Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a chilly evening when somebody knocked on the door.

That, by itself, was weird; Nobody knocked on the Curtises' door- They just entered. Darry insisted on leaving it unlocked in case somebody needed a place to crash, and just about everybody on the east side knew that.

It was also weird because the entire gang, excluding Darry, sat in the living room.

Dally had his feet on the table while he was throwing small paper balls at Johnny and Pony, who were doing homework on the couch, Steve and Two-Bit were watching Micky, and Soda was folding the laundry. It was a typical evening in the Curtis household.

Groaning, Dally stood up and opened the door, revealing a middle-aged man he had never seen before.

"What do you want?" He asked, coolly.

"Is this the Curtis residence?" The man questioned.

"Depends, who's asking?' Two-bit joined the conversation, muting the TV.

"Are either of you Ponyboy or Sodapop?"

"I'm Soda," The middle brother deserted the laundry and hurried to the door. "What's wrong?"

Relief flooded the older man's face before he reached his hand toward Sodapop. "Nice to meet you, my name is Allan Klopman, I'm-"

"You're Darry's boss!" Ponyboy rose to his feet. "He says good things about you."

"He does?"

"Says you a real greaser at heart, sir," Jonny added quietly.

"What are you doing here?" Dally cut the conversation.

Allan nodded. "Yes, right. So today Darry had a little accident at work-"

"What?!?!" Ponyboy exclaimed, panic evident in his voice.

"He's fine," The older man reassured. "He is right here in my car."

Before he could say a word, Two-Bit, Dally, and Soda were out the door, half supporting, half carrying a semi-lucid Darry inside. Ponyboy ran straight after them.

"Come on in," Steve offered awkwardly.

Mr. Klopman stepped inside. The house was disorganized as usual; the TV was silently running in the back as Steve hurried to help Dally lay a drowsy Darry down on the armchair, the game of Scrabble Johnny and Pony had been playing an hour ago was still on the floor, and there was laundry scattered all around the room.

Mr. Klopman didn't mind it non. It looked like a happy house, and knowing his young worker's story, that's the best he could wish for the boy.

"He's burning up," Soda mumbled. "Darry, do you hear me?"

The older boy nodded slightly, his head collapsing on Sodapop's shoulder.

"Ok, good." The teen breathed a sigh of relief. "Johnny, can you get me some water and a rag? We gotta bring his temperature down or he's gonna fry his own brain."

Johnny nodded and ran to the kitchen as Ponyboy helped Steve clear the area. For once in their life, the two boys worked together without complaint.

"What happened?" Dally barked at Darry's boss.

Allan remained calm, even in the face of an angry Dallas Winston. A truly admirable trait. "He fell off a ladder."

"How come?" Two-Bit intervened once again.

"He didn't look too hot today when he came to work, but when I talked to him 'bout it he said he was fine. So, about an hour ago, I asked him to fix a tile one of the new boys put in the wrong place. Next thing I know, the kid is on the ground, passed out cold." Klopman explained.

"He passed out?" Ponyboy asked, clearly distraught.

"Yeah. Your brother also had one heck of a fever when I checked him. Took me and Billy three whole minutes to wake him up, and even then, he was spewing nonsense."

"A concussion, probably," Johnny mumbled.

Mr. Klopman nodded. "Yeah, and the fact that he is running a nasty fever sure as hell ain't helping. Wanted to take him to the hospital, but..."

"But what?" Soda intervened. "Look, if it's money, we'll figure it o-"

"It's not that, kid," The older man interrupted kindly. "I would have paid the bill, he was hurt at work. Your brother freaked out when I told him we were taking him there. Started trashing so bad, I thought he'd give himself another blow to the head."

"Fuck, yeah, I forgot how terrified Darry is of hospitals," Sodapop nodded. "Fuck."

"He should be alright," The man tried reassuring the teen. "He is one strong kid, your brother."

"I know," Sodapop smiled, rising to his feet after giving Darry's hand a light squeeze. "He's Superman."

Allan chuckled. "Well, tell Superman I don't wanna see him for the next four days at the least. And you," He crunched down, looking Darry in his glossy eyes. "You take it easy, ok? I can't lose my best roofer right before winter. Don't worry about pay, we'll figure it out one way or another. Just take care, kid."

"Thank you," Sodapop couldn't stop himself from embracing the older man. "Thank you so much."

"Aw, hell, that's the least I could do."

Soda shook his head as he went into the kitchen to fetch his brother a glass of water. Dally and Two-bit stayed with Darry as Ponyboy walked his brother's boss to the door.

"Thank you for bringing him home," He said quietly.

The man smiled. "You are Ponyboy, right?" The young teen nodded.

"You should know, your brother is awfully proud of you."

"Really?" Pony's eyes widened.

"Shoot, the damm kid won't stop talking about you and Soda if you get him started! Just yesterday, he was bragging to all of us that you scored highest in your class in English!"

"He did?" Ponyboy felt something choke him.

"Wouldn't shut up about it," The man smiled. "He loves you like the devil, kid."

Seeing the tears in Ponyboy's eyes, Mr. Klopman awkwardly nodded. "Well, I should get going before my lady gets mad. You take care of your brother, ok kid?"

"We will," Ponyboy promised. "Thank you, sir."

"Let me know if there is anything else you need."

And with that, Mr. Klopman turned and left.

"Darry, please, we gotta get your fever down, Sodapop begged as he kneeled beside his older brother, holding a glass of water and an aspirin.

"Mama," Darry whined. "Ma, I'm tired."

Everybody froze.

"Darry," Soda managed to say, "Darry, honey, you can go to sleep as soon as you drink this, ok?"

"It hurts, Ma," A single tear escaped Darry's eyes. "It really hurts."

"I know, baby," Soda gently coached, his eyes shining with tears. "Just take this and everything will be better in the morning."

Darry nodded, his eyes moving all around the room, scanning the frozen figures before settling on Soda again. "Are you finally here to switch with me?"

If you listened carefully, you would hear the sound os six hearts breaking.

"What?"

"Please, Ma, I can't do this anymore." Tears rolled down Darry's cheeks freely now. "I tried, I swear I tried, but they need you back."

"Darry..." Ponyboy whispered, hesitantly stepping to his brother's side. "What are you talking about?"

"I knew you would hear me eventually," Darry blabbed, his head hitting the back of the chair as he shook it. "I know you love me, Ma, but I can't do this. We need to switch."

"Darrel," Dally's rough voice interrupted the man's fevered ramble. "What do you mean when you say switch?"

Darry's head dropped to the side, his eyes fixing on the mirror to his left with a smile. "You know what I mean, Pa."

"Let's say I forgot," Dally insisted.

"How could you forget?" Darry chuckled. "That's the first thing I asked you to do when I saw your bodies, remember?"

Ponyboy buried himself in Johnny's arms. Johnny himself was frozen, only wrapping his arms around his friend in pure instinct.

"I said, 'Pa, I can't do this without you, switch with me, please!'" Darry giggled. "And it worked! You are here. I missed you."

"Darrel," Soda held his brother's face in his hand, forcing him to look the younger boy in his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, hi, ma, why are you crying?" Darry sank into his brother's hold and smiled softly. "I missed you."

"Darry..." Two-Bit said in a sad voice. "I know you miss your parents. Shoot, man, we all do, but you can't switch places with them. We need you."

The older Curtis narrowed his eyes. "Who needs me?" He giggled.

Before Steve could say anything, Darry continued, suddenly serious, looking as directly as he could at Sodapop. "I know I promised to take care of them, but I don't know what I'm doing. Mama, I'm screwing this all up."

"You are doing a good job," Sodapop whispered in a tearful voice as he held his brother. "You are doing such a good job, honey."

"Johnny and Dally got hurt because of me. Keith and Steve stopped eating here because they know I can barely afford to feed the boys, and I can't even argue with them because they are right. Soda had to drop out because I couldn't hold anything together, and Ponyboy..." Darry laughed, tears flowing. "Pony hates me, and I don't blame him."

"I don't hate you," Ponyboy pushed himself out of Johnny's arms. "Darry, you listening? I love you."

"I'm ready to go," The older boy ignored his brother, staring at Sodapop with intensity. "Please, Mama, I'm ready to go now."

And with that, Darrel Curtis, the gang's very own Superman, passed out.

Chapter Text

Johnny couldn't move.

He watched as Soda and Dally frantically shook Darry, trying to wake the older boy up. He heard Steve and Two-Bit talking behind him in hushed tones. He saw the tears welling in Ponyboy's eyes, wishing he could comfort his best friend, but incapable of moving.

'Please, Ma, I can't do this anymore.'

Two-Bit pushed past him, kneeling beside Darry like Soda. Johnny tried to listen, but couldn't hear anything over the ringing in his ears.

'Johnny and Dally got hurt because of me.'

He must have jumped back a good two feet when he felt Steve's arm on his shoulder. He saw the older boy's lips moving, but no sound reached his ears.

'I'm ready to go now.'

How long had Darry felt that way? How long did he walk around wishing he were gone? How long had he been carrying the blame for Johnny and Dally's injuries?

How long had his friend been buckling under the pressure of life without anyone helping him?

Johnny knew what it was like to want to die. Knowing Darry felt that way —knowing he had done absolutely nothing to help a guy who had taken such good care of him —Johnny wanted to throw up.

Slowly, the ringing in his ears turned down, and he could hear Soda and Dally arguing.

"-telling you he we fucking can't, Dallas!"

Johnny had never heard Soda sound so angry.

"Your brother got his head smashed!" Dally yelled. "What the hell's wrong with you? We gotta take him to a hospital!"

"Look, Soda, his boss said he would cover the bill-" Two-Bit inserted himself between Dally and Soda.

"It's not that!" Sodapop shouted, still kneeling near Darry. "Fuck, you think I give a crap about it right now? It's not that. Darry- he can't handle hospitals. You saw how confused he was, I don't-"

"A little confused is a whole lot better than dead," Dally argued, his eyes holding a mixture of coldness and despair that Johnny had only seen once, in a burning church, not so long ago-

"You think he don't know that?" Steve intervened, moving to stand near his best friend.

Behind them, Ponyboy was struggling to breathe, clearly amid a panic attack.

Watching his best friend suffer gave Johnny the ability to unfreeze his legs and rush to the younger boy's side.  Knowing Ponyboy needs him right now allowed him to push down his own fears. There will be time to deal with them later, when he is alone and nobody needs him anymore. Squeezing Pony's arm, Johnny kept on listening to the conversation.

Dally seemed to lose the last shred of self-control he had left. "Look, I get that this ain't a blast for you, but we've got to get Superman some help or he'll end up in a coffin!"

During the conversation, Darry's head lolled to the side. Johnny was about to approach him when Two-Bit spoke.

"We have to go to the hospital."

And Darry screamed.

Everything was dark, and kind of fuzzy.

Darry felt like he was floating in an inflatable kids' pool, like the one they used to have in the backyard when they were younger.

His peace was rudely interrupted by two officers knocking on the door of the pool.

Since when did the pool have a door?

"We have to go to the hospital," One of them told him, and Darry drowned.

As he was drowning, Darry noticed the door. He opened it, stumbling into a dark hallway, soaked to the bone.

Darry recognized that hallway.

And then Darry wasn't in a hallway anymore, he was in the room at the end of it, and suddenly he knew where he recognized this hallway from, and no, he can't see them like this again, he can't do it, he won't, because the mangled bodies on the table aren't his parents, they simply aren't-

Darry opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

Darry was screaming bloody murder.

Two-Bit had never seen his friend act that way.

Not when he busted half of his face open in a rumble two years ago, not when he had a fever of 105 in seventh grade, not even when his parents died last year.

No, Darry was always Superman.

He didn't crack, didn't break, didn't sweat. He did everything with a witty comment and a brave face. He was their rock; nothing fazed him.

Right now, watching Soda desperately trying to calm his 20-year-old brother down, Two-Bit was starting to doubt that theory.

Dally had staggered backward in disbelief, clearly sharing Two-Bit's confusion and fear. His eyes stayed fixated on the boy in the chair, who by now had stopped screaming and began sobbing quietly into himself.

"Mom," He sobbed. "Ma, please."

"It's ok," Sodapop said, stroking his older brother's hair as tears streamed down his face. "It's ok, honey."

"Please come back," Darry continued sobbing. "Please, Ma, come back. Don't leave me."

Soda continued stroking his brother's hair softly as the older boy cried.

The room was quiet for the few minutes it took Darry to calm down again.

Everybody seemed frozen in their place.

"What the fuck was that?" Dally asked as Darry stopped crying, eyes closed once again. His face was stained with tears, and his breath came out in pained huffs, but it seemed like he had fallen asleep once again.

"I told you," Soda replied in a tired voice. "He can barely hear that word, let alone go to that place. Last time we were there was when Johnny-" He hesitated, looking back at the teen supporting his little brother. "And he freaked out so bad he passed out."

"Fuck," Two-Bit managed. "Fuck."

"Yeah, Soda agreed. "Fuck summes it up real good."

"Ok," Dally agreed. "Ok, we can't take him to... you-know-where. What do we do?"

Sodapop looked around in confusion. "You asking me?"

"He's your brother, ain't he?"

"We need to get his fever down," Ponyboy said quietly, wiping the tears off his face with his sleeve. "Fever makes nightmares worse."

"I don't think it's nightmares," Two-Bit solemnly added. "I think... I think he's reliving that day in the morgue."

And wasn't that a depressing thought. Darry's own memories were the things nightmares were made out of.

"Let's get him to bed," Sodapop decided. "Dally, Steve, grab his legs, help me lift him up. Johnny, you and Pony go get us a cold bowl of water and a new rag, ok?"

Nodding, the two younger boys disappeared into the kitchen.

Two-bit sighed and helped Soda hoist Darry up by his arms. The older boy groaned, but his eyes remained closed as he was carried to his bedroom and laid gently on the mattress.

Johnny entered quietly with the bowl and the rag, Ponyboy at toe. The younger boy sat on the bed next to his sleeping brother, not saying a word, just caressing his hand.

Sodapop dabbed the wet cloth over Darry's face while the others stood in complete silence.

"You should get some rest," Steve told his best friend after a few moments, taking the bowl from Johnny. "Go eat something."

"I can't leave him alone-"

"What am I, chopped liver? Go, I'll call you if something happens."

"You promise?" There was uncertainty in Soda's voice.

"Yeah, I promise, asshole," Steve nudged Soda. "Go. I got this."

"Thank you."

Two-bit decided to go to the kitchen and get a head start on dinner. After all, if Soda wanted a moment to talk with his best friend, no one could blame him.

When Darry opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Paul's face staring at him.

"Darry?" Paul questioned.

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh, you're sick, I'm watching over you."

Darry could only hum in response.

"Do you need anything? I should go get Soda-"

"No," Darry reached out to stop him. "No, stay."

"Ok," Paul replied. "Ok."

Paul looked tired and thinner than he ever was. Darry wondered if he had been eating properly.

"I missed you," He had a feeling he shouldn't admit this, but the words left his mouth before he could think about them.

"I've been right here?" Paul answered in confusion.

"No you haven't," Darry argued. "You haven't even talked to me since you went to college. Why are you here?"

"What?" Paul looked lost.

"Don't fuck with me," Darry was beginning to get angry. "What are you doing in my house?"

A look of hurt flashed across the man's face. "What?"

"Who let you in, Paul?" Darry asked, tired.

"Oh, Uh," His Ex-best friend hesitated for a moment. "Pony did."

"Pony did?"

"Yeah, uh, I heard you were hurt and I wanted... I wanted to see you?"

"Oh," Darry smiled. "I'm hurt?"

"Yeah," Paul nodded. "You hit your head and you have a wicked fever, but you'll be ok."

"That's nice." Darry perked up when a thought came to his mind. "Where's my dad? I saw him somewhere here-"

Paul's face twisted in pain.

Why was he in pain? Had he hurt himself during training?

"Why don't you go back to sleep?" His friend suggested. "You'll feel better when you wake up."

"Ok," Darry nuzzled into the blanket. "Hey, Paul?"

"Yeah?"

"It's good to have you back. I missed you." 

"Why did you miss me?" Paul blurted out. "You got so many people that love you here."

"No I don't," Darry laughed. "The only one alive that loves me is Soda, and that's just 'cause he loves everybody. And 'sides," He shrugged. "I need an excuse to miss my favorite cub?"

"Cub?"

"No, lion!" Darry was wheezing at his own joke. "What's the matter with you, baby? Usually, you'd be in my bed telling me I'm your favorite twunk by now!"

And with that, Darry Curtis had slipped into the darkness once again.

Soda was pacing so fast that Dally thought he might burn a hole in the carpet.

"Why don't ya stop moving around for a damm minute?" He asked as he brought the cigarette near his mouth.

"Why don't you stop breathing for a damm minute?" Sodapop snapped back, before realizing what he said and stopping in his tracks. "Shit, Dal, I-"

"It's ok," Dally waved his apology off. "Just, relax for a moment, ok?"

"I can't relax," Soda replied, beginning to pace once again. "I can't, because I'm now responsible for everything, and if something happens to Darry because of me I won't- and Pony- And-"

Soda's spiraling was cut short by Johnny, who laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Soda," The younger boy said in a quiet voice. "You don't gotta take care of everything, ok? I got Pony, he's just taking a shower right now. Steve's got Darry, Two got dinner covered, and Dal's got you."

"Ok," Soda took a breath. "Ok. Thank you, Johnny."

"It's ok to be scared," Johnny added in the same quiet voice, his large eyes staring into Sodapop's. "Darry tells me that all the time. But you ain't alone."

"Kid is right," Dally agreed, passing Johnny his cigarette. "We got you, ya hear? Now, I know you ain't exactly jazzed about this whole situation, but you are doing good. Nobody here cares for your brothers more than you."

"Dally?" Soda said as Johnny went to check on Ponyboy. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I'm scared I made the wrong choice," Sodapop admitted. "I'm scared something's gonna happen to Darrel, and it'll be on me."

"Shoot, me too," Dally agreed.

"Well, that was real helpful, thanks," The younger boy turned to leave.

"Wait, fuck- I ain't good at this, ok? I'm trying to say we are all worried 'bout Superman. And- Damm it, Soda, the kid is right, ok? You gotta let yourself feel scared."

Dally was scared as well. Seeing Darry like that was unsettling. He was supposed to be unbreakable. He was the one who held Dally after the fire, telling him everything was going to be ok. Watching him break down in tears felt wrong.

Sodapop looked at Dally in shock. "Who are you and what did you do with our hood?"

"Zip it," Dally rolled his eyes. "Just- You ain't alone, ok? You can be scared and angry but just know we got your back."

"Thank you," Soda whispered, and then, to Dally's immense surprise, hugged him tightly.

Sensing the other teenager needed it, Dally awkwardly wrapped his arms around Soda and squeezed him back.

"I'm going to check on dinner," Soda informed him after they finally broke apart. "See if Two needs any help."

Watching Soda leave, Dally could only imagine the kind of stress the younger boy was under. Dally didn't envy him in the slightest.

He was thinking about joining the boys in the kitchen as well when he caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a hyperventilating Johnny Cade at the edge of the hallway.

Not good.

Quickly, Dally knelt down beside the boy.

"Hey, Johnnycakes," He tried to will his calmest, least gruffest voice. "What are we doing on the floor?"

Johnny continued hyperventilating.

"Ok, got it. Come on,"

He helped the boy get up, leading him to Soda and Pony's room. "Sit down for a moment, will you?"

Johnny shook his head, still wheezing, tears streaming down his face.

"Oh, yes you are," Dally declared, pushing the boy gently onto the bed. "Listen to me, kid, you gotta breathe."

Johnny's breaths started to slow down, tho they still came out in pants.

"Good. You doing great, kid," Dally said, robbing Johnny's arm. "What's going on?"

"Darry-" Johnny choked out. "My fault-"

"Now where in the hell you got a stupid idea like that in your head?" Dally inquired.

Johnny was a good kid. The best of them. And the fact that people have tried to break this quiet and sweet kid enraged Dally to no end.

"I- Yesterday, I-" Johnny took a moment to calm himself down, wiping the tears from his face. "Yesterday, I noticed that Darry wasn't doing too hot, but when I asked him, he said he was fine, and to not worry Soda and Pony, so I- I didn't, and now-" Johnny began shaking again, silent tears running down his cheeks.

"Aw, hell. Johnny," Dally squeezed the younger boy's palm, kneeling so he'd have to look him in the eye. "It ain't your fault Darry's an idiot that goes to work sick, ok?"

"They're gonna hate me now," Johnny whispered. "Fuck, Dally-"

"Nobody's gonna hate you," Dally assured the other teen, suppressing the need to punch every asshole that made Johnny doubt that he was loved. "You hear me?"

"Pony and Soda, they-"

"-Know it's not your fault Darrel's an idiot," Dally cut him off.

"They're gonna hate me and kick me out, and I won't have anywhere to sleep when it's raining, and I won't-"

"Will you just breathe for a moment?" Dally scolded, trying to figure out the right thing to say. "Look, ain't nobody gonna kick you out, ok?"

"They're gonna hate me," Johnny continued as if he didn't hear Dally. "I- Shit- I-"

Clearly, trying to talk logically with the kid ain't gonna be much help right now. Dally has to find a different way to calm the boy down before he starts hyperventilating again and passes out from lack of oxygen.

"Listen, Johnny, listen-" He grabbed the younger boy's hands. "You know I won't let nothing happen to you, right?"

Johnny took in a breath. "Right."

"Good. Now if- And I'm saying if because it'll never happen- If you can't stay here, I ain't gonna let you stay in the lot, ok? You come stay with me."

"Dally, I can't ask-"

"You ain't asking, kid, and neither am I. I'm telling you, ok? I got your back."

Johnny took in a deep breath.

"Thank you."

Dally nodded. "Shoot, I have no idea why we are even having this conversation, the Curtises love you like blood. But you always got me to back you up as well, ok?"

Johnny nodded, and Dally stood up and turned to leave.

"Hey, Dal?" Johnny inquired in a hesitant voice.

"Yeah?"

"You think..." He swallowed. "You think thinking about myself after everything that happened to Darry makes me a bad person?"

"What? No, kid," Dally sat next to Johnny on the bed. "It's one of those instinct things."

"How can you know?"

"Kid," Dally sighed. "You are the best damm person here in Tulsa. If you ain't a good person, then the rest of us is just the devil incarnated."

Johnny smiled.

"Now come on," Dally stood, pulling Johnny to stand with him. "Let's go see what's for dinner, huh?"

Chapter Text

Steve had spent the last hour dabbing a wet cloth over Darry's forehead in a desperate attempt to break his fever.

Sodapop and the rest of the gang were in the living room, eating dinner. Steve prayed to god that his best friend would at least eat something since he looked like he was about to pass out.

Steve loved Soda. He did. However, the guy did not handle stress well - especially when it was up to him to make the big decisions.

That's why he insisted Sodapop has to take a break and eat- if he were to stay there, he would undoubtedly go insane with worry.

And shoot, was he glad for that decision when Darry woke up, confused and talking to Paul; Steve's heart nearly broke seeing the older boy like that- he couldn't imagine how Soda would have felt if Darry woke up and mistaken him for their mom again. It was bad enough as it was- With Darrel mistaking Steve for Paul.

The younger boy shuddered in disgust as he thought about the Soc Darry apparently missed so much.

Weren't they enough?

Deep down, he knew it wasn't fair. Darry had taken care of them for a long time, and it's natural for him to miss his friend from back when things were simple. What bothered him most was what he said about them.

 'the only one alive that loves me is Soda, and that's just 'cause he loves everybody'

How long had Darry been feeling like that? How long did one of his best friends walk around feeling like the only person who loved him was his brother, and that even that had nothing to do with who he was as a person? How many dinners had Steve eaten in the Curtis household, unaware that Darry thought Steve didn't love and appreciate him? How long did his friend think he was only tolerated for the value he brought to the table?

Because that was what it was. Steve wasn't a genius by any standard, but even he could tell what was going on. Darry didn't believe he could be loved for who he was, only for what he could do for other people.

The sick boy groaned in his sleep, shifting in bed. His fever was still going strong, and the bump he had on the back of his head seemed painful.

It was uncanny, seeing Darrel Curtis like that.

There was a reason that everybody called Darry 'Superman'. He was invincible. Strong, tall, fearless. He was hardworking and brave, a total beast in a rumble and their protector.

He wasn't supposed to look like that, sweating like a pig and calling his mother in his sleep. It wasn't right. It wasn't how things were supposed to be.

Steve was pulled away from his thoughts as Darry began trashing and turning again, groaning into his pillow. He tried dabbing the cloth over his forehead again, but Darry flinched away from his touch, tossing his head from side to side as tears began to fall from his eyes.

"No," He mumbled. "Please, no!"

"Darry," Steve tried to soothe, feeling the panic setting in his heart. "It's ok, you're not there."

"No," Darry cried. "No!"

Steve felt torn between the need to rescue his friend from the nightmare he was undoubtedly trapped in, and the knowledge that Darry desperately needed his sleep to heal.

As he watched Darry cry out in pain and fear, Steve couldn't take it anymore. He reached out to gently shake the older boy awake.

'Please don't think I'm Paul, Please don't think I'm Paul...'

"Steve?"

Oh, thank god.

Everything hurt.

Darry was lying on his stomach in the park.

In front of him lay the lifeless body of a teen boy, gun in his hand, dead eyes staring at the stars. He had tear stains on his face, and his chest was riddled with bullet holes.

Darry tried to pull himself toward the younger boy, but the park disappeared, and he was now on a train.

It was going faster and faster, and Darry had this awful feeling that he had to stop it before something terrible happened. He began running, willing his body to go faster and faster, and then-

He was in a field. A church was burning. He could hear the sound of kids screaming. He took off running again, knowing in his heart that Johnny was trapped there, that Johnny was going to die if he didn't do something-

And he was in the park again. This time, near the water fountain. He looked around, unable to see anything until a quiet voice made him look behind him.

"How could you?" Soda questioned, expression dark and pained, unlike the brother Darrel knew. "How could you do that?"

"Do what?" Darry questioned helplessly, desperate to make sense of this whole thing.

"You killed him," Soda whispered. "You killed us."

Only then did Darry notice that Soda was holding a limp body in his arms. But that couldn't be, it couldn't be him, he was-

"Ponyboy?" Darry whispered.

"Don't say his name!" Sodapop shouted, uncharacteristically angry. "You don't get to say his name! You killed him!"

"I-" Darry's voice wavered. "I... no-

" "You promised to take care of us. You promised!" Soda shouted. "You said everything will be ok, and we trusted you!"

"I'm sorry," Darry felt the tears choking him.

"Are you?" Soda's eyes have never been this cold before. "Didn't think you cared."

"I- Wh- Of course I care, Pepsi-"

"Well, we didn't know it, did we? You were never home, and when you were, all you did was holler and yell! Shoot, you even slapped Ponyboy that time!"

"I'm sorry," Darry choked, refusing to look at the broken body in his brother's arms, refusing to make this real.

"You're sorry." Sodapop scuffed. "You killed our brother and now you are sorry."

"No," Darry begged. "No, he is-"

"He is dead," Sodapop declared in anger. "He is gone like Mom and Dad and soon I'll be gone with him and it's all your fucking fault!"

"I know!" Darry yelled. "I know, I'm sorry-"

"You were never there," Sodapop continued. "You are so useless that I had to drop out of high school just so we can make ends meet. Do you realize what a pathetic joke you are?"

"I know," Darry was sobbing now. "Please, Soda-"

But Soda had let go of Ponyboy's body and his hands were now holding a gun. He smiled at Darry as he slowly took it to his head.

"No!" Darry shouted, attempting to move, to stop his brother from hurting himself, but finding himself incapable of moving. "Please, No!"

"It's your fault," Soda whispered before he pulled the trigger.

"No!" Darry cried out. "No, Soda- please-"

But it was too late. He was now able to move again, so he dragged himself slowly to where his two brothers lay side by side with their eyes closed.

"I'm sorry," He cried as he gathered both of them into his arms, both bodies so young and light. "I'm so sorry, please don't go!"

He had no idea how long he lay there, But when he opened his eyes again, He saw a familiar face.

"Steve?"

"What do you think he meant by 'switch with me?'" Ponyboy quietly asked while moving his pasta from side to side on his plate.

Soda, Two-Bit, Dally, Johnny, and Ponyboy all sat around the table, staring at the food Two-Bit cooked.

The pasta looked good, but none of them could bring themselves to eat.

"You know what it means," Soda replied, wishing to be anywhere but there.

"It could mean lots of things," Ponyboy defended himself.

"It means your brother wishes he were dead instead of your parents," Dally cut him off. "Happy?"

"Dally!"

"What! The kid asked."

"You can't just-"

"I can't just what?" Dally pushed his chair from the table and stood up. "Tell him what we all know? Tell the kid that his brother is running himself to the ground caring for him and Soda? That Darry wants to fucking die? That he thinks we don't love or care for him? Well Fuck that. We need to talk about it."

"Dally's right," Soda said, surprising everyone, including himself.

"Soda-" Two-Bit protested.

"No," Sodapop abandoned his plate as well. "No, this isn't right. My brother is walking around thinking that he is doing a bad job and that you-" Soda pointed at Ponyboy- "Hate him. This isn't right. We need to fix it."

"I don't hate him," Ponyboy said, looking at the verge of tears again. "I love Darry, Soda."

"I know you do," Sodapop sighed, all the fight leaving his body. "But he doesn't."

Ponyboy looked like he was going to reply when Steve entered the room.

"What's wrong? Is he ok?" Soda hurried to his best friend. "Steve?"

"He's fine," The other boy reassured. "He is still running a fever, but he feels less warm. He woke up."

"He woke up? And you left him alone?"

"He won't talk to me. Just keeps apologizing over and over again. Called for you and Ponyboy a few times."

Soda's heart was stuck in his throat. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

"Johnny," He turned to the teen sitting next to his brother, a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Take care of Pony, yeah?"

"I'm coming," Ponyboy protested.

"No, you are not," Sodapop replied. "You are staying here with Johnny."

"But-"

"Pony, I said you are staying here!" Soda raised his voice.

Everybody stared at him.

He wanted to die.

"Finish dinner," He said before turning to go to Darry's room.

Fuck, was this how his older brother felt every day? The fact he isn't suffering from a nervous breakdown is a miracle.

"How is he really?" He asked Steve before they entered Darry's room.

"Still hallucinating," His best friend whispered. "He won't stop crying and apologizing, no matter what I do."

"Fuck."

"Yeah," Steve agreed and opened the door.

Seeing his big brother lying in his bed, face covered in sweat and tears as he shook and twisted, broke something in Soda's chest.

Sodapop knew his brother wasn't invincible, despite the way he pretended to be. He knew that Darry could get sick or hurt just like anybody else, and that that was ok.

But knowing his big brother could get hurt and seeing him hurt were two very different things.

"Mama?"

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

"Hi baby," Soda tried to hold back his tears. "I heard you aren't feeling so hot."

"Hurts," Darry groaned, then shot up in panic. "Mom- The boys-"

"Are ok," Soda reassured, sitting on the bed beside his brother, moving sticky strands of hair from his eyes.

"I failed, Mama, they're gone-"

"They are fine," Soda promised. "You did a good job, baby."

"They are?" Darry's body seemed to relax. "I did?"

"Yes honey," Soda let a few tears slip away as he caressed his brother's cheek. "I'm real proud of you."

Darry smiled at him and finally stopped shaking. "How are you feeling?'

"Fine," Darry grimaced while his eyes closed against his will. "I love you."

"I love you too," Soda whispered, Feeling Steve's hand on his shoulder. "More than you know."

Ponyboy had barely slept the past two days. The first day, Darry would wake up screaming every few hours. Soda forbade Ponyboy from helping Darry, leaving the young teen anxious and worried.

Johnny tried to calm him down, but he could tell that the other boy was scared as well.

It was hard not to be. Their Superman was hurt and scared; how were they supposed not to be?

'Pony hates me, and I don't blame him.'

Ponyboy couldn't get those words out of his head. Despite being an angsty teen, Ponyboy loved both his brothers. Seeing him like that? Knowing he felt like that? It was unsettling.

The next day, Darry mainly slept, only waking every few hours and mumbling incoherent stuff. At 11 pm yesterday, his fever finally broke. Ponyboy heard Soda sobbing in relief from the next room.

The swelling on his head significantly went down, and from what Two-bit and Dally told him, Darry had stopped hallucinating Yesterday morning.

And still, Ponyboy couldn't fall back asleep. It was 5 Am, on a Saturday. He had nowhere to go, but he couldn't fall back asleep.

After half an hour of tossing and turning, Ponyboy gave up on falling back asleep and got out of bed.

It was weird for him to sleep alone. He had gotten used to the presence of Soda near him every night, but the past few days, he was glued to Darry's side.

Two-Bit and Dally took care of food and everything, which was weird because Ponyboy didn't know Dally could cook. Steve has made it his mission to drag Soda outside for a few moments every few hours, and Johnny had drawn into himself even more, taking off a day ago to the lot.

Ponyboy couldn't leave the house to look for him, too scared that anything would happen to Darry, but Dally had reassured him that Johnny was safe.

Ponyboy didn't always trust Dally, but he did on this matter. He knew Johnny was the only thing Dally loved, and that Dally wouldn't be here if Johnny were in some kind of trouble.

He made his way to the kitchen, determined to make himself useful despite Soda. He might not be able to help Darry, but he can make fucking breakfast, that's for sure.

Careful not to wake Steve and Two-bit, who slept in the living room, Ponyboy made a mental note of everything they had. Two-Bit had gone shopping yesterday (Although Ponyboy suspected no payment was involved), so they had fresh eggs and orange juice. Surely he could make some omelets and toast, it's not that hard.

Upon entering the kitchen, he was welcomed by the sight of his oldest brother making coffee.

"Darry?"

"Hum?" Darry responded. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Uh..." Ponyboy felt numb. "How are you feeling?"

Darry flashed him a smile. "I'm good, baby, are you ok?"

Pony felt like his mind wasn't comprehending the situation fast enough. "Why are you out of bed?"

"Gotta go to work," Darry laughed. "I'll be back for dinner tho."

"But today is Sunday," Was the only response he could think of.

"Oh," Darry tightened his eyebrows.

And just like that, the damm broke, and all of the emotions Ponyboy had been trying to repress came out of him. The fear and dread he had felt the past few days manifested themselves as tears, and he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around his very surprised brother, holding on to him for dear life.

"I thought you were gonna die," He sobbed, his tears staining the front of Darry's shirt. "I thought you were going to die and leave us alone."

"I- Baby, what's wrong?" Darry carefully hugged him back. "What is this because I was a bit sick?"

Ponyboy pulled away, all of his fear being replaced by anger. "Sick? You call that 'a bit sick'? You could have fucking died!"

"Language," Darry warned.

"You went to work knowing you weren't up for it and you could have died!"

"Ponyboy, please, you are going to wake your brother up-"

"Good!" Pony shouted. "Good, because maybe he can talk some sense into you. What the hell were you even thinking?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ponyboy was aware that he sounded exactly like Darry, but he didn't care about it right now.

"Kid is right," Two-Bit appeared behind him. "What the fuck was going through your head, man?"

"Not you too, Keith," Darry sighed.

"I'll tell you what he was thinking," Steve added, his hair still tousled from sleep. "He was thinking that we don't love him, that if he would stop for a minute and take a break, we would leave. Am I right, Darry?"

"Stay out of this," Darry hissed.

"Darry?!"

Everybody turned when Soda entered the room, clearly distressed.

"Darry?"

"Hi, Pepsi."

Half a second later, Soda was holding on to Darry as his life depended on it.

"Don't you fucking do this to me again," Pony could hear Soda hiss as he hugged their brother.

"Ok," Soothed Darry. "Ok,"

All wasn't right. They still had a lot to talk about, bills to pay, wounds to check, and bosses to update. But it was a start. A good start, for something new. At the end of the day, even Superman has a family, right?