Std disclaimer: I don’t own anything about The Outsiders (book or movie, characters, TV scripts, or anything else)

Soda and I clung to Ponyboy for a good, long while. I couldn’t find words. Soda rubbed his head and, in light-hearted Soda fashion, chuckled and told him that it did feel tuff. When I felt Pony start to shake a little, and heard him suck in a breath, a profound relief nearly knocked me off of my feet. Some part of the Ponyboy I knew was still in there somewhere. He’d just learned to hide.

Hell, we probably embarrassed the hell out of him, three guys stuck together like glue for a small eternity. But then I felt Ponyboy give out a little, and I steadied him and eased him back.

“We need to get out of this rain,” I said. It came out gruffly. I didn’t mean it to. It was just that I had this huge lump in my throat that I couldn’t swallow down.

He nodded and turned toward Red Flag. Funny, I hadn’t noticed before, but he was limping heavily. I wondered where he was hurt, what damage we would find on him this time. “M-man,” he said, his teeth chattering now, “I want a shower so bad, it ain’t funny!”

Soda poked his arm with one elbow. “Ain’t you had enough showers today?”

Pony gave him a wan smile. “Enough rain showers,” he agreed.

He had dark shadows under his eyes. His fatigues were looser than I remembered them being when we put him on the bus. Of course, they would be, wouldn’t they? He probably hadn’t eaten anything out there. I didn’t think a guy like Kent would have the mercy to leave them with rations.

Inside the barracks, Soda and I changed back into the clothes we’d been wearing the day before. I was glad I had decided to bring an extra pair of jeans. We hadn’t known how long we would be.

Ponyboy peeled out of his shirt and got out of his boots and socks. Fury bubbled up inside me as I saw the bruises along his back. He reached for his neck and blinked.

“Shit,” he said. “I lost my tags.”

I shook my head. “Miller found them on your bed,” I said, and went to the cabinet, where Miller had left them. I tossed them to him. He looked bewildered.

“I didn’t notice they were gone,” he said and frowned. Then he got into his footlocker and pulled out the alternate set of camo pants and the extra RCJMC shirt. He slung a standard issue white towel over his shoulder, and then he just brushed past us with his bath kit and went into the latrine without another word.

I wondered what he was thinking, how he was feeling. If he was in a lot of pain, or just a little. He was quiet, but then, he’d always been quiet. I didn’t know if it meant anything or not. Soda was looking at the empty archway after him. He seemed torn. I knew he, too, was wondering if Ponyboy was alright. Of course, he wasn’t alright. I guess Soda was wondering to what degree he wasn’t alright.

Not knowing what to do with ourselves, we sat down on two of the other racks and waited while he showered.

God. I’d never been so glad to see any two people in my entire life. Why did it all seem so unreal? I half wondered if I wasn’t still under a tree somewhere, dreaming the whole thing. I really hoped not. I wanted it to be real. I wanted it so bad that I almost couldn’t get myself to duck into the latrine. I was afraid if I left them there, I’d find out they were never really there to begin with.

It seemed like some other guy stepping into the shower stall and pulling the curtain shut, twisting on the tap until the water was hot enough to scald him. It was someone else who squirted enough shampoo in his hand to wash Rapunzel’s hair instead of his own short spikes. It was someone else who damn near fell asleep in the shower under the delicious, lazy heat that poured over him. It was such a welcome rain.

I wondered how it was I never noticed those tags were gone. The key. Kent hadn’t even wanted us to have something like something sharp. Something useful, even if only moderately so.

I toweled off and got dressed and tried to decide which one I wanted more…food or sleep. But when I stepped out of the latrine and began to feel all three days (and today) in every bone of my body, I wondered if I might rather visit the infirmary. But the thought of Ratched’s customary two aspirins wasn’t enough of an incentive. I wondered if she’d give me another 2DLD. That made me smirk.

Seeing Darry on Wade’s rack and Soda on Charlie’s stopped me in my tracks. I hadn’t forgotten they were here, but they didn’t fit. It made me disoriented, left me unstructured. I didn’t know what to do next, what would come next. It spooked me a little, realizing my time was about to become my own again. What would I do with it all?

“Pony?” Darry asked, watching me levelly.

“Yeah?” I asked over my shoulder, heading back to my footlocker. I stowed my bath kit and locked it up again. It was a relief to feel those tags again, though I couldn’t say why. I hadn’t even known they were gone.

“What do you say we get some chow?” Darry sounded funny, but I was too tired to think about it, to figure out what he wanted from me. He’d just have to spell it out.

I still didn’t know whether I wanted to sleep or eat. But Darry seemed to want me to eat, so I pulled my knapsack, still packed from my marathon on the Roster, off the peg on the wall and fished out the little pouch that held my poncho. I pointed to the wall behind them and said, “Y’all can use some of the others’ stuff.”

It was still pouring. I was glad for that poncho. And I was glad, too, that I’d chosen to eat instead of sleep as I smelled the heavy odor of meat. Didn’t matter what kind. Mystery was fine, so long as it was hot and had gravy.

I was surprised to find Wade and Kurt there, in dry clothes, chasing the last of their gravy around with pieces of plain white bread. My mouth watered so bad I almost drooled all over my own overloaded tray. “Hey,” I said, wondering where they’d been. How they got dressed without coming back to the barracks. Wade was in his 2nd pair of camos and drabs, too, but Kurt was wearing plain old jeans and a grey sweatshirt.

“Hey,” Wade nodded.

Kurt swallowed. “Feel better?”

“Hell, no,” I said. They grinned wearily. I was surprised they weren’t face down in their chow.

I realized then that Darry and Soda were standing by the table, watching us. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I said, standing up. “Guys, these are my brothers, Darry,” I pointed, “and Sodapop.”

Kurt just shook his head. “Kent would’ve had a field day with that,” he said.

I nodded. “And this is Wade,” I put a hand out toward him, “and he’s Kurt.”

Darry and Soda nodded and grinned. They sat down. It was so strange, the five of us sitting down together, eating. They were home, and home was here. Something felt wrong with that. I wasn’t sorry they were here, not by a long shot. I just didn’t know how to tie the two together. Or why I should think that I had to. Or why it felt like something to be ashamed of. Ashamed for Darry and Soda to see.

“Where’d you guys get those clothes?” I finally asked, just to break the loaded silence. “I didn’t hear you come back to Red Flag.”

“We didn’t.” Kurt said, swallowing the last of his milk. “Thought you might like a little time with your brothers, so we borrowed some clothes from a couple guys in Black Flag.”

“You need to see Nurse Tustin,” Wade said. “She’s expecting you.” So that was her name. Tustin.

Darry slid a glance my way. He and Soda were just taking it all in, not saying much. That felt odd, too. I had so much to say, but the words wouldn’t come. I wondered if they felt the same.

“What for? To give me two aspirin and a 2DLD?” I snorted.

“Nah,” Kurt shook his head. “She’s gonna stick you with a needle full of antibiotics, just in case. Says we could get sick from drinking all that fresh mountain water.”

I hadn’t thought of that. Shoot. Guess I’d better get over there. The last thing I wanted was to feel any worse. “Soon as I’m done eating.”

Funny thing was, I almost couldn’t eat. I picked at the meatloaf and mashed potatoes. It was delicious, but after the first couple of greedy forkfuls, I felt…full. I wondered if all that growling my stomach had done was actually my insides folding up into themselves, shriveling away. But I didn’t want to worry Darry and Soda, and I wasn’t missing their eyes darting to my plate, keeping count.

“So, where are y’all from?” Wade asked, aiming his question at Darry and Soda, trying to include them.

“Tulsa,” Darry said, fiddling with the rim of his glass. “How about you?”

“Little Rock,” Wade told them.

Kurt swallowed again. “Albuquerque.”

“Hey,” I broke in, “are your folks here?”

Wade shrugged. “Not yet.” Soda looked at him with pity. He either pretended not to notice or he ignored it.

“Yeah,” Kurt nodded. “Miller took me over to HQ practically before I got out of the shower.” He grinned, but then his face darkened. “I can’t believe they won’t let us go home.”

Darry’s head whipped up, and Soda’s jaw dropped. “What?” Darry asked. “What do you mean they won’t let you go home?”

“Yet,” Wade said, wiping gravy off his chin with the back of his hand. “They have to contact the courts.”

Kurt nodded. “Our judges have to agree to release us early since the judgments were nine weeks. It’s only been about four. Not even quite that, yet.”

“You mean they might make y’all finish the session?” Soda was stunned.

I was pretty shocked, too. I’d always just assumed if we made it back, I’d be headed home with Darry and Soda by night fall the same day. Today. It felt like more of Kent’s cruelty, like he was still clawing at me even though I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him around anywhere.

Darry shook his head. “That judge can just go to hell,” he said. “Soon as you’ve eaten and gotten that shot and had some rest, we’re on the highway.”

I was grateful to hear him say that, even if it couldn’t be true. I’d do whatever the judge said I had to do to keep from getting put in a boy’s home, even if it meant wandering around the countryside for another three days. Even if it meant watching Darry and Soda drive out those gates without me.