“C’mon, you have to eat something.” Darrel protested as Pony stared blankly into the television— as if he had no soul, lost his soul. He practically did lose his soul, too. He lost his best friend, he lost Dally, the one who had helped him in all his troubles.

Darry didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t sure what to do. He was about to throw in the towel, really.

“Now listen, Pone, I been tryin’ my best t’keep it calm with you, but yer workin’ my last nerve. I just need’ja t’eat. You need to *eat.” Darry snapped at the last part. He was just.. so frustrated.

He paused as he felt Soda’s hand grip his shoulder, a signal that he needed to reel it in. Darry took a deep breath, a disgruntled one.

“Ponyboy. I made mystery meatloaf surprise and green beans. Soda found a chair at the yard, so we have enough now. Please come sit at the table.” Darrel said through gritting teeth, his arms crossed.

Again, no response.

“Fuckin’ hell. Jesus Christmas. Whatever, Pony. You do whatever the fuck y’damn please.” He all but growled, stomping off an sitting at the dinner table beside Soda.

“I don’t know, Soda. I just.. it’s been two months. I get he’s upset, but he needs to get over it. The world keeps spinnin’ ain’t gonna stop for nobody. Not for him, for Johnny, for Dallas. Nobody.”