Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ponyboy didn’t know how long it had been from when Joey brought the gun down to his head, and in all honesty, he didn’t care.

As long as Sodapop was safe, that was all that mattered.

Stay limp. Don’t let him know you’re awake.

Joey pulled Ponyboy’s lashed feet out of the back of the car and carried him like a fireman over his shoulder, opening a door and heading inside. Ponyboy felt like he was being bumped against his shoulder. Stairs? Were those stairs?

“Why is he here?” Ponyboy heard someone ask. It sounded familiar, but he was sure he'd never heard him before. It was his tone, the biting, condescending hatred that Socs used to speak of greasers.

“He’s the one Dallas cared for,” Joey said, deliberately seeming like he was trying to be tougher than he was. "It'll hurt the big one just as bad if we hurt him. And he won't fight back."

And he wouldn't. He wouldn't dare. Because fighting back meant endangering Sodapop again.

The leader let out a grunt, of approval or maybe just resignation. "Take care of the other one. We'll handle the little thing."

Suddenly the ground came up and hit the side of Ponyboy's body. His restraints were removed, but he kept his eyes shut and his head lolling.

Keep quiet, keep quiet, keep quiet -

Until he heard a groan and couldn't help himself.

"Soda?"

Chapter Text

When he woke up, he wished he hadn't. His eyes were still closed, his arm still tied up above his head. If he didn't get out soon, it could get a lot worse.

The worst was his ribs. If he moved the wrong way his cage would shift and slide in his torso. He still remembered the scream he let out when he was hit, and Darry's when he heard.

Oh, Darry, find me please… Don't let Pony get hurt…

No. His ribs weren't the worst part. The worst part was the crushing, desperate loneliness that demanded to be felt. That he had to resort to imagining Darry's strong arms embracing him and Ponyboy's sweet smiling face that he loved to kiss goodnight. Steve's sarcastic backhanded insults in the soft tone only Soda and Evie got. Two-Bit’s loud, happy laughter that could get the most stoic cops grinning.

Was that all he would have left of them? A groan, half of wakefulness and half of despair, escaped Soda's lips before he could stop it.

“Soda?”

The voice – that sweet little voice. He'd known it all his life. It has changed, deepened a little, lost a bit of its airy wistfulness, but unmistakable.

Ponyboy.

But no, he didn't dare let himself hope. Because that wouldn't be hope. He would never, never wish for Pony, sweet little precious Ponyboy, to endure what he must.

“Go on, Joey. Take care of him. We've got the rest.”

His arm hit the ground with a dull, sudden thud, and he was being lifted over a shoulder and carried upstairs.

Chapter Text

“So you're the one Dallas cared about,” the ringleader said to him, nudging him with his boot like he was a dead animal. “Gotta say, I wouldn't have thought it to be you.”

There it is. The kidnapper doesn't care. Ponyboy's leg is tied to the same support beam as Soda's was. At least it isn't his arm.

And what do you think Soda went through?

You asked for this.

Don't try to act like you're the victim.

You have no right to be sad.

The light in the window was nearly gone. Any second, any second, something would happen.

“Kenneth, do you know what time it is?” Ringleader guy asked.

“What time, Anthony?” the boy said with an evil looking smirk.

“I think it's time we made a phone call.”

No. God, please, please no. Don't make Darry have to know.

The dial tone rang for a while before Ponyboy finally heard Darry.

“Hello again, Darrel,” the ringleader –Anthony– leered into the phone. “I don't know how much you know of this. Your brothers are even more alike than I thought!”

Darry's voice, harsh and tinny over the phone, blared inaudibly from one end.

“No, I only have the one with me. This one will almost be better. He's, oh how to say it, compliant. He won't fight. We’ll kill him that much quicker and you'll still get to hear every second of it! Lucky you. Doesn't that sound fun?”

After more screaming from the phone, Anthony wordlessly —but pointedly— gave Ponyboy the phone.

“Dar…” he started, and was glad for Darry's interrupting him. Seeing as he didn't know what to say.

“Ponyboy?! Oh, Ponybaby, what were you thinking?! You weren't, were you?” Darry's voice is an unnatural—unthinkable—mix of a plea and a desperate wail. “I—oh, darlin’, I'm coming, I promise, I won't leave you alone, little colt—”

“No! No, Darry, no! Don't come after me!” Ponyboy burst out. He couldn't, he just couldn't! “They know where we live! Lock the door! You have to keep Soda safe!”

“He's—they’re hurting you, angel,” Darry sobbed. “You could die there, and oh, sweetheart, I'll be damned if I let my brother die when I could have saved him—”

“Better me than Soda or you!”

A tiny choked keen fell out of the phone. “Baby, I'm coming. I've got you. I'm not going to stop until I have you in my arms again.”

No! No, no, no! He's supposed to prioritize Soda!

“Fine then, Dar,” Ponyboy sobbed. “You won't hear me again at all unless you promise me you'll never do something so dumb as go after me.”

Chapter Text

Darry stumbled through the door, barely able to see from the tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

Ponyboy was nowhere to be found.

They'd searched for several hours, in several miles each way they could think of. Darry's mind churned with all the things that could have happened to Pony.

He could be injured, waiting and waiting for help from his big brother who wasn't there.

He could have been taken, bound in some room far from home with only kidnappers for company.

He could be dead, the sparkling light in his eyes gone forever.

Darry gasped out a sob. If he was gone… Ponyboy. Sodapop. Both his babies gone in as many days.

The phone.

The phone was ringing.

“Hello again, Darrel,” the voice leered into the phone. “I don't know how much you know of this. Your brothers are even more alike than I thought!”

Brothers. Plural.

“What?! What do you mean? They're both with you?”

The voice chuckled menacingly.

“No, I only have the one with me. This one will almost be better. He's, oh how to say it, compliant. He won't fight.”

Only one.

He won't fight.

Oh, Pony, what did you do?

“We’ll kill him that much quicker and you'll still get to hear every second of it! Lucky you. Doesn't that sound fun?”

“What are you doing to him?! Let me talk to him! Let me hear him, please, please!”

A pause.

“Dar…” Ponyboy started. And Darry broke.

“Ponyboy?!” His voice was horrifying even to him. So sad and broken and scared. “Oh, Ponybaby, what were you thinking?! You weren't, were you? I—oh, darlin’, I'm coming, I promise, I won't leave you alone, little colt—”

“No! No, Darry, no! Don't come after me!” Ponyboy screamed. “They know where we live! Lock the door! You have to keep Soda safe!”

What? Not go rescue his boy, his brother, his baby? How could he ever consider such a thing?

And Soda, sweet Soda, who Ponyboy didn't know wasn't at home. What would this do to him?

“He's—they’re hurting you, angel,” Darry sobbed. Why did he have to spell this out? Of course Darry would try to help his brother who was in pain. “You could die there, and oh, sweetheart, I'll be damned if I let my brother die when I could have saved him—”

“Better me than Soda or you!”

Darry felt his heart splinter. He can't mean that. He can't mean that.

He almost let out a cry of horrified despair before cutting it short. “Baby, I'm coming. I've got you. I'm not going to stop until I have you in my arms again.”

“Fine then, Dar,” Ponyboy sobbed. “You won't hear me again at all unless you promise me you'll never do something so dumb as go after me.”

What?!

Does he mean…

Will he just refuse to say anything, or—

Would he rather die than be rescued?

“How could I? How could I promise that, love? I'm always going to come for you. Always, that's what brothers do.”

“No! Darry, you don't understand! You can't come after me, they'll get Soda again if you do! Please, please, promise me! Please!”

Ponyboy had never sounded so scared, like if he dared keep the words in, the world would end right then and there. And it ruined Darry.

A promise can always be broken.

“All right, little colt. I promise.”

The furious grunting and sudden click told Darry all he needed to know.

His baby. His sweet baby who would rather die in pain than risk anybody else getting hurt.

And now he had just promised —a breakable promise, but he'd promised— that he would leave Pony in his kidnapper's clutches.

What kind of a brother was he?

A wail, a broken, keening scream of rage and grief, ripped out of him before he could stop it. It tapered off into sobs, broken gasps and cries that he'd never sounded like. The tears dripped down onto the counter, tears he hadn't realized were streaming down his face.

A strong hand landed in between his shoulder blades and just rested. He felt himself being pulled into an embrace, his head pressed into someone's shoulder.

“What happened, Dar?” Two-Bit gently whispered from beside his head.

“Ain't never heard you sound like that,” Steve said, sniffling. “Was it… was it Soda?”

“No, it's-it—” Darry sobbed again, trying to wrap his arms around Two-Bit. “P—It’s Pony… he-he’s gone and-and—”

“And we'll find him, Darry,” Two-Bit tried to reassure him, pulling his head up and looking him in the eye. “We will find him. You have not lost both of your brothers today.”

“No—Keith—he-he—he’s switched himself for Soda! They've got him, and-and he made me swear not to go after him!”

“He's what?!” Two-Bit no longer sounded reassuring. His fear was in full force. “Why would he do that?”

“God, you don't mean…” Steve gasped, and Darry saw just how much he cared behind his mask of sarcasm and annoyance. “He gave himself up for Soda?”

Darry nodded, unable to make a sound that wasn't uncontrollably grieving.

And then their little grief circle was broken by the phone's ringing. Steve stood to answer it, but quickly held it out for Darry. “It's the hospital.”

“Hello?” Darry somehow managed to keep his voice from breaking.

“Is this the emergency contact of Sodapop Curtis?”

Chapter Text

Voices. Screaming, shouting all around him. He was pressed under the weight of the heavy water in his head.

He must have blacked out in between the ride and the voices.

But who had brought him in their car?

The kidnapper. With the red hair.

Joey, that was his name.

“Why—” he croaked out. “Wha-what are you doing?”

“The right thing,” Joey said, though he didn't sound happy. “I got you to the hospital.”

“Th-thanks,” Soda mumbled, before closing his eyes again.

Next thing he knew he was being wheeled into the hospital on a stretcher, medics surrounding him.

“Can you tell me your name, sir?” one of the nurses asked him gently. “And if there's anyone we should call for you?”

“S-Sodapop Curtis,” he breathed. “My brother Darry—call him—”

The nurse wrote the number down on a little slip of paper and ran to give it to the receptionist.

Water. Heavy water. Muffling the shouting around him.

“Get him to the OR!”

And then—nothing.

A pressure on his hand, rough, warm and comforting, brought his consciousness back.

He pulled his heavy eyelids open, only to be met with a beige ceiling. The walls were slightly off-white, and there was a huge young man sitting in the chair beside him. The man was holding his hand, slumped over in sleep but looking like he would never let go.

“Darry?” he croaked, his voice dry and crackly from lack of use. Darry’s voice snapped up so fast Soda momentarily worried he'd get whiplash. “Wha’ happened?”

Soda swore he saw Darry’s eyes fill with tears. “Oh, thank God, you're awake.” Darry leaned forward and gently wrapped him in his arms. “Oh, little buddy, I thought I'd lost you…”

“Where’s—where’s Pony?” It hurt him so much to ask it—like Darry wasn't enough. But he would understand. How he needed Pony too.

But at this, Darry got a look on his face like someone had just ripped out his heart. Soda filled with dread as Darry started to weep. He didn't have the imagination Pony did, but his mind buzzed with everything that could be wrong.

“Oh, Soda, he—he turned himself over to them—to them—to save you…”

No.

No, good God, no.

He couldn't have, he just couldn't have! Didn't he know what that would do to them?

Soda fell back against the pillows, barely feeling the broken tears streaming down his face.

With one last thought he let the heavy nothingness of the water drown him again.

Oh, why, honey? Why?

Chapter Text

Two-Bit thought nothing could be worse than when Sodapop went missing. Seeing Darry screaming desperately into the phone, seeing Ponyboy sobbing in Darry’s arms, seeing Steve’s blatant terror as they searched for his dearest friend.

But then Ponyboy disappeared.

And Two-Bit knew then that things could always be worse.

Because if Sodapop was the heart of the gang, the glue, Ponyboy was the baby, the darling, everyone’s little brother. He always had been, always would be, even though he was now reaching Darry’s height. If Two-Bit had to guess, Pony would be taller than Darry, but would stay gangly forever.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been so surprised. Pony was so self-sacrificing, it would be almost harder to believe it if he hadn’t tried to take Soda’s place. That didn’t make the pain any less, though. Poor Pony, who had been through so much already in his fifteen years.

But did he have any idea just how much worse he’d made it? They didn’t blame him, of course; it wasn’t like he tried to get Soda kidnapped, so it only made sense that he thought he had no choice.

But now Steve was inconsolable, Darry was ready to fall to the floor and die of grief, Soda was in the OR again.

“Oh, Soda, he—he turned himself over to them—to them—to save you…”

Soda fell back against the pillows, broken tears leaking from his closed eyes. His chest settled, his breath slowed.

The heart machine began to blare.

“Soda?! Soda, baby, stay with me, please, please!” Darry wailed, clinging to Soda’s hand, his arm, his shoulders, shaking him. “Pepsi, honey, please! I can’t do this without you…”

Something was very wrong.

Where the jagged spikes of Sodapop Curtis’s heart rate had once shown was now only a flat, simple line.

Steve dashed over, cupping Soda’s face, shaking it, pressing his forehead to Soda’s, letting out a wild, broken shriek. “NOOOO! SODA, NO!”

Darry’s head fell into the blankets and Two-Bit felt his heart was breaking, as he watched his best friend sobbing over his little brother.

“Prep an OR stat!” the doctor rushing in barked out at a nearby nurse. He gestured with his head to Darry and Two-Bit ran to him and Steve, gently pulling them back. Both tried hard to get out, screaming for Soda, but Two-Bit held on as tight as he could.

“Hey! They’re doing surgery on him again. He can survive this! We’ll get our Sodacan back!”

We’ll get our Soda back.

We have to.

“Dar?” Two-Bit asked, hoping Darry wouldn’t meet his eyes. He did anyway.

“I think I need to go back to the house, call your work, call the DX, get you guys food, you know.” Wait for news of Ponyboy. Anything to be useful.

It seemed to have to sink in for Darry, but he slowly nodded. “Yeah. You do that. I’ll update you when you get here if there’s anything new.”

The house was quiet, far too quiet for a home of such life and love bursting out of it. Of the Curtis parents, warm, gentle, fun-loving, of seven boys who loved each other close as brothers. Two-bit swallowed down sobs as he came over to the phone and called the Shaughnessy Construction Company.

“Joe Shaughnessy, how can I help you?”

“Hello, this is Keith Mathews, I’m calling on behalf of Darrel Curtis—”

“Oh, Darrel! Is he all right? It’s so unlike him not to show up to work…”

“Yes, he’s going to be occupied with a family emergency for an indefinite amount of time… we don’t know when he can go back to work.”

The boss’s voice suddenly dropped. “Oh my god… what happened? Is he hurt?”

“Worse,” Two-Bit sighed. “It’s his brothers. Sodapop was kidnapped—”

“WHAT?!”

“Let me finish, we aren’t even done—and Ponyboy turned himself over to them to take his place. Soda’s in the hospital right now, but he flatlined—” Two-Bit’s breath hitched—“he flatlined when he learned what happened to Pony, and he just got brought in to surgery again.”

“Oh my god!” Mr Shaughnessy gasped. “Oh, poor Darrel… to have to go through all that on top of everything else… Is there anything I can do for y’all?”

Two-Bit sniffled. “I don’t think so… the hospital bills are going to be a problem, but—”

“Hold on, don’t tell Darrel this. I’ve been adding money to his medical insurance paycheck by paycheck. We have a secret fund at the company for that. If the bill is still too much, you just call me and let me know. But you didn’t hear that.”

“Didn’t hear what?”

“Good job. Please, let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”