thinking about there being a tension in the curtis house that’s been building for a few days and over dinner one night grouchily pony says “jesus darrel it’s like you hate us or something” and darry, who is so completely not here here bc he’s trying not to holler or do something he’ll regret, accidentally says “god if only” in the most wistful tone that has both his brothers snapping their necks to look at him
and soda, in a low voice that sounds like it’s taking everything in him to not panic, asks “what does that mean?”
eyes widening darry forces a laugh out and a fake smile that hardly reaches his cheeks let alone his eyes. “i didn’t mean to say that”
ponyboy waits, “but you did, so.” his voice is steady in the way that only a fresh teenagers could be; ready to be angry, better yet, ready to force his actual feelings down because it’ll be easier to hit and holler than feel upset. “what the heck does that mean”
there’s no escaping. he knows this, which might be part of why darry huffs through his nose and leans back in his chair. they’re silent for a moment as darry looks around; soda’s looking down at his plate, obviously having lost his appetite. the clock says it’s 6:36 pm, a later dinner than usual but eating dinner as a family isn’t a tradition that’s supposed to go away anytime soon. ponyboy’s doing his best to stare darry down, but darry knows his baby brother well enough to know that the kid’s staring into space in an ill attempt to not feel anything.
unfortunately, he’s done the same thing too many times to be able to do it again tonight. “i’m not saying i do hate yall, i just think it’d be easier if i did.” and he probably shouldn’t add the next part, but it’s only fair to be honest. “at least that way i wouldn’t be working myself into a stupor for feeling guilty.”
“what are you guilty of?” soda asks in that same melancholy tone he’s been harboring all week.
darry doesn’t want to admit this, but he’s been having these dreams where he’s still in school and the boys aren’t anything more than an afterthought. if he’s truthful those are one of his favorite dreams because it’s the only time he ever wakes up with a smile.
but then, once he gets out the bed and starts getting ready for the day, reality sets in and he’s quickly disappointed. and then he gets those chest stabs that always come along with guilty feelings.
all because he felt disappointed. because shouldn’t he be waking up with a smile everyday since his brothers aren’t living in a foster home with random strangers? shouldn’t he be happy that he got to keep his brothers even if he had threw all his goals away? even if he did “throw it all away” he’s got them and that ought to count for something right?
“it’s not fair,” he ends. “it’d be a lot easier if i did hate yall because id be able to just walk away, guilt free. but that’s never gonna happen,” he adds. darry’s started collecting their plates before he catches sight of ponyboys quivering lip and the shininess of sodapops eyes. “because i don’t hate yall. i love you. both of you. and that ain’t never gonna change no matter how much i wish it on a bad day, hear?”
he feels that guilt creeping up again when pony gives him a look that he hasn’t seen since the kid was five years old and darry shoved him away to go play with the big kids. his eyes are all squinty and his mouth is frowned and he’s taking shallow breaths like it’s all he can do to keep from sobbing. “you promise?”
a quick glance tells him soda ain’t fairing no better. he’s got his head laid on the table, not even bothering to wipe the tears cascading down his face.
darry sighs and leaves the table to put the plates in the sink. turning the tap on he says, “you know, when you were born soda cried his eyes out.”
“mhm. that christmas, he made me write santa asking to exchange you for a real pony.”
he can hear pony’s wet gasp and the distinct sound of someone’s chair getting kicked. “soda!”
it takes everything in him not to laugh yet as he scrubs the plates. “yeah, he told mama he hated you and wasn’t gonna love you unless you became a real pony.”
“darry, you said you wouldn’t tell him-“
“it’s alright though,” he says when he turns around and sees the crestfallen look on ponyboy’s face. “cause i said the same thing when soda was born.”
“you did?” they ask at the same time.
“yeah, i followed daddy around everywhere right? and when they told me they were pregnant with soda, i said i didn’t want a brother because then i’d have to share daddy. fast forward, im holding a baby soda in my arms and i look at his tiny face and say ‘i didn’t want you’ then mama asked why and i said ‘cause i hate him!’ and you know what mama did?”
he’s never seen them both so silent and still, but they’re clearly enraptured by his story because neither make an attempt to answer. “she laughed right in my face. she laughed and she’d said ‘no you don’t. you can dislike him all you want, but sodapop is family and you don’t hate family.’ mama was right, of course. later that night daddy said he found me in the crib with soda, both of us knocked out but i had let you use my arm as a pillow.
and christmas day, pones, you spat up all over my new sweater and soda ‘bout laughed himself silly declaring he loved you and you were his new favorite.”
the plates are drying on the counter with darry takes his seat again. both the boys have shiny eyes but also have a small smile attempting to grow.
darry doesn’t mean half the shit he says when he’s feeling stuck. he’s changes his mind on things every second of every day, because this his first time being a real adult or a guardian, but the only thing he hasn’t changed his mind on is loving his brothers.
even though he wishes he were still in college, darry hasn’t for a second regretted loving them enough to give up his dreams to be their legal guardian and keep them all together.
sometimes he has to remind himself that he doesn’t regret it, and sometimes he has to remind them, but that’s alright. because at the end of the day, they’re all together. at the end of the day he’s got both his brothers and (if he takes the time to spray their perfume and cologne on their pillows) it’s almost like he’s still got his parents too
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