Chapter Text
Rodger throughout the past few months had been around the gang more. Mostly because Dally dragged him along, in all honesty. He got along with most of them fine– more than fine. He’d consider most of them his friends. He’d have to get back to you about Two-Bit, though.
He was quiet, though. Most of the gang didn’t know even half of who he was. To them he was probably just ‘Dally’s buddy’, and he was fine with that. The Curtis family was special, though. They were kind, and always made him feel welcome.
He latched onto them and Dallas, but Johnny seemed to latch onto him, especially these last few months. He’d find himself walking and Johnny stalking close behind, claiming that he was just walking to the lot when the lot was on the complete opposite side of town.
So here he was again, sitting on Darry’s couch while Darry made dinner and the boys played cards in front of him. Dallas watched, leaning on the wall.
“I’m gonna go see if Darry needs help.”
Dallas rolled his eyes but didn’t argue further. Rodger got up and headed into the kitchen.
“Hey,” he said. Darry jumped and Rodger smirked a bit. “Scare you?”
“Nah, I just like jumpin’ for fun,” he said sarcastically. “You need somethin’?”
“Wanted to see if ya needed help.”
Darry looked down at the pasta. “Actually, if you could start on the sauce while this boils…”
“On it.” Rodger nodded.
For some reason, the gang loved when Rodger cooked. Katherine taught him when he was really young, so he had a knack for it, but he wasn’t that good. Rodger had a feeling that Darry just wanted him to cook the sauce because he thought it was better than his own. Rodger didn’t have a preference either way.
Johnny came into the kitchen and just watched him as if he was some cooking show. Rodger didn’t mind, and ignored the kid until he spoke up. “They’re draftin’ more people,” he mumbled, quiet enough so only Rodger could hear.
“I know.” Rodger said. He’d read the papers and seen the news… it wasn’t looking good. He tried not to mention it in front of the kids, though. He really needed to stop thinking of them as kids; Johnny was almost 18.
“You think they’ll take Dal?”
Rodger laughed. Actually laughed. “Johnny… no,” he said, catching his breath. “Dallas is gonna be fine.”
“How can you know?” Johnny asked, a little self continuous at Rodger laughing.
“Have you seen that kid's criminal record? They wouldn’t want him if he volunteered for community service. They’d probably be afraid he’d shoot his own side.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“We know that, they don’t.” Rodger shrugged. “The point is, don’t worry about Dally. He’s gonna be fine.”
“Shit, is Rodg cookin’?” Two-Bit yelled. Rodger rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. He’d been trying to tune out the jabs and comments out of that boy all night, and he wasn't sure how much more he could take.
He never shut up.
“He oughta be in culinary school,” the boy continued, loud enough that he knew Rodger would hear. “Maybe it’d do him better than whatever doctor shit he’s tryin’ to get.”
Rodger caught Johnny laughing slightly at his increasingly annoyed demeanor. “Oh, hush it, kid.” Rodger whispered, no bite in his tone.
“Sorry.” Johnny said, still giggling.
“You can say that, but I’m not saving your ass if you get yourself in trouble.” Rodger said to Two, projecting his voice.
“I don’t need no soc-y doctor anyhow,” Two said, cocky as anything. They’d been at each other's throats since they first met, though neither of them really ‘hated’ each other.
Rodger actually wasn’t entirely sure of Two-Bits' opinion on him. Likely nothing good considering all that seemed to come out of his mouth were insults. “You say that until you break your arm pulling some stupid stunt down at the lot,” Rodger scoffed.
“Alright, children.” Darry sighed. “Settle.”
Rodger stirred the pot with a wooden spoon and eyed it carefully. “Say, where’d you learn to cook so good, anyway?” Johnny asked.
“Sister.” He answered briefly.
Johnny nodded appreciatively. “You should tell her to come and visit sometime. She sounds real tuff.”
Rodger tried not to let Johnny see the pause that comment caused him and instead just kept stirring. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll…” He trailed off. “Say, uh, how’s school? You and Pony still together in all your classes?”
“Uh.” Johnny picked at his jean jacket. “Mostly, yeah. ‘Sept in English. He’s in a higher class for that.”
Rodger nodded. “Well, that’s good,” he said, before calling to Darry. “Sauce is done, do you want me to merge the noodles?”
“If you want, or I can get it.” Darry said, coming into the kitchen.
Rodger shook his head. “I got it, go sit down.”
“You sure?” Darry fixed him with a look.
“I’m a medical student, I have to be sure.” Rodger rolled his eyes. “Shoo.”
“Alright, alright.” Darry put his hands up and backed out of the kitchen while Rodger finished up the food, Johnny watching curiously.
The gang ate their food, and unfortunately for Rodger, didn't shut up about how good it was. It was nice at first but got old quickly.
“C’mon, guys, Darry’s cooking isn’t bad enough to make this seem like it deserves a Michelin star.”
“What’s that?” Soda asked.
“A high-class meal.” Pony answered before Rodger could. “Thanks for cookin’ by the way.”
Rodger shrugged. “‘S’ nothing.”
Dally ate in silence away from everyone, somewhere else in the house. It was weird being with the gang without Dally. For the longest time, half of them just considered Rodger Dally’s tagalong. It was odd to be a standalone as of late.
“Rodger?” Johnny spoke up. “You think Dally and you would mind me comin’ with y’all tonight?”
“I don’t think we’re going anywhere you can’t. You’re free to come with us.”
Darry glared at Ponyboy before he even opened his mouth. “No. You got that homework project.”
He deflated but didn’t argue.
“Rodger, you want some chocolate cake?” Soda asked innocently. Rodger scoffed as a response, washing his plate and putting it in the dish drainer. He heard Soda whisper to Steve; “What’d I say?”
“Johnny, if you’re gonna be coming with us, get ready.” Rodger said, getting his jacket on. Johnny got his coat that Rodger bought for him a few months back. “Dal.” He said, passing him.
Dallas walked out with the two of them wordlessly, lighting a cigarette the second he stepped out of the house.
“You just couldn’t wait until we stepped off the porch?” Rodger rolled his eyes fondly. “You’re gonna get lung cancer.”
“Eh, prolly die ‘fore I gotta worry ‘bout that.”
Rodger was used to those morbid comments but it didn’t make it any less jarring when he joked about it.
“C’mon, don’t say that, Dal,” Johnny muttered.
The three walked in silence for a good five minutes. “Where are we going, anyway?” Rodger finally asked.
“Wanna see if Buck won’t let us use one of his rooms.” Dallas explained. “He’s got a bigger one with two beds at the enda’ the hallway. Figure if it ain’t taken, we can camp there for the night. Nothin’ goin’ on tonight, should be free.”
“Buck’s? Really?” Rodger sighed. He’d been there countless times bunking with Dallas but he didn’t really like the idea of Johnny being around that kind of crowd.
“You got a better idea?” Dally scoffed.
“My apartment?” Rodger said incredulously.
“Yeah, fuck your apartment.” Dally said quickly.
“You just want to drink.” Rodger sighed.
“Nah, don’t want to spend the night surrounded by textbooks.”
“Hey, shouldn’t you be studying?" Johnny asked.
“I should… but this is better.” He shrugged. Johnny gave him a half smile.
The three of them were able to bucks and since Dallas was with them, didn’t mind them taking the large room. As promised, Rodger and Johnny got the beds while Dally slept on the floor, because according to him, it wasn’t any worse than what he had to deal with in New York.
Rodger woke up and had to remind himself where he was, before seeing Dallas and Johnny asleep left to him in the room. He sighed silently, lifting himself out of bed and looked at the clock. He needed to get to class, so he lugged himself out of bed and made haste to his apartment, showering and getting dressed before heading out to the college.
The class was boring as all get out. He already knew most of what the professor was talking about and he was basically listening to information he already read about be regurgitated to him. It was cool to get it out of a real person, though.
After the lecture, it was only eleven and he knew for a fact that Dally and Johnny weren’t up, and he had about three hours to kill until his next class. He could probably go hang out with Pony for a little until then.
The walk was nice. The weather wasn’t too bad and he didn’t have to get out his umbrella or anything. Cars passed him as well as people on the street. It was one of those days where he was reminded how large Tulsa’s population really was. Sometimes he was locked in his apartment so long he’d forget.
He got to the Curtis house and walked up the porch steps, letting himself in. The second he stepped his foot through the door, the heavy mood in the house practically knocked him back to the porch. The brothers plus Steve were in the living room. Pony was crying, latched onto Soda like a barnacle while Soda held his brother and himself together. Darry was in the recliner with his head in his hands, not crying, just sitting there. Steve sat next to Soda, looking grim as well.
“What happened?” Rodger asked carefully, taking his cardigan off and wrapping it around his waist. The anxiety and fear made him sweat, and he certainly didn’t need the cardigan anymore.
Soda held out two letters. Rodger took them gingerly and read them, his face paling.
To Sodapop Patrick Curtis
731 N. St. Louis Ave
Tulsa, Oklahoma 74106
Greeting:
You are hereby ordered for induction into the Armed Forces of the United States, and to report…
He read Steve’s. Same thing except the address and name.
Rodger opened his mouth but nothing came out. He didn’t know what he could even say. I mean, this was life changing for all of them. Part of him felt as though he was intruding.
“Is there anything I can do?” Rodger asked in a whisper.
Darry was the one to speak, raising his head from his hands. Rodger could see the anxiety plainly written across his face.
“I don’t want to inconvenience you, Rodger.” He said. His voice sounded tired and broken. He’d only hurt that a few times out of his friend.
“I’m not asking if you need help, I’m offering it.” Rodger rephrased. “I could come by and pick up the slack when…” Rodger hesitated, not saying what they were all thinking. “I could chip in with bills and housework, it’s not a big deal.”
Pony sniffled, still holding onto Soda. “That would be nice, I guess.”
Rodger nodded.
Soda was barely holding on by a thread and Rodger could tell. He was pretty sure the only reason he wasn’t sobbing was because of Ponyboy. He made a mental note to check in on him later. Rodger ran a hand through his hair and tried to process everything that was just thrown at him in the span of five minutes. If it was overwhelming to him, he didn’t even want to know how the two boys felt, let alone Darry and Pony.
“Have you guys eaten today?”
Everyone except Steve shook their heads. Rodger nodded, taking a breath. This was something he could fix.
“Okay, I don’t care whether you're hungry or not, you guys have to eat something,” he said, heading into the kitchen. He decided to just make eggs because they were easy for both him and everyone in the living room.
He had to stop himself from zoning out at least three times throughout the process. He hated when stuff like this happened. When he couldn’t make a situation better.
When he was useless and all he could do was watch miserably as everything played out.
“‘Least we get his cookin’,” Soda mumbled. His voice was grimmer than Rodger had ever heard out of the boy. The house was so quiet that Rodger could hear them talking from the kitchen, even at their low volume. “That’s one good thing, huh, Stevie?”
Steve sighed. “I guess.”
Rodger came out with four plates, all with two eggs each. “Sorry Darry, I finished out your eggs. It’s for a good cause.”
Darry tried to laugh but it came out more as just a huff. “‘Least we ain’t wasting them.”
Rodger nodded and made sure they all ate. “I should… let you guys process.” He sighed, taking the plates. “I’ll be home if you need me for anything, okay?”
Darry nodded solemnly. “Thanks, Rodger. We’ll, uh– we’ll be in touch.”
The next few days, Rodger spent his time in his apartment, trying to purposefully get away from the gang. Mostly because he wasn’t sure what to do around them. He couldn’t fix this, or change it, or anything. He felt useless.
But one night Dally dragged him to a rodeo, and for the first time in about a week, Rodger didn’t feel totally helpless. The lingering fear and dread stayed but it was on the back of his mind, even if only for a few hours.
That night he got home late after having to drive Dally to Buck’s after he got drunk off his ass. Rodger also took some time to check on the Curtis’s, specifically Soda.
He was doing… okay. Though, it seemed he was only holding it together for his brother. Rodger could tell he was one set of bad news from a breakdown.
And well… that one thing awaited him in his mailbox. He’d headed down to the apartment's mail room and froze when his eyes locked on an envelope similar to Steve’s and Soda’s.
He couldn’t bring himself to touch it, stumbling back and almost colliding with the wall.
No.
He wasn’t fighting in this war. He wasn’t. He could– he could go to Dally, he’d help him dodge it.
He could never do that; he'd get caught and ruin the rest of his life. But with this letter his life was already ruined.
His vision grew blurry as his breathing picked up. A piercing ringing in his ears only grew louder as he stared at the piece of paper. It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be real. He had to stay here. There were so many people counting on him… Soda and Steve were already going, now him? And what if Dallas got locked up while he was gone? Who the hell was gonna be there to keep him out of trouble?
Rodger opened the envelope shakily, scanning through it even as his vision refused to focus. The letter started the exact same way that Steve and Soda’s had, an induction notice summoning him to report to gather in a week’s time.
It also mentioned that he would be drafted as a medic.
Somehow, that was what hit him the hardest. He had wanted to be a doctor for as long as he could remember, he thought bitterly, and now he would be getting his wish regardless of how underqualified he was.
They certainly had to have been desperate in order to draft him.
Rodger didn’t remember when he got up to his room, but when he did, the letter was no longer in his hand. He didn’t care. How could he care? Nothing mattered anymore. His degree he’d been working so hard for didn’t matter, since they were sending him in anyway, despite the fact he hadn’t even graduated.
He wasn’t ready. Sure, he was top of his class and knew a lot of things before he was taught them, but…
He couldn’t do this.
He was going to have to anyway.
He couldn’t tell anyone. If Dally knew he’d force him to dodge it, and it’d just about break everyone else in the gang as well. They were already losing Soda and Steve.
Two probably wouldn’t care, though, he’d be fine.
God, why was he thinking about that of all things right now? Why was he so worked up in the first place? Compared to Soda and Steve working as a medic is a dream. He didn’t have to fight, he wasn’t in much danger…
He shouldn’t have anything to be complaining about.
So why was his heart still hammering out of his chest?