My Kid Brother? Sure. (Ponyboy)(INACTIVE)

[eastsidesunset]

The car was deathly silent for a few long seconds before Roger spoke again. And what he said didn't help to lighten things up at all. "Two years ago I was just like them. My girlfriend and I used to get high on the subways and just ride them all night long. It was just a little too....tempting."

I didn't know what to say. And I knew that anything I said right now would be like saying one of the millions of "I'm sorry for your loss"s you get when someone close to you dies and everyone says that just to be saying something. Meaningless. It was better just to stay silent if there really wasn't anything you could think of to say to someone. So that was what I did. I didn't say anything, and hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way. I mean, I understood what he meant and everything. I just didn't have the experience you'd need to comment on something like that.

Instead, I stared out the window at the blackness rushing by, and wondered not for the first time why subway cars had windows, when they barely-- if ever-- went above ground. It always felt like the car was rushing into a black hole, especially at night, and it wasn't the greatest feeling ever, whatever the mood you were in. Creepy when you're scared, sobering when you're happy and real depressing when you're sad. Right now it was giving me shivers, so I stopped looking outside and looked at Roger again just in time for him to say that it didn't matter if I've seen it or not; that I shouldn't have to see it.

Frankly I was amazed he was still worried about me after all that. I shrugged, and said, "Well, there's a lotta stuff people shouldn't have to see but see anyway. When it's all just there, ya learn to live with it. Either that or you explode." Which wasn't unheard of either, I added silently. All the suicides you kept hearing about in the news proved that.

"Call it remorse for all the things that I've done."

"Everybody makes mistakes," I said so quietly my voice was barely a whisper, "The difference is that some people learn from them and some people just keep suffering from them." I was sure I was paraphrasing something-- maybe a book, a lecture, or a movie?-- but I couldn't remember what, exactly. It just popped to mind.

The car screeched to a halt at one of the stations and the doors whooshed open, but nobody got out and nobody came in. As the subway started up again, I looked at the homeless guy sleeping on the far end of the car and thought about how he'd probably spend the whole night just going from one station to the next until a security officer kicked him out. No destinations, no goals, just going wherever the subway took him. And I wondered how many of us would turn out like that, even if just on a psychological level. The thought made my head dizzy and my stomach crawl. Was I coming down with a cold or something?

[ROGER DAVIS]

The boy was quiet, and Roger wasn't surprised. What could people say to something like that? He half expected the boy to say he was sorry, but if the boy said he was sorry, Roger knew he'd get upset. He was tired of people saying they were sorry. Sure, some people actually meant it, but most said it because there was nothing else to say.

Well, there's alotta stuff people should have to see but see anyway. When it's all just there, ya learn to live with it. Either that, or you explode.

April had exploded, and he had nearly exploded right after her, and he knew, at times, the thought ran through his mind even now. But Mimi, his friends...everything kept him here in this life. At least for now. If he lost Mimi...well, he wasn't sure what he'd do.

"I've seen alot of people explode." Two of the Life Support people had killed themselves just in the past year. It seemed he had been going to more and more funerals each month, from suicide or simple AIDS related deaths. When he boy spoke again, Roger looked over at him with a slight frown.

"Sometimes you learn from your mistakes. You always learn, but it doesn't mean you ever stop suffering from them." And sure, it was true. Roger had learned from his mistakes. He had learned that he shouldn't have taken the drugs he had, had all the unprotected sex and shared the needles that he had, but even though he learned from his mistakes, he was still suffering. "Some people suffer for the rest of their lives for their mistakes, even though they spend the rest of their lives trying to make up for it."

As the car screeched, to a halt, Roger reached over, grabbing the seat to stop himself from flying out of the seat. The doors opened, but at the late time, Roger didn't expect anyone to be coming on the subway. He looked from the doors to Pony, and his brows narrowed slightly.

"You okay? Y'look sorta...pale."

[eastsidesunset]

"I've seen alot of people explode."

I nodded slowly, thinking of yesterday when Johnny had admitted to trying to kill himself. He wouldn't tell me how, but after school today I'd had a bad headache and found the secret bottle of aspirin I kept under the bed (Darry didn't like me taking too many, said it wasn't healthy) half-emptied out. Anyone could put two and two together to figure out what Johnny had done. It scared me something awful. What would it take for him to try it again? And this time, would he succeed? I shivered, crossing my arms tightly across my chest.

Roger was speaking again but I only half-heard him, my mind wandering somewhere else completely. But I did hear what he said about how you never stopped suffering from your mistakes. Even if you did learn from them. "You're right," I told him, because he was. "Guess that's why some people start drink and do drugs, huh? To be able forget for a few minutes."

I wasn't even sure if I was making sense or not, I was so tired all of a sudden. Cold, too, though the temperature couldn't have possibly changed in the subway car. So when Roger asked me if I was okay, I wasn't sure how to reply. Was I?

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. Then I started coughing and had a hard time stopping. Maybe I really was sick.

[ROGER DAVIS]

You're right. Guess that's why some people start drink and do drugs, huh? To be able to forget for a few minutes.

A nod crossed Roger, looking over at the boy. "I've been clean for almost three years. It's taken alot to get me there, but I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't think about doing again. It takes years to quit but seconds to start up again. But it makes you forget. That's what I miss."

Then, the boy started coughing, and Roger narrowed his brows as he watched him intently. "You look really shitty." Roger said after a moment, standing up before he watched the boy break out in a thin sheen of clammy sweat.

"...Kid, you really look like shit." He wasn't sure why he was worried, but for a moment, he was. "I'm not a doctor, but there seriously looks like there's something wrong with you."

[eastsidesunset]

I shook my head, wishing for a cigarette even though that'd probably make things worse. Roger's voice sounded a little distant even though he was right beside me and I hoped I wouldn't end up passing out before I got home. "I'm okay," I lied automatically, rubbing my eyes and willing for the wooziness to go away. "Just tired. What were you sayin' before?" For some reason I couldn't remember.

"...Kid, you really look like shit." He sounded worried, standing up again and watching me. Why? I wondered tiredly. He didn't have any reason to be worried. He barely even knew me. I laid my head against my arms, mumbling, "I'll swallow a couple aspirins when I get home. It's no big deal."

When the next stop was reached and the subway lurched to a halt once more, I almost fell over. It didn't do my headache much good, either. How many more stops? In the state I was in I wasn't even sure how I'd get home in one piece. "Sure hope this clears over by tomorrow," I muttered to myself, "Can't miss another practice or Coach'll kill me."

I barely finished my sentence before another rack of coughs hit me. My mouth felt real dry but it wasn't like I carried around a bottle of water. So I ignored it and concentrated on not coughing. I glanced up at the chart of stops and counted six left until I had to get off. Was it just me or was the car moving slower than usual?

No sooner had I thought that that the subway suddenly pitched to a complete stop with no detached voice announcing the name of the station. This wasn't natural, I realized dully, glancing out the black window. Something was wrong with the car.

[ROGER DAVIS]

I'm okay, just tired. What were you sayin' before?

Roger narrowed his eyes at the boy as he seemed to pale even more and he moved, sitting up slowly. "I was talkin' about how I was...clean, are you sure you're okay?" Roger asked, wondering if the boy was going to pass out right there in the car. The car lurched forward and the boy nearly fell out of the plastic seat. Roger jerked slightly, holding out a hand like a father or a big brother would to catch a younger kid, and he stared at Pony with a slight, though growing frown.

"Kid, you don't look okay. You look like you're going to puke." he stated, and then tilted his head slightly. "Did you eat something? Or take something?" The kid looked young, but then again, Roger had been young when he had started. But the boy hadn't seemed messed up when he had first met him.

"...you trippin', kid?"

[eastsidesunset]

"Did you eat something? Or take something?" I glanced up at him, and he took a spilt-second pause before saying slowly, "...you trippin', kid?"

I stared, eyes wide. If I didn't feel so sick I guess I probably would've realized quicker that of course people would come to conclusions like that, Roger more than anyone after all the problems in his life that drugs had caused. But my mind was foggy and it took me a while for that to register. As soon as I did, though, I shook my head as rapidly as I could, with my headache still making me feel like someone was trying to ram my brain open with a heavy log like they used for ramming open doors.

"No! I mean, I'm pretty sure I didn't. Swallow anything by accident I mean. Not like I'd even know where to get it. Well, no, actually I do. But no, I didn't take anything. Just tired. Tired and sick. Honest." Then I shut up, because I knew I was rambling like no one's business. "Darry would kill me," I added for emphasis. But Roger didn't even know who Darry was. Or did he? I couldn't remember if I'd talked about him yet or not.

So I just ended up shaking my head again, giving up the effort to be coherent.

[ROGER DAVIS]

Roger's brows narrowed. He wasn't a doctor by any means, but it was almost as if this kid was fucked up. He rambled, and Roger sat up straighter, eyes watching him. No, there was no way this kid was okay. He could see the sweat starting to bead on the top of Pony's head, and for a second, he wondered if he'd have to take the boy to the hospital by the end of it.

"You're totally not fine, kid." Roger told him seriously, moving from the seat he sat on as the car screeched to a halt. He stood and knelt in front of Pony, brows narrowed. "You're totally on something, I can see it." He glanced at the doors that opened, and then back at Pony. "C'mon, kid. This is our stop."

[eastsidesunset]

He was saying something in a real solemn way but I wasn't really paying attention. It wasn't that I didn't want to. Just kinda hard to concentrate on anything when your head's pounding like crazy. He was standing up as the door opened, motioning for me to follow, that this was our stop. But it wasn't. And didn't he say he was going somewhere else? I was too distracted to figure it out though. What the heck, none of it really mattered.

"'S not my stop," I mumbled, but stood up and followed him out anyway. Might as well get some fresh air. The muggy heat in the subway car wasn't doing much for my head. Am I gonna walk home or something? I thought tiredly, Don't have any more money for a second ride. God, Darry's gonna be pissed. At least the Socs probably won't be out this late. Thinking was exhausting, though, and for a while I just shut off my mind. It was a lot easier than it usually was.

"Where're we going?" I finally managed to ask. Or remembered to, anyway.

[ROGER DAVIS]

Roger wasn't one to leave someone that was obviously sick stranded in the middle of the city. The kid would probably be stopped by the cops, picked up and put in jail. And something told him that the kid could have done without that.

He mumbled, and Roger looked over, watching as he stumbled along. He asked where they were going, and Roger moved, placing a hand on his arm to steady him. "I got a couch you can crash on. Y'look like you just gotta crash for a few hours. We're close to my apartment, and it doesn't really look like you're down to stay out any longer than needed." he explained honestly, watching Pony. "You can crash at my place for a while and then get home. But you look really green, kid. Like, alot green."

[eastsidesunset]

What was he saying? I knew he was talking, but it was getting harder and harder to concentrate on his words, the syllables running into one another like they'd all gone from solid to liquid, melting into the background noise of the streets.

...crash at... place... while... then get home. ...look really green, kid. Like, alot green."

It took a minute for me to respond, even after I managed to get it into my head what he was offering. "Nah," I said quietly, tiredly, barely aware of what I was saying, "I gotta get home. Brothers are gonna worry. Thanks anyway though." With that, I rubbed my eyes, tried hard to clear my head, and started heading back to the station with a small wave. "Nice meetin' ya, Roger." A cool breeze blew by, helping my headache and making things just a bit clearer. I'd be okay, I thought. Just a few more stops and I'd be home.

Home. I sighed, rubbing my temples as I stepped on to a new subway car, even emptier than the last one. It really was hard to see how much home was worth except when you were tired like I was now. All I wanted was a cup of hot milk then bed. It'd been a while since the last time I'd wanted something so simple. It was a nice change, wanting something comfortably within reach. My head still ached, but it was a little better than before.

And as the car whooshed its way from one stop to another, that was all I let myself think about. The stuff tonight's conversation had brought up could wait. Could wait until a day when life felt overwhelming again, like it always did once in a while.