Chapter Text
It had been a month since Ponyboy’s last seizure. The doctor chalked it up to be the result of a combination of exhaustion and stress. Although Darry didn’t buy it. Yeah, Ponyboy had been having a hard time falling asleep recently, but he had been struggling with that for months, and nothing as serious as a seizure had occurred. Darry had been adamant about that with the doctor, who in turn blamed it on track and school instead. Said it must be tiring him out and it must be too much for him at the moment. But, school had never been a problem for Pony. Throw in the tragedy Ponyboy just faced with the loss of Johnny and Dally, and the doctor said it made sense for something like this to happen. Claimed it was like a volcano, just waiting to burst. It just didn’t add up in Darry’s head. Pony never had problems with balancing track and school. Did losing Johnny and Dally just hit him harder than Darry had thought? Was he really struggling that bad and Darry hadn’t noticed? His mind raced with endless possibilities of ways he had failed Ponyboy as he poured uncooked pasta into the boiling water on the stove top. He checked his watch. Soda was due home any minute now. Ponyboy hadn’t been much company since he’d come home from school. He barely said hello to Darry before he was rushing to his room, claiming he had homework to get done. Darry hadn’t questioned him about it.
“Pasta again? Glory, am I gettin’ tired of that,” a voice piped up behind Darry, nearly scaring him out of his wits. He’d been too lost in his thoughts to hear Soda come in.
“Damnit Soda,” Darry mumbled, irritated with the fact Soda had snuck up on him coupled with the fact he had the audacity to complain about dinner. He spared a glance behind him, watching as Soda stripped himself of his work uniform, laying it across the back of one of the kitchen chairs.
“Where’s Pony?” Soda asked, running a hand through his hair. Darry motioned towards their bedroom with his head as he stirred the pasta.
“Said he’s workin’ on homework. Must’ve been mighty excited about it, he rushed straight there once he came home. Didn’t say hi to me or nothin’,” Darry said, huffing to himself.
“Man, that brain of his…,” Soda rambled. Darry continued to mindlessly stir the pasta.
“Has he seemed off to you recently?” Darry blurted out before he could stop himself. Soda turned towards Darry and stared at him for a second, taking him in. Did he seem tense? Soda shrugged.
“I don’t know, he always seems off these days. He’s been acting fine recently, as far as I can tell. Why? Does he seem off to you? Is there something you know that I don’t?” Soda said, crossing him arms over his chest. Darry turned his back to the stove and faced Soda. Soda stared Darry down, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.
“No, no, I just got to thinkin’. A dangerous past time, I know. It’s just… ever since his… seizure, I’ve just had a bad feelin’. I just don’t know if I trust what the doctor said about him bein’ worn out and all. Just doesn’t seem like Pony,” Darry said, mirroring Soda’s body language, crossing his arms as well as he leaned against the stove.
“He’s fine, Dar. I would notice if something was up with him. Plus, who are you to say the doc was wrong about Pony? He’s the professional, after all,” Soda said, a slight edge to his voice as he finished. Darry cocked his head at the attitude displayed.
“Hey, watch your tone,” Darry warned. “Listen, I was just sayin’, Soda. I’m just worried about the kid, and I was just feelin’ unsure about the doctor’s words. Just feel like it’s more than that,” Darry huffed, turning back around to take the pasta off the heat.
“Like you’d know,” Soda scoffed, turning to make his way to the bathroom. Darry froze and set the pot he was holding back down, a little harder than necessary.
“What was that?” Darry said, hands remaining on the handles of the pot as he eyed the contents.
“I said, like you’d know. You never even pay attention to Pony,” Soda said, rubbing a hand over his face. The bags under his eyes were evident. Sadly, Pony not being able to sleep also meant Soda not being able to sleep.
“Where the hell is this comin’ from? I do pay attention to Pony, Soda. I’m just busy, I’ve got work, I’ve got shit to do,” Darry implied, turning to look at Soda, eyes boring into his soul. Soda spared a glance at Darry. He was really testing the waters tonight.
“We all got shit to do, Darry,” Soda said, resuming his walk to the bathroom. He couldn’t handle this conversation anymore. He just wanted to shower, get some food in him, and then go to sleep. It had been a long day.
“Damnit, I’m tryin’ my best here, Soda, you know that,” Darry said. He resumed his task of taking the pot off the heat and draining the pasta.
“Mhm. Funny that you claim you’re tryin’ your best all the time when you ain’t even home half the time,” Soda exclaimed, immediately regretting the words that left his mouth. He knew Darry was trying his best, hell he went above and beyond for them. There was no excuse for what Soda had just said. He’d had a shitty day, and sadly, Darry was just a victim of his frustration. He inwardly cursed himself and anticipated Darry’s response. He was met with silence. The sound of the spaghetti sauce jar being popped open echoed through Soda’s body.
“Shit, Dar-,” Soda started, but was cut off.
“Dinner’s ready, go get Pony,” Darry said, putting an end to the conversation. Soda took a deep breath as he stood in the living room. He’d really messed up.
A few days went by, the environment of the Curtis household tense. Ponyboy noticed a change immediately a few nights ago at dinner between Soda and Darry, but he didn’t say anything. Thought maybe they both just had bad days. Then a few days went by, Soda and Darry still avoiding one another. Ponyboy had tried questioning Soda about it that night, but Soda just shrugged him off, claimed Pony was just seeing things.
“Seein’ things, my ass,” Pony had mumbled, turning out the lights to go to bed. Another restless night, he was sure. Something was definitely up between Soda and Darry, Pony just couldn’t figure out what. A sharp pain shot through his head as he lay it on his pillow, curtesy of his headache of 4 going on 5 days. All these headaches were really starting to get on Ponyboy’s nerves, there was only so much aspirin one could take. He hadn’t mentioned anything to Soda or Darry due to the tension in the house. He figured it was just a migraine, his coach had been working them harder than usual at their practices. He was on the brink of sleep when a wave of nausea hit him. He moaned softly as he curled in on himself. Not tonight, not tonight, please, he begged to himself. It only grew worse as he lay there. His body decided it couldn’t take it anymore and suddenly he was on his feet, tearing out of the bedroom and to the bathroom. He emptied the entire contents of his stomach into the toilet. Yes, this is exactly how he wanted to be spending his night, expelling his entire dinner into the john.
“Shit, Pony, are you okay?” a hushed voice was heard from the doorway. He felt a hand on his back, rubbing back and forth in soothing motions. Darry, his mind supplied. Man, he hated Darry seeing him like this.
“I’m sorry, Darry. Did I wake you?” Pony mumbled, choking on a gag as his stomach rebelled against him once again. Soda must have been dead to the world to not hear Pony barreling out of bed and out the door. Good, Pony thought. He deserved to get some sleep.
“Nah, I was still up. Couldn’t sleep. When did you start feelin’ sick, Pone?” Darry asked, popping a squat next to Pony on the floor of the bathroom. Done for now, Pony moved away from the toilet and leaned against the bathtub.
“Just hit me all of a sudden,” Pony said, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, the air conditioning from the air vent hitting his face just right. Man, his head was killing him.
“I’m sorry, little buddy. You think you’re done for now? You wanna set up camp on the couch with me?” Darry asked, concern lining his features. Taking a deep breath, Pony nodded. Anywhere but the bathroom floor sounded great. Darry helped hike him up off the floor, hands firmly on Pony’s shoulders as he guided him to the living room, setting him on the couch. Reaching for the blanket on the back of the couch, Darry sat down next to Pony. He tossed the blanket over Pony, fixing it so it was fully covering his body. Pony scooted closer to Darry, curling up into his side. Darry froze, momentarily unsure of what to do with himself. He wasn’t used to this kind of affection when it came to Ponyboy. Shaking himself out of his daze, he wrapped his arm around Pony, pulling him closer, if even possible. Pony hummed softly before speaking.
“Dar, what’s goin’ on with you and Soda?” he said, knowing full well he had Darry trapped. Darry rubbed his hand up and down Pony’s arm.
“It’s nothin’ Pony, nothin’ you need to worry about. Just a little brother’s quarrel. We’ll figure it out,” he assured Pony. Pony wasn’t satisfied with that answer.
“Yeah, but what happened? It’s been days and you guys haven’t said a word to each other,” Pony stated. Darry sighed.
“We both just said stuff we shouldn’t have, that’s all. We’ll figure it out.” All the fight was gone in his voice. Darry was tired. Physically and emotionally. He hated fighting with his brothers. It didn’t help that they were all stubborn as hell. Pony tensed up underneath Darry’s arm.
“You feelin’ any better, Pone?” Darry asked, changing the subject while he was ahead. Pony didn’t answer. Assuming Pony was starting to fall asleep, Darry situated himself into a semi-comfortable position. He was going to regret this sleeping arrangement in the morning. As he finished getting situated, he was startled by a sudden jerking movement from Pony.
“Shoot, I’m sorry, Pony, did I kick you?” Darry whispered. Pony didn’t answer once again. Darry lifted the hand that was not around Pony and snaked it through the kid’s hair. Pony was trembling. Shit, he hoped the kid didn’t have a fever.
“Pone, are you awake, baby?” Darry asked, leaning forward slightly to see the kid’s face. His eyes were open, glazed over and staring straight ahead. His head moved to Pony’s forehead, feeling for any warmth. He felt normal. Pony jerked again, this time his arm that was resting on Darry.
“Pony, are you okay? What’s up? You cold?” Darry asked, unsure of what was going on with his brother. Not wanting to disturb his brother too much, he tried his best to get himself situated to where he could see the kid’s face. The jerking only worsened, affecting both Pony’s arms and legs now. Darry tightened his hold around Pony.
“Hey, hey, woah, alright, what’s going on? Alright, alright,” Darry said, trying to remain calm. He needed to get out from under Pony, the kid was freaking out. What was going on? Why was he moving around so much? Not soon after Darry finished that thought, Pony’s jerking turned into convulsions. Darry’s heart skipped a beat, and his mind went blank. Frantically moving himself out from under Pony, he crashed to his knees beside the couch, Pony’s head in his hand.
“Shit. Pony?! Baby? Shit, shit, okay, okay,” Darry rambled, at a loss for words. Pony’s eyes were rolled back in his head and the noises that were emanating from him just about broke Darry.
“Okay, okay, I got you, I got you,” Darry reassured Pony, adjusting his hold on Pony’s head. He rose to his feet, making sure to keep Pony on his side the best he could so he didn’t choke. He called for Soda, hoping he could wake the heavy sleeper. Darry was panicking. He had known something was up with Pony, he fucking knew. This wasn’t just exhaustion and stress. Something was wrong with his kid brother, and that terrified Darry. Footsteps could be heard, and Soda appeared in the doorway of his and Pony’s shared bedroom.
“Darry? What’s - …,” Soda froze, taking in the sight before him. The air was knocked out of him and he held onto the wall to steady himself. His baby brother was in the throes of another seizure, and suddenly Soda was back to that day, a month ago. Shit, Darry had been right.