AN: Excuse the season I've set this in, I know it doesn't make sense since I've set the story in winter, four months after the Curtis parents death's and they died sometimes in January/February. I hope you can forgive me for that :)

Disclaimer: Nyeahno.

Warm socks, long johns, gloves, ski mask … Darry packed slowly, trying to hold an inventory list in his head. He would've wrote it down, if it weren't for the fact the Ponyboy kept stealing pens out of his room every time another one became lost in a book or bag.

Darry sighed at the idea of leaving his thoughtless little brother for the weekend. He was torn between excitement and something like dread. He wanted the excitement to fill him, to have the quality of the giddiness before a big game, before you reached the border of the next town and everyone got quiet and serious. He wanted it, but it was difficult to grasp. Trips anywhere, be it to the store or to the Nightly Double, made the Curtis brothers cautious. Darry would be at the phone calling up the gang whenever Ponyboy decided last minute to catch a matinee movie on the way home from the dime store on a Saturday. Pony would become antsy, flipping pages in a book he had yet to comprehend during the half hour Darry was stuck in traffic on his way home from work. Sodapop would be shooting the breeze with anyone who was willing to when suddenly he'd remember how long he'd been out and would feel the need to rush straight home.

It was overwhelming, and when Samuel had come for a visit unexpectedly with an invitation for a weekend ski trip, the word "no" had been hanging halfway in the air between he and Samuel when Pony and Soda had started shouting.

"That'd be great, Darry!" Soda cried cheerfully, jumping up and clapping Samuel on the shoulder.

"Yeah, Dar, you oughta go somewhere," Pony added with a nod.

Soda grinned at Samuel and Darry saying, "always knew you were a bright guy Sam, knowing when your buddies have just gotta get out."

Darry had interjected, "now hold on, who said anyone needs to get out? Who's gonna watch out for Pony, huh? You really want to stick around babysitting? How much is this gonna cost me, Sam?"

"I don't need no babysitter," Pony grumbled.

"Don't worry about money, Darry. Glenn's parents got a little cabin they're lending, you know that one we all stayed at senior year, and he's just asking ten bucks from everyone for food. That's all man, and it don't even need to be that much if you don't want. You know Glenn, he's aiming high hoping for a profit," Sam stated with a laugh, scratching his stomach.

Soda sat down on the couch heavily, still smiling, and punched Ponyboy playfully.

"Shoot, he can tag along. We'll be fine. If you don't wanna part with ten of your hard worked dollars, we'll sell Girl Scout cookies, won't we, Pone? Naw? Damn, I could've done with some of those Chocolate Mints. Well, I think we've settled things Sam, Darry's made it very clear that he's heading on up to the slopes!"

Soda settled back into the couch, looking quite proud of him self.

Samuel grinned at me and for a second I felt very old, it was as though I could feel wrinkles weighing heavy on my face and the eternal ache of sports injuries long past. It was like Sam was just a memory of what it was like to be a kid and all I could do was smile back wistfully. Then I realized, with a bit of surprise, that wasn't true at all. I glanced down at my hands, as tough and worked as leather but still smooth; still the hands of a young guy. I told him cheerfully that I'd be seeing him.

The sun was waking little by little, casting feeble, sleepy rays of light onto the hardwood floors.

"Be happy," Darry urged himself quietly. "you-"

Darry cut himself off mid-sentence. He had been ready to say, "You don't stop living because you lose someone." It was what Dad told them all when their grandfather died, but it hadn't been directed at them at the time, or so Darry thought. He was beginning to wonder if Dad had said it to them on purpose, as a piece of advice for later in life. But he wouldn't think of that then, it'd just depress him. And man, was he sick of being sad.

Not knowing how he'd react, he looked up at a double-oval picture frame that sat upon his dresser. His mother smiled sweetly on the left, his father grinned broadly on the right. His heart sank, and he diverted his eyes to the picture beside it. There he was, his brothers hanging over either shoulder. Sodapop's eyes glowed with all the gentleness of their mother tossed hodgepodge in the recklessness of their father. There was Darry, the same proud face of Darrel Senior but the quiet reserve of Mrs. Curtis well preserved. And Pony, nearly tumbling out of the frame as though being in the photograph at all was a mere impulse, wearing hand-me-downs of character from each of them. Their parents weren't as gone as they felt.

Darry shut the suitcase and locked it with satisfaction. He nearly burst out laughing when he realized that he was grinning, and finally remembering how good being happy can really feel.

Ponyboy and Sodapop woke up hours after Darry's departure, the sun shining bright, Winter white. Pony liked Winter, the word of Stopping By the Woods always coming to him at the mere thought of the season. He was enjoying the cozy warmth of his bed in contrast with the cool air outside the covers until Soda leaped out of bed quite suddenly when he heard the familiar slam of the front door that announced Steve's arrival, and dragged the blankets half way across the room and off the bed. Pony shivered a bit as he fished around under the bed for a sock he had kicked off in the night. It was too bad that they couldn't put the hot water heater on too high, it was nice to wake up and wrap up in a blanket and to sit in front of the intense heat. With the temperature it was on now, it wasn't even worth it. This was one of the many things that Ponyboy missed from before his parents died, but something, among other things, he would give up forever if it meant getting his parents back. Besides, the house would warm up once it was packed full of rowdy greasers. He tried to warm his spirits with the thought that Darry wouldn't be nagging about every little thing he did but it was only a half-hearted attempt. Shortly after waking, Pony realized that it wasn't Darry who woke him like he was expecting, but Sodapop. he didn't know why it was bugging him but it made it difficult to be happy that Darry wasn't around when he couldn't remember him leaving in the first place.

"Where's Mr. Darrel Curtis on this woeful Winter morn?" Two-Bit asked. He was standing behind Pony as he tried to comb his hair and kept flicking the comb whenever Pony was close to getting it just perfect.

"Would you cut it out?" Pony said irritably, elbowing Two-Bit in the chest. "He went skiing."

"Cut what out, cut out all that hair? Well gee, Ponyboy, I could if you just let me go get the scissors but you work so hard on that greasy mop I don't know if I'd have it in me."

Pony didn't even attempt to stop Two-Bit for the time being, it'd only encourage him. Instead he combed his hair back in a simple manner and exited the bathroom.

"Hey," Steve called from the kitchen over the radio that was playing Brown Eyed Girl. "Darry left y'all doughnuts."

Within moments of this revelation, all four boys were in the kitchen, attacking the box as though they hadn't eaten in days. Pony thought about this as he chewed his doughnut slowly, savoring the flavor. It wouldn't really be that surprising if they hadn't eaten in a good twenty-four hours. Sometimes because there's not much to eat, other times because there's just something more interesting than food going on.

Sodapop stuffed a chocolate doughnut into his mouth, grabbed a chair with the other hand and straddled it backwards. Leaning over the top he asked in a wet, muffled voice, "what's crackin'?"

"Nothin'," Pony replied, scratching at the peeling tabletop.

"Hey," he said as nonchalantly as he could manage. "Why do you think that Darry didn't say bye? I asked him to wake me up."

"He probably just didn't wanna," Soda replied immediately. "You look awful tired today, anyway. Imagine if he had woken you up? You wouldn't come back round till noon and by then there'd be no doughnuts."

Two-Bit strolled by and snatched one of the said doughnuts out of the box.

"And you snooze you lose, ain't it right or ain't it right?" He said.

"Ain't it right that you're cruisin' for a bruisin' because that's mine," Steve replied snarkily, grabbing the doughnut and shoving it in his mouth whole.

"Yeah, that's some real talent there, Stevie. Been practicing a long time shoving things in your mouth like rocks, socks, and cocks," Soda teased, knowing full well how it'd get Steve worked up.

Pony tilted back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling so Steve wouldn't see him grin. He wasn't in the mood for wrestling or the like so, edging around the flailing fight on the floor and passing by Two-Bit who was betting on who would win the fight with higher stakes every half second, settled into the living room with A Separate Peace. But no matter how many times he turned his eyes down to the page, he always found them looking out the window to the driveway.