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It’s all your fault, a voice whispers in his head.
The shape that voice takes changes daily. After a fight with Ponyboy, it sounds suspiciously like him, teenage sass and all. Sometimes Dally’s accusatory tone will creep in; the same tone he used the day of the fight. Other days it sounds like Johnny’s quiet whispers with a waver of uncertainty. On the worst days, it sounds like his Mama and his Pa. Those are the days when Darry has to do everything in his power not to listen to them because, god, it feels good to hear them again.
Today though, the voice is screaming. No matter what he does Darry cannot drown out the cacophony of blame pouring into his thoughts. He’s scrubbed the whole bathroom, cleaned the kitchen, vacuumed the floor, and repainted the whole goddamn back porch just trying to silence the screams, but nothing is working.
He knows that Ponyboy and Soda can tell something is wrong with him. He’s been able to feel their eyes on him all afternoon while he’s been running around like a mad man. Neither of them have said anything, probably in fear of him blowing up.
That night when he’s bent over the kitchen table balancing their budget for the month, he hears two sets of footsteps walk up behind him. He glances at the clock, noticing how late it is, then looks back at his brothers. Pony’s expression is almost unreadable but Soda has a look in his eyes like he wants to ask Darry something.
Darry sighs, setting his pen down. “Y’all its late, what are ya doing up?”
Pony and Soda look at each other for a second, then they come to sit in their respective chairs at the table. Soda sucks in a breath but it’s Ponyboy who speaks up first. “Me ‘n Soda were talking and we both noticed you were real off today, what’s wrong?”
Darry feels his heart seize up in his chest. He can’t explain this to them, not yet. He doesn’t feel like tearing open a wound that has just begun to scar. He clears his throat and replies, “I don’t what y’all are on about, I’m fine.” Pony and Soda exchange another glance, then they look back at him.
Soda reaches across the table and puts his hand on Darry’s, squeezing it gently. He’s giving Darry his world famous puppy dog eyes and it’s almost enough to break him down and have him spilling his guts all over the floor. “After everything we said no more lies, remember,” Soda asked him and shit. Because of course he remembered, he came up with that rule in the first place. He reaches up to fiddle with the chain around his neck that held his parent’s wedding rings.
You don’t deserve to wear those around your neck murderer, the voice yells. It’s so loud in his head that Darry flinches, causing both Soda and Pony to widen their eyes at him. Pony tilts his head and says, “now you can’t say that was nothing, we both saw ya flinch at nothing.”
Darry sighs again and puts his head in his hands. How is he supposed to tell his little brothers what’s going through his head. It’s not like he can just tell them that he hears their dead friends and dead parents in his head saying things like it’s all your fault I’m dead or you’re a murderer or you should join us, your brothers will be better off without you.
He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Soda is coming around the table to wrap his arms around him and Pony is holding his hand. “You gotta talk to us Dar, no more secrets.” He pulls his head out of his hands and wipes the tears off of his face.
He sighs, and gestures for Soda to sit back down. “Alright I’ll tell y’all, but you’ve gotta understand I’m not in any danger,” Darry says which has Ponyboy furrowing his brows in the way that makes him look older than 14. He sighs and sits back in his chair. “There’s this voice in my head that’s always echoing my worst thoughts, and some days it’s louder than others. It says really mean shit. And some times it sounds like Dally or Johnny or y’all. On my worst days it sounds like Mama and Pa. Today was one of those days.”
Darry could see the tears welling up in his littlest brother’s eyes at the mention of their dead friends and their dead parents, but Pony’s hand never leaves his. Soda looks down then looks back up at him. “What does that voice say,” he asks.
Darry grabs Soda’s hand and squeezes it. “A lot of stuff. Things I think about that I’ve never told y’all. Stuff like how it’s my fault that,” his voice catches in his throat, but the words still get across to his brothers, considering how wide their eyes got. “That it’s my fault everyone’s dead. Or that Mama and Pa would be disappointed in me or,” Darry pauses, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks, “or that y’all would be better off if I had died instead of Johnny or Dally.”
Ponyboy gasps and he lets out a small sob. Darry aches to take his words back, to have never told his brothers the horrors of his mind. Soda grabs Pony’s other hand and looks back to his big brother. “How long have you been thinking these things,” Soda asks. He prays that Darry hasn’t had these thoughts long, that they’re a new occurrence.
Darry looks down and swallows hard, then he replies, “ever since the funeral. It started when I saw how bad y’all were hurting after our parents died.” He looks up and sees the tears rolling down both of his brother’s cheeks. “I didn’t tell y’all because I didn’t want y’all worrin’ about me.”
Pony’s out of his chair and storming around to the other side of the table so fast that both Darry and Soda jump. With one swift motion, he’s wrapping his arms around Darry and burying his face in his shoulder. Darry feels the hot tears wetting his shirt and next thing he knows he’s sobbing, holding onto Ponyboy like his life depends on it.
Soda quickly rounds the table and pulls both of them into his arms. Days could have passed before Darry feels himself slowly stop crying. Soda pulls back and wipes a stray tear off of Darry’s face. “Next time you have those kinda thoughts, let someone know. I hate knowing you were hurting so bad and none of us knew.” Darry nods, and gives Ponyboy a good squeeze, who then takes a step back.
Darry stands up out of his chair and give Soda a quick hug. “I can’t promise nothin’ but I can try.” Soda nods, then he wraps his arms around Darry’s middle. Darry feels another set of arms wrap around him and he just lets himself be held by his brothers. Eventually they let him go, smiles on their faces.
Pony grabs Darry’s hand, then starts dragging him down the hall towards his and Soda’s room. Darry lets out a small laugh and continues to let himself be pulled, Soda on his heels. “You’re sleepin’ in here with us tonight, no exceptions,” Pony says, crawling onto the bed. With no fight left in him, Darry crawls in next to him, Soda following behind him. He feels himself being tugged and next thing he knows his head is pillowed on Soda’s chest. Ponyboy reaches an arm across Darry’s waist, and settles in behind him.
Darry closes his eyes, basking in the comfort his brothers provide. The voice is still there, but it’s barely audible now. The screams it once had being tuned out by the love that surrounds him and Soda’s hand running through his hair. After a few moments, all three are drifting off into the most peaceful sleep any of them have had since January.