The Outsiders headcanons turned into oneshots <3

Headcanon 2: The dogtag.

"Pony, can you get the mail?" Darry asks me. He stands in the kitchen, washing our breakfast dishes.

"Yeah." I walk out onto the lawn. The morning is warm but also muggy. I can already tell today is gonna be miserable.

I sift through the letters. Most are just junk, one of them is the water bill, then I get to the last one.

It's from the US Army.

It doesn't have Sodas name on the address. I feel sick, like I'm gonna pass out.

I race back inside. "Darrel!" I say, my voice panicked.

"Ponyboy? What is it?" Darry says, his voice serious now.

My hands shaking, I hand him the letter.

His face goes pale when he reads the front. I take a seat next to him, and with shaking hands, Darry opens the letter.

To the residence of Sodapop P. Curtis.

It is with a heavy heart that we inform you that Sodapop Curtis was killed in a battle in North Vietnam. We will be forever grateful for his sacrifice.

His belongings will return to you soon. The US grieves with you. May god be with you in these trying times.

Lieutenant Shawn E. Hinton

I try to think of someway to voice what I'm feeling, but nothing comes to mind. Not even the darkest word from the pit of hell could describe what I feel.

A terrible sound fills my ear. Almost a wailing. I look over, and Darry is on the floor yelling in agony. His chair is flipped over too.

I feel like that too. I want to scream, but I can't move. I can't breathe.

So I just sit there. I hear something other then Darry's crying, a memory of a sound.

When the US first entered the war, it was the headline of every newspaper. Soda had been reading it and he shook his head, saying, "The godamn world is ending."

My world has ended.

3 weeks later

I've been sleeping on the floor.

I can't go into my room. Our room. I can't look at photos. I can't look at anything that remotely reminds me of-

I can't even think his name.

Darry's worse. He's completely shut down. Him screaming when he read the letter was the last I heard him use his voice.

Everyday since the letter, my brain had brought up one memory of him, each day. Today i remember right before he was about to be shipped off.

Darry had been hugging him and crying silently. I refused to say the word, "goodbye." Instead I said, "I'll just say hello when I see you again." Then I hugged him and told him I loved him.

I shouldn't have been so confident that I would see him again. Why was I? He was going to war.

A knock at the door.

I'm 19 now, so I know it's not the guys from the state. Slowly, I go to the door.

A man in uniform stands at the door, holding a box. His tag reads "Hinton".

I gulp. "Lieutenant Hinton." I say.

"Is this Sodapop Curtis's household?" His voice is  almost no nonsense, but I can hear a warble beneath it.

I nod, then think better about it. "Yes, sir. I'm his brother."

Lieutenant Hinton nods. "These are his belongings. They should be given back to their...rightful owners." He hands me the box.

We stand there awkwardly for a few minutes, and  when I can't stand it anymore, I say, "Anything else, sir?"

Lieutenant Hinton clears his throat. "Just wanted to say...we lost a lot of good men when we lost your brother, but he...he was something special. Kid was a comedian. Made sure none of the other guys got too depressed. Kept them fighting. I say that to say this...he was a good kid. Taken too soon. And I'm sorry..." His voice breaks. He recovers quickly. "I didn't save him. I didn't save a lot of my boys. I'm sorry."

Tears flood my eyes. "T-thank you, sir." I stutter.

Lieutenant Hinton nods, and salutes me. I watch him walk off.

I wobble over to our couch. I think about trying to get Darry to leave his bed, but I know immediately it's a lost cause. I open the box.

Mostly pictures. One of us three together. One of mom and dad on their wedding day. We only had one copy of that photo, so the fact that Darry let him take it was unimaginable. Another picture of the gang. First Johnny, then Dally, and now...

Will it never end?

Then I get to the bottom.

His dog tag. I pick it up, a bubble expanding in my chest. Before I read it, though, I feel something like scratches on the back. I flip it over, and I nearly drop it.

"Hello" is engraved on the back of the tag. He remembered.

When did he carve this? The battle he died in?

Hands shaking, I bring the dog tag up to my forehead, and I rest it there. I put on the dog tag over Dally's Christopher. Something left of each of them.

Goodbye, I say silently.