Work Text:
Ponyboy could've sobbed in relief once he saw Darry's truck pull into the school's parking lot. It had been the longest day of his life; it was sweltering out and Coach Grant had really put them through the ringer today. The fact that he forgot his water in Darry's car this morning didn't help, and he knew that the water from the water fountain would leave him dead before whatever heat sickness he had right now. His friend had let him take a few sips from his water bottle before they did the last few exercises of the day, but that had been at least an hour ago at this point; he was sure all the water had left his body within five minutes in sweat.
Pony hauled his track bag onto his shoulder, which felt a million times heavier than this morning for some reason. He stood back up on shaky legs and walked over to the curb, wincing when he had to step out of the cool shade into the blistering heat of the sun, and waited for Darry's truck to pull up in front of him.
He lugged the door open as soon as the truck stopped and threw his bag onto the seat, apologizing when he did it too harshly and accidentally nudged Darry in the leg.
"How was it?" Darry asked, not really acknowledging Pony's bag or excuse, and instead just pushing it away so it sat between the two of them. But Ponyboy wasn't paying much attention, and before he even shut the door, he was reaching under the seat to retrieve the stupid water bottle he left the morning. His mouth was dryer than the Sahara desert and he'd never wish this type of thirst on anyone- it was pure torture.
"Oh, yeah, you left that earlier. Sorry I didn't notice until I came to pick you up." Darry said, but it seemingly went unnoticed by Ponyboy as he hastily unscrewed the cap and began to chug the thing. He grimaced as his tongue was met with uncomfortably warm water, no doubt because it was simmering in Darry's truck all day, but he didn't care. It was better than nothing.
Except, after he chugged almost half the water bottle, he realized it's not better than nothing as the almost hot water did nothing to soothe his aching throat or body temperature. He screwed it shut and climbed into the truck, wiping the back of his hand over his sweaty forehead and pulled the door shut behind him. Normally, he would at least try to hide his illnesses from his brothers, even if it meant telling them he didn't feel good but not giving them the true lowdown of his symptoms. But right now, he was too exhausted to care.
"Jeez, you okay?" Darry asked, looking at Pony concerned as he laid his head against the window. He gave him a half-assed nod and Darry gripped the wheel a bit tighter as he took his kid brother's appearance in: flushed cheeks, nearly drenched in sweat, exhausted, and so thirsty he'd be willing to drink from a bottle that's been sitting on the bottom of a non-air conditioned car? Darry had his own experience with heat exhaustion in the past from various football practices in late summer, and it was never pretty. He hoped that's not what Pony had as he practically watched him doze off in the passenger's seat, but that was wishful thinking.
He reached out to feel Ponyboy's forehead, but his hand flinched away at the sudden sound of a car honking at him from behind, and Pony just about shot up from his seat at the noise. Ponyboy winced when the movement only worsened his dizziness, and he realized with dismay just how nauseated he felt all of the sudden. He watched as Darry gave a stink eye to the annoyed parent waiting for his spot to pick up their kid through the rear view mirror and started to drive off, and Pony rested his head back onto the window. He wrapped his arms around his stomach; along with the newly found nausea, the cramps in his abdomen from the last drill Coach Grant had them do never fully went away and it was starting to get annoying. Usually he's able to bounce back pretty quick from any sort of track practice, but now it felt like weights kept him tethered to the seat and he could hardly move an inch without it sucking all the life out of him.
"Pony?" Darry called softly from beside him, and he cracked his eyes open as the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. He glanced out the window and realized that they were almost home already, and that they were stopped at a stop light about to turn onto their street. "How are you feeling?"
Pony merely shrugged his shoulders, but Darry sent him a stern look and he started to tell him his symptoms.
"I'm tired and really hot," He mumbled. In the back of his mind, he realized he was probably being rude; Darry was nice enough to pick him up after a long day at work and was trying to understand why he felt bad, but Pony could hardly get himself to form a complete sentence.
"Yeah? What else?" Darry asked, pulling his hand back so he could drive again and turned onto their street.
Pony shrugged, trying to figure out what else was wrong. Or, honestly, what wasn't wrong. Everything felt worn and crampy, especially his legs, and he felt like at any second he'd pass out and crack his head open on the dashboard. The dizziness and headaches hadn't stopped either, and the nausea... it was like nothing he ever felt before! And it had gotten significantly worse within the past, what, five minutes? He doesn't know how long they'd been driving home for. It could have been an hour already for all he knew, but the sun was still beating down so it couldn't have been.
Darry bit on the inside of his cheek and pulled into the driveway once they reached their house. Pony peaked his eyes open again and didn't see anyone else home, probably besides Soda since he had the day off. That doesn't mean the others couldn't have been there though, and he silently hoped they weren't. If he was gonna be sick, he'd rather just have his brothers around to see it.
"Alright, we're home," Darry announced, trying to keep his voice low.
Ponyboy nodded and sat back up slowly, grateful when he saw Darry grab his bag next. He opened the door sluggishly, trying his best to not agitate any of his symptoms, but it was inevitable. The sun had hardly let up and even though he didn't have the added weight of his bag, he didn't really feel any lighter. He slowly planted his feet onto the ground and basically slid off the seat, needing to hold out a hand behind him to lean onto the truck. Darry came around the other side, Pony's bag hung over one shoulder and his work bag on the other, looking at him concerned and waiting for him to get his grounding and start to walk into the house.
Pony pushed the truck door shut behind him with more force than he realized he had, and immediately he felt the effect of the force on his own body. His arms fell like jello to his side and his knees nearly buckled, and Darry shot forward, ready to catch him if he passed out. He didn't, but all the excitement worsened the nausea in his stomach by ten fold.
"Hey," Darry said, and Pony felt him place an arm on his bicep. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to throw up on Darry's shoes, who had moved to stand in front of him to block Pony from the sun. "Let's just go inside, okay? Get out of the heat-" Darry started again, his voice soft, before he stopped short upon seeing Ponyboy shake his head.
"I'm gonna throw up," Pony muttered, trying to take deep breaths. He wanted so badly to go inside; it didn't have air conditioning like any of the new houses on the other side of town, but they had some ice and a fan, and that's all they needed (or so Darry says). Either way, it was a hell of a lot better than staying out here, even with Darry's body shielding him from most of the sun. But Pony knew that taking just one step would have him hurling all over the grass.
Turns out that's not all it took. Darry said something else, but Ponyboy wasn't paying much attention to what he was saying. Everything was swirling and he had never felt so hot, even though he was being shaded. Darry must've insisted that they go into the house, and he moved his hand to wrap his arm around Pony's shoulders and guide him inside. When Darry moved, the sun immediately beat down straight onto Pony, and his stomach churned like never before and he was throwing up his lunch before he even knew what happened.
Darry flinched back a step, grimacing at the sight and sound because he was never able to stomach throw up that well (no pun intended), but made sure not to lose his grip on Pony's arm because he knew that if he'd let go, the chances his brother would keel over were definitely probable. He rubbed Ponyboy's back as he shakily spit the last of it out onto the grass below.
"Ready to go inside?" Darry asked after another moment, his hand still firm on Pony's back. Ponyboy nodded, his face twisted up in pain as he scrunched his eyes shut, the nausea settled down the tiniest bit, but everything else only got worse. His head pounded terribly, and he hoped he wasn't getting another migraine. The last one had made him feel nauseous and miserable enough, and he doesn't need that stacked on top of whatever the hell he has now.
After another second, and started to stand straight back up from where he was knelt over onto the grass, and Darry wrapped his arm around his shoulders again. Pony felt bad for him; not only did he need to deal with a sickly kid brother now, but this whole time he's been carrying both their bags which were pretty heavy, and he probably just wanted a nice, relaxing afternoon at home, but instead he has to deal with this nonsense. Now, he'll needa' hose off the grass, too.
He tried not to get too upset about it as Darry helped him walk up the porch steps. He remembers something Darry said the last time Pony had been sick, and that he shouldn't feel bad, but it was kind of hard not to.
Darry opened the door and led Ponyboy in, a hand on the small of his back. The living room was empty, but the radio was playing in the kitchen and he could hear their old, rickety fan in the background.
"Soda, that you?" Darry called out, and Pony winced the the sudden loudness. Darry whispered a quick apology and guided him to the couch, helping to ease him down. Soda let out a 'yeah' from the kitchen, and Ponyboy hoped it was just him- being sick in front of Johnny and Two-Bit were doable, but he'd rather let whatever he was sick with kill him before Steve or Dally had to deal with him.
"Get some water," Darry ordered, and although he kept his voice down this time, Pony whimpered at the volume that stabbed at his head. He apologized again, and pushed Pony's sweaty hair back off his forehead.
Soda popped his head into the room just then. "What?" He asked, apparently having not heard Darry.
He was being that quiet, and it hurt Pony's head that bad? Damn.
"What happened?" Sodapop asked upon seeing Ponyboy laid on the couch, and he immediately walked over to the couch in long strides.
"I think it's heat exhaustion. It's too damn hot for those kids to be running, I knew I shouldn't have let him go," Darry said, running and hand through his own hair as he looked down on Pony. Ponyboy just laid his arm across his eyes- he didn't like everyone suddenly fussing over him and he just wanted to sleep whatever this was off. If only he could ignore the agitating quickness of his pulse in his head.
"But his skin feels so cold?" Soda questioned as he placed his hand against the back of his forehead and cheek. Ponyboy flinched at first, but he quickly lent into the Soda's hand on his cheek; it was nice and cool in comparison to his own hot body temperature. How could his own skin feel cold if he was actually hot?
"Yeah, but that's what happens. See the heat rash? Plus, he threw up on the grass just now." Darry said, voice sounding utterly exhausted. Pony heard Soda hum in acknowledgement.
"Well, maybe it'll be healthy for the grass! There has to be some good nutrients in there for it, right?" Soda offered, always the glass half-full guy. Ponyboy huffed a laugh, and the nerd in him wanted to tell him that, no, it was not indeed good for the grass, and that they would probably have a random patch of dead, brown grass on their lawn within a day, but he didn't have the energy.
Pony heard Darry chuckle. "Well, I'm not so sure about that, buddy. Go get some cold water, will you? Fast," He said, and Pony heard him scurry off into the kitchen.
Pony peeled his arm away from his eyes and squinted up at Darry, who was still standing above him on the couch.
"I'm tired, Dar'," He mumbled, practically feeling his eyes drooping shut. The only thing keeping him awake was the fact that he was about to get his much needed water, and the hand that patted his cheek every three seconds.
"You can go to sleep in a few minutes, kid." Darry said with a sigh. He sounded so tired, and Pony couldn't help the next thing that came from his mouth.
"I'm sorry." He confessed, his voice shy. He knew Darry told him to stop with that, but he can't help it when he sounds so helpless and exhausted of all this-
"What'd I tell you about apologizing? Sure, I'd like it if you'd take care of yourself more often, but this isn't somethin' to be sorry for kiddo," Darry said, with a hint of finality in his voice and he stroked Pony's hair back again.
Ponyboy nodded, shutting his eyes again, before Soda came back into the room, and glass filled to the brim with ice water. He opened his eyes and was reaching for it before Soda was within six feet of him. Pony grabbed it as soon as he was close enough and began chugging it, the coldness soothing his throat and quenching his undeniable thirst. He heard Soda make some sort of smart joke, but he didn't have half the mind to pay attention. He finished the glass in record time, and handed it back to Soda who was ready to collect it.
"More?" Sodapop asked, ready to run back and get another glass-full, but Ponyboy shook his head, officially focused on the exhaustion that was taking over. He nodded, getting ready to sit back down and plant himself at Pony's side for the evening, but Darry stopped him.
"Get some ice and a washcloth, will you? And the fan," Darry asked, and Soda nodded, heading back to the kitchen to collect the things he was asked for. Darry turned his attention back to Pony, who was struggling to stay awake, and gave him an empathetic smile; having heat exhaustion certainly wasn't a fun experience. He ran a hand through Pony's hair again and spoke as softly as he could.
"You can go to sleep now, little buddy."
And so he did.