A.N: A Soda romance- Post 'The Outsiders'. 'Cause Soda could do with a little bit of love

Disclaimer: Hinton owns.

'Streetlights'

Sodapop Curtis sat on the ground with his long legs stretched out in front of him, trying not to gag at the smell of the room. The cell floor was cold, even through his jeans, and it was all he could do to stop his teeth from chattering.

His handsome face was strained under the dim fluorescent light and in all honesty, it was all he could do to keep from crying. What a jack ass he'd been, losing his temper like that. It wasn't even in his nature to flip out the way he had but glory, some guys knew just what buttons to press.

Steve usually worked alongside him at the gas station on a Thursday afternoon but that particular Thursday was he and Evie's two year anniversary. He hadn't said anything to Soda of course, not after everything that had gone on these past few months but Soda knew why he wasn't working alright.

Knowing Steve couldn't give him a ride home, Darry was supposed to pick him up on the way back from work, but he'd been caught up at work. Sodapop had decided to walk. He enjoyed a walk every now and then. As much as he enjoyed anything these days anyhow. It cleared his head and gave him the excuse he needed to be alone.

"Hey, Sodapop, where's your girlfriend today?"

It was Roger Thornton. Some lower middle classed jerk who had wanted Sandy since before Soda had even laid eyes on her.

Soda didn't look back. He just slouched down, thrust his hands into his pockets and kept on walking. Thornton and his buddy could talk themselves silly. They weren't getting a rise out of him today.

"Curtis! You got an address for Sandy? I think I might owe her some child support." His buddy had joined in now. The two of them were snickering like a couple of fourth graders.

Soda felt a pang in his stomach as he thought about Sandy with a child that wasn't his. It made him want to be sick.

He knew what everybody thought of him- that he was a stupid kid who had been so in love he never noticed his girl was cheating right under his nose. Even Darry and Pony didn't understand it-not really. He remembered the shock on Darry's face when he had told him he was going to marry Sandy anyway, and then the utter relief when his pleading letters had been returned unopened

"Are we making you mad, Curtis?" It was Thornton again, and Soda felt a little jab in his shoulder blade. "What are you gonna do, get Dallas Winston on us? Oh, that's right, the cops did society a favor and shot him to pieces."

Sodapop carried on walking. They were trying to mess with him but using Dally wasn't going to get them anywhere. Sure, he missed Dallas like crazy, but Dally himself would probably agree with everything they'd just said and Soda knew had he been alive, Thornton wouldn't have dared to even mention his name.

"Hey, what was that other kids name? The little puny one, murdered that guy and then got his just deserts in a flaming building? Boy, your social group sure is dwindling, Curtis."

Soda almost gasped. Not Johnny. Dally he could take, even Sandy he could take, but not Johnny. Please not Johnny. He remembered his baby face black from soot the day they'd come to the hospital for Pony. He remembered all the machines Johnny was hooked up to, his tiny body looking even smaller in the hospital bed. He remembered the funeral, looking at the kid sized coffin and watching Pony wail like he had at their folk's funeral.

They saw him tense up at the mention of Johnny. Dally would have slugged him a good one for showing them he cared. Mind you, Dally would have beaten the hell out of these dorks as soon as they'd opened their mouths. But Soda couldn't get into a fight. Not here, right out on the street.

No more trouble, Darry had said. And Soda got it...they were holding onto Pony by a thread because although Soda was almost eighteen, Pony was well and truly a minor who could be thrust into a boys home at the next sign of trouble.

"I hear he was fried to a crisp," Thornton persisted. "Black as coal when they put him in the ground. Good riddance to bad rubbish, that's what I say."

Soda didn't realize that the loud war cry ringing in his ears came from him nor did he register the glass shop front beside them. In fact, it wasn't until he and Thornton had crashed through the pane of glass and into the window display that he realized he' d reacted at all. What a jack ass.

He would have made a run for it but as luck would have it, a police cruiser was passing and they were inside the women's salon before he could even get to his feet. He'd gone quietly when the police had cuffed him outside. He felt bad when he saw the frightened faces of the women inside the salon. He didn't get off on scaring chicks.

Thornton had no such intention of going so quietly. He bucked and swore and insulted Soda all the way to the station. But Soda didn't care about Thornton, nor did he care about being put in a cell. He wasn't even scared of the threat of jail or what Darry would say to him. If Ponyboy got taken away, he would never forgive himself.

"Curtis." The cell door opened and the officer was framed by the doorway, a serious expression on his face. "You got one phone call. Make it quick."

Soda climbed to his feet and followed the officer out into the custody suite. He stared down at the phone for a few moments as he thought about what Darry was going to say to him. Social Services weren't going to be rushing down here at any moment- Soda wasn't a kid- but they'd be notified without a doubt. Maybe he should call Steve and let him break it to Darry gently...

"Hurry it up," the officer said impatiently.

Soda picked up the receiver hesitantly and thought to himself that Steve probably didn't know how to break news gently. And it wasn't fair for him to be on the receiving end of Darry's wrath. He needed to man up and make the call himself.

"When am I getting out of here?"

The officer glanced up from his desk at the question.

"Well, that all depends. Thornton's not pressing charges but the salon sure as hell are. Can't say much else until we get you into interview."

With shaking fingers, Soda dialed home.

"Hello?" The phone was snatched up in seconds and Soda closed his eyes as Darry's breathless voice filled his ears.

"Darry, it's me."

"Where the hell are you, kid? We' ve been sick with worry."

"I'm...uh...I'm at the cop station."

The silence on the other end was much worse than the yelling. So much worse.

"And what are you doing there?"

He could hear Ponyboy in the background asking Darry where he was and could almost envision Darry holding up a hand to hush him.

"I got in a fight."

Again, the silence. Again, Soda wished he would yell.

"Are they letting you go?"

"Hopefully in a couple of hours."

"Alright, I'll be right there." Darry was pissed, and Soda didn't blame him. After fighting so hard to keep them together, Soda had screwed it up in one thoughtless moment. The police officer signaled for him to put the phone down and sighing, Soda said goodbye and followed orders.

88888888

"I can't believe you were so stupid, Sodapop!" Darry thumped the wheel of the truck in frustration as they pulled out of the station parking lot.

"I'm sorry," Soda said for the millionth time. And he was, more sorry than he'd ever been.

"Is sorry gonna cut it when they cart you and Pony off to a boys home? We got lucky last time-darn lucky-what makes you think we'll be so lucky again?"

Soda miserably leaned his head against the passenger window, glad Ponyboy wasn't here to listen to this.

"I could kind of understand if he hit you first," Darry raged on. "But you threw him through a store window because he provoked you? That's not like you at all."

Soda continued to stare out of the window.

"Are you even listening to me, Soda? Are you gonna tell me what this is all about?"

Soda sighed.

"I don't want to talk about it right now."

It started to rain, fogging up the windscreen and blurring Soda's view of the passing streets. He couldn't look at a streetlight without being reminded of Dallas, and his heart ached with a renewed strength when he considered how much Ponyboy had already been through. Being taken away from home because of Soda's stupidity was the last thing he needed.

"You don't wanna talk about it?" Darry pulled the truck over violently, slamming on the brakes and wrenching up the handbrake. They were both thrown forward in their seats. "Well, I'm gonna need to have something to tell Pony when he asks me why he has to go into a home!"

Soda couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

"They were talking about Johnnycakes, okay?"

Darry looked startled and Soda saw the first flicker of understanding in him since he'd picked him up. He put a hand to his head and sighed a long world weary sigh.

"What did they say?"

"Just awful stuff, Darry. They started in on Sandy and Dallas too, but that I could handle, you know? The dig on Sandy was really a dig at me and whatever anyone says about Dallas would never have bothered him, would it? But when they started in on Johnny..."

Soda swiped at his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

"I'm so sorry, Darry. I'll let the social workers know it was all me and not anything you did. Hopefully they'll just take me away and not Pony-"

Darry cut him off by unbuckling his seat belt and enveloping him in a crushing hug. Soda leaned against him and cried into his shoulder, reassured by the familiar scent of fabric softener and shower gel.

"You're not going anywhere, little buddy, you hear me?" Darry said firmly. "It's not a big deal like before, only criminal damage- It's not like you killed anybody."

Soda cried harder as he thought about Johnny and Dallas. He wanted to stop himself- Golly, did he- but he hadn't cried in so long. Everything had been about being strong for Pony and making sure that he was okay. Any leftover energy went into making Darry's day easier- putting away laundry, having dinner ready when he got home. And that was on top of his job at the DX.

"It's gonna be okay, Pepsi-Cola, alright?" Darry continued to hold him and Soda squeezed his eyes shut, wondering if things would ever be okay again. He missed Sandy so much it felt like it was burning a hole in his stomach.

He couldn't talk to anybody about it either. Darry had too much on his plate, he didn't want to worry Pony and Two-Bit couldn't stay serious or sober enough to have a conversation about anything of substance these days. There was Steve. And Soda had always been able to talk to Steve, except these days Soda felt less like a best friend and more like a third wheel to he and Evie. Evie, who was Sandy's best friend and who Soda strongly suspected knew a lot more than she had let on.

It had felt good to finally let it all out. Soda slumped down onto his big brother but as quickly as the moment had come, it suddenly passed. He sat up and took a long sobering gulp.

"Sorry," he said quietly, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "I don't know what happened for a moment there."

"It's okay, Buddy." Darry patted him awkwardly and refastened his belt. "Let's go home. I told Pony to go to bed but I bet anything he's still awake."

Soda nodded mutely and watched the passing streetlights flash by from his window.

Those darn streetlights...