Work Text:
Darry had not slept in a week.
His clothes were rumpled, his hair was in disarray, and he carried himself like a man preparing for his execution.
He and Sodapop had not spoken more than a few words to each other, not because Sodapop was angry, but because the grief and worry in their house was so thick that neither of them was able to speak without getting choked up.
Sodapop had started sleeping in Darry’s room, and he curled into his big brother’s side like he had when he was a toddler. Every night, Darry’s shirt would be soaked with silent tears as Sodapop cried himself to sleep, and every night, Darry stayed awake, staring at the telephone, as though he could will the universe to have it ring with the news that his baby was coming home.
His baby.
Ponyboy.
Darry threw up at least once a day since that night.
He had washed his hands for nearly an hour after Ponyboy had run off and disappeared, wanting to scrub the sting of the hit off his skin. Sodapop had pulled him away as his fingers started to prune.
The house felt like it had the week following Darrel Sr. and Grace’s deaths, and Darry hated every second of it.
Near the end of the week, Dally showed up. Darry had not spoken to him since that first night, when Dally had simply told him the boys were safe, and that he would give him no more information.
Sodapop had been sitting on the floor, staring at Sandy’s returned letter, and Darry went to stand by the telephone, where he had been positioned every single day.
Dally took one look at them, and a bittersweet expression went over his face. “I’m going to see the kids.”
Sodapop’s face perked up just slightly.
“Do you want to write a letter, Soda?” Darry asked quietly, his voice hoarse from disuse. Sodapop nodded minutely, and gathered his letters together. He held them close to his chest as he left the living room, most likely going to sit in his and Ponyboy’s room, and use the desk to write.
Dally shifted on his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve got time before I leave.” He took a breath, and his voice took on a pitying tone. “Darrel…”
Darry shut his eyes, shaking his head as he sat down on the couch heavily. “Don’t, Dally.”
“You look terrible.” Dally said, sitting down beside him, and reaching out, resting a careful hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Have you slept at all?”
“What do you think?” Darry asked, unamused.
Dally lifted his other hand dramatically, pressing it against Darry’s forehead. He batted the hand away, annoyance on his face. “You’re not sick.” Dally chuckled quietly, and pressed his shoulder into Darry’s “I… I wanted to ask if you wanted to come with me.” His voice softened. “To see the boys.”
Darry stared at him, raising an eyebrow. His chest felt like it was about to explode, and his heart was pounding.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Dal.”
Dally huffed. “Come on, Darry. He needs you, even if the two of you are too stupid to admit it.”
“I hit him, Dally.” Darry said in a deadpanned voice, resting his forearms on his knees and staring at his feet.
Dally went quiet, and for a few minutes, all they could hear was the sound of Sodapop’s quiet writing from his bedroom, and the sniffles they both refused to acknowledge coming from the boy.
“When we were kids, do you remember when I punched you?” Dally asked suddenly.
Darry could not stop the small grin appearing on his face. “You knocked my tooth out.”
Dally nodded. “Did I do it because I was angry?”
“You told me it was because your pops had been laid off, and you hated going home every night.” Darry remembered. It had been their first fight as friends, and Darry had remembered the feeling of sitting on the ground, holding his bleeding mouth, staring up at Dally, who had been huffing with anger and standing above him with clenched fists. His eyes, however, had been teary and full of fear as Darrel Sr. came running over towards them. He had flinched away, and run off towards his house. “You were worried, and stressed, and everything had been piling on and you just snapped.”
“Exactly.” Dally said. “I cried for an entire day, and then you started inviting me for sleepovers.”
More like he had demanded. There had been no invitation, just Darry marching over to Dally on the playground, grabbing his hand, and telling him that he was going to live with the Curtis family from then on.
Darry sagged back against the couch, resting his head on the cushion. “Dally, what kind of caretaker am I if I hit my kid brother every time I feel too much?”
Dally shoved him. “But you don’t hit him every time.” He stood, and crouched in front of Darry, reaching out to hold his shoulders tightly. “It’s been eight months, Dar. You haven’t let yourself grieve, you haven’t let yourself process anything that’s happened.”
Screw Dallas Winston, and screw the day Darry had thought to befriend him on the playground. His best friend knew him far too well, and could read his very soul.
Darry reached up, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.
“I thought we lost him, Dally. He didn’t come home, and there was no word, and I thought he was gone.” His voice shook, and he tried as hard as he could not to cry. “And now I’ve really lost him.”
“You haven’t, Darry.” Dally said firmly, and who was Darry to argue with him? “Come with me. Please.”
Darry sighed, removing his hands, and looking at Dally. The other greaser had tears in his own eyes, a rare moment of vulnerability. Darry thought of Ponyboy and Johnny, wherever they were hiding, and knew that he would not be able to simply sit and wonder if the babies of the gang were safe and warm. He nodded minutely, and Dally grinned an even rarer, happy grin.
“I finished.” Sodapop said, walking back into the living room. He looked at the sight before him, of his big brother with red eyes, and Dally quickly swiping his jacket sleeve over his own eyes. “You two okay?”
“I’m going with Dally to see Pony and Johnny, Soda.” Darry said, moving towards the front door to push his feet into his shoes.
Sodapop’s face broke into the first smile that he had seen in a week, and he handed his letter to Dally. “Good.”
Darry grabbed his jacket, shrugging it on. He could not help his flicker of worry for his brother. “You’ll be okay for the day?”
“Yeah, I’ll go over to Two-Bit’s and say hi to Ma Mathews.” Sodapop said easily, waving his hand. He darted to his brother, hugging him tightly. “Bring him home?”
“Of course.” Darry replied easily, and Sodapop clasped Dally’s shoulder before standing in the doorway, watching the two leave.
Dally hopped into the driver’s seat of the borrowed car, grin on his face as he started it up. “Let’s hit the road, buddy boy.”
They drove, and Darry immediately realized the direction they were going in. He turned to look at Dally with an incredulous look on his face. “Windrixville? They’ve been in Windrixville this entire time?”
Dally cackled. “That old church that we used to visit with your pa.”
“Damn.”
“I wanted them far enough away to be able to hide, but also close enough that I could go and snag them and bite the dust in case of anything.” Dally explained. Darry went quiet, looking out at the buildings that were slowly becoming more and more interspersed with the trees.
“You always know how to put together a hell of a plan, Dallas Winston.” He finally said.
Over the course of the drive, Darry couldn’t help but feel just a little bit grateful for the time he was getting to spend with Dally. The two had barely spoken in the months since the death of the Curtis parents, and while there had been some interaction, a one-on-one conversation had not exactly been Darry’s priority.
Getting to just sit and talk to his best friend was a blessing in disguise. Darry had forgotten how much Dally knew about him, how much he knew about Dally, and it was like no time had passed at all.
He saw more and more of the old Dally returning, the playful glint in his eye as they joked and teased one another, the earnestness in his voice when talking about Ponyboy and Johnny.
When they reached the old church, Darry had to take a breath before stepping out of the car.
“You ready, Dar?” Dally asked, leaning on the hood.
Darry waited one more moment before opening the door. “Let’s go.”
They walked around the church, moving towards the back door. Dally let out the gang’s whistle, the sign they used at the end of rumbles to signal that everything was safe, and the two waited for a beat. A moment later, a familiar dark-haired head poked out of the back door of the church, and Johnny’s face lit up at the sight of the two of them. “Dally!” He seemed to fully process who else was in front of him, and his eyes widened even further. “Darry?”
Dally let out a bark of laughter, taking in Johnny’s short hair. “Glory, look at that hair, Johnnycake!”
“Pony cut it.” Johnny said, cheeks darkening as he looked down.
Darry stepped forward, putting his hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “Not half bad, kid.” Johnny beamed at him. “How have you two been?”
The smile dimmed slightly, and Johnny looked at Dally. “We’ve been managing.” Dally glanced over his shoulder. “Pony’s still asleep.”
“Dally…” Darry trailed off, looking at his friend, who tousled Johnny’s hair as he began walking into the church.
“I’ll wake him up and send him out here.”
For a few minutes, Darry and Johnny stood in silence, and they looked out at the mid-morning sun, which was bathing the entire countryside in shades of soft gold.
Finally, Johnny spoke, sounding far too timid. “I’m sorry, Darry.”
Darry looked at him, raising a confused eyebrow. “For what, Johnnycake?”
“For dragging Pony into all of this. For scaring you.”
“Johnny, listen to me.” Darry said, turning so that he could hold Johnny gently by the shoulders. The younger boy looked up, and Darry’s heart ached at the sudden reminder that, eight months ago, the boy in front of him was supposed to have officially become his brother. “You are Ponyboy’s best friend. Honest, if you hadn’t dragged him along, he probably would’ve followed you on foot and gotten here a week late.”
Hell, the entire gang would have followed behind Johnny if that had happened.
“They were gonna kill him, Darry.” Johnny whispered. His hands were clenched into fists, knuckles turning white, and Darry pulled him into a tight hug. “They were drowning him, shoving his head into the fountain. They were laughing, and he stopped moving, and I couldn’t help it, Darry. I couldn’t let him die.”
Johnny’s voice trembled, and Darry tightened his hug. “Johnny…” He tried to keep his own voice from breaking. “Thank you for saving him, kid. You kept my baby safe.” The two stepped apart, and Johnny sniffled as Darry mimicked Dally’s motion from earlier, tousling his shorter hair with a fond smile. “Now, we’ve just got to work on keeping you safe, too.”
Johnny let out a watery laugh, and Darry felt like that in it of itself was a small victory.
“Johnnycake, come help me back here!” Dally’s voice called from within the church, and the two turned towards the sound. Darry caught sight of a flash of blond hair, and his stomach twisted into knots.
Johnny’s hand touched his arm, squeezing slightly. “He’s missed you something awful. He won’t say it, but I can tell.”
Darry mustered up a weak smile, and Johnny made his way back into the church. Darry’s eyes stayed frozen on the doorway until his baby’s face came into view, poking around the door slowly, like he had when he was so much smaller, on Christmas morning, preparing himself to check if his big brother was awake and ready to open presents.
“Darry?” Ponyboy’s voice was oh so very small, and Darry forced himself not to move, to shove his hands into his pockets, and not react suddenly.
“Ponyboy.”
Ponyboy stepped out of the church, skipping the stairs to hop onto the ground. Darry couldn’t help but smile, thinking about how he did the same exact thing on the porch steps at home. “You came… with Dally?”
Darry nodded, and he took a deep breath. “I… I just wanted to see you, Pony.” Pony wrapped his arms around himself, and Darry straightened. He had thought so much about what he wanted to say over the past week. He knew, in the months since losing their parents, that he had been consumed by the need to keep his family together, to the point that his communication was lacking profusely. He needed to get everything out in the open, or else they would be back to the same way they were before. “Listen, I know the two of us are different, maybe too different to ever really get along, but I love you, Ponyboy. You’re my baby brother, and I’m so, so sorry that I hit you.” Ponyboy looked down at his shoes, scuffing his toe into the dirt, but Darry could see the tears that welled in his eyes, and felt his own eyes burn as he spoke. “I don’t want to lose anyone else like we did Mom and Dad. You and Soda are everything to me, baby, and I just want to do everything I can to keep you safe.” Ponyboy inhaled sharply, and his head snapped up, but Darry kept talking. He was on a roll, and needed to say everything he could. “You don’t have to say anything right now, you don’t have to forgive me. I just wanted you to know that, because you-”
“Darry?” Ponyboy cut him off, his voice quiet but firm.
“Yeah, Pony?” Darry finally stopped, heart pounding in his chest.
“Shut up.”
That was all the warning Darry got before he found himself with an armful of baby brother, and horribly bleached hair blocking the majority of his vision. The force of Ponyboy’s hug knocked a gasp from Darry’s chest, but he did not hesitate before wrapping his arms around his baby brother and holding him as tightly as possible. Ponyboy clung to him, face buried in his shoulder, his body shaking.
Darry moved one hand to run through Ponyboy’s hair, combing out the small tangles that had appeared from the week he spent sleeping on the ground in a church. He cupped the back of Ponyboy’s neck, thumb rubbing the bottom of his scalp soothingly. “I’ve gotcha, baby.”
“I’m sorry I missed curfew and yelled at you.” Ponyboy murmured, voice slightly muffled by the fabric of Darry’s shirt, and he let out a breathless chuckle, squeezing tighter and kissing Ponyboy’s head.
“As long as you come home, Ponyboy, I’ll take it.”
Ponyboy let out a small, strangled sob, and his arms tightened even more, though Darry had thought that was impossible. He simply returned the tight grip, as though he could squeeze every last bit of doubt that Ponyboy had about his love for him out of his body.
Over the top of his head, Darry saw Dally and Johnny standing in the doorway of the church, Dally’s arm thrown around the latter’s shoulder, and both watching them with fond eyes.
The two brothers pulled apart, but Darry kept his own arm around Ponyboy. His baby brother looked towards Johnny, and the two seemed to have an entire conversation just with their eyes. It made Darry’s heart ache in the best possible way, seeing how the two youngest members of the gang interacted. He remembered how he and Dally had been the same way while they were growing up, able to read each other better than anybody else who knew them.
Finally, Johnny nodded, and he looked up at Dally with a determined look in his eyes. “I’m going back. I’m going to turn myself in.”
Dally closed his own eyes briefly, as though pained by Johnny’s decision, but he nodded, arm tightening around Johnny’s shoulders. “We’ve got your back, Johnnycake.”
“I know.” Johnny’s face split into a bright smile, something light and happy that Darry and Dally hadn’t seen in years.
Clearing out the church was easy. They threw everything the boys had brought into the paper bag Johnny had gotten from the store in town, and Darry raised an eyebrow at Ponyboy when he saw the cigarette boxes. Ponyboy simply grinned, unashamed, and Darry shook his head with an amused huff.
Once everything was collected, the boys all piled into the car. Dally drove them all home, and as soon as they stepped into the house, Johnny and Ponyboy were promptly smothered by the rest of the gang. Sodapop went silent while hugging Ponyboy as tightly as he possibly could, and Johnny looked entirely too surprised at the way Two-Bit and Steve sandwiched him in an embrace. Dally chuckled, and stood right beside Darry while he picked up the telephone to call the detective who had come by the first night, when Bob had been found at the playground.
The man had arrived within ten minutes, and a police officer followed him.
Johnny and Ponyboy sat on the couch between Darry and Dally, with the rest of the gang standing behind them protectively. In a quiet voice, Johnny described everything that had happened the night he killed Bob, with Ponyboy interjecting a few times when his best friend could not continue.
The detective had been surprisingly kind, writing down everything Johnny said while the officer stood behind him with a sneer on his face. Darry kept one hand on Ponyboy’s arm, and the other stretched across the boys’ shoulders to rest on Dally’s shoulder. He could tell his own best friend was moments away from jumping the cop, and they needed to stay calm.
When Johnny finished his story, eyes trained resolutely on his hands, the detective had sighed, put his notebook away, and stood. Darry stood as well, gently nudging Ponyboy to stay seated beside Johnny.
The trial would likely happen soon, the detective had said. They had been preparing things, and it would most likely occur within the following few days. Johnny would be allowed to stay with the Curtis brothers until the trial, but if he ran off again, it would not go as smoothly.
The tension that hung over the gang faded slightly, and the living room of the Curtis house became a big bedroom for their sleepover, with Ponyboy and Johnny right in the middle of a pile of over-protective, anxious greasers.
When the trial did come around, the entire gang sat in the courtroom. Darry, Dally, and Sodapop sat in the front row, while Steve, Ace, Two-Bit, Ma Matthews, and Penny sat in the row behind them. Ponyboy was one of the witnesses, as were Cherry and Marcia. Randy, whom Darry came to learn was Bob’s best friend, was also a witness. Johnny looked horribly small sitting beside the lawyer the court had provided, but he stayed strong as everyone recounted the events of the night.
Marcia told the court about Ponyboy and Johnny keeping them company at the movies, and the two of them, along with Two-Bit, walking them home before Bob and Randy showed up drunk and angry. She explained how Bob was looking to start a fight with the three boys just for being nice, and how Johnny had frozen up.
“Those boys were nothing but sweethearts when they were walking us to the car.” Marcia said firmly, a fire in her eyes. “They were polite, and more concerned about making sure we got home safe. Bob and Randy didn’t care where we were until they saw us with those three.”
Cherry told the court about the story Ponyboy had told her, of Johnny being jumped by the Socs weeks prior, and how a Soc with rings on his hand and a blue Mustang had given him the cut on his face that was now a scar. She explained that Bob had told her, as he drove her home, that he would be teaching the “greaser trash” a lesson for messing around with his girl.
Her voice shook slightly as she spoke. “I’m heartbroken that Bob died, but Johnny didn’t deserve what he did to him. He was only protecting himself and Ponyboy from an unprovoked attack.” Cherry looked down at her hands. “We just talked that night, and Bob lost his mind.”
Ponyboy told the court about how he had hung out with Johnny at the park, because Johnny’s parents had been fighting, and he had not wanted to go home. He told them, in a shaking voice, how the Socs had driven into the park, and how he and Johnny had tried to play it cool and not engage. He insisted, firmly, ardently, that he and Johnny hadn’t been looking for a fight, and that Bob had gotten angry when Ponyboy stood up for himself, and that was when he grabbed him.
“I was trying to keep their attention off of Johnny.” he said. Ponyboy’s eyes kept flicking to where Darry was sitting, and he made sure his eyes stayed on his baby brother. “I kept thinking that it would be better for me to get hurt than for Johnny to have to go through all that again.”
Darry’s heart shattered listening to Ponyboy tell the story of what happened, and Sodapop had a death grip on his hand. Dally held onto Darry’s other arm, the two never taking their eyes off their baby brothers as they spoke.
When it was Johnny’s turn, Darry felt as though all the bones in both his hands were about to break from how Dally and Sodapop were each holding onto his hands. In all fairness, he was clinging back onto them just as tightly.
Johnny’s voice was quiet as he spoke, but steady. Darry felt himself swell with pride as he watched Johnny face down one of his biggest fears. He first told the court about the incident four months prior, when Bob and his friends had jumped him for the first time, how it made him even more jumpy and terrified than he usually was. He then spoke about being held back as Bob and his friends pushed Ponyboy’s head beneath the water of the fountain, how he had screamed and begged them to let him go. Johnny’s eyes welled with tears as he described Ponyboy’s flailing legs slowly stopping, and his body sagging into the fountain. He told the court about feeling nothing but the desperate need to protect his best friend, his brother, and how he had gotten free of the two Socs holding him back, and had lunged forward and stabbed Bob to free Ponyboy.
“The whole gang’s my family,” Johnny had said, his voice steady and strong for the first time since testifying. His eyes were wet with tears, but he looked directly at where Ponyboy was sitting in front of everyone. “Pone… he’s my brother, and he knows me better than anybody else, and I don’t like fighting and hurtin’ people, but when it comes to my brothers, I’ll keep them safe.”
Sodapop sniffled beside Darry, and Ponyboy furiously wiped his own eyes. Darry gave Johnny the proudest look he could muster, wanting nothing more than to leap over the guardrail to pull both of the younger boys into his arms.
The final witness was Randy, who had circles beneath his eyes and looked as pale as a ghost as he spoke, confirming Johnny and Ponyboy’s accounts of all of them going to jump the two without any real cause, and Johnny only stabbing Bob because they would not allow Ponyboy up out of the water.
Randy’s voice was hollow, emotionless. “Marcia and I broke up after I dropped her off at her house the night of the drive-in. I went after Ponyboy and Johnny because Bob wanted to. I didn’t even care, they didn’t deserve us attacking them.” He resolutely did not look at anyone in the room. “They had every right to defend themselves.”
Darry was unsure how to feel about the Soc. On one hand, he had participated in the attack that led his baby and Johnny to run away from home for a week. On the other hand, he was helping them keep Johnny from going to jail, and admitting his part in the attack. He felt a brief flash of gratefulness, but that was about it.
He did not mind Cherry or Marcia. He had spoken to Cherry a bit as the week had passed, and he was fond of the girl. She had told him through tears how awful she felt that Johnny and Ponyboy had to experience what they did, and that she wanted to make it up to them. Marcia had meshed with the gang fantastically, and Darry would not be surprised if she and Two-Bit announced that they were dating within the month.
He had even met Cherry’s parents, and they were some of the kindest adults he had ever met. They did not throw accusations like the other Socs did, simply greeted Darry and his brothers warmly, and offered to help in any way that they could.
It had been a while since Darry felt as though he had adults to rely on. It was a strange, wonderful feeling.
The judge, a no-nonsense woman who watched Johnny and Ponyboy tell their stories with no amount of disgust or prejudice on her face, sent the jury off for their deliberation time. It was now only a waiting game, and every occupant of the room was on the edge of their seats.
When the jury returned, it was as though the entire gang had stopped breathing. Darry was positive he would have bruises on his shoulders from how tightly Two-Bit and Steve were holding on, and his hands were beginning to go numb from holding onto Dally and Sodapop.
He did not care, though.
He would be the pillar that his boys needed, the calm front they relied on.
The spokesman for the jury stood, and the world came to a halt.
Not guilty.
Johnny had acted in self-defense, and no arrests would be made.
Dally let out a strangled sound, and Two-Bit barked out a laugh, his forehead falling against his mother’s shoulder. Ma Mathews hugged her son, beaming, Penny bouncing up and down excitedly beside her.
The one condition made by the judge was that Johnny needed to be placed into a safe home environment.
The joy of Johnny’s freedom that the rest of the gang felt was suddenly dimmed, but not Darry’s. That was a possibility he had prepared for, that his parents had prepared for.
He had pulled out the papers the day before, digging into the closet to pull out the box that held some of his parents’ belongings. The papers had miraculously survived the crash, being only wrinkled and slightly stained. The signatures were clear, as was the date when they were meant to be filed.
Johnny’s lawyer reached into his briefcase, pulled out the papers, and handed them to the judge. The woman had looked through the papers briefly, and her stern eyes softened slightly at the corners as she looked to where Darry was sitting, eyes wide and hopeful. He nodded, hoping that the judge would understand.
The judge banged her gavel. “As his parents are unfit to provide proper care and a safe living environment for him, I have decided that Johnny Cade is to be placed immediately into the custody of Darrel Curtis Junior.” She looked at Darry with a stern look, though her eyes were twinkling. “I expect you and Johnny to be in my office on Monday morning to get all this adoption paperwork finalized, young man.”
Sodapop burst into tears, and Johnny’s head snapped around to stare at Darry with a sharp gasp. Darry mustered a smile even as tears filled his own eyes. “We’ll be there.”
Johnny would have collapsed to the ground had it not been for Ponyboy grabbing onto him, hauling him into the tightest hug Darry had ever seen his baby brother give. Johnny’s hands fisted into Ponyboy’s jacket, face buried in his shoulder, and the two simply clung to one another.
The second that the judge announced that the case was finished, and they were all free to go, Ponyboy and Johnny all but hurled themselves towards their brothers. Darry caught Ponyboy with ease, squeezing him as Sodapop threw his arms around both of them. Out of the corner of his eye, Darry saw Johnny lean into Dally, the older boy whispering something that no one could hear, but that made Johnny’s face brighten.
Johnny then looked at Darry shyly, and asked if he was sure about everything. Darry rolled his eyes, grabbed Johnny’s arm, and pulled him into the hug he already had his two other brothers in. Sodapop ruffled both of the younger boys’ hair fondly, and Ponyboy made a whining noise, hitting his hand away, but he made no move to escape the hug.
As the weeks following the trial passed, the adjustment was almost terrifyingly easy. All the legal papers were signed quietly, and the social worker who had first handled the Curtis brothers’ case after their parents’ death stopped by, a warm smile on her face as she congratulated Darry on the new family addition.
Johnny Cade became Johnny Curtis, and the name change alone seemed to take an entire weight off the boy’s shoulders. He carried himself with less tension, and his eyes became brighter, no longer dimmed with fear and trepidation. The gang celebrated in their own low-key way, everyone crammed into the living room with root beers and Coca-Cola, a lopsided cake that Johnny and Ponyboy had made together while staunchly attempting to keep Sodapop from helping with the frosting, and a round of teasing that ended with everyone laughing. For the first time in a long time, Johnny didn’t flinch when someone clapped him on the back or pulled him close. He and Ponyboy were glued to each other, and Darry would have found it concerning if he and Dally weren’t the same way.
With Johnny now living with them, Darry officially made the decision to rearrange the house, carefully packing their parents’ things away in boxes, and turning the master bedroom into a room for Ponyboy and Johnny to share. He returned to his old bedroom, and Sodapop took over the bedroom he and Ponyboy had once shared. The entire gang helped, painting and decorating it, and before long, the house had enough space for all four Curtis boys to share.
The couch regained its identity as a pull-out bed, and it was normal for the bed to be occupied by Dally nearly every single night. He became a constant presence in the house, and the Darry delighted in seeing his best friend returning to his life with less stress behind his eyes.
Things weren’t perfect.
There were still Socs trying to provoke the greasers. There were still people all over town who looked at Johnny like he was a murderer. There were still assumptions, and judgements, and people who saw the greasers as nothing but the dirt on their shoes.
Darry did not care as much as he once had, however. The thoughts of other people no longer concerned him.
He had his family. They were all healing in their own way, but they were together.
The house that had felt empty and sad for the past eight months was now alive with the feeling of family, every bedroom was once again occupied, and the dinner table was once again set with five places.
Their house was a home again.