Helpless

Failed

Darry POV

I wound my way through the corridors, racing down one hallway and another until I found one with two vending machines and no people. I sank down on a seat, the papers from the doctor in my hands, and fought wildly at the tears that threatened to spill. Pony is sick, I thought, Pony is very, very sick, and from what the Doc told me he is going to die. Not without hope means there is none. My little brother is going to die.

"The cancer is still in its preliminary stages," the doctor had told us after dropping the cancer bomb. Soda had gone so white he looked like paper, I had shoved my hands in my pockets so no one saw them shake, and Pony had just stared in disbelief, then whimpered and closed his eyes. "But dealing with it is something brand new to the medical field. And given your...economic situation, I'd say your treatment plans are limited."

"You're telling me that I'm going to die," Pony'd whispered. Soda'd made a funny noise, and shut his eyes tight, as if he were in physical pain. I'd just felt frozen, as if my mind were a record player stuck on one word.

Cancer.

God I wanted my parents. I wanted them to make the decisions lying ahead, I wanted them to calm our fears, to take on the doctors and bills, the disease itself.

But hearing the despair, fear, and grief in my youngest brothers' voice snapped me back to reality.

"He isn't saying that, Pon," I snapped, laying a hand on his shoulder. I'd turned back to the doctor, who had stared at me blankly. "Tell me everything we can do. Forget our 'economic situation.'"

So he had, discussing chemotherapy, radiation, and a myriad of strange ones that sounded more like old women fetching things from the woods then real medicine. But rather than becoming more and more hopeful as he went on, the three of us felt a heavier and heavier weight on our chests. There was no cure. There simply wasn't. And all of the semi-cures cost more than we'd ever be able to afford.

I'm sorry, Pony. I've failed you. I'm always failing you. When I tried to keep you safe from the Socs you got jumped. When I tried to keep you safe from the streets and I made you a runaway. And now when I thought all the external danger might be gone this thing snuck up on us and got you anyway. And now...

You may be dying.

You may be dying, little brother, and I can't save you. I can't do anything.

I stared at the huge piles of papers in my hands, each one meant to give us hope. After all...

This is not without hope. This is not without hope. This is not without hope.

I took a deep breath. I'll do whatever it takes, I thought. Everything it takes. I'll get us donations and I'll ask for raises and I'll work more jobs, if I have to. I'll never sleep. But I'll do my damndest to save him.

I took a deep breath and rose, slowly walking back toward my youngest brothers' room. He was going to need me. And I was going to be there for him, every miserable step of the way.

Even if he was walking toward his grave.