Chapter Text
Darry pulled Ponyboy into his bedroom before dinner that evening to talk.
“I heard about what happened last night,” he said as he sat on the bed, voice carefully level. “And I agree with Soda. You’re grounded.”
Pony sighed, resigned to his fate. He’d been expecting this all day. “For how long?”
“Two weeks.”
Darry went on to explain that he was allowed to go to school, track practice, church, and his part-time job at the bookstore, but that was it. No library, no movies, no TV, and no driving lessons with Steve.
All things considered, his punishment could’ve been worse. At least the guys could still come hang out and keep him from losing his marbles, although Pony suspected that had more to do with Darry’s inability to keep Steve and Two-Bit out of their house than any mercy on his part.
And as much as Ponyboy hated to admit it, he knew he deserved to be grounded. He’d broken a rule, after all, and it was only fair. No, it wasn’t being grounded that bothered him, not really — it was the fact that Sodapop had tattled on him.
“Go easy on Soda, okay?” Darry told him. “It’s been an adjustment for him, too.”
“Whatever,” Pony grumbled. He’d go easy on Soda when Soda went easy on him.
Really, who did Soda think he was, dishing out punishments like he was Pony’s dad? Soda had snuck in after curfew plenty of times over the years, and Ponyboy had covered for him every single one of them. Soda had no right to ground him, guardianship or not.
So, yeah, he was mad at Soda. But he also felt guilty every time he thought about how Soda had skipped out on dates to hang out with him or stayed late at work because Pony needed money for a new track uniform or let him have the last slice of chocolate cake.
He couldn’t help but wonder: Was Soda mad, too? Did he resent Pony for being a burden? Was that why he decided to punish him for breaking curfew instead of letting it slide like he used to? The more he thought about it, the more the idea ate at him, gnawing a hole through his stomach.
Darry had given up his whole life to raise his brothers. And while Ponyboy definitely felt bad about that, he’d come to realize that Darry had simply had no other choice. There was no world in which he abandoned them to the state and let their family get torn apart.
Soda, however… he hadn’t signed up for all this. He’d just seized an opportunity to dodge the draft, which just so happened to give them a backup plan in case Darry died. And based on what he’d said to Darry that morning, he was in way over his head and regretting it big-time.
—
Ponyboy didn’t see much of his brother for a couple days. Whether Sodapop was staying busy on purpose or not, Pony was thankful he didn’t have to face him. He was afraid of what he might say if given the opportunity.
His reprieve didn’t last long, though. Two days into his sentence, Soda appeared in his doorway while he was sitting at the desk doing homework.
“Hey, what’s goin’ on with you?” he asked, getting straight to the point.
“Nothing.” Pony refused to look at him, instead staring intently at his math textbook.
Soda continued like Pony hadn’t said anything. “I mean, I know you’re grounded and all, but you haven’t been yourself the past couple days.”
“You’re one to talk,” he muttered.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Pony scoffed. “Take a wild guess.”
“Honey, if there’s somethin’ bothering you —”
“Just drop it, okay?” Pony snapped, leveling him with a glare.
Soda slumped like all his strings had just been cut. “Okay,” he said quietly before leaving the room.
And that was it. They hardly spoke to each other at all after that. Their mama used to tell them, If you ain’t got anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. And since Ponyboy couldn’t think of anything nice to say to his brother, he decided to keep his head down and his trap shut.
—
With the exception of Windrixville, Ponyboy could count on one hand the number of nights he and Sodapop had spent apart since the nightmares first started. He’d gotten so used to Soda’s arm slung around his waist and his soft snores in his ear that he didn’t know how to sleep alone anymore.
It was stupid. He was far too old for this. Plus, he was still angry with Soda. He didn’t want to be anywhere near him, let alone share a bed with him.
But for some reason, that anger faded away at nighttime, leaving only a gaping emptiness behind. Soda might as well be in Vietnam for how far away he felt.
—
With all the extra time being grounded gave him, Ponyboy figured he might as well make himself less of an inconvenience by helping out around the house. He cleaned his room, collecting everything of Soda’s he found and leaving it in a neat pile outside his door. He reorganized the bookshelf in the living room alphabetically by author, just like he’d learned at the bookstore. He volunteered for dish duty every night, even when it wasn’t his turn.
One day after school, about halfway through his sentence, he rushed to finish his homework so he could clean the bathroom before his brothers got home. He wiped the mirror, scrubbed the bathtub and toilet, mopped the floor, and even wiped the grime off the baseboards.
At some point, Soda came home from work. He went straight to his room and shut the door, just like he did most days. That was fine by Pony — he didn’t want to see his stupid face anyway.
Once the bathroom was spotless, he trudged to the living room and collapsed on the couch, exhausted. His arms ached from all the scrubbing, and his skin smelled like cleaner. But he didn’t have more than a minute of peace before Darry arrived, barely pausing to take off his dirty work boots before heading to the kitchen to heat something up for dinner.
“Ponyboy, it’s your turn to take out the trash,” Darry called, sounding impatient.
Pony groaned, sinking further into the couch. Of course the second he stopped to catch his breath, Darry was on his case.
“I was just takin’ a break for five lousy minutes!” he whined. “Get off my back!”
Darry appeared in front of him, looking mighty annoyed. “It ain’t that hard. It’ll take you thirty seconds.”
“If it’s so easy, then why don’t you just do it, huh?” he argued.
“Because it ain’t my turn, and I’ve been slavin’ away on top of a roof all day, and I asked you to do it this mornin’, that’s why. Now get off that couch and take out the trash before I ground you for another week.”
His anger peaked, turning the edges of his vision black. He stood up, getting in Darry’s face. His next words bypassed his brain and exploded out of his mouth. “Y’know, Darrel, you can be a real son of a b —”
“Ponyboy Michael!” Darry snapped. “I know you don’t wanna finish that sentence. That ain’t how we talk to each other in this house.”
How dare he assume he knew what Pony wanted? He opened his mouth to yell something even nastier in response, but Darry cut him off. “Go to your room,” he ordered, pointing down the hallway.
With something between a groan and a scream, he pushed past Darry and stomped down the hall. But instead of heading toward his own room, he did what he always did when things got rough with Darry: He ran to Sodapop. Pony burst into his brother’s room, slamming the door behind him.
Soda was sitting on his bed, listening to the radio. He looked up when Ponyboy entered. “What was that all about?”
Pony looked at him with wide eyes. “I’ve been doin’ chores all afternoon, and the second I sit down to catch my breath, Darry comes home and yells at me to take out the trash. And I was gonna do it, I swear! I just needed a minute! But of course he don’t understand. He just orders me around like a little kid,” he seethed, spitting the words out through gritted teeth. “I mean, can you believe it?”
“Well… yeah, actually.” Soda’s face was impassive.
Pony crossed his arms. “Yeah, what?”
“Yeah, I can believe it. It wouldn’t’ve taken you that long to just do what he asked.”
He slumped in exasperation, shaking his head. He was so mad at Darry that he forgot he was angry with Sodapop, too. “I should’ve known you’d take his side,” he said bitterly. “You always do!”
“It ain’t about sides, Ponyboy.” His voice was firm. “Darry’s right. The trash needs to go out, and it’s your turn. It’s only fair,” he added, like the giant hypocrite he was.
“Fair?” Pony clenched his fists at his sides, ready for a fight. He could feel his fingernails biting into his palms. “You really wanna talk to me about what’s fair?!”
Soda remained infuriatingly calm. “Yeah, I do. And you shouldn’t’ve yelled at him, either. He don’t deserve it, and neither do I. Y’know, we both work hard to —”
All of a sudden, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I didn’t ask for you to be my guardian, Sodapop,” he snarled.
“I —”
“I want my brother back!” The words burst out of him like he was a shaken-up Pepsi bottle.
He barely caught a glimpse of Soda’s shocked expression before he turned and ran out of the room, vision blurring with angry tears. He tore down the hallway, ignoring Darry calling after him, before pushing open the back door. Once it had clattered shut behind him, he collapsed on the top step, chest heaving as he wept.
He couldn’t believe he’d thought Soda would be on his side. He should’ve known better. Soda and Darry were a team now, which left Ponyboy all alone. With a truly pitiful sob, he realized that in addition to being an orphan, he was an only child now, too.
He buried his face in his folded arms as he cried, feeling more small and helpless than he had in a long, long time.
It took a few minutes, but once he’d gotten his tears mostly under control, he pulled a pack of Winstons and a lighter from his pocket and lit one up with shaking fingers. He didn’t smoke nearly as much as he used to, but if any situation called for the soothing power of a cigarette, it was this one.
His breath hitched as he took the first drag, and the second. By the third, he had calmed down enough to think a bit more rationally about everything.
No, Darry didn’t deserve to be snapped at like that. He’d been working all day, too, and all he’d asked for was a simple favor. Just add it to the list of things Ponyboy was guilty about, along with ruining Soda’s life when all he’d wanted was to stay out of Vietnam. He really couldn’t help but screw everything up, huh?
The creak of the door opening startled him from his thoughts, almost causing him to drop his cigarette. He whipped around, ready to scare off whoever it was, but at the sight of Sodapop’s own tearstained face, all the fight left his body in a whoosh. He looked just about as miserable as Pony felt.
“Can I bum a cigarette?” Soda muttered, scuffing his toe on the ground.
Wordlessly, Pony lit one and handed it over, then figured he might as well light up another one for himself while he was at it.
Once Ponyboy had scooted over to make room, Soda took a seat next to him, careful not to let their knees brush. The two of them sat there in silence for a while, puffing smoke into the air, until Soda finally spoke up.
“Y’know, I didn’t ask to be your guardian, either.” His voice was rough. “It was Darry’s idea.”
Pony remained silent, flicking ash off the end of his weed and watching it fall to the ground.
“He told me that since Mom and Dad died,” Soda continued, “he’s been terrified of something happenin’ to him, too. Not ‘cause he was scared for himself, but that they wouldn’t let us stay together when he’s gone.”
“Me, too,” Pony quietly admitted, swiping at his eyes. “‘Specially after he broke his arm.”
“Same here. I’d do anything to keep us together.” Soda took a long drag from his cigarette, holding his breath for a second before exhaling. “But the whole thing was never supposed to be… like this.”
“Like what?”
“Y’know. Weird.” Soda gestured between them, sighing. “Before the hearing, Darry warned me you weren’t gonna like it if I started treatin’ you like my kid, or whatever. He said you needed a brother more than you needed two parents.”
Was that what Darry had been talking about that morning when Ponyboy overheard them?
“He was right,” Pony said.
“Yeah. I messed that one up, huh? Shoulda seen it comin’, too, what with the way you and Dar used to be at first, always buttin’ heads.”
“So then why did you? Start treating me like your kid, I mean.” He was genuinely curious.
“Well, it wasn’t really on purpose,” Soda said, wincing.
Ponyboy shot him a disbelieving look. “Soda. You don’t just accidentally ground someone.”
“It’s true! I didn’t mean to let it get like this.” When Pony still didn’t show any signs of believing him, he sighed before explaining, “After the hearing, everything started feelin’ more… important. Like I was responsible for keepin’ you on the straight and narrow, or whatever.”
“And making sure I’m not late for curfew,” Pony said dryly, grinding his cigarette butt under his shoe.
“Yeah.” Soda aimed a wry half-smile in his direction. “And… I dunno if you’ve noticed, but you’re growin’ up right before my eyes, kiddo. You ain’t so little anymore.”
Ponyboy could see how hard Soda was trying, so he decided to throw him a bone. “I’ve got six whole whiskers now.”
To Pony’s delight, Soda seemed truly excited for him. “Really, we’re up to six?”
“Uh-huh. Found a new one this morning.”
“You’re a regular Yosemite Sam, huh?”
“Well, not yet,” Pony said, secretly pleased. He ducked his head.
“It’s only a matter of time.” Soda cleared his throat, his smile fading. He ground out his own cigarette, too. “Anyway, I realized I’ve been havin’ a hard time lettin’ you grow up. I want you to still be a kid — my kid brother — but you don’t need to be my kid to do that.”
“Yeah.”
“So I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is that I’m sorry.” To his credit, he seemed sincere about it, his face open and earnest.
Ponyboy nodded in acknowledgement, then heaved a great sigh. He wished he hadn’t already finished his cigarette. “I’m sorry, too,” he said, picking at a hole in his jeans.
“What for?” Soda’s head tilted to one side.
“Yelling at you like that.”
“I mean, I kinda deserved it.” His tone was light, but Pony could sense there was something underneath.
“Well, maybe a little. But you did all this to dodge the draft, and then you got stuck with this… this burden of takin’ care of me,” he said, dejected. “You didn’t ask for all that. I’d regret it, too, if I were you.”
“Kid!” Soda exclaimed, alarmed. He turned his body fully to face Pony, eyes searching his face. “Is that really what you think?”
“I mean, yeah. All the stuff about stayin’ together if Darry died, that’s just a bonus.”
Soda put his hands on Ponyboy’s shoulders, giving Pony no choice but to meet his gaze. His expression was pleading, his brows knit together. “I did it ‘cause I love you and I want to take care of you! The draft thing was the bonus.”
Ponyboy was having a hard time believing that. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Soda gave him a little shake.
“You ain’t just sayin’ that to make me feel better?”
“Ponyboy. I was ready to sign the papers even before I knew it would keep me out of ‘Nam. Promise.” He moved his hands up to cup Pony’s cheeks, and his touch was as gentle as his voice when he added, “I never regretted it, not for a second.”
Well, that was a relief, at least. But he couldn’t stop hearing Soda’s voice echoing in his head. Mistake.
He abruptly scooted away, causing Soda to withdraw his hands. They hovered awkwardly in the air for a second before returning to his lap.
“But — but what about what you told Darry?” Pony asked. “That you thought this whole thing was a mistake?” He couldn’t keep the hint of bitterness from his voice.
Soda’s eyebrows crept up his forehead. “Didn’t Mom ever tell you not to eavesdrop?”
“The walls are thin.” He shrugged — what else was he supposed to do?
Shaking his head with mild exasperation, Soda said, “I didn’t really mean it.”
“Then how come you said it?”
“Well, maybe I meant it in the moment. But really, I’m glad I did it.”
“Even after all this?”
“Yeah. I just wasn’t sure I was cut out for this whole guardian business. I still ain’t, to be honest. And before you say anything, it ain’t ‘cause of anything you did. I just wanna do right by you, and I wasn’t sure I could.” He paused for several seconds, seemingly deep in thought, before adding, “Maybe that’s part of why I was so… intense about everything. I was tryin’ to prove I could do it. To myself, and to Darry.”
“Oh.” Pony didn’t know what to say to that, so he just fiddled with the lighter in his lap.
“You’re the best kid in the world,” Soda continued, looking out at the yard, “and you deserve someone better than me. Someone who doesn’t make so many stupid mistakes.” He laughed humorlessly, pushing his hair back from his forehead.
Following Soda’s gaze off into the distance, Pony considered this for a moment. While he thought about it, he brought his index finger to his mouth and used his teeth to rip off a hangnail.
Yeah, Soda had messed up. But so had Ponyboy. If they had just been honest with each other right from the start, they could’ve avoided this whole mess.
“I mean, yeah,” Pony said after a while, “you screw up sometimes. We all do. But you take good care of me. That makes you a pretty good guardian in my book.”
“You really think so?” One corner of Soda’s mouth twitched upward.
“Uh-huh. But….”
“But what?” Soda’s smile fell as quick as it came.
“But I don’t want you to act like my… my dad, or whatever. I’ve already got someone for all that stuff.” He gestured vaguely toward the house, where Darry was inside making dinner. “You should be livin’ your own life instead of worryin’ about me all the time.”
“Hey. I went overboard, I’ll give you that,” he replied, voice tinged with regret.
“You can say that again,” Pony grumbled.
“I know. And I’ll try to be better. But big brothers are always gonna take care of little brothers. That’s my job, guardian or not.”
Ponyboy remembered how things used to be before the hearing, even back before their parents died. Soda had always, always been there to dry his tears and walk him to school and share his treats and help him with his chores. This new stuff was just an extension of that, however misguided he may have been.
“I guess you’re right,” Pony told him, even though he hated to admit it.
Soda placed his elbow on his knee and rested his head in his hand, looking at Pony sideways. “I’m always gonna be lookin’ out for you. Just… from now on, I’ll try to do it in a big brother way ‘stead of a parent way. You dig?”
“I dig.” Relieved, Ponyboy knocked his knee into Soda’s. “And by the way, you don’t gotta worry anymore about me gettin’ too old for you. I’m always gonna need you.”
A wide grin made itself at home on Soda’s face. “Well, good, cause I ain’t never gonna stop takin’ care of you, even when we’re old and gray and all our teeth fall out. I’ll be there at the old folks’ home to feed you mashed peas, just like I did when you were a baby.”
“Gross!” Pony wrinkled his nose.
“Aw, c’mon. What if I pretend it’s an airplane?” Soda mimed holding a spoon, making flying noises as it flew through the air towards Pony’s mouth.
Ponyboy batted his hand away. “Stop!” A laugh burst from his throat. “I don’t want it!”
“Well, too bad. You ain’t gettin’ a vitamin P deficiency on my watch.”
“There ain’t no such thing!”
The next thing Pony knew, he was in a headlock. He escaped the way he always did: by tickling Soda’s sides until he couldn’t hang on anymore.
“Uncle!” Soda hollered, barely able to get the word out through his laughter.
After getting one more jab in, Pony finally took pity on him and returned his hands to his lap. He couldn’t stop smiling. It all felt so… normal. Like he could finally breathe again.
“I missed this,” Soda said once he’d caught his breath. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“It’s kinda weird sleepin’ in my own bed.”
“Yeah. I prob’ly shouldn’t’ve kicked you out like that. But” — Pony sighed, his shoulders slumping — “like I said, the nightmares have gotten better.”
“True.”
“And… it’s nice to not have another person’s stuff everywhere.”
“Also true.”
“And I can finally sleep without you snoring in my ear.”
“False!” Soda clutched an invisible string of pearls like a scandalized Southern Belle. “I’ve never snored a day in my life. Well — night, I guess. But if I did” — he bumped their shoulders together — “I wouldn’t blame you for wantin’ me out of there.”
Ponyboy could read between the lines — his brother was giving him an out. Soda was telling him it was okay if he didn’t want to share a room anymore. But Pony really had missed him, even if it made him feel like a baby.
“I’ve been thinking, though,” he said quietly.
“‘Bout what?”
He dropped his gaze, suddenly shy. “That there ain’t a rule sayin’ we can only share a bed when I have nightmares.”
“What’re you suggesting?” Soda asked, a hopeful note creeping into his voice.
“How ‘bout we have sleepovers sometimes, just for fun?” He didn’t know why he felt so self-conscious about this. This was his brother — he’d known him all his life. “We’ll still have our own rooms,” he added, “but whenever one of us is fixin’ to cuddle, we can share for the night.”
“Oh, honey.” With a watery grin, Soda slung an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. “I’m always fixin’ to cuddle with you.”
Pony leaned in, resting his head on Soda’s shoulder. Even though Ponyboy was quickly catching up to him in height, they still fit perfectly together. He hoped they always did.
“You know,” Pony began, twining his arm around Soda’s waist, “even though you’re the reason I’m grounded… I still love you.”
He felt Soda’s lips on the top of his head. “And even though you hog all the covers, I love you, too,” he replied, squeezing Pony’s upper arm.
They sat there for a while, enjoying the mild spring evening. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the yard. The grass was just beginning to turn green again after a long winter, and there were tiny leaves sprouting on the trees. The air smelled fresh and new, and Soda’s shoulder was warm and soft under Ponyboy’s cheek.
After a few minutes, Darry poked his head out the back door. “Dinner’s ready,” he announced. “Think you can be civil?”
Pony twisted around to look at him, grimacing. Shame pooled deep in his gut as he remembered what he’d said. “Yeah. I’m real sorry.”
“I know you are.” Darry’s voice was gentle. He stepped out onto the porch and crouched down so he could rub the back of Pony’s head. Ponyboy leaned into it. “How ‘bout you take care of the trash before we sit down to eat and we’ll call it good?”
“Sounds perfect.” Pony jumped to his feet and threw his arms around Darry’s waist, squeezing him tight in a grateful hug, before heading back into the house.
As he gathered up the trash, he heard his brothers’ voices drifting through the air. Ponyboy must not have learned his lesson the first time, because he paused to listen.
“He’s a good kid,” Soda said. “You did a good job with him.”
“So did you,” Darry replied.
Warmth filled Pony’s chest, as sweet and comforting as the last rays of evening light streaming in through the window. Maybe eavesdropping wasn’t so bad after all.