Chapter Text
Ponyboy Curtis has been having nightmares for weeks. Not unusual, no, of course not, he’s always had nightmares. But these were different. Relentless. Ever since their parents died a month or so ago, things had been different. Obviously they had. Darry went from being an older brother to a guardian in a matter of days. Sometimes, Ponyboy thinks, that it’s his fault. And he feels bad about it, really, he does. But if he told Darry or Sodapop that, he knows for sure they’d give him a whole talk about how it wasn’t. But it was. And he knew it. And he was sure they did, too, no matter how much they’d deny it.
Adjusting to the tonality switch in his brother took a while. If he’s honest, Ponyboy’s still getting used to it. They argue a lot more than they did before, now. Sometimes he gets the feeling that maybe Darry just doesn’t want him there, but it’s fine. He can deal with it. He has the rest of the gang, even if he sometimes feels unwanted there, too.
All in all, life’s been harder. Not a shocker there. But life had never been easy in the first place.
Ponyboy was ripped from his thoughts when Soda barged into their shared room with an evil grin plastered on his face. The only thought Ponyboy managed was a brief oh, no before Soda was grabbing him and tickling his sides.
If he wasn’t awake before, he certainly was now.
Against his will, Ponyboy was laughing. Soda’s eyes lit up at his little brother’s laughter and he began laughing too.
”Soda! Cut it out!” Pony managed between laughs.
”Not a chance.”
Ponyboy was still trying to push Soda off when a knock sounded at the door. For a moment, they both froze. Nobody ever knocked on their door. The last time someone had, the Curtis family’s world was completely shattered. And besides, the door was always unlocked.
Soda swallowed hard, standing up straight, looking like he was already bracing himself for bad news, but trying to play it off with a weary smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll get it.”
Pony sat up, biting his nails, as Soda rushed out of the room. He dragged himself out of bed and got dressed since he wasn’t sure he’d be able to if something had happened, and he didn’t really want to lay in bed all day.
There was a muffled conversation coming from the other room, and Pony tried hard not to worry about it. Soda stuck his head through the door, looking more confused than worried. He turned his head back out the doorway, then back again, looking more confused by the second.
”Pony, you wouldn’t happen to have a secret twin we somehow don’t know about, would you?” Sosa asked cautiously, still glancing between the front room and Ponyboy.
”What? Soda, how would that even work?”
Sodapop shrugged, turning away. “Just making sure.”
Ponyboy followed him out of their room and felt like he was looking in a mirror. Standing in the kitchen was… himself.
Blonde, obviously older, a split lip and blood running down his head, burn scars littered up his right arm, but it was undoubtedly him. He would know. He stares at himself every morning in the mirror when he greases his hair.
They stare at each other for a solid minute, not saying a word. The silence was broken when the front door swung open. The other-him whipped his head towards the door as the sound of Dallas’s voice rung through the house. He and Two-Bit were talking (arguing) about something.
”Don’t slam the door!” Soda called from the bedroom, where Pony assumed he was getting ready.
Two-Bit took one look at the scene in front of him and stopped, rubbing his eyes. “Am I seeing double or are there two Ponyboys in front of me?”
Dallas stopped whatever he was saying (Ponyboy wasn’t really paying attention), blinked a few times, and stared. “What the hell?”
The other-him was still staring at Dally like he was surprised he was standing there.
Steve stopped the door from closing all the way with his foot, kicking it open, strutting in like he owned the place. He paused, looked at the scene in front of him, stared for a moment, and plopped down on the couch. It was Saturday, and Ponyboy briefly recalled Soda saying he and Steve had the day off. He couldn’t remember why, though.
Dally huffed out a breath of air and leaned against the wall. “Hey, Soda, care to explain why there’s two of your brother in the house?”
Ponyboy figured he shouldn’t be totally surprised that they’d all figured that the person across from him was himself. As close as they are, they could probably pick each other out in a big crowd. What he was surprised by was how fast they seemed to accept the fact that there were two Ponyboys.
Soda came out of the bedroom with a shrug. “I’ve no idea. He just appeared at the door.”
The other-him crossed his arms, finally dragging his eyes away from Dallas— he looked almost shocked— and cleared his throat. “I’m right here, y’know. You don’t have to talk like I’m not.”
Two-Bit finally regained his composure with his signature smirk. “So he speaks!”
That earned Two-Bit an eye roll. “What month is it?”
”April.”
Other-him (he really needs to find something else to call him) nods, seeming to understand. “1965, right?”
Dallas raised a brow curiously. “How’d you know?”
He didn’t say anything, just rubbed his arms and stared at the floor. Pony knew that look. He wore it all the time himself. Judging by the look on Soda’s face, he knew, too.
Soda nudged Other-him’s shoulder and dragged him towards the couch. “Come on bud, let’s get you patched up.”
By the time Darry got home from work, the whole gang was there, and the other-him was asleep against Soda’s shoulder. Pony was sitting on his other side, Johnny on his left. Soda was beaming like he’d just won a hundred bucks.
Ponyboy had an arm wrapped around Johnny, and he could tell the other was starting to nod off. He could hardly blame him, he’d just gotten jumped last week and— despite his insisting that he was fine— was still recovering.
Darry took one look at the scene in front of him, sighed, dragged a hand down his face, and asked the question everyone had on their minds. “What the hell is going on here?”
Dally, who had decided to sit on the floor in front of Johnny and Ponyboy, shrugged. “We’re just as confused as you are, man.”
Pony must’ve been nodding off too because whatever was said next slipped away. He shouldn’t have even been tired— they hadn’t done anything for most of the day— and yet, here he was. He supposed he didn’t get any sleep last night because of his nightmares, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary.
He jerked upright when a fierce pain erupted in his head, and then, just as quickly as it came, it left.
Green-gray eyes met his own and he knew that his other self had felt it too. With all the movies he’d watched, it shouldn’t come as a surprise. There shouldn’t be two of the same person in one universe, or timeline, or whatever, let alone the same room.
But that haunted look in those green eyes. He couldn’t shake it. They had to get him home, and yet, he wanted to know what had caused his other self to look so horrified.
He had the bright idea to ask, but knowing himself, he wouldn’t answer.
A voice— Steve— made him look up. “What the hell was that about?”
“What was what about?” Even as Ponyboy said it, he knew what Steve meant.
”You both jumped up at the same time. What was that?”
His other self shrugged, and he couldn’t help but feel the same. “I guess there’s not really supposed to be two of the same person in one time.”
”Glory, you need to stop watching so many movies.”
”Well those movies might have some viable information that’d help me get back, thank you very much.”
It was the most he’d said the whole time he appeared on the front doorstep, Ponyboy realized. There was something in his voice, a certain quality he couldn’t quite place. It was almost raspy, but not really. Just a little more ragged around the edges, maybe? If a voice could even be that. He couldn’t describe it if he tried. And he would love to try.
”Okay, let’s cut the shit.” Ponyboy had forgotten Dallas was there. “Are you gonna tell us why you’re beat up and your hair is blonde, or are we gonna haveta guess?”
His other self bit his lip and fidgeted with the hem of his sweatshirt. “I really don’t-“
”Lay off, Dally. He’ll tell us when he wants to.” Soda squeezed both of the Pony’s shoulders, and nobody missed the look he shared with Darry. It seemed to say a million things at once.
Other-him (seriously. There has to be something better to call him) swallowed thickly. “No, I… I should tell you guys. But it’s… Glory, it’s a lot. So much happened in just a few days, and it was months ago. I don’t know how much I’d-“ he cut himself off, eyes widening, as an idea seemed to strike him. He fumbled around his pockets for a moment, coming up empty, and seemed to deflate, eyes closing and sinking back against the couch. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
Dally spoke the question everyone had. “What were you looking for just now?”
”My theme.”
“Your what?”
”My theme. For English.” He repeated. “I had to write something about a personal experience to get my grade back up because— well the why doesn’t really matter— but anyway, I wrote everything that happened down, thought it might still be in my pocket. I was gonna get it published.”
Ponyboy risked a glance at Darry. He looked like he was going to throw up. “Jesus Christ, Colt, it was bad enough to publish a book?”
His other self shrugged and got that faraway look again. He shook himself out of it pretty quickly, but it still happened, and the damage had already been done. Everyone looked a few shades greener. Even Dally, who Pony was sure hardly cared about him, looked like he might hurl all over the floor right there.
Other-him let out a shaky sigh and covered his face with his hands. His voice came out small, almost a whisper. “I don’t know if I want to relive that again.”
Soda’s face hardened. “Then don’t. Not until you’re ready. We can wait. As long as you need.”
”Thanks, Soda. But I really should tell y’all. I wouldn’t want the same thing to happen here, or whatever.”
Ponyboy watched his other self very carefully. They locked eyes again, and this time Pony looked away first because— well, his eyes were cold. He’d never seen that look on himself before. (He wasn’t scared. No. Don’t listen to that. They’re lying. He wasn’t scared. Just… concerned. Yeah. He was just concerned about what was going to happen to him, that’s it.)
Darry sighed, making his way to the kitchen. “Well, might as well start on dinner.”
That eased up the tension, and Ponyboy felt himself finally drift into the comforting haze of sleep.