ONE MONTH LATER

Airports always gave me anxiety for some reason. Maybe it was all the people and the hustle and bustle. Or maybe it was because I've always been terrified of airplanes. Either way, I was ready to be out of there the minute Sodapop and I walked in.

"What time does their plane land?" Soda asked as we sat down in the terminal.

"Seven, so any minute now."

It was another fifteen minutes or so before I heard someone cry, "Candice?" I turned in my seat and saw the twins walking through the gate, lugging their suitcases along with them. I jumped to my feet and ran to greet my brother and sister.

"Hey, guys!" I cried, pulling them into a tight embrace.

"Hey, Candy," Greg said.

"It's so good to see you, Can," Claire added.

"How was your flight?" I asked them as Sodapop walked over to join us.

"It was good! I slept most of the time," Greg informed.

"I finished a book."

"In a couple of hours? Damn."

"Well, I had already read about half of it," Claire said dismissively. "It's a good thing I packed more to read while we're here."

"Hey, Sodapop!" the twins greeted in unison.

"Hey!" he replied, giving them each a hug. "Long time, no see."

"No kidding," said Greg. "You got buff since the last time I seen you."

"'Saw', Greg," Claire said, rolling her eyes at him.

"Whatever."

"Hey, let's go. We can catch up on the way to my apartment. I don't wanna run up a bill on the parking meter," I said, leading my family toward the airport exit.

Sodapop drove my car so that I could spend the whole car ride talking without having to worry about not paying attention to the road.

"How's school?"

"Good. We both got straight A's."

"Wow, really?" I asked.

"Well, I got a C in English," said Greg. "But everything else, I got all A's."

"How are the grandparents?" I asked timidly. I didn't quite have the greatest relationship with them, considering the fact they didn't even want to let me see Greg and Claire after my mother passed away. They changed their minds once I turned eighteen, but before then, I could barely even have a phone call with the twins.

"They're fine. Grandma's weird, though. She forgets a lot anymore. She drove to the grocery store the other night and totally forgot what she went there for."

"That's strange."

"Yeah. She's fine, but just every so often she seems to not realize what's going on. Grandpa wants to take her to the doctor to get her seen about, but she doesn't want to."

"Hope she's okay," I said, exchanging a look with Soda. "So, hey, on Christmas, we're gonna do a small thing at my place, and then we're all gonna go over to Darry's for dinner. That sound alright to you guys?" I asked, changing the topic completely.

"Yeah! We haven't seen those guys in forever."

"Ah, yeah. They're all dying to see you guys again," Sodapop told them, glancing into the rearview mirror at them.

We finally arrived at my apartment around seven-forty-five. It usually didn't take that long to get from my house to the airport, but around the holidays, the city traffic just gets worse.

"I'm exhausted," Claire complained.

"I'm not," said Greg.

"Probably because you had a four-hour long nap, you nimrod."

"Hey," I laughed. "I'll make up the bed. I have a pullout couch. We can put up the Christmas tree tomorrow. I called off work so I could spend the whole weekend with you guys."

"It sucks you don't have a vacation time," said Claire. "We haven't seen you since our birthday."

"I know. But I gotta pay the bills somehow."

Sodapop and I helped the kids lug their stuff inside to my apartment.

"Ah, it's so toasty in here."

"I turned the heat on before we left."

Soda and I got to work setting up the couch bed for them while they got comfortable.

"You can set your suitcases inside the other room if you want," I told them. "It's across the way from my room, just down the hall there."

"Okay," Greg said and he and Claire toted their bags off to store in the writing room.

"You guys hungry?" I called to them. "I made brownies earlier and there's leftover spaghetti. I could heat something up for you."

"Nah, I'm not," said Claire, sounding uncertain.

"What? You haven't eaten all day!" Greg said, giving her a weird look.

"Yeah, I did. I had a huge salad for lunch."

"When?"

"When we were waiting to board our plane."

"I don't remember that..."

"Probably because you've slept since then."

Greg just shrugged. I looked between them a few times.

"You hungry, Greg?"

"No, but a brownie does sound amazing right now."

Claire helped me lay down the blankets on the couch while Greg went to raid my kitchen. Boys always eat like they're never gonna get another chance to again. Catching anything to eat over at the Curtis place was always hit or miss. Sometimes you were lucky to catch some leftovers, but most other times you were shit out of luck.

Once the bed was all set up and I made them brush their teeth, they got comfortable. Claire had pulled out another book to start, one which appeared to already have a number of dog ears in the pages.

"Soda and I will be just down the hall. Come get us if you need anything."

"Thanks, sissy," Claire said. I gave both of them hugs before Soda and I retired to bed as well.

"Soda," I said as I closed the door behind us. "I'm concerned."

"About your grandma?"

"Yeah. Do you think that's serious?"

"Well, I mean she is seventy. Old people forget shit all the time."

"No, I mean... How do you go to the store and have no clue why you're there? That sounds alarming. And the fact it's bad enough my grandpa wanted to take her to the doctor... ? Could it be something more than just 'oh, I forgot I needed toothpaste'?"

"I don't know. What would we do if it was serious?"

"I've been thinking about this for awhile... I wanna see if I can have total guardianship of them. I know they're thirteen, but they'd be closer to me and they'd be under better supervision than them. You know?"

"Are you sure? That's a huge step."

"I mean, I practically raised them once my mom became best friends with Jack Daniels. And I have a full-time job. I have some money saved up... I don't know how much a small house would cost, but it would we worth looking into..."

Soda gave me a half smirk. "I can't wait for you to open your Christmas present now," he said.

"Why? That was random."

"Just wait and see."

"What do you think?"

"About which part?"

"All of it."

"Well, about the house part, I think I can cover that. About you becoming guardian of them, I think you should do what you feel is right. And whatever you decide, I'll be there to support you a hundred percent."

I smiled up at Soda. "I love you." He pulled me into him and kissed the top of my head.

"I love you. Let's talk more about this tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded, then yawned. "I'm exhausted."

"Let's go to sleep, alright, doll?"

"Yeah." I changed into a long sleeved shirt of Soda's and a pair of cotton shorts. I fell asleep pretty much as soon as my head hit the pillow.

I woke up to muffled screams. When I rolled over, I saw it was Soda. He seemed to be writhing in his sleep like he was being tortured or something.

"Soda," I whispered, grabbing his hand. He screamed before pushing himself upright and out of the pillow.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He turned to me and relaxed a little. "Sorry, babe." He rolled over to lay on his back, his tags making that chain noise as they fell from his chest down onto the mattress next to his neck.

"It was just a dream," I told him in a light whisper. I rubbed his bare back and his shoulders slumped. He sniffled a little. "You okay?"

"Yeah. It was just so surreal. I thought you..." He trailed off. "Sorry I woke you up."

"It's okay." I wrapped my arms around his middle and we both laid back down again, my head now on top of his chest. My body rose and fell with his as we both took deep breaths.

"What were you dreaming?" I asked him.

"Some fucking commies broke in," he said. "And I couldn't save you."

"Well, I'm alright. See?"

"I know." He gave me a weak smile before grabbing my hand and rubbing it lightly with his thumb. He stopped when he noticed the scar tissue there.

"What's this?"

"That's from... the fire," I said, moving my head so I could look at him. "When Johnny, and Ponyboy, and Dally, and I saved those little kids."

"Oh, god. You four scared the shit out of us that day. When I found out y'all were in the hospital..."

"My hand's fine now. Sometimes I forget that scar's even there," I say quickly, hoping to keep him from getting upset. "I have lots of scars."

"Hey, d'you know what?" he said, his mood perking up instantly.

"What?"

"We should get tattoos."

"Huh? Like, couples' tattoos?"

"Well, not necessarily. But we could get tattoos together at the same time."

I thought about it for a minute. It had never crossed my mind to get a tattoo, but it did sound kinda cool. What would I even get?

"What would you get?" I asked him, feeling unsure.

"I don't know. Maybe my family's initials. My family means so much to me. Especially my parents, you know? I don't think I would have turned out the way I did had it not been for their constant love and support. I genuinely think I'm the luckiest man in the world. I got a helluva good family, a smart and beautiful girlfriend, and I was one of few who got to come home and really embrace that. I feel like I took everything for granted before. And then I was out there in the jungle and..." I could feel Soda's mood switch again.

"You carried on," I said.

"Huh?"

"When life got tough, you carried on. You could have gave up so many times and yet you kept going. And because of your stubbornness, you came home to us."

"Carry on." He seemed to be thinking long and hard for a minute. I had to call his name to snap him out of whatever daze he was in. "I know what I want," he smiled.

Another half hour or so passed before Soda was totally passed out again. I sneaked very quietly out of bed and made my way across the hall to the writing room. I found a box of old stuff and rifled through it until I found what I was looking for. That stupid article about us after that fire.

Below our pictures, the article read:

'Delinquent' youths turned heroes after daring fire rescue.

Tulsa-- Six youngsters are alive today thanks to three young men and a young woman, who leaped into a burning abandoned rural church near Windrixville yesterday afternoon, grabbed the children and tossed them to safety before the building collapsed.

Three of the four teenagers, identified as 'Ponyboy' Curtis, Johnny Cade, and Dallas Winston were taken by Ambulance to a Tulsa hospital while the young woman, Candice Marshall, insisted she drive herself. All four teenagers were admitted for burns and injuries received during the rescue effort.

A hospital spokesman said Cade was the most seriously hurt with burns all over his body and a broken back as a result of the flaming roof falling on top of him. Winston, Marshall, and Curtis were reported not seriously injured but were held for observation and treatment of their burns.

The article went on to tell about how the children were safely back with their families. I hadn't thought about it until now, but I wondered how those kids were doing now. They were lucky we'd shown back up at the church when we did, otherwise, it might have been all those little ones who had died.

Not that Dallas and Johnny dying made up for it, or anything.

I must have jumped a mile in the air when my sister came up behind me and said, "Whatcha reading?"

I'm surprised, still, that I didn't scream.

"Nothing," I said. "Just this article..."

Before I could put it away, Claire had it snatched from my hands and was reading it.

"''Delinquent' youths turned heroes after daring fire rescue'?" She looked up from the article. "And your picture is there? When did this happen?"

"Years ago. You and Greg were little."

"Why did I never know?"

"It was just something I didn't like to talk about. It was too painful to think of Johnny."

"Johnny? I kinda remember him."

"He died as a result of the fire. And Dallas went right after he did, but under totally different circumstances."

I didn't want to tell her how Dallas died. It had been seven years and I still couldn't look a fuzz in the face without seeing Dally's body crippling to the ground, his body riddled with gunshot wounds.

"What all happened that year?"

I scoffed. "I shit ton." She gave me a small smile. "Anyway, we should get in bed."

"I couldn't sleep. I woke up when I heard Sodapop scream."

"You heard that?" I hadn't thought he had screamed all that loud...

"I'm a super light sleeper."

"Oh."

"Maybe it's because of mom. You know when she'd get angry and start yelling..."

"Yeah," I said, not really wanting to talk about my mother right now. "Anyway, you should go back to sleep. We're gonna decorate the tree tomorrow. I can make meatloaf or something..."

"Eugh," Claire groaned.

"What? You don't like meatloaf?"

"I don't like meat."

"Oh. I didn't realize. Sorry. I can make something else for you. I can make a couple homemade pizza. Veggie and cheese just for you?"

She smiled a little. "That sounds pretty good." She let out a yawn, then readjusted her ponytail. "I'm gonna go on to bed then. You should get some sleep too, Candie."

"I will. Hopefully, Sodapop doesn't have any more bad dreams." I put my stuff away, back in the cedar chest, then stood up and Claire and I left the writing room. I gave her another hug before she went back to the living room and I to my own room.