#so darry is stuck with a 100 dollar loan he can't pay back

[frantic-babbling]

"He was a good guy when he needed to be. And he was an awful one too and that was what Darry needed."

That's one cold line brrrrr

just a loan

Darry could still hear Soda and Pony crying in the bedroom. His heart ached at the sound and told him to go to them and be with them, they needed him. But instead he was pacing the kitchen and trying to figure out what the fuck he was going to do.

The social worker gave them grace, she let Pony and Soda stay until the funeral without Darry needing to do anything. They had buried their parents the day before and all of a sudden Darry was on a timer. 

He had until the next morning to prove himself to be a fit guardian. And part of that meant proving that he had enough money for three months of utilities and food.

His savings were drained by the funeral. Even with what was left of his college fund, all the spare cash he could find, and working double shifts since the accident, it wasn’t enough. 

The social worker was coming in the morning and if he couldn’t prove himself fit, the boys would be taken away then and there. Anger and fear and grief brewed inside of Darry. He didn’t know what to do. He wished more than anything that he could ask his dad for advice or cry onto his mom’s shoulder. 

He wanted to punch something until his knuckles split open. He wanted to scream and shout and curse everything. Instead he did the one thing he never wanted to do, ask for help. So Darry grabbed his keys and started driving. 

Since the accident, being behind the wheel scared Darry. He would never admit it to his brothers or anyone else, but alone in his dad’s truck, his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. What if this trip was the one that killed him and left Ponyboy and Sodapop alone. 

It took him longer than normal to get to Buck’s.

The music was loud and he could hear people shouting from the parking lot. Darry jumped out of the car and stalked right up to the door, his feet crunching in gravel. Without looking at anyone, he marched to the back staircase and up to Dally’s room. 

Before…well before the accident, he wasn’t a stranger to Buck's. There were nights when he let Two-Bit and Dally talk him into coming out with them and getting shit faced. It hadn’t led to his proudest moments, but it had been fun. He already knew that nights like that were a thing of the past.

He pounded on the door four times and was greeted with a disgruntled, “Fuck off!”

Darry fought not to let his frustration and anger get the best of him. “It’s me, Dally. Open up, I need to talk to ya.”

The door opened up a moment later and he was met with the thick scent of cigarettes. Dally had been at the funeral, he’d been right between the brothers and the rest of the congregation, making sure that no one overwhelmed them. He was a good guy when he needed to be. And he was an awful one too and that was what Darry needed. 

“What the fuck, man?” Dally asked as Darry pushed past him into the room. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your brothers?”

Darry paced the length of the small room, trying to take measured breaths. Finally he turned to Dally and said, “If I don’t get fifty dollars by tomorrow, Pony and Soda are going to be taken away. If anyone has that money, it’s you. And if-” Darry balled his hands into fists, “if you give me a loan for tomorrow, I’ll do whatever jobs you need me to and pay you back.”

Dally’s eyes widened as he stilled. “What the fuck?”

“Look, do you have the money or not? Because, like you said, I need to be with my brothers right now,” Darry snapped.

Dally crossed his arms, “You can’t do the shit that I do.”

“Why not? Because I’m not tough enough?” Darry demanded, almost chest to chest with Dally. “I’m trying to keep my kid brothers, I’ll do whatever the fuck I need to.”

“Exactly.” Dally shoved him, forcing Darry to stumble back. “I’ve been arrested so many fucking times, I’ve got the longest rap sheet of any grease in Tulsa.” He jabbed his finger at Darry’s chest. “If you get caught, they’ll take those boys away for sure.” 

“What the fuck am I supposed to do then?” Darry shouted. “If I don’t find the money by the morning, I might never see them again, don’t you fucking care-”

“Shut the hell up.”

Dally marched over to his bed, picked up his pillow and reached inside. Darry heard change jingling and the rustle of bills. After a moment, Dally pulled out a hundred dollar bill and shoved it against Darry’s chest. 

“Dal-”

“It’s not charity,” Dally said quickly. “You’re gonna pay me back with interest. But first, you take care of those kids. And you’re going to pay me with clean money, savvy?” Dally held out his hand for a shake. 

Darry paused for a second, but clasped Dal’s hand and shook it, “Thank you.”

Dally held his hand for a moment too long and said gruffly, “Don’t you ever fucking say that I don’t care.” He gave Darry a shove towards the door. 

When Darry got back home, he tucked the bill carefully between pages in his folder of documents to show the social worker in the morning. All at once, the stress seemed to sap out of him. He’d be able to keep his brothers right here. They’d be safe and together.

Darry crept to what used to be his and Soda’s bedroom. Since their parents died, they’d all been sleeping in the same room. Pony’s nightmares were awful and Soda could hardly close his eyes. It brought them all comfort to stay close.

When Darry opened the door, he saw his younger brothers curled up together under their mom’s quilt. Both boys had tears dried on their faces. Soda’s arms were wrapped tight around Pony, the younger boy almost obscured by Soda’s arms and the blankets.

Darry sat down on the edge of the bed. He took a deep breath. Soda squirmed a little in his sleep, but didn’t stir. He brushed a lock of hair from Soda’s face with a fond smile. He’d only been in charge for under a week and already he felt such protectiveness and love for his brothers, unlike anything he felt before.

There wasn’t enough room in the bed with the two of them, so Darry laid down on his makeshift bed on the floor. Sodapop had tried to protest it, saying Darry should have the bed, but Darry wouldn’t hear any of it. Soda was better at calming Ponyboy down.

Darry looked up at the plastered ceiling, taking deep breaths and counting backwards. It was a trick his mother taught him when he was a kid and struggled with insomnia.

Now, he used it to fall asleep in his grief. The next day was going to be important, he needed to be well rested for it.