#IM SO SORRY! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

broareweabouttoviberightnow · 25 days ago

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Hello, your neighborhood Darry Curtis angst truther here. I would love to see what kind of Darry angst your magical brain can cook up, but I am partial to a sickfic. I can’t wait to read what you come up with!

oh I LOVE this!! Sick darry rots in my brain NON stop LOVE LOVE this ask!! fic under the cut!! TYSM FOR THE ASK!!

cw!! vomiting (nothing graphic!!)

Darry didn't get sick. He just didn't. He would defy the laws of nature and manage to avoid it in the middle of January takin' care of both Pony 'n Soda who'd managed to get strep and flu respectfully. He'd dodge it when Two took up a permanent residence in his bed with the stomach bug for a week. He'd come out without a scratch when both Dallas 'n Steve had the common cold 'n acted like they were goin' to have to be put down come dawn.

Pony 'n Soda claimed that Darry managed to stay healthy as a horse all year long on pure stubbornness. Darry had told them that if that was the case, Pony would never have caught so much as a cough.

Yes, Darry Curtis had a track record to uphold. A record he was currently watchin' slip straight through his fingers.

"G'mornin' Dar," Soda's already in the kitchen when Darry walks in, a bad sign. Darry can't remember the last time Soda had gotten ready before anyone. The second he claps his eyes on Darry his brows knit in concern. "You ok?"

"'Mornin', honey. I'm fine." He has to be. He ruffles Soda's hair 'n tries to walk past him, he can hear the sound of an egg burnin' on the pan 'n he's really not in the mood to have to scrape it off. The smell makes his stomach do a sudden, violent lurch. Soda easily blocks him, noddin' for Dallas, who leans over 'n takes the pan off from where he's sittin' in the window sill. "C'mon, kid."

"Somethin's wrong." Soda reaches up to put his palm on Darry's forehead 'n Darry easily bats him away.

"I just slept bad, I'm fine." To be fair, that was the truth. Or at least partly. Dallas had rolled in past three in the mornin' from a shift with the ponys at Buck's 'n climbed straight into Darry's bed, wreakin' like a stable 'n twice as cold. When he had tried to kick the kid out he had fought, literally, tooth 'n nail. Somethin' about Soda not bein' warm 'n Pony not sharin' the blanket. Never you mind it was the spittin' middle of summer. Darry had conceded, if only for the chance to go back to bed. The culprit glanced over his shoulder 'n grinned 'n Darry narrowed his eyes at him.

"Well... alright." Soda reluctantly moves out of the way 'n Darry squeezes his shoulder, grabbin' a piece of dry toast from the counter 'n movin' to put his shoes on. "Are you 'n Steve walkin' to the DX or d'you need a ride?" Steve 'n Soda's love child of a beater had recently done the only thing it did well, stop workin'. Again. Steve swore this time it was just the muffler. Easy fix. Last time he'd said that their car had sat on Darry's lawn for a week.

"We'll walk- wait you gotta have some breakfast." Soda stubbornly moves to cut him off again 'n Darry chuckles fondly, easily manhandlin' him out of the way.

"I'm gonna be late kiddo." He holds the toast in his mouth 'n steps into his work boots. "Hey, one of you make sure Pony gets up before you leave or else I swear he'll sleep all day." Darry shoves aside the feelin' in his gut, half premonition, half sickness.

"I'll get him up later." Dallas climbs off the counter 'n both him 'n Soda share a look. "You sure you're good, man?"

"Glory, you two really know how to make a man feel better." Darry rolls his eyes but gives them both a grin. "I'll be fine. Now, I'll be 'round to pick up you 'n Steve after work, 'n Dally, you're on dishes." Dallas scowled but didn't complain which wasn't much of a comfort. Darry must look bad if Dallas wouldn't kick up a fuss.

He was fine. He'd be fine.

God knows what they would do it he wasn't.

...

Darry was home by noon. Apparently, they don't take kindly to you vomitin' up breakfast at the construction site. He'd begged to be able to stay but his boss had stood firm on it. He was a real good man, had worked with his father, 'n had offered him the afternoon paid time off.

He'd barely gotten home. It was like all at once his body had just decided to quit workin'. His legs fell like jelly as he climbs out of the truck, white knucklin' the railin' to get up the steps.

"Pone?" He calls when the door swings open 'n is greeted with nothin' but the vague smell of burnt eggs. He instantly ducks into the kitchen 'n brings up bile. Well. Shit.

He reaches over 'n slides the window open, hopin' to circulate some air into the house. Only the sticky, tempid dry heat of Tusla summers trails through the screen. Darry sinks down to the basin, restin' his hot forehead against the cold metal.

Alright. Up. The house is, mercifully, empty 'n Darry makes quick work of shruggin' off his shoes, shirt, 'n work belt. He trudges down the hall 'n ducks into the relative darkness of his room. He's asleep before he realizes it, passed out on the bed with his Levi's still on.

...

"Darry?" Darry wakes up with a migraine, head swimmin'. Soda's voice calls from somewhere in the house 'n it's got a shrill high note of panic in it. Darry glances to the end table 'n has to shake his head three times before he processes the time. Six in the afternoon. Shit.

Darry sits up too fast 'n the world spins around him. No. No no no. He couldn't do this. The door to his bedroom bangs open 'n Soda appears in the doorway, face flushed, hair stickin' in every direction. Steve hovers behind him lookin' just as stricken.

"Oh, fuck. Dar you don't look good." Soda sits down on the bed 'n pushes Darry's hair off his sweaty forehead in a way oddly reminiscent of how Darry often did to him. He tries to grin, sits up a little taller, shakes Soda off 'n doesn't even grimace when just that makes his head damn near split. Soda doesn't fall for it one bit. "Darry you lay back down. Steve go get some soup from the cabinet, I know you haven't eaten anythin'." Soda shoots him a determined look 'n nods to himself when Darry doesn't protest. Steve spares him one more worried frown 'n disappears back down the hall.

"I'm fine Soda." Which is just about the biggest lie he's ever told.

"No, you're not." Soda leans over 'n presses on Darry's shoulder to make him lie down. He pretends it doesn't scare him how little force it takes. "You would never have forgotten to pick up me 'n Steve if somethin' wasn't wrong. 'N you definitely wouldn't be home early. Now, hush." Darry glances at him guiltily but now that he's layin' back down he can barely hold his eyes open.

"'M sorry, kiddo." Soda squeezes his shoulder 'n drops a kiss to his hot forehead.

"It's alright, Dar. Let me take care of you for once." And he thinks he says somethin' but, truthfully, he's asleep before he can be sure.

...

The next time he wakes up the sun is low outside his window, the shadows stretchin' long across the floor. He feels worse. Somehow. His body aches like he's been hit by a truck. His throat is sore 'n raw 'n he can feel the barely stagnant nausea in his stomach. When he turns his head the migraine flares to life along the edges of his vision.

"Darry?" Darry squeezes his eyes shut, the low voice soundin' like a gunshot in the silence. He blinks blearily, lifts his head 'n searches for the voice's owner.

"Pone?" The armchair from the living room has been drug into the corner of his bedroom 'n Pony is curled up in it. Darry can hear the sounds of Soda, Steve, 'n Dallas all in the kitchen down the hall 'n he grimaces.

"Yeah, Darry it's me." Shit. Pony shouldn't be in here. He can't afford the kid gettin' sick. Or seein' him like this. He's not supposed to be fallible. Glory, he doesn't have it in him to look strong right now. So he's gotta get the kid out.

"Your brother know you're in here?" Pony worries his lip between his teeth.

"No, he didn't want me to bug you but... I didn't want you to be alone." Glory, the kid could be a thorn in his side sometimes. But then he'd turn around 'n say somethin' like that 'n Darry really didn't know what he'd done in his life to end up with such good kid brothers.

"C'mere, Ponybaby." Darry shifts over, bites back on his wince, 'n Pony immediately curls up in the crook of his arm. Darry strokes his hair gently 'n Pony clutches Darry's side like if he can't hold on to him he'll vanish. The heat of Pony's body is nearly unbearable against Darry's fever-ridden sickness but Darry'll be damned if he's not gonna give his kid brother whatever comfort he can right now.

Darry's just startin' to drift again when the door eases open, the light from the hall nearly makin' him wretch. Soda slips in 'n eases the door shut behind him, a bowl of soup steamin' in his hands. The smell makes Darry's stomach churn.

"Ponyboy Curtis, didn't I tell you to let Darry sleep?" But he doesn't sound mad at all.

"C'mon Soda," Pony tucks himself tighter into the crook of Darry's elbow 'n Darry squeezes Pony reassuringly.

"Pony, mind your brother. I'll be fine." He gives Pony a gentle shove 'n Pony slides reluctantly off the bed 'n to Soda's side. Soda drops a kiss to his head 'n Pony slips out into the hall with a single worried glance back.

"How ya feelin', Dar?" Soda plops down on the bed, settin' the soup down on the end table 'n handin' Darry a glass of water.

"I'm-"

"If you say fine I'm gonna call you a liar." Soda wags a finger 'n Darry scoffs, flinches.

"I've had better days." Darry takes a small sip of the water, it feels like acid down his dry throat.

"You don't say?" Soda chuckles under his breath 'n takes the glass back, swappin' it with the soup 'n fixin' him with a look when he grimaces. "You gotta try to eat somethin', Dar."

Darry holds the bowl in his lap 'n takes a long steadin' breath. He doesn't want to. Honest. But he's spent too many mornin', noon, 'n nights fightin' with sick kids to know better than to refuse. He wasn't gonna make this any more stressful on Soda than it already was. "You know, Pepsi, you're pretty damn good at this older brother thing."

Soda folds his legs up crisis-cross under him 'n smiles ruefully. "I'll be happier when I can hand the position back over."

Darry chuckles 'n reaches out ruffles his hair. "Sorry, kiddo."

"For what? If you're apologizin' for gettin' sick I'm gonna make you eat the casserole I made for dinner instead of Steve's Campbell." Soda shoots him a stern glare he can't quite hold.

"Apologizin'? Who's apologizin'? I was feelin' sorry for myself." Soda howls his laugh 'n Darry has missed hearin' it so bad he manages to completely ignore the way his migraine fuzzes around his temples.

"Alright, mister, no more stallin'. Eat." Darry manages two bites in ten minutes. Then he vomits both it 'n the water back up.

"Dar..." Soda rubs his back 'n Darry bites his lip hard. He wants to bawl. He won't do that to Soda. "I think we're gonna hafta call a doc."

"Look, give me another day. I'm not gonna drain our entire fund for some stupid cold, ok? I'll be alright. Give me another day." He somehow finds it in him to sound more assured then he feels.

"Oook." Soda doesn't look confident at all as he takes the bowl off the end of the bed, most of the can still remainin'. "But, Dar?" He pauses until Darry looks back up at him.

"What is it, Pepsi?"

"We'd make it happen. It ain't a drain if it means we can fix you up."

"Alright, kiddo." 'N they both know he doesn't believe it. "Now get your ass outta here before you get sick too."

Soda offers only a wobbly version of his usual grin as he pulls the door back open. "Hey now, I ain't ready to hand over that in charge title yet, young man."

...

"Darry? Darry, c'mon man." Darry wakes to rough hands shakin' him 'n immediately knows it's not Pony or Soda.

"Dar, you're scarin' me, c'mon." The second Darry opens his eyes the hands drop him. Dallas sits back, eyes wild, hair fallin' in his face, hands clenchin' 'n unclenchin' on his knees.

Darry blinks hard, realizes three things at the same time. His heart is beatin' so hard he can hear the blood as it rushes in his ears. There's a name on his lips. Somethin' startin' with an M he knows before he has to ask. His throat is sore, 'n not from all the hackin' he's been doin'. The kind you get from screamin'.

He opens his mouth to answer 'n immediately brings up the contents of his stomach into the bucket Soda had left when he brought dinner. Dallas flies to his side, bony hand restin' on Darry's back. "Shit, Darry."

Darry squeezes his eyes shut, groans. The second he stops feelin' like heavin' around nothin' he sits back 'n refocuses on Dallas. "Shit, kid. I'm sorry. Are you ok?"

"Am I? Dar, I was worried about you, man. I'm fine." But he's still got a flash in his eyes Darry knows, the restless way his spins his ring around his finger. He opens one arm 'n Dallas hesitates before slidin' over 'n droppin' his head down to Darry's shoulder.

"Was I havin'... a nightmare?" He doesn't need to ask. He knows. They run in the family. Darry was just better at keepin' 'em locked down.

"Yeah, man. You were, uh, callin' for Mrs. C." He had figured. He lets out a long breath 'n rests his head down on Dallas', their temples together.

"You sure you're alright, kid?" Dallas presses his elbow against Darry's ribs 'n Darry does them both a favor 'n pulls him flush against his side.

"Yeah, man, I'm sure." They're quiet for a few moments. They don't need to say anythin'. "I'm glad Soda's asleep. Pony wanted to sleep in here but I told him no way, man, that kid's annoyin' when he's not sick."

Darry chuckles 'n lays back down. Dallas flips around a few times before settlin'. He's got the minimum amount of contact with space to have none. Darry lets out a huff of a laugh. He gets the touch thing from Pony, no contest.

"Thanks for wakin' me up, kid."

"Yeah, well, don't mention it. You were thrashin' around 'n takin' up my whole side of the bed 'n shit so I kinda had to." Darry laughs again 'n doesn't mention Dallas' doin' what he does best: pretendin' everythin' is ok. His migraine flares so bad he feels like his skull might just crack in half to remind him that's not the case.

"Dal, I don't want you catchin' this. Why don't you go elbow over Soda tonight?" When he twists to look at Darry he's got that look in his ice-chip eyes that tell Darry arguin' is pointless. He may not have gotten his stubbornness from the Curtis' but he damn well fit right in.

"Don't mention it."

...

Darry has his feet on the floor before he can fully process anythin'. He blinks his eyes, rubs at them blearily. Lets out a sigh when his stomach turns over. He's gettin' real sick of the wakin' up 'n driftin' off thing. Mostly 'cause every time he was up he expects to feel better 'n that is never the case.

He glances at the clock at his bedside. A little before six. Like clockwork. Darry never needed to set alarms. He just woke up when he was meant to. Pony had complained about that for years. 'N Darry, in turn, had complained about his obnoxious alarm clocks.

It takes a moment for him to realize he's suddenly ravenous. He's so goddamn relieved he could cry.

Dallas is gone but that's to be expected. Dallas was an oddly early riser. He would go to sleep at two 'n still wake up before Darry. Darry creeps into the kitchen 'n finds Dallas where he always is, curled up in the window sill. He also finds Soda, awake again.

"Hey lil' buddy, what are you doin' awake?" Soda whips around, still half asleep. He looks so soothed for a moment, the stress fallin' out of his shoulders. Then he gets a good look at Darry.

"What are you doin' out of bed?" Soda shrugs his DX shirt around on his shoulders, takes the coffee Dallas offers him.

"I've gotta go to work, kiddo. I'm feelin' better." Darry grins, holds his head stiffly 'n walks around the side of the table. Dallas jumps off the counter 'n, between the two of them, manage corner him.

"Nuh uh, no siree. I let you go to work yesterday 'n look where that got you." Darry sighs, lets Soda manhandle him down into a chair like just standin' too much could make him keel over 'n die. Darry won't admit he might be right.

"Soda, I love you. We can't afford this." Soda shoots Dallas a look Darry can't read. And that unsettles him.

"Don't worry, Dar. We got it covered. Plus, Soda already called you in sick so it's too late now." Dallas turns around 'n slides an egg that is somehow both over 'n underdone across the table. So Soda cooked. Darry snakes a hand out 'n snatches both of their wrists. Dallas jumps a lil' but neither look particularly surprised.

"This 'Got it covered' shit legal?" He fixes them both with the sternest look he can manage. His appetite is slippin' away from him again 'n he hates to admit it but Soda's probably right. Another look between the two of them 'n Darry gives them a shake.

"Look, Dar. Don't worry about it." Darry lets out an exasperated sigh 'n Dallas rolls his eyes. "Yes, it's legal. Soda 'n I are just pickin' up extra shifts, ok? Glory, you wouldn't let God have his second comin' without callin' you first."

Darry lets out a sigh of relief 'n chuckles. "Since when did you get religious, Dallas Winston?"

"Since the Devil thought it'd be funny to dump me in the middle of Tusla, Oklahoma with you bunch." Dallas scuffs his foot on the tile 'n Darry's laughs become a hackin' cough. Soda 'n Dallas glance at each other again.

"Look, you two, I appreciate it. But I'm not gonna make you work extra to pick up my slack. I'll just call back. I can go in." Soda sighs 'n sinks down into the chair across from his brother.

"Darry, just let us do this, alright?" He fiddles with his shirt, the mug, a curl of his bangs. "You do enough, Dar. Let us just do this."

No, he thinks, I never do enough.

Darry looks his kid brothers over again. Feels that familiar kick that he will never deserve this. "Fine." He swallows bile as it rises up his throat. "Fine. I'll stay home."

"And you won't do any housework- or anythin' Pony wants." Soda bounces back instantly waggin' his finger 'n grinnin', but that's how Soda's always been. "I better come back to this house a disaster!"

"Yessir." Darry throws his hands up, hesitantly tries for the eggs again.

"Steve's comin' in after school so if you need anythin' call Two, OK?" Darry nods again 'n Soda grins 'n pours him a glass of water.

"I'm gonna let Pony know we're headed out." Dallas disappears down the hall 'n Darry can hear him pokin' at the kid 'n when that doesn't work, drag the kid out of bed. In the literal fashion.

"OW!"

"Are the eggs ok? I cooked 'em." Darry goes for the least runny bite he can get.

"Great, kiddo. Thank you." He snaps Soda up 'n drops a kiss to his messy hair.

"-'n if I hear about you bein' a brat I swear to God-"

"Pony'll be stayin' here. I tried to get him to go but..." Soda trails off 'n they both hear the distinctive sound of two bodies hittin' the floor.

"I don't want him here on my account. He's not skippin' school if he ain't sick." Darry swallows his bite 'n bile crawls up his throat immediately. Soda watches him carefully.

"Well, if you wanna fight with the kid I won't get in you're way. But, uh, well you know how Pony is." He did. His migraine burns along the back of his head. Please Pony, he feels a little guilty but it doesn't stop him from thinkin', don't be yourself.

Dallas 'n Pony appear in the kitchen again, both tousel-headed 'n scowlin'. The second Pony lays eyes on Darry, however, he lets out a soft little noise of relief 'n throws himself into Darry's arms.

"Hey, kid." Darry runs a hand through his hair 'n pulls him into his lap.

"Dar, you're ok." He tucks his head under Darry's chin 'n Darry smiles. Maybe he should get sick more often.

"Well, don't be too happy. I'm gonna tell you somethin' you're not gonna like 'n I'm not fightin' on it." Pont leans back, furrows his brows.

"Ok?"

"You're goin' to school today. I'm not gonna have you skippin' for my sake. I'll be fine alone, Pone." Pony's face scrunches up into a scowl again.

"But-" Dallas clears his throat 'n Pony snaps his mouth shut. "Fine." He clambers away from Darry 'n back out into the hall, not quite managin' to avoid the whack to the back of the head Dallas sends him with a smirk.

"Glory, you 'n Soda run a tight ship, huh?" Dallas grins, shrugs on his jacket.

"Well, can't have the kid turnin' into a knucklehead 'cause you have to call out of havin' a stick up your ass for one day." Pony 'n Darry let out twin noises of indignation, Pony's comin' from somewhere around the corner. Soda 'n Dallas both howl.

"Watch it, you two. Once I get better I'm gonna have to beat your fool heads in." Darry rests his head on his hand, proppin' his elbow on the table. Glory, why did bein' sick make him so damn tired?

"Have to catch us first!" Soda splits into a toothy smile 'n slips out the screen door, snappin' the keys off the counter. "Don't you dare do nothin'- remember!"

"C'mon Pony! Leave now or walk!" Dallas shouts into the hall 'n Pony comes flyin' back out with his bag. He only stops long enough for Darry to press a kiss to his temple. Dallas kicks him in the ass 'n Pony turns back around to sock him in the ribs.

"Get better, Dar!"

"Yeah, 'n call Buck's if you need me." Darry rolls his eyes 'n follows them to the door, shuttin' it behind them.

"Somehow I'll manage. Glory, y'all have become frettin' hens!" Soda cracks up, squawks 'n flaps his hands. Pony shakes his head but can't hide his grin. "Love y'all."

"Love ya, Dar!"

"Yeah, man."

"Get better, Darry!"

The truck pulls out of the drive too fast 'n zips down the street. The second it vanishes around the corner exhaustion hits Darry again. He ducks back inside 'n is in bed before the sound of Soda gunnin' the engine is too far to hear.

...

The smell of dinner wakes Darry up. When his stomach flips it has nothin' to do with sickness. God, it smells good.

He kicks the blanket off 'n almost cries when he isn't swelterin' or shiverin'. When he gets to his feet his head doesn't swim. Glory, it doesn't even hurt. Heavensake, he'd forgotten how good it felt to not have a headache.

He eases the door open 'n the sound of an Elvis record they've nearly burned through skips on the player. It scratches 'n Darry can hear Steve 'n Dallas goin' back 'n forth over the new Hollies single or the Yard Birds. Dallas wins out 'n The Hollies drifts down the hall.

Darry pokes his head into the kitchen 'n Soda stops jabbin' at Two who was fixin' somethin' at the stove. He takes Darry in from head to toe 'n then grins wide. He looks exhausted but also younger than he has since the moment he came home to Darry 'n his bug.

Pony glances up from where he's workin' at his math homework 'n splits into a big smile.

"Dar!" He shoots out of his chair so fast he nearly knocks it over. Dallas 'n Steve duck into the kitchen from the living room both lookin' suddenly, jarringly relieved. Pony throws his arms around Darry 'n Darry pulls Soda into the hug.

"You feelin' better, Superman?" The smell of gasoline clings to both Steve 'n Soda. Horses to Dallas'. Pony's homework it half done. No one coercin' him. The meal Two's pullin' out of the oven had taken at least an hour of prep work. Darry knows from experience. 'N they're all lookin' at him.

"Yeah, you know? I am."

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