「firefly」 | The Outsiders

Soggy Cereal.

Present day, AU.

| Ponyboy's POV. |

My feet met the floor, eyes darting to the bed Sodapop was fast asleep in. I kept my eyes on him, slowly backing out of the room and crossing my fingers that the wooden floor boards wouldn't start to creak. Once I was far enough away, I turned my back to him. The door made a loud click as I opened it. I seethed in a sharp breath, warily glancing at the bed once more. He was still out cold, and I thanked the skies for that.

I wasn't even sure why I was up. All I knew was that my body wanted food, even if I wasn't actively hungry. How did that work? I'd been ready for bed, and then suddenly I'd gotten the overwhelming want for food. Not need, want.

I sighed, hand grasping the refrigerator's door handle and peering inside. Nothing. My eyes caught onto a package in one of the drawers. At first glance, it appeared to be bologna and for a second I thought: I'll just eat a sandwich. But then I realized the package wasn't sandwich meat and was instead hot dogs, and I really didn't want a hot dog. Defeated, I shut the refrigerator door and scanned the rest of the kitchen. Nothing. We had nothing simple to make.

We really needed to go grocery shopping soon; the food stamps would be reloaded onto the card in two weeks, but I was hoping we'd get to pick up a few things before then. Suddenly, something on top of the fridge caught my eye - a tall, fat Special K cereal box. Smiling proudly to myself, I stood on my toes and pulled it down. Now we're talking, I thought silently, grabbing the milk before walking over to the cabinets. I opened them, expecting to see bowls but was greeted with - nothing, only plates. How the hell was I supposed to eat cereal on a plate? I looked in the dishwasher, but still, no bowls. Then, lastly, the sink. There all of our bowls lie, dirty and untouched. I half thought about washing one, but then I'd be risking waking up one of my brothers.

I had almost given up when a thought suddenly crossed my mind. Why not eat it out of a cup? We had coffee mugs that'd work just fine, and it wasn't as if it was something unheard of. Making the cup of cereal quickly, I grabbed a clean spoon and sat myself at the kitchen table.

I'd finished half of it when I realized I wasn't hungry anymore. But I couldn't just throw food in the trash without it spoiling and smelling awful; our trashcan never filled up quickly. If I poured it down the drain, it'd end up clogged and Darry would lose his crap. If I tossed it outside, I'd have to open that noisy old door and it'd surely wake them both up. So, I only really had one option... the refrigerator.

I stood up, putting the spoon in the sink before placing the cup on a shelf in the fridge and making my way back to the bedroom. I carefully slipped into bed, now with a full stomach, feeling satisfied and warm beside my brother. I silently hoped that I wouldn't have another nightmare, as usually they hit me when I least expected it. Some were worse than others, but all were pretty bad.

I woke up a few times throughout the night, all of which included me gasping for air and drenched in sweat, but there was no screaming, no full on crying. Each time it happened, I tried to take in the familiar surroundings as best as I could in the dark, and then cling to Soda. He stirred awake a few times, but quickly fell back asleep. When morning came, he was the first to get up. The movement caused my eyes to flutter open, half-unconscious mind confused at first until I realized what was happening.

"Mornin', Pony." He greeted, pulling his jeans on over his underwear.

"Morning, Soda." My voice was still tired, hands instinctively rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. He was already heading to the kitchen. Reluctantly, I slid off of the bed, changing into my clothes for the day before following his lead. I went directly to the refrigerator, grabbing my mug of half eaten, now cold cereal. As soon as I sat down with a spoon and took a bite, Soda looked at me strangely. His eyes moved from the mug, to me, and back to the mug.

"What..." He finally began, disgust clear in his voice. "Is that?"

"Cereal." I responded calmly. "I made it last night, but couldn't finish it. So I saved it for breakfast." With a shrug, I took another bite. He watched me silently, scunchng up his face while mouth hung open in what appeared to be mortification.

"I— that's so gross." I furrowed my brows.

"It's just cereal, Soda."

"No, no, no. It's soggy, cold cereal." I sighed, rolling my eyes and setting my spoon down to turn my full attention on him.

"It all tastes the same."

"No." He shook his head quickly, averting his eyes from my cup as if it were going to make him throw up. Darry was cooking pancakes, tuning us out until Sodapop got his attention. "Darry?"

"Hm?" He hummed, not turning to look at us.

"What are your thoughts on..." He made a point to shoot me a hard look before continuing, "Soggy cereal?" Darry turned to us now, crossing his arms and looking just as confused as I'd felt when Soda first questioned my eating choices.

"Why are we discussing cereal?"

"Because Pony is eating it."

"Soggy cereal?" He repeated, glancing from me to my brother. Sodapop nodded.

"What are your thoughts on it?" I held my breath. I didn't want both brothers criticizing me. He sat in thought a moment before shrugging and returning to his pancakes.

"I can't tell him what to eat."

"Yeah, but don't you agree?"

"It all tastes the same to me." Sodapop sat there, eyes widening so much that I thought they might pop out of his skull.

"You... It what?" A laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it.

"See? It's not just me." He stood up now, abruptly, as if he'd just seen a ghost.

"I don't even know who you guys are anymore." And with that, he walked out the door. He'd be back before lunch, I was sure of it.