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"Just call if you need anything, alright, darlin'?" The nurse said, her sweet, southern drawl interrupting Darry from his thoughts. His head shot up to look at her, her green eyes soft and sweet, reminding him of his mother. Of Ponyboy.
His stomach rolled as he continued to smooth down Pony's botched bleach hair in a weak attempt to comfort his little brother. But it was futile; it didn't cease his feverish writhing in the uncomfortable hospital bed. But Darry took a breath (that was a bit too shaky than he'd like to admit), and nodded, trying to give the nurse his best smile. She nodded back, not without a bit of hesitation, and left the room, softly pulling the curtain shut behind her, leaving Darry alone with his half-unconscious little brother and his thoughts.
He almost wished he hadn't sent Sodapop home. It was eerie for them to be alone in the hospital room. Luckily, the heart monitor had been taken off a few hours ago, so he didn't need to listen to the incessant beeping anymore, but instead just the pounding of his own heart, Pony's shuddering breaths, and the soft bustling of the hospital. About a half-hour ago, he made Steve drive Soda home to take a shower to get all the dirt and blood off him from the rumble the night before and to take a nap. Not that he thinks Soda would be able to sleep well, but he made Steve promise he'd do anything to get the kid to at least lay down in bed and take a breather for ten minutes.
He continued to stroke Pony's hair, pressing the wet cloth the nurses gave him against his forehead to try and fight the fever. It hadn't changed much from when they were finally admitted late last night, and they gave him some paracetamol, but the nurses insisted that the cool cloth would make him more comfortable physically. It's not like it was particularly high or dangerous anyhow, the doctors were mainly worried about his concussion. And once they understood the severity of it, they'd be sent home when seen fit. So far, they had high hopes he'd be able to leave by the end of the day.
Not that Darry was complaining. The less time they'd spent here, the better it'd be on his and Soda’s next few paychecks. Plus, he could handle nursing Ponyboy back from a fever at home, and he can't help but feel an impending sense of doom in this damn place.
As long as these 'episodes' stopped.
Or so he liked to call them. Darry's not totally sure what causes them. The nurse says it's probably a bit of everything: the concussion, fever, exhaustion, and trauma. She thinks he’s facing hallucinations, and with the way Pony’s calling out for their dead friends and warning him about the fire that’s apparently in the hallway, Darry wouldn’t be too shocked.
Every twenty minutes or so Pony’s eyes would crack open and for a second Darry would feel a glimmer of hope that he was more lucid than the last time until Pony would profusely stutter out apologies until he cried himself back to sleep. No matter what Darry did, he could never seem to cause him. No matter how comforting the words, Ponyboy always seemed like he was elsewhere, his eyes darting around the room apprehensively. When Pony tried to sit up at one point, Darry only placed his hands on his bony shoulders to gently push him back down when his brother flinched under his grasp. Darry has at least half the mind to understand that Ponyboy was only reacting like that because he was on edge from sickness, but it still didn’t make him feel too hot.
And after all this, when Pony would tire himself out and he’d fall into a restless sleep again, Darry would slump back into the uncomfortable hospital chair and absentmindedly play with Ponyboy’s tangled hair, careful to avoid the white bandage and wait for something more to happen.
It hadn’t been too long since Pony had last worked himself up again. He was up when the nurse had walked in, coming to give Darry a fresh wash cloth and a small bowl of cold water. She had tried her hand at soothing him as well, telling him he was sick and that he was alright and just needed to rest (things Darry realized were futile a long time ago), but Darry could see the worry in the nurse’s eyes when she settled him back down no matter how much she tried to put up a front for him.
So he was a little taken off guard when Ponyboy shot up like a bullet from the hospital bed out of the blue.
Okay, maybe not a little; a lot.
“Woah, Pony,” Darry exclaimed, hands flying to his little brother’s shoulders to keep him in place, because it looked like he was about to bolt.
“Darry, the fire! It’s outside, we need to go!” Ponyboy shouted, voice raw and desperate in a way Darry had never in his life heard before. He was gasping for air and his hands gripped Darry’s biceps with a strength that surprised him. Darry swore he could hear Pony’s heart racing as well, but it could just as well be his own.
“Pony, there’s no fire. You’re in the hospital, calm down,” Darry tried, keeping Ponyboy to the bed when he tried to throw himself off, kicking his legs out in a wild attempt at escape.
This is new, Darry thought, and he realized how warm Pony’s feverish hands were through his old, throw over flannel shirt.
“No, I need to find Johnny! He’s still in there!” Pony cried, his voice hysterical as he tried to yank his shoulders out of Darry’s grip. But Darry persisted, grunting when Pony shoved at his chest yet not letting him go. The kid was as sick as a dog, but he was fast as hell when he wanted to be and he wouldn’t put it past his brother that he’d be out of the unit and bolting through the hospital in three seconds tops. He was ranked number one on his track team for a reason.
“No, Pony, you need to lay down,” Darry tried again, his voice high and desperate.
Pony acted as if he couldn’t hear him (he probably couldn’t with the state he was in), and let out anguished grunts as he slammed his hands onto Darry’s chest, his legs kicking out like a wild horse. Darry wanted to grab his hands, because the blows were starting to hurt, but he didn’t want to risk Pony getting away. Just then, the nurse threw the curtain open again, another nurse they’ve never seen before and the doctor in tow.
“What’s happening?” The doctor asked, voice alarmed as he saw the state the two of them were in. The two nurses walking to either side of the bed, the familiar one with the blonde ponytail and green eyes scribbling down some vitals and the unknown one hovering her hands over Ponyboy’s thrashing form. She seemed to be frightened and Darry wanted to scream at her to either do something or get out.
“I don’t know, this just started!” Darry exclaimed, shouting without really meaning too. Ponyboy began to sob, and Darry hoped it would mean a sign of defeat, but he only picked up his struggles. Finally, the new nurse sprang into action, and grabbed Pony by the hands.
“Must we restrain him?” The other nurse asked the doctor. She murmured in a way where she probably didn’t want Darry to hear her suggest it, but he did anyway.
“No!” Darry shouted immediately. Like hell he’d let these strangers treat his brother like a wild animal when he was just sick. Luckily, the doctor seemed to have the same idea.
“No. Sam, get benzodiazepines. He needs to be sedated or his head injury will worsen.” The doctor said in an even tone, and the new nurse who was grabbing Ponyboy’s hands hastily let go and bustled out of the small cubicle. Pony’s hands immediately found Darry’s face and began to land blows there, as well, much to Darry’s misfortune.
Darry let go of one of his shoulders and managed to grip both of Pony’s wrists in one hand. This only made Ponyboy sob louder, and he called out for Johnny, their parents, and even him and Soda. Tears sprang into Darry’s eyes immediately and he wished he and his brother were anywhere in the world but here.
“Benzodiazepines are sedatives, just so you know.” The doctor clarified, his hand firm on the back of Darry’s shoulder. He tried to nod in understanding, but he was so preoccupied with Pony that he didn’t know if the gesture got across properly.
The other nurse ran back into the cubicle, a needle and small vial in hand. She whipped the curtain shut behind her and the other nurse took it from her hands, who had previously been messing with the IV liquids and pole.
“Ponyboy, honey, we’re gonna calm you down now, okay? Everything’s alright, your brothers right here.” The new nurse tried to comfort Pony, her hands gently placed onto his shoulders, but she didn’t do much. Darry fought the urge to push her away.
Suddenly she pulled the short sleeve of his hospital gown up over his shoulder, and the familiar nurse came in quick with the needle and it disappeared into his skin. With this, Ponyboy let out a wail and tried to pull his arm away, but the new nurse was stronger in this moment than before, and he didn’t let his arm go anywhere.
After a few more seconds, Ponyboy’s movements slowly but surely became more sluggish; his eyelids looked as though they were being pulled shut by an invisible string and his hits became less continuous and aggressive with each passing second. Eventually, he became slack enough to the point where Darry felt it was safe enough to let go on Ponyboy’s wrists and pull him into his chest. Tears still leaked from Pony’s eyes, soaking Darry’s flannel shirt, and he still let out quiet cries. Darry just rubbed his back trying to console him as best he could. But as Ponyboy drifted back into unconsciousness and the doctor and nurses slowly crept out of the cubicle, Darry knew good and well that this was only the beginning.