So I got an idea. And I wrote. Let's see how this goes.

Bear with me…storylines will be revealed.

Please review. They make the heart grow fonder.

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I. Don't Fence Me In

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It's all Two-Bit's fault, if you look at it the way I do.

And sure, it's easy to blame my friend but he got me into this mess.

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Soda shakes me. Hard. "I'm going to work, Pony. Right now." His whisper is loud and he breathes it into my ear. He reaches out and tickles my side.

I bury my head in the blankets, muffling a laugh. "Leave m'alone, Sodapop. It's not my fault you gotta work. You stayed in school, you'd get summer break too. Stop bein jealous."

"Oh, ho," Soda chuckles. "Bring that up, kiddo." He swats me on the head and I hear the bed creak as he hops off of it.

"Ponyboy." There's another, deeper voice in the room. "You clean up the house today, get dinner ready."

Giving up on sleep, I wriggle underneath the covers and sit up stiffly. I wipe my eyes. Darry's in the doorway, staring at me. He looks amused and annoyed at the same which is nothing new for him as of late. I've pissed him off pretty good and by the look of his face he isn't nearing forgiveness anytime soon.

"You hear me?"

"Sure, Dar. No problem."

Soda grabs his shoes, giving me a cautious glance. He straightens up and claps Darry on the shoulder. "Let's get to work, Darry."

"And stay on our side of town too," Darry hollers as the two of them are leaving.

I glare at the empty doorway. "Aye, aye, Captain."

XxX

"Give him a break, Dar," Soda tells me. "You know it wasn't his fault. At least most of it." Leaning over, Soda fiddles with the radio, bypassing Elvis, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones…

I grunt and take a right on Avondale Street. "Soda, I don't want to hear this right now." I eye the dial, still turning. "And can you stop messing with that thing?"

Soda rolls his eyes, leaving it on an old Hank Williams song which would make Pony's skin crawl. Soda cranks the window down. There's the flick of his lighter and then he's breathing in cigarette smoke. "You can't stay mad at him forever. And you definitely can't yell at him anymore."

"Don't you worry," I snap. "He can definitely hold his own." Feeling my voice begin to rise, I take a breath and point at my brother. "Look—I'll try not to. I promise."

The minute I say it, I know I shouldn't have. Pony's stumbled into his teen years and even though the same kid's still there, he's even more stubborn and wily than ever. He's growing up and it scares me something fierce.

The DX comes into view and I pull up on the curve next to the gasoline pumps. Steve waves at me from inside the shop.

Satisfied, Soda finishes the smoke and grinds it out in the ashtray. "He'll have a good summer, get his shit together."

Soda jumps out of the truck, slamming the door so hard the window shakes.

XxX

Late afternoon sunlight finds my face, waking me up. I yawn and stretch, having managed to go back to sleep after Sodapop's antics earlier this morning. I toss on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before heading into the living room.

There's a rattling in the kitchen and I find Two-Bit searching the ice box. "You got cake?" he asks without turning around.

I sit down at the table. "You ate it last weekend."

"We could cook another one." Shrugging, he shuts the door and turns around. "Your eye looks better. It's not black anymore."

"Yeah, but it's blue." I bring a hand up to touch the tender bruise under my right eye. "A different color don't count, Two-Bit."

Two-Bit grins at me. "How about that cake?"

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"Well, I think we've been productive today, don't you? You're spending summer vacation the right way, kiddo."

I survey the kitchen, now a disaster, with chocolate spread everywhere and flour coating the floor. "Are you kidding me Two-Bit? We made a cake and then ate it. In under an hour."

"As I said before," Two-Bit ruffles my hair. "Productive. I think it's a world record."

"I doubt it," I mumble, suspiciously feeling my hair for any bits of chocolate Two-Bit might have managed to slip in there. "I gotta clean this up…Darry'll go crazy." The house suddenly seems too small and I realize I'm bored. I'm really, really bored with no place to go.

Two-Bit's busy cleaning his nails with his blade. "He still mad at you?"

I grab the broom from the closet and sigh. "Yeah. I don't blame him though."

"I don't either."

"Thanks a lot."

XxX

Dinner's on the table when I get home and the house is spotless. The tension, however, is heavy in the air. All I do lately is yell at Pony and neither one of us can stand it. Or each other. But this time he's older and he yells back.

"I made chicken," Pony offers as I hang up my tool belt and toss my wallet on the coffee table. The thing's as thick as a brick.

"Smells good."

My brother's lounging on the couch, reading a book I've seen him read 20 times now. "Haven't you read that before?"

"Yeah, but it's ok. It's a good one." He smiles, eyes still on the page in front of him, and sometimes I wonder how I can stay mad at him. But his black eye keeps reminding me to be pissed.

Walking into the kitchen, I say, "If you can get a ride to the library tomorrow afternoon, I'll pick up you from work. You can get some new books." It's close to a stalemate as I can get.

"Okay, Dar. Thanks."

My mouth opens and closes, working on a half-ass apology. "Listen, Pone…" Pony stares at me like I'm a fish out of water. "Sometimes I don't mean—"

Before I can get any further the front door bursts open and Soda and Steve roll inside. They're talking about the latest poker game to organize and any conversation Pony and I have been about to discuss falls down the drain.

I stick my hands in my pockets and Pony opens his book.

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It's late and the smell of cigarette smoke and quiet chatter float through the screen door into the house. I grab my pack of smokes and go join the front porch.

"Howdy," Soda drawls, his face lit up by the glow of his cigarette. Steve's out there with him too, sucking down a beer.

Soda's been smoking a lot lately and I know I'm the reason. He's worried. Worried about what happened, about me and Darry and (if I were any kind of brother) stuff I'm sure I don't even know about. Sometimes I really think I don't deserve Soda one bit.

"Hey." I rest against the railing of the porch.

Steve's scrutinizing me in the dark and unconsciously I cover my eye. "Give it a rest," I mutter. I face the lawn, watching the grass blow in the light evening breeze.

Steve's smile is smug. "I didn't say nothin."

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