda beside him keeping the monsters at bay. He understood then why Pony decided to share a bed with Soda after everything; the kid was a miracle worker.
Two-Bit fell asleep easier than he expected. His chest ached and his eye stung, but the burning on his cheek was becoming a distant memory soon to be lost in a place Two-Bit never had to be in again.
As he slept, if he kept a finger grazed across Soda's arm to ground him to where he was, then Soda didn’t mention it.
He fell asleep to darkness, and he welcomed it wholeheartedly.