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The Curtis’s

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“Darry!” Mrs. Curtis exclaimed in excitement, hugging her oldest son. He was snuggled up in a letterman jacket, class of ‘62 on the sleeve, nice jeans, and unscuffed shoes.

After all it was a special occasion, the snow on the ground, the Christmas tree beautifully lit up in the window of the house, which had a brand new coat of paint on it. Darry was home for Christmas, he saw the 10 year old Ponyboy come out and hug him, he smiled, watching Soda and Darrel Sr. Getting his luggage out of the truck before picking Pony up.

“I could’ve got that Dad” he spoke softly, wrapping his arm around soda in a loving embrace.

“It’s okay.” Darrel Sr. Mumbled softly, he was always soft spoken, but a loving man. Mrs. Curtis rushed into the house before rushing back out.

“Okay, my boys need to smile! Darrel get in the picture!” She said to her husband, her bright sense of humor made them smile as their dad leaned in, his straight as a stone face fading as the flash went off on the camera.

Once inside the house, the boys played bored games as his father sat reading, then dinner was ready by Mrs. Curtis calling out from the kitchen.

Darry smiled, deciding to be the last one to wash up on account of letting his younger siblings go first. He looked at himself in the mirror, his dark hair perfectly slicked back, his skin beautiful and not worn. He dried his hands and made his way to the dining room.

The color of the room wasn’t bright and cheer anymore. The walls were drab, and boring, anxiety began to settle in his chest as he walked to the small dinning room area and found the empty table and kitchen. He was panicking now.

“Soda! Pony?!” He shouted, running through the house, checking every room. “Mom! Dad?!” He stopped at the front door, the cop standing there.

“Are you Darrel Curtis Jr.?” He asked, the snow outside was pounding. “Sorry to tell you this, but your parents are no longer here…”

You woke up to your loving, long time boyfriend, Darrel Curtis screaming and crying. You knew what it was as your smaller hands grabbed his big, swinging arms, but you weren’t fast enough. He landed a blow into your cheek, about knocking you out the bed. Soda rushed in and grabbed him, holding him down and waking him up in a soothing voice.

Your eyes were watery but you got back to him, the bruise forming on your cheek. You cupped his cheeks gently, kissing his forehead, you could barely see him, which you didn’t mind, it hurt your feelings to see him like this.

“Baby it’s okay, we’re right here.” You spoke softly, Soda eased off of him as he woke up.

“I’ll be right back (y/n)...” soda mumbled quietly, walking out.

You wiped Darry’s eyes his long dark hair was sticking to his forehead before you softly pushed it back out of his face, it stuck without the hair grease they used, but it was the sweat from his night terror. He went a little pale before pulling you into a bearhug, his stomach was turning “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m okay.” You tried to reassure him but he wasn’t about to accept your forgiveness.

“I’m the one who hit you, (your first name)” his voice was firm as Soda came back with an ice pack, Darry turned on a lamp and held the small pack wrapped in a thin rag to your cheek, he pulled you in his lap as he sighed.

“Do you need a glass of water or anything Darry?” Pony asked, leaned in the doorway.

“I’m fine, you guys get back to bed, you have school and work.” He ordered them and they obeyed, Darry sighed, pulling the ice pack away and seeing the purple swelling under your right eye, then gently pushed it back to your face. “I’m sorry.”

You sighed, about to argue with him. He didn’t have a right to feel bad, but sadly, you were use to all the bruises.

“Okay, I know, you keep telling me.” You took the pack from his hand and turned to face him “let’s talk about your dream.”

“No. It’s old news and I don’t want to talk about it anyways.”

“Darrel…” you sighed, getting up to look at the bruise and yikes, it was a big one.

“I’m sorry, but it’s just stupid stuff I dream of on occasion…” he followed you, not about to let you be alone after hitting you. You walked into his chest as he embraced you.

“It’s okay… come on, we both have work and school tomorrow…” you mumbled, kissing his cheek. “Back to bed.” You smiled, mimicking him. He grinned a little and laid down with you, his big hands stroking through your (h/l) (h/c) hair. The bruise was still throbbing but you ignored it. It wasn’t his fault.

You heard him snoring after a while and went to the bathroom to pee. You shut the door and turned the light on, yikes in deed at how it was swollen and a completely different color against your (s/c). After using the bathroom and laying down you tried to think about what it was he was dreaming about. You clicked your theory together as you began dozing off. It was almost Christmas time and it wasn’t too insane for that to be it.

You sighed a little, your parents weren’t going to like your new look, but Darry was worth all the so called; “abuse”.

You might as well had been associated with the socs. You were 19, about to be 20 and graduated with Darrel, you vaguely remember his parents but Darry was always yours throughout high school. Every football game or dance, you two were always seen together.

It was now four in the morning, but you couldn’t go back to sleep, you let out a soft sigh as you got up and went to the kitchen, you knew the gang would be over in the morning and Pony always liked your breakfast, so you started on a big meal, deciding if they were still dying of starvation, you could bake another chocolate cake like Mrs. Curtis use to do.