Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders. Any characters you do not recognize belong to me.

NO SUGAR TONIGHT

Chapter One:

Sipping my coffee slowly, I was deep in thought as I waited for one of my brothers to wake up so I could leave. I was glad they were late sleepers this one time since it gave me time to think about what I was going to say to Desmond when I arrived at him house for our confrontation. I couldn’t just barge in demanding to know what he’s told my little brother that had haunted him so much for the last few days, but I wanted to know so I could help Pony deal with it.

The nightmare Pony had experienced just last night had something to do with it, I knew. I just couldn’t figure out how much of it was his imagination, and how much had been from Desmond’s talk with him. He’d said something about a fire, and about someone killing their family, but it didn’t necessarily mean Desmond had done those things. I was lost as to how to sort out what was reality and what was my little brother’s vivid feelings.

“Morning, Dar,” Soda’s sleepy voice greeted as he shuffled into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and the cake we always kept there for breakfast. “You going soon?”

“Yeah.” I watched him pour a glass of milk, wincing as he dumped loads of chocolate syrup into it. “You’re gonna make yourself sick with that much sugar this early in the day.”

He flashed me one of his contagious grins, and went back to stirring the milk vigorously. “Nah. I’ll burn it off in no time.”

I sipped my coffee, lifting my elbows off the table as he plopped down with the cake and his milk hard enough to make it shake under me. “Pony still asleep?”

“Yep. He was worn out.” He dug into the cake, smearing chocolate across the table as his fork flipped from his hand. “Damn,” he muttered, grabbing the fork back up before it could skitter off the table and onto the floor.

I laughed softly at his clumsy antics, knowing he was barely awake at this time of morning. “You need to wake up more before you start doing anything that requires motor skills, Pepsi.”

He grinned at me before stuffing a huge bite of cake in his mouth. “Ymmp hfmp goem,” he garbled around the mouthful.

Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“I said you could go on to Desmond’s.” He sipped his milk. “I’ll be here for a while. I can stay with Pony until you get back.”

“Okay.” Getting up from my seat, I set my empty cup in the sink and ran some water into it. “I’ll be back in about an hour.” Turning away from him, I headed for the living room.

“Try not to destroy the house while I’m gone.”

“Dar?”

I paused in the doorway to look back at him. “What?”

His eyes were dark with concern. “Don’t get into a fight with Des. Okay?”

“I don’t plan on it, Soda,” I replied with a small smile. “I’m just gonna talk to him. That’s all. I promise.” When he nodded, I continued on into the living room, stopping only long enough to get my coat from the rack beside the front door.

It was time to find out what was in Desmond’s past that he’d kept so hidden for the last twelve years. Stepping out into the chilly morning air, I stared up at the overcast sky warily. This had been the worst winter we’d ever had here in Tulsa, and I was more then ready for spring to come.

Work had slowed down because of the snow and rain, and it was making meeting the bills more and more difficult even though Soda had gotten his job at the DX back. I studied the various houses on our street as I walked along toward the corner, looking away quickly when I reached the Cade house. Even after almost a year, I still couldn’t bring myself to look at Johnny’s house without wanting to cry, but I couldn’t give into the emotions that assailed me. I had to be strong for the sake of my brothers and the gang.

As I reached the small white house on the corner, I was surprised to find Desmond sitting on the steps outside. I warily walked across the yard with my eyes pinned on him. He had a piece of paper in his hands, and was reading with his head bowed down so that his hair covered his face. “Hey, Desmond,” I greeted in a low voice, not wanting to startle him too much. “You okay?”

He nodded without looking up at me, his shoulders slumped in slightly. “Yup. What ya want, Storm? I know this ain’t no social call.”

“It’s not,” I confirmed, sitting down on the steps a little ways away from him. “Pony’s pretty upset about your last talk with him.”

“I know,” he replied in a quiet tone. “I can feel it still.” He flipped his ashes out away from the porch. “He wanted the truth, Storm, so I told him the truth.” He turned his head toward me, his green eyes dull and emotionless. “Not my problem if he couldn’t handle it. I warned him, but he persisted.”

“He’s only fifteen, Desmond,” I reminded him coldly, anger beginning to rise in me. “Whatever you have told him has caused nightmares.”

“He’s too innocent.” He turned his gaze back to the paper in his hand. “Pony could stand a little toughening up. He’s like sugar, Dar.”

That confused me. Pony was like sugar? How the hell did he get that? I wondered. I knew Desmond had a weird way of expressing things, but this was too much even for him. “How do you figure that?” I asked finally, my curiosity getting the best of me despite my anger.

He shrugged. “Sugar is refined, pure, and can be used in many ways.” Flipping his cigarette into the dirt, he laughed softly. “Just like your little brother, Storm.”

I was speechless at the implication of his statement. My mind was whirling with several different thoughts at once. Was my little brother too refined and pure for this neighborhood? Would anyone be so low as to use his innocence for their own gain? And the one that bothered me the most: Would I even know it if someone was using him?

Desmond shook his head. “He’s not being used, Storm.” He met my worried eyes with a faint glint of amusement in his. “It was just a metaphor. Don’t you remember those from school, or have you been out in the sun too long roofing?”

“Shut up,” I growled, standing up to tower over him. “I want to know what you told Pony, and I want to know it now.” I crossed my arms over my chest, and glared down at him. “Now.”

He shrugged again, not looking up at me. “I told him the truth, Storm.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a piece of yellowed paper and held it up to me. “That should explain some of it.”

I raised one eyebrow as I accepted the paper, finding it to be a folded newspaper clipping. “What’s this?” When he didn’t respond, I carefully unfolded the aged paper, and peered at the picture of the burnt ruins of a house. “What the---“ My eyes widened as I scanned the few paragraphs underneath the picture, shocked at seeing Desmond’s name coupled with that of three other Morgans in the first sentence. “Valerie, Daniel, and Thomas?” I asked in a questioning tone, raising my head to meet his emotionless gaze. “Your family?”

“If that’s what you want to call them,” he replied with a snort of derision. Getting to his feet, he turned his back on me and moved up the steps to the porch. “They got what they deserved.”

I dropped my gaze back to the clipping as the front door slammed shut behind him, my eyes moving to the family picture that was beside the ruins of the house. A lovely, blond woman smiled into the camera, her arm draped over the shoulder of an equally blond boy of about twelve. Behind her was a smiling blond man standing with one hand on her shoulder, and the other on the blond boy’s shoulder. An icy weight settled in my stomach as I perused the other figure in the picture. A small boy of about nine or ten stood slightly off to one side of the others, his dark hair a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin and his eyes dull and blank as he stared into the camera.

“Desmond,” I whispered to myself. My hands shook slightly as I read the story underneath about the fire that consumed all but the youngest Morgan while they slept. He’d done it. Desmond had actually murdered his own family when he was just a child.

I was too stunned to move for a few minutes, as I wondered what could’ve been so bad that he felt the need to kill his own flesh and blood. I could think of nothing that would ever make me even think about doing such a thing to my brothers, much less my parents had they still been alive.

“Hey, Darry!” A loud voice shouted from the street behind me. “What ya doin? Waiting on the grass to grow?”

I turned around to see Two-Bit leaning on the trashcan at the end of the yard, a goofy grin on his face. “No. I was just looking at something.” I walked over to join him on the sidewalk. “You coming to the house?”

He nodded, and fell into step beside me. “Yeah. Nothing better to do.” Whistling jauntily, he kicked an empty cola can down the sidewalk in front of us. “How’s Pony?”

“About the same.” I nudged the can back toward him when it crossed my path, my mind still on the clipping. “He’s nervous as a cat.”

“He needs to get outta the house for a while.” Two-Bit kicked the can into the bushes beside our mailbox and followed me toward the front porch. “Think he’d wanna go to the movies tonight?”

“He might.” I shoved the front door open and stepped into the living room. “You’ll have to ask him about ----“ I trailed off in amazement as I looked around the trashed room.

“Glory,” Two-Bit whispered behind me. “What happened in here?”

“I don’t know, but I’m gonna find out,” I replied darkly, hearing laughter and banging coming from down the hallway. Stalking across the room, I headed down the hallway with Two-Bit almost on my heels. Reaching my brothers’ room, I shoved the door open, and stepped inside. “What the hell is----“ I was cut off when something wiggly slammed into my face, and cold wetness showered me.

“Uh-Oh,” I heard Pony say in a low voice, and it was followed by a whoop of laughter from Soda.

Wiping my eyes clear, I focused on both my brothers. Pony had a green balloon in one hand, and was staring at me with scared eyes while Soda had a blue one in his hand, and was doubled over laughing like crazy. Both of them were soaking wet from head to toe. “What are you two doing?”

Soda looked up at me with laughing brown eyes. “Having a fight,” he replied between snorts of amusement. He locked eyes with Pony, and both of them went off into fits of laughter all over again.

I rolled my eyes, and wiped at the water running down my face from my wet hair. “Where did you get the balloons?” Two-Bit giggled behind me, and I shot him a dark look. “And don’t you encourage them.”

“I found them in the kitchen drawer,” Soda gasped out, falling backward onto their bed.

Pony stopped laughing as his eyes met mine, and he quickly dropped his gaze guiltily. “He caught me unaware, Dar,” he snickered softly. “I had to retaliate.”

“Clean it up,” I ordered, turning to go change my shirt for a dry one. “All of it. The living room, too.” As I went into my own bedroom, I heard them laughing again, and Two-Bit’s jovial giggles joined in. “God help me,” I muttered, looking up at the ceiling with a bemused expression. “Mom, Dad, you’ve produced two crazies. You know that, don’t you?”