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It had been two days since Ponyboy had run away with Johnny. No one knew where they were, or if they were coming back anytime soon. Sodapop was terribly worried and he hadn't slept for the time being. After receiving a call from Darry, explaining the situtation and asking if you could come over to keep an eye on Soda for a little because Darry could not handle the weight of everything happening at once, you quickly made your way over to the Curtis house.
You parked in their driveway and turned the key in the ignition to turn the car off, calm but hurriedly, you opened the door and locked the car, then made your way to the front door and didn't bother to knock before letting yourself in. Darry, sitting in his armchair, glanced up in your direction and nodded toward the couch next to him where Sodapop layed, and his gaze was turned back to the television. Your eyes followed his direction. Soda hadn't looked up at the door and he wasn't watching the television; he was staring at the ceiling with a blank look on his face. This was far from his normal mood. Darry got up and left down the hallway to his bedroom.
You knelt down in front of Soda. His hands were folded together neatly over his chest and he blinked slowly. You touched his hair gently and he turned his head to you. "Y/n," he said softly, sitting up and reaching across his body to reach you. Giving him a soft, compassionate look, you embraced him in a hug. He hid his face in your neck and let out a sigh, content with the solace your presence brought.
Soda sniffled unintentionally, his eyes grew teary. "He'll be back," you reassured him, "don't worry. He's okay." He clutched on to your t-shirt tighter; you pulled him closer. "It'll be okay."
You rubbed his back and stood up. He sat up on the couch and looked up to you, eyes wide as tears slowly dropped down his pink-toned cheeks. "C'mon," you said, holding out a hand, "let's go to bed." He looked like he hadn't slept since Ponyboy had left, which you knew he hadn't. He took your hand and let you help him up, and he sulked across the hall to his bedroom.
"Will you stay?" He asked, a hopeless tone in his soft voice. You nodded and nudged him toward the bed. He laid down and you sat beside him. After taking your shoes off, you laid next to him.
"How are you?" you asked, turning to face him. "I mean, do you want to talk about it?" He held tightly onto the pillow which his head rested upon.
"I don't know," he said blankly.
"He'll be back. I'm sure he's okay." You gently grazed his cheek with your fingertips. He turned over, his back was to you now.
"Yeah," he sighed, "I hope."
You began running your fingers through his hair and not long after, he fell asleep, and you followed.
