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“Mail call! Curtis, Randle, I got another pile for you two.”
Sodapop rolled over in his cot and reached a hand out blindly. “Over here.”
The pile was dropped into Soda’s hand and the corpsman left, leaving Soda with Steve and their pile of letters.
“Steve, up and at ‘em,” Soda said, chucking a pair of socks at his best friend’s head. “We’ve got letters to read.”
“Ugh, shit,” Steve groaned but pushed himself up. “What we got this time?”
Soda thumbed through the pile. “One from Darry, one from Two-Bit, one from Ponyboy.”
“So the fuckin usual.”
“Like clockwork,” Soda confirmed. “Who you want first?”
“Anyone but the kid,” Steve said immediately.
Soda rolled his eyes. “I still don’t believe that you hate him.”
“Yeah well, fuck you,” Steve said.
“Here, take Two’s.” Soda passed the letter over and tore open Ponyboy’s letter to start with.
Dear Soda,
It snowed last night (not enough to stick, but there’s supposedly a big cold front moving in around Christmas that I'm holding out for) and it made me think of you. Do you remember that one winter where we got hit by a blizzard and we went sledding down that big hill behind the high school? I swear, I’ve never been as cold as I was when I landed in that snowbank. It was only a minute or so before you and Darry dug me out, but I thought I would die in that there, I was so cold. But I still always think about the way you and him took me home and all of us huddled all together on the ground in the living room with hot cider until I was warm again. Even Steve hugged me (hi asshole, I know you’re reading this).
I doubt you’re getting snow over there, but I hope at least you get to have some sort of Christmas party or something. Me and Darry put some presents in the mail but I don’t know how long it will take to get to you—sometimes our stuff gets to you in just a few weeks and other times it’s months. Pisses me off.
Christmas is in a few weeks (probably a few days by the time you get this) but I’m not that excited for it. It’s just not the same without you at home. I would even take Steve at this point, if only to make it all seem more normal. Maybe next year, right? This time next year, your tour will be done and you and Steve will both be home and we can just continue our lives as normal. That’s what I’m asking Santa for.
I love you, Soda. I hope you have a Merry Christmas.
Love,
Ponyboy M Curtis
It took a lot for Soda not to cry. Ponyboy’s letters always did that to him. He missed Darry fiercely, but he hated not being able to be around Ponyboy. After everything they had been through, he was even more protective of his younger brother than he was before. He knew the rest of the gang felt the same, but it was different for Soda. They had always been close, but after Johnny and Dally’s deaths, Soda was the only one able to bring Pony out of his panic attacks with any regularity. He was his best friend, his baby brother, and it hurt that he wasn’t there to see him grow up.
“Two-Bit’s writing drunk again,” Steve said, cutting through Soda’s sadness like a hot knife with precision timing. Soda never knew if he did it on purpose to pull Soda out of his own head or just because he was like that, but it always worked. That was one of the many reasons he loved Steve Randle. More than he should.
“What’s he saying?” If Soda’s voice broke, Steve was kind enough not to mention it.
“Dumbass spent a whole page telling me about some broad he’s screwing. There was no fuckin punctuation.”
Soda snorted. “Yeah, sounds about right. What’s the gal’s name?”
“Darla? I think? I don’t know, his handwriting is shit as always.”
“Yeah, well, it’s Two-Bit. What else can you expect?” Soda gently folded Ponyboy’s letter and put it back in the envelope before moving to grab Darry’s.
As he did, he noticed another one in the stack. It was actually two of them, addressed to Steve and Soda respectively, from the Army’s central office.
Soda’s heart lodged itself in his throat. He had seen these letters before, held in the hands of the other boys in their squadron as they lay dead on the ground with their discharge papers and dog tags as their only comfort. Even moreso, he thought of the few boys they knew that actually made it out. Sent to catch flight upon flight until they made it to wherever they called home. Some place where it was warm and there were people who loved them there. People like Ponyboy and Darry and Two-Bit Mathews. People like Steve.
“Soda? You good?”
Soda wordlessly handed the envelope with Steve’s name to the man. Steve froze, staring at the letter. Eventually, he swallowed and looked up at Soda. “You have one too?”
“Yeah,” Soda croaked.
“Shit.” Steve scratched the back of his head. “How much you figure we’re still asleep?”
“Only one way to find out.” Soda met Steve's eyes. “On three?”
Steve nodded and they counted down together.
On behalf of the Department of Defense, you will be honorably discharged….
“We’re going home!” Steve cheered.
“We’re going home,” Soda whispered.
“Shit, it’s soon too,” Steve said. “Mine says the 23rd.”
Soda scanned his almost frantically. “Mine too. That's the day after tomorrow.”
“We better get packing.” Steve stood and pulled his duffle out from under his cot. He began throwing things in at random, not bothering to fold any of his fatigues, just mixing them in with his civvies like getting it done would make them leave faster.
A thought hit Soda like a lighting bolt. He swayed on his cot, nearly falling forward. “Steve.”
Steve paused his frantic packing and looked over at Soda. “Yeah buddy?”
“We leave on the 23rd. The flight's, what, eighteen hours?”
“Something like that, yeah. Why?”
Soda felt his eyes fill with tears. He couldn’t stop them and wouldn’t try even if he could. He didn’t have to hide from Steve. “We’ll be home for Christmas.”
“Shit.” Steve breathed. “I guess we will.”
*
Things went quickly after that. They had a few more patrols, closer calls than either of them wanted, but then it was the 23rd. After a going away party (and god, Soda would truly miss some of these guys--he hoped he could find some of them after this goddamn war was done), they were off on the least comfortable plane ride of their lives.
“What are you most excited for when we get home?” Soda asked somewhere around hour four in the air, him and Steve pressed shoulder to shoulder in the back of the carrier.
“Actual fucking food,” Steve grumbled. He shifted in his seat before adding, “Darry’s chocolate cake.”
“Shit yeah, chocolate cake,” Soda practically moaned. He could almost taste the frosting on his tongue.
“Two-Bit might actually let us have the whole thing,” Steve continued. “Darry’ll have to make two.”
“Yeah, one for you and one for me.”
Steve snorted. “Oh yeah.”
“We didn’t even have time to warn them that we’re coming,” Soda said. “We’re really going to surprise them.”
“Means we’re gonna have to walk home,” Steve countered. “No one’s gonna pick us up from the bus station.”
Soda just rolled his eyes. “We’ve been marching for two years. We can handle the mile walk home.”
“Don’t mean I’m excited about it,” Steve said. He leaned further into Soda’s space, settling his head on Soda’s shoulder and closing his eyes.“First thing I do when we get back is lay on that couch. I’m so tired of cots.”
Soda nodded and leaned his head on top of Steve’s. “Maybe I’ll go sleep in a real bed.”
“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “That will be real nice.”
They drifted off after that, dreaming of home.
*
After a terrible flight, another flight after that, and a bus ride, they finally made it back to Tulsa. The ground was covered in a thick layer of snow, a rarity for the time of year, but it just added to the magic of the moment. It was nine A.M. on Christmas morning, it was snowing and they were home.
Soda felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest.
The roads were mostly deserted as they started their walk towards home, each going slow as they took in the sights of a home that they had not seen since they left for boot camp. Some things had changed, like a new sign on the grocery store, different displays for the toy shop, a fresh set of movies playing in the theater, but overall, everything was the same as when they left. The outline of the streets were the same, the buildings were the same, all the hallmarks of home were still there and that was what mattered.
Soda wanted to cry as they passed the cemetery, the last place on Earth that held his parents and two of his closest friends. He liked to think that all four of them would be happy for them.
“Hey!” A shout pulled Soda out of his melancholia, and both him and Steve turned to see the familiar sight of Tim Shepard leaning out of his old Chevy. His eyes lit up (as much as a hood’s could) and he grinned. “Curtis, Randle, that you?”
Soda couldn’t help but grin back. “In the flesh!”
Tim let out a hoot that made him seem much younger than he was. “Your gang know yet?”
“Nah, man.” Steve shook his head. “Too quick of a turnaround so we’re surprising ‘em.”
“Christmas fuckin miracle,” Tim said. “Well, I just saw the three of them at the store. Probably halfway back to your house by now. Y'all need a ride?”
Soda shook his head. “Nah, we’ll walk. It’s not far from here. Besides, I’m sure Curly and Angela are waiting for ya.”
“You didn’t hear?” Tim said. “Angela skipped town earlier this year. Got knocked up and headed west with the bozo. Probably out on the coast by now.”
Steve whistled low. “Shit.”
Tim just shrugged. “It’s whatever. Curly’s still annoying as shit so it’s not like much has changed.”
“It’s a little brother’s job to annoy their big brother.” Soda said with a smile. Sometimes, back in Vietnam, the only thing that helped him survive was the thought of his brothers—Ponyboy and him heckling Darry, him and Darry carrying Ponyboy around like he was still a little boy, the entire gang just sitting in the livingroom of the house, playing poker and laughing at each other.
The longing in his chest reached a fever pitch. He needed to see his brothers. They were so close.
“We better get going,” he said, grabbing Steve’s elbow. “Catch ya later, Shepard.”
“Later, Curtis. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas!” They called and Tim sped away, leaving Steve and Soda to continue their march.
The closer they got, the more antsy they both became. Steve was fiddling with the strap of his duffle with a vengeance, almost tearing the woven end of it to shreds before Soda grabbed his hand.
“Queer,” Steve muttered but Soda knew that Steve was just being a dick, as always. You could only make out with your best friend so many times before the two of you just became queers together. They had to hide it, yes, but Soda chose to view that not as hiding but just having something private between them. Their family knew and that was enough for him.
They walked together, fingers intertwined and hidden from view by their duffle bags and soon the streets turned into theirs. The houses became more run down, everything turned shabbier. Soda couldn’t figure out if it all looked magical because of the snow or the fact that he had been gone for so long, but it made his heart beat a chorus that sounded a lot like home.
And then, like a ray of sunlight after two years of storms, were his brothers.
They were ahead of them in the distance, Ponyboy walking in between Darry and Two-Bit, all three of their arms loaded with groceries. Darry had always hated driving in the snow so it was no surprise that they had decided to brave walking to the store and back for this Christmas dinner.
The sight of even the back of their heads was enough to make Soda take off running to them, snow and ice be damned. He could hear Steve taking off after him, their footsteps falling in beat together like always.
The others must’ve lost their edge because it was almost child's play for Soda to snatch the grocery bag out of Two-Bit’s hand, bounding around and in front of the other boys with a whoop as he snooped through the contents of the plastic. “A whole ham for dinner? Man, this is gonna be the best Christmas ever!”
“I want the ham!” Steve shouted and gleefully shoved his way in between Ponyboy and Two-Bit to tackle Soda.
“Shit, get the hell off me!” Soda said but he was laughing as he hit the snow bank, just barely able to see Darry, Two-Bit and Ponyboy, all staring at them with their mouths open.
Soda pushed Steve off of him and looked at his older brother. Darry was still just staring at him as Soda grinned. “Can we have cake after dinner?”
Steve’s head shot up. “You promised me two cakes, Curtis!”
“I’m working on it!” Soda snapped but still grinned up at his brother. “Two cakes after dinner? For me?”
There was a moment of silence where the five of them just stared at each other. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, just a heavy one, the type only possible when you have as many years of history between you as they do.
The startling part was the moment that Darry’s eyes filled with tears.
Soda could count on one hand the amount of times in his life he had seen his older brother cry. A few times when they were both still small, once in highschool after a terrible fight with Paul, and twice during that horrible week when Pony and Johnny were missing.
But Darry’s eyes were full of tears and when he spoke, his voice came out choked. “Soda.”
Soda just smiled. “Hey Dar. You miss me?”
“Did I—“ Darry stuttered. “You little shit.” And then Soda had an arm full of big brother crushing him back into the snow.
There was laughter in the air and Soda couldn’t tell who it was coming from but he didn’t care because his big brother was there , in his arms and Soda felt so small and so big all at once.
“God, let this be real,” Darry whispered. “Please let this be real.”
“It’s real,” Soda said. “Merry Christmas, big brother.”
“Holy shit,” he heard Ponyboy breathe and then their pile expanded, an explosion of brothers. Ponyboy was pressed against his side and Two-Bit was grabbing his elbow even as he tried to smother Steve in his arms.
They were all babbling, words running too fast to be anything beyond just an outlet of emotions. Soda didn’t know how long they were out there before eventually Steve groaned. “Can we go back to the house now? I haven’t sat on a couch in two goddamn years.”
That spurred Two-Bit of all people into action. The man practically leapt up, snatching his grocery bag and Steve’s duffle off the ground. “Whatever the Princess wants, the Princess gets!”
“Hey, gimme that!” Steve hollered but Soda saw the smile on his face as Two-Bit took off, Steve right behind him.
Darry laughed, a bright and open thing that Soda wished he could bottle and save forever.
“Just like nothing’s changed,” Ponyboy said absently.
Soda leaned back and took in the sight of his younger brother, fully for the first time since he left.
He was tall, taller than Soda by at least an inch or two. His hair was long, the way it was after Windrixville, but all traces of burnt blonde were gone, replaced by healthy auburn hair once again. He had some muscle on him, just a little more than most track players like him would have but still just on the scrawny side, as to be expected for an 18 year old who grew up with too little food and too little time to be a kid. He was different than Soda remembered, but in a way that he still recognized as his younger brother.
“Nah,” Soda found himself saying. “Everything changed. We just changed with it.”
Ponyboy bumped his shoulder against his. “Yeah, we did.”
*
Later, they settled into the house like it was a four star resort. Steve was sunk into Darry’s arm chair, a rare privilege for all of them, and Soda was sprawled out on the couch. They had both offered to help make dinner but were shot down by Darry. Their exact instructions were to “sit and take a goddamn break.”
Soda had gotten pretty good at following orders, so he let himself drift off to sleep.
That was his mistake.
There were bullets flying everywhere. In the distance, he could hear the sound of grenades growing ever closer. He scrambled for his rifle in the dirt around him, not understanding why it wasn’t strapped to his back the way it was supposed to be.
“Steve!” he called out, searching for him in the darkness. “Steve, I don’t have my rifle! Steve!”
“Soda, come on,” said a voice next to him. It was familiar, but not who he was looking for. He couldn’t find it in himself to care.
He caught sight of Steve across from him, hunkered down in the brush. His eyes were wide in fear. “Soda, move!”
High above him, Soda saw the grenade, arcing through the air like a firework. There wasn’t anywhere to go. He was trapped.
He watched as the grenade hit the ground and the world exploded.
Soda jackknifed off the couch, hitting the ground with a choked off noise. There were hands on his back and sides, pulling him against a strong, warm body, but it wasn’t who he was looking for. He needed Steve, needed to make sure the other was okay and not lost somewhere out there far from home.
“I can’t get him to calm down,” said a voice that he distantly recognized as Two-Bit’s.
“Soda,” came Ponyboy’s voice, and his hands settled gently on Soda’s shoulder. “You aren’t there anymore. You’re at home, with me and Darry and Two-Bit. Steve’s here too, he’s just in the bathroom.”
“Gotta see him,” Soda choked out. All he could see was green jungle, stretching all around him. “Gotta make sure he’s safe.”
“He’s safe,” Ponyboy promised. “You brought each other home. You’re both safe.”
“Gotta make sure.”
“I’ll go get him.” he heard Two-Bit say.
“Two’s getting him,” Ponyboy repeated. His hands were running simple circles on Soda’s back, like a mirror of all the years that they had shared together in the night, Soda calming Pony down from his own nightmares. It made Soda feel small in a way he hadn’t since he was young. “Breathe with me, Soda, please.”
Ponyboy pulled Soda’s hand to his chest, forcing him to feel his younger brother's lungs expand, slowly but surely. It brought him down, forcing him to calm. He still felt the panic sizzling at the edges of his consciousness, but it was fading. It wouldn’t go away entirely until he had Steve in his arms, but it was helpful.
“There we go,” Ponyboy soothed. “You’re doing good.”
“We’re right here,” said Darry’s voice from somewhere behind him. He felt a familiar hand thread into his hair and he couldn’t help but lean into his older brother’s touch.
He heard the familiar sound of the shower cutting off in the bathroom and the loose board in the hallway creaking, and then Steve was in front of him. He was panting slightly from dashing down the hall, his hair was wet from the shower. He only had a towel around his waist and there was the familiar scrunch between his eyebrows that always showed up when he was concerned.
“Hey Soda,” he said softly, kneeling in front of him on the cold ground. “I’m right here.”
Soda launched himself at his boyfriend, grasping his shoulders with a desperation that he thought would never leave him. Steve was safe, he was safe, he was safe.
“Shh, quiet down, Pepsi,” Steve muttered. “We’re alright now. We’re out of there. We made it out.”
Soda let out a shuddering breath. Everything was coming back into focus, the familiar sight of his childhood living room bringing in waves of comfort he never could’ve fathomed before it all. He wondered if that was how Ponyboy felt that first morning after the church. All at once, the adrenaline left his body and he dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.
“There’s my Pepsi,” Steve said softly, carding his fingers through Soda’s hair. “Glory, I can’t wait for you to grow your hair back out. I’m sick of looking at army regs.”
That made Soda snort. “You’re one to talk, you look like a recruiting poster.”
“Fuck off, Curtis,” Steve said, but there wasn’t any heat behind it, just a deep fondness.
Soda shot a look at the others. They were all looking at them with a mixture of fondness and a little fear. He recognized the look from years of easing Ponyboy down from his own nightmares. It was a look of love, mixed with the pain of seeing someone you cared for going through something you can’t fully understand.
“Sorry about that, guys,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Darry shook his head. “Don’t apologize, Pepsi. Never.”
“But—“
“Soda,” Ponyboy cut in. “We spent years sharing the same bed because of my nightmares. It’s not an issue that you’re having some.”
Two-Bit just shrugged. “Bound to happen sometime. Can’t be the strong one forever, or else you end up emotionally constipated like Darry.”
“Hey!”
“You wanna shower off that nightmare stink, Soda?” Steve asked.
Soda nodded. “Yeah. I feel nasty.”
“No shit, we flew across the world and then you took a shit nap. Let’s go.” Steve stood, still holding his towel around his waist, and pulled Soda up with him.
“Hey, no funny business while you’re in there!” Darry said.
Ponyboy rolled his eyes. “Like you and Two-Bit aren’t just as bad.”
Soda and Steve whipped to look at Two-Bit and Darry. “You’re dating?”
Everyone froze. There was a moment of silence before Ponyboy broke it, falling over laughing.
“I wrote you a letter about it!” Two-Bit shouted, pointing a finger at Steve.
“I couldn’t read half your letters because your handwriting was so bad!” Steve defended himself.
“I also wrote you about it, Soda,” Darry said. “Sent it the same time as they did.”
Soda remembered Darry’s letter, still sitting unopened in his bag from the rush of getting ready to leave camp. He winced. “I opened our discharge papers first and kind of forgot about it.”
“You guys ain’t angry?” Darry said gruffly, not looking at Soda and Steve, instead just gripping Two-Bit’s thigh tightly.
Soda softened. “Nah, big brother. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
Slowly, Darry smiled. It was small, but genuine. “I am happy.”
“Good.” Steve nodded. “Now if everyone is done having stupid conversations, can I go finish my fuckin shower? I’m standing in a goddamn puddle.”
*
Steve and Soda took their shower together, washing away the physical remnants of their time away, even if Soda’s nightmare proved the mental ones would be staying for a long long time. They didn’t fool around. The temptation was there, but they were both too tired. It had been a long couple of days and there would be time. For the first time in years, they had time. They weren’t controlled by colonels and the military anymore. They were free, at long last. They had their whole lives ahead of them.
They had Christmas dinner with their family, none of them worried about exchanging presents or anything of the sort. They just sat and laughed together, trading decades old jokes and stories like they were new again. In a way they were. All of them had changed, in small and big ways over the course of the last several years. They caught each other up on things too small to be included in letters and too big to only explain once. There were tears, but not for long, words and touches of comfort overwhelming everything else.
Everything and nothing had changed. It didn’t matter in the end, though, because finally, finally, they were together.
They were home.