Disclaimer: The Outsiders is owned by S.E. Hinton I own nothing.
…
(General POV)
"Ponyboy," the young greaser heard his older brother call out to him, "there's a letter here for you."
Excitedly jumping out of his seat, Ponyboy ran out of his room, sprinting into living room, and practically snatching the letter out of his brother's hands.
"You're welcome," Sodapop scoffed rolling his eyes playfully, "honestly, kids these days have no manners."
Ponyboy chuckled and checked the address of the letter. The young greaser was shocked to see that it wasn't from Johnny.
"Dally?" Ponyboy raised an eyebrow in question. He didn't think he'd be hearing anything from that hood again.
"Winston?" Sodapop took the letter out of his brother's hands and went to inspect it himself.
"Come on Soda stop," Ponyboy protested reaching up to grab his letter back but was unsuccessful seeing as he was shorter than Sodapop.
"Why is
he sending you mail?" Sodapop demanded to know waving around the letter in his hand dramatically.
"I don't know," Ponyboy answered with a shrug still trying to reach the letter, "maybe he wants to tell me something."
Successfully taking back his letter, Ponyboy ripped open the envelope and took out the letter inside.
"Well, read it," Sodapop urged.
Dear Ponyboy,
I don't usually do this so you better feel special.
I'm writing just to check up on your dumbass just
to see if your still fucking up. Wild Dog ain't been
giving you trouble has he? Just call me up and I'll
set him straight. I guess this would be the part where
I ask you about your brothers but I don't really care.
Sincer or whatever the fuck that word is
Dallas Fucking Winston
"Aw, that was so sweet," Ponyboy smiled contently at the letter.
It felt good to hear from Dally, even though not much time has passed, the young greaser did worry about his ex-boyfriend and wonder how he was doing.
"It was?" Sodapop looked over the letter as if trying to find the 'sweet' part of it, "I don't see where you got sweet out of this."
"It's the fact that he bothered to check up on me," Ponyboy informed his brother, "guys like Dally never do things unless they really want to, so I'm happy he put in the effort to do something like this."
"Whatever," Sodapop rolled his eyes flopping down on the couch, "as long as you don't get back with him."
Ponyboy waved off his brother's worry.
"Don't be silly Soda, I already…"
The young greaser caught himself before he could finish that sentence, but unfortunately for him, he didn't stop quickly enough.
"What did you say?" Sodapop narrowed his eyes in suspicion at his young brother.
"N-Nothing," Ponyboy responded gulping inaudibly, "don't worry about it."
The greaser tried to discreetly walk past the couch and out of the living room, but was stopped by his older brother grabbing him and making him sit on the couch beside him.
"Of course I'm going to worry about it little brother," Sodapop replied sweetly with an underling of menace in his voice, "now just tell your big brother what you were about to say and I'll promise I'll get mad."
"Aren't you supposed to promise that you won't get mad?" Ponyboy questioned.
"No, I promise I will get mad," Sodapop corrected his eyes piercing his little brothers face, "because you decided to hide it from me."
Ponyboy sighed to himself worriedly, wondering what his next move should be.
"I'm guessing it has something to do with an annoying curly haired greaser doesn't it?" Sodapop asked already knowing the answer.
"Maybe," Ponyboy mumbled lowly staring down at his feet.
"Please tell me you're not dating," Sodapop pleading begging with his eyes.
The young greaser really didn't know what to do. He really didn't want to cause any problems, but at the same time he didn't think it would be smart to lie about his relationship with Curly either.
"Um, we're not dating?" Ponyboy shot a grin at his brother trying to make this situation seem playful and fun.
Unfortunately, this didn't happen.
"Good grief Ponyboy," Sodapop groaned looking up at the ceiling in exasperation.
"Soda, please don't make a big deal out of this," Ponyboy begged.
"Why him of all people?" Sodapop moaned ignoring his brother's words, "I don't want to keep seeing that little brat."
"He's not that bad," Ponyboy protested quickly starting to get insulted at his brothers attitude toward his boyfriend.
"Uh, yeah he is," Sodapop nodded giving his brother a contradictory look.
"Oh really?" Ponyboy folded his arms in challenge, "then I dare you to name some bad things about him."
Sodapop snorted and started counting all of Curly's negative qualities with his fingers.
"He's annoying, he's smug, he's impulsive, he's always trying to start fights with people, he lies, he steals, he's rude, he carries weapons, he's mean, he's…"
"Okay, enough," Ponyboy cried in frustration, "see Soda that's your problem, your always looking at the bad parts of people."
"You just told me too…"
"Nobody's perfect Soda," Ponyboy protested talking over his brother, "and you need to realize that."
"Oh believe me, I know he's not perfect," Sodapop grunted.
Ponyboy moved and hugged his brother middle gazing up at him pleadingly.
"Please just give him a chance," Ponyboy asked, "he really is a sweet guy once you get past all the roughness, you just have to catch him at the right moment."
The young greaser, seeing that his brother looked to be letting up slightly, turned his puppy dog pout on full blast. This quickly resulted in Sodapop complying with this little brothers demands, albeit reluctantly.
"Fine," Sodapop sighed, "I'll give him a chance, but that brat better doing something to win me over."
Ponyboy nodded smiling in relief at his brother agreement.
Just then, the door swung open revealing the eldest Curtis brother.
"I'm home," Darry walked in a little slower seeing both of his brothers sitting on the couch together quietly.
"What are you two doing?" Darry demanded never liking it when these have quiet moments (it never was a signal of anything good happening).
Sodapop gazed over at his brother and gave him a smug look.
"Let's see you try and convince Darry," Sodapop grinned in anticipation.
Ponyboy groaned and started to rub his own forehead in frustration.
This was going to take a while.
…
It was pretty normal at the Shepard residence. There was an abundance of messes on the floors upstairs, the kitchen needed cleaning downstairs, and the television was nonexistent because they destroyed it.
"Where the hell is it?" Curly demanded glaring at his sister angrily as he stood in the doorway of her room.
Angela looked up from the magazine she was reading to roll her eyes at her brother.
"I told you a thousand times, I don't know," Angela replied speaking as if Curly was mentally challenged.
"And I told you, that's a bunch of bullshit," Curly retorted sharply, "I saw you in my room the other day, I know you have it."
"Exactly what 'it' are you talking about Curly?" Angela sighed sitting up from her bed to confront her brother, "because there are a lot of 'it's' in your room, some of them are alive which is why I never touch anything in your room."
"You know what I'm talking about," Curly pointed at her, "it was a big white box under my bed next to my football uniform."
"Football uniform?" Angela furrowed her brow in confusion, "Why do have a football uniform under your bed?"
"Because it wouldn't fit in my closet," Curly told her as if it was obvious.
"That's not what I was…"
"Shut up," Curly snapped, "and tell me where my box is!"
"I don't know where your damn box is," Angela huffed. Having had enough of this nonsense, pushed her brother out of her room and locked the door shut.
"Get out here," Curly started banging on the door loudly, "give me back my box."
"You mean that big white box that was in your room?"
Curly turned around to see his mother, Pamela Shepard, standing a little ways behind him. She so tired that she seemed to be able to stay on her feet.
Must be hard not having a job and partying all night, Curly thought to himself bitterly.
"Do you know where it is?" Curly asked looking for a surprise response and not the one he knew was coming.
"I took it," Pamela told her son simply.
Curly had to stop himself from letting out a sigh of frustration.
He was afraid of that.
"What did you do with it?" Curly questioned not trying to sound to upset, mostly because he didn't want his father to hear his yelling and start some type of fight.
"I, uh, well," Pamela started yawning repeatedly through her speech, annoying Curly to no end, "I don't really remember."
"What?" Curly grinded out.
"A couple hours ago I know I needed a big box to hold something up but I didn't have anything so I searched all your rooms and found that box," Pamela explained.
"You went in all our rooms and took things without asking?" Curly reiterated slowly.
"Sure, why not?" Pamela shrugged carelessly.
Fist clenched at his sides, Curly had to psychically stop himself from doing something he might regret.
"Do you at least know what you did with the box afterwards?" Curly asked trying to be as polite as possible.
"Threw it out I guess," Pamela told her son walking passed her son and to her room, "it's not like I needed it anymore."
With a mighty growl, Curly punched the wall next to him, leaving a dent, before storming off to his room.
"No privacy, no respect, no trust," Curly started mumbling to himself incoherently. However, since he wasn't paying attention, he didn't notice something go flying at his head hitting him dead on.
"Ow fuck," Curly hissed looking down he saw it and saw it was his white box. Looking over at his door he saw his elder brother staring him blankly.
"It was in the backyard," Tim answered folding his arms looking bored.
"Hm," Curly nodded in thanks. Peaking his head in the box, he was relieved to see that there was nothing wrong with its contents before shutting it and sliding the box back under his bed.
"I wonder whatever that is could be for?" Tim asked sarcastically, "that wouldn't be for the Curtis kid would it?"
Curly rolled his eyes and choose not to answer the question, choose to flop down on his bed tiredly. Curly closed his eyes, assuming that his brother would leave on his own, but snapped his eyes open to see Tim was staring at him blankly.
"What?" Curly raised an eyebrow at his brother.
"Why do you always put that kid first?" Tim asked finally.
The young hood gave his older brother a confused looking, silently asking him to clarify.
"You always do and say mushy
romantic," Tim had sick look on his face at that last word, "things for him for no reason."
"It's not for no reason," Curly retorted, "it's just to show that he's, you know, different than everyone else."
"You have to show your little boyfriend that?" Tim raised an eyebrow in question, "Doesn't all the protecting you do for him enough?"
Curly fought off his feint blush opting to glare at his older brother.
"I'm just having his back," Curly argued, "that's what people close to each other do, have each other's backs. Fight for them, help them out, and not snitching on them."
Tim discreetly flinched at that last one.
"This is a tough neighborhood and we have to look after each other," Curly shrugged before falling back onto his bed, "we're all we've got."
This left Tim to close the door behind himself silently. As he walked the hall of his house, he couldn't help but think of his past actions.
Did I do the wrong thing, Tim question to himself.
…
Right now, it was pretty solemn in the Curtis house. The regular bustle seemed to have toned down to some very small movements within the house.
Today was an unforgettable day for the Curtis brothers.
"Why do I have to work today of all days?" Sodapop groaned to himself as he properly buttoned up his work uniform.
"Because out boss is a dick," Steve answered bluntly sitting next to Two-Bit on the couch, "you know he wouldn't give anyone a day off."
"Yeah, I know," Sodapop nodded going to spruce himself up in the bathroom mirror just as Darry walked into the living room.
"Darry," Two-Bit called out although a little more subdued than normal, "how's it going working man?"
"Got to pay the bills," Darry told his friend with a sigh as he quickly made himself a lunch and stuffed it into his lunch box.
Two-Bit nodded in understanding. The regularly joking greaser looked over at the hall entrance and was unsurprised to not hearing Ponyboy coming around the corner.
"The kids not going to school today?" Steve asked speaking the question that was on Two-Bit's lips.
Darry stopped for a brief second to briefly looked back at the hall before turning his head away, a somewhat sadden look on his face.
"He's staying home today," Darry told them his eyes steeling themselves, "he's not feeling to well right now."
That was an obvious lie but neither Steve nor Two-Bit called the older greaser out on it, they knew exactly why Ponyboy was staying home today.
Sodapop came out of the bathroom and slipped on his hat.
"You ready?" Steve asked standing up off the couch.
"Give me a second," Sodapop urged running to Ponyboy's room.
Two-Bit took the time to stand up to, stretching tiredly.
"Getting tired old man?" Steve smirked hitting the jokester in his chest playfully.
"Tired?" Two-Bit waved him off, "What do you young whipper snappers don't know the meaning of the word tired?"
Darry snorted before walking out of the house and to work.
"Alright," Sodapop announced as he came back from saying goodbye to his brother, "I'm ready."
"Let's head out," Two-Bit announced dramatically, "and explore this wild and crazy plain we call life."
"Shut up," Steve rolled his eyes in annoyance following his friend out the door.
Sodapop let out a small smile, the first one he's had this morning. Taking one last worried glance at the hall, Sodapop shut the door behind himself quietly.
Meanwhile, in Ponyboy's room, was a sad sight to behold. Our young greaser was curled up in a ball under his covers. Not a sound was made inside of the room giving it an eerily, strange feel to it.
Ponyboy was not asleep though, he was wide awake (to his chagrin). Despite his best efforts the young greaser does not want to be up, he just wants to sleep the day away and not be forced to relieve the events of today.
Ponyboy sighed to himself heavily trying to will himself to go back to sleep.
Mom, Dad...
Their faces kept appearing in head over and over again. This always happened to him today, the day of his parent's deaths. He can never shake them from his mind no matter how hard Ponyboy tries.
"I hate this," Ponyboy whispered to himself bitterly as memories of his parents continued to flow through his mind.
Just then, Ponyboy heard the door to his room open.
"Soda, you have to go to work today," Ponyboy groaned through his covers thinking that his brother was checking up with him again.
The young greaser heard nothing in response, which is strange for his older brother.
"Soda," Ponyboy called out pulling the covers from over himself just in time to get pounced on by a certain someone.
"Curly?" Ponyboy shrieked his voice going up higher than it usually does due to the shock.
"What's happening babe?" Curly smirked down at his boyfriend as Ponyboy stared up at him curiously.
"Wh-What are you doing here?" Ponyboy questioned as he let Curly know earlier that today was not a good day for him to hangout.
"I'm insulted babe," Curly held his hand to his heart mockingly, "did you really think I would forget about today."
"Huh?" Ponyboy blinked up at his boyfriend in surprise.
Surely he couldn't mean…
"I got you something," Curly announced going into the hallway briefly.
Ponyboy sat up from his bed, the covers pooling around his body.
The young greaser eyebrows furrowed as his boyfriend came back into the room with a large white box. With a sigh, Curly sat down next to Ponyboy and slide the box into his hands.
"Curly what is this?" Ponyboy eyeing the box.
"Open it and see," Curly told him gesturing to the box.
With a shrug, Ponyboy slowly opened up the box revealing its contents.
They were flowers. A particular set of flowers that Ponyboy had memorized in the last couple years.
"Hydrangeas?" Ponyboy looked over at his boyfriend in shock.
"I know you and your brothers usually go up and put down some flowers for your parents around this time," Curly shrugged, "so I thought I'd save you the trouble and steal you some of the good ones. I watered them a little bit, it was hell finding a pot, but I had to keep them under by bed most of the time."
"You remembered the day my parents died," Ponyboy shook his head in delight, "and you even remembered my mom's favorite flowers."
Curly just grunted and looked away trying to avoid any awkward moments.
"Curly," Ponyboy breathed fondly before developing him in a fierce hug, "thank you so much."
"I didn't do this for thanks," Curly mumbled wrapping his arms around his boyfriend nonetheless.
"You deserve it," Ponyboy argued kissing on the lips.
Curly returned the kiss letting theirs mouth move together slowly. Knowing that the young greaser wasn't in the mood for anything more, he didn't push Ponyboy any further than what they were doing.
Breaking the kiss, Ponyboy took this time to examine the flowers give to him. Tears started developing in his eyes at the thought of his mother and all the time she spent with her hydrangeas in her garden.
Wordlessly, Curly developed Ponyboy into a hug, wrapping his arms around him tightly.
"I miss them," Ponyboy whispered into his boyfriends shoulder tearfully, "I miss them so much."
"It's gonna be alright," Curly promised, "You're going to be alright."
For the first time today, Ponyboy was able to smile. He felt happy, happy to have someone to hold him right now. Right now, he could think of something other than his parent's death at the moment as he stared at the flowers he was holding.
Wait until I tell Soda about this.
…
