Disclaimer: I do not own "The Outsiders", plot devices, characters, or any other recognizable entities from "The Outsiders". I only own Sarah Willis, and she may not be used without my permission.

I haven't decided if this is a one-shot or not… I really, don't know if I should leave it as is, or continue, but I think this is one of my better written pieces (all because of Cooroo's helped, she pushed me to the best of my ability and I am eternally thankful to her for that). For now, I'll leave it as is, but if too much time passes and I don't get inspiration, I won't continue it and will leave it as a one-shot.

The title was borrowed from the song "Left for Center" by Suzanne Vega, and I highly recommend you check it out. It's older, but very lovable. I may change the title because I'm not sure how I feel about it, but I've never been good at naming things, so this story may end up with thirty titles before we're finished.

I feel I must warn you, I did save Johnny and Dally in this fic, so if you don't like that… tough. Simply hit the back button, won't hurt my feelings a bit. I just had to save my favorite characters. It was bad enough when Johnny died, but then she turns around and offs Dally? Come now, S.E. Hinton. That was entirely/somewhat/not really preventable.

Reviews are good for my soul. Flames are bad for your soul. These are easy things to make note of.

Enjoy!

Left of Center

Chapter 1 – Simplicity

She was walking down the street, that's when I had first seen her.

At the time, I hadn't thought much of her. She was cute, sure, but just like every other girl I had ever seen: a great bore. Since that whole incident with Johnnycake, I hadn't given much thought to girls. The two of us had almost died. You don't get over that. Never.

I worried more about payin' my rent on time and making sure Johnny had a place to sleep at night: my couch. The couch was easier on his back, put less of a strain on him, though he couldn't feel it, and half the time I put him in my bed and I took the couch. It's not like he could argue or anything… I took care of him, better than his good for nothin' parents ever had. There were some nights though when he asked if his parents called, or dropped by. Shit, those two were happy he was gone, but I'd be damned if I'd tell Johnnycake that. After the incident, his useless sack of shit mother had left and his old man started takin' it out on Johnny; on Johnnycake who couldn't run away, or defend himself. I had gotten that kid out of there faster than lightning when I heard, but that didn't stop him from asking.

Tonight... tonight was different. Johnny was sleepin' with me tonight, laying flat on his face, scarred face peaceful and calm. For one thing, the apartment was cold, as the weather was changing and, of course, the heater was busted. Thank you, Mr. Landlord, for fixin' it like you said you would…which was last month, by the way. The gesture is appreciated…bastard. For another, Johnny and me both were havin' nightmares; nasty ones. I dreamed of losing him, of walking into the hospital with Pony and seeing Johnny laying there pale and cold and small and broken… it still killed me to this day. If I had been smart, I would have checked for a pulse. If I had been paying attention, I would have seen the light breath shaking black bangs that always hung in his eyes. But I was a dumb ass. I was lucky that the bullets hadn't hit my heart when those cops opened fire.

Being in a coma wasn't fun. Nothin' happened, you didn't even dream, till you woke up and found six worried faces lookin' down at you. Yeah, even Shepard had shown up, and Johnnycake's wheelchair hadn't been able to get close enough but the second I sat up and saw him I was out of bed and wrapped around his neck. No one said anything to me about that, or the hugs and tears that had gone around after, (not that I had cried, but damn Steve had been bawlin' like a baby) knowing that I would beat the shit out of them.

I saw her again at a party at Buck Merril's, and this time I took more notice of her. She was more than cute, but not gorgeous. Her face was a natural one, no heavy make up, with soft lips and a crooked grin set around crooked teeth. Her hair was long and dirty blonde, pulled back into a messy ponytail as she drank and smoked and danced. She had been sweaty, so loose hair had been sticking to her neck and face. A low cut, white, short sleeved blouse had ridden up on her stomach and a black skirt flared around skinny legs with knobbly knees.

I had asked Buck about her later, and he hadn't too said much, bein' half crocked as he had been, but he said her name was Sarah Willis, she was a senior at Ponyboy's school, used to live in Chicago, and had just been dumped by some guy. He had said, before collapsing on my shoulder that she was a bit of rebel, dated around, and hadn't stuck with one guy longer then two months. Not into commitment, huh? I could sympathize. Like I said, I hadn't been interested in girls lately. There had been something different about her, though. She was a total greaser gal, no way around that, but didn't seem to give a damn. There was something freeing about a girl who didn't care and knew how to party, all while cradling a beer in her hand. There was somethin' really freeing about that…something mesmerizing.

It had been the first time in two years that a girl had snagged my attention, since that slut Sylvia at least. There wasn't anything special about her, except that I don't give a shit attitude. That kinda made up for the fact she wasn't all that good looking.

Shakin' out of my thoughts, I stretched my legs a bit, careful to avoid kicking Johnny, before glancing out the window. I had to be at work at nine, and as much as I hated my job with a fiery passion, I still had to be there. The Garage (as it's named because Bruce is an uncreative dip shit) was more Steve's place than mine. Sure, I could work on engines, and yeah, I was pretty quick at lifting hubcaps off a Soc's car, but I wasn't some great mechanic. I got the job because I scared people shitless, and that kept them from swipin' crap when no body was payin' any attention. 'Sides if I needed help I could call Steve, split the pay check, and starve for a while, no big deal.

I worried briefly over this month's rent, but my thoughts were interrupted when Johnny moaned in his sleep. "Get away from me…get off him…" he muttered, chest heaving.

He was havin' a nightmare. His hands balled into fists, and if he could move more I was sure he'd be fighting off some invisible Soc and recusin' Ponyboy. As it was, his torso thrashed, his eyes clenched, and tears ran down russet cheeks. His hands unclenched a moment and I thought he had pulled himself out of the nightmare when he moaned again. Kid was gonna wake the neighborhood.

I shifted and grabbed his shoulder, momentarily distracted at the contrast of my pale skin to his dark before shaking him gently, but enough to move him around some. "Oi, Johnnycake…wake up, would ya?"

I shook him for a few moments before he threw himself out of the nightmare with a yelp and panicked eyes; he even reached for the switchblade he kept of the bedside table before he realized where he was. He pushed himself up as far as he could away from me, while I subtly rearranged pillows for comfort, and he glanced at me. Something about his wide eyes had always melted a part of me, and as much as it pissed me off, I couldn't shake my head at the kid or even sneer at him.

Instead I pulled him close against me with a muttered, "Easy there, Johnnycake, you're all right. Ain't anybody here but us grease balls..."

He snorted wetly, and then fell into the embrace for a minute before pullin' away. He was calm again, tears had stopped, and the fine shake I had noticed as he leaned against me disappeared. I was thankful, somewhere inside. I wasn't much for lovey dovey crap and I was always awkward when it came to hugs, unless it was a girl. Somethin' about being with a pretty girl made me tense up, get protective, and -as much as I hated to admit it- go a little soft. Sure, I still cussed up a storm, and yeah, I was still a rude ass, but I was the only one allowed to be a rude ass with the girl. If anybody else so much as flicked her nose I'd beat the livin' shit out of them. The first guy who found out about that little secret was a dead man…

We laid in silence a while, and I thought he was going' back to sleep. I shifted onto my back, hands under my head and stared at the ceiling. It reminded me of school (the few times I had been there) and the flat, somewhat dingy surface bored me enough that it lulled me to sleep some nights. Other nights the blankness made me think, about what I had missed, about what Johnny missed, but most of the time my mind was quiet - even my demons were too scared of me to bug me much.

"Dally?" murmured Johnny's tentative voice. I furrowed my brow and grunted a response; my eyelids were getting' heavy. "Why ain't you dated?"

I started, muscles tensing automatically. "Where the hell did that come from?" I mumbled groggily.

"I was just thinkin'. You haven't dated since Sylvia. Whynot?" he mumbled. I glanced over and noted that his eyes were closing, but a sliver of shiny black still looked at me.

I shrugged. "I got more stuff to worry about than some broad."

"What about that Sarah girl…the one you asked Merril about?" His voice was down to an unsteady whisper and his eyes didn't open again after the latest blink. I shrugged again. "She's the first one since-" he yawned and his jaw cracked, and then continued "Sylvia, right, the first one that's snagged your interest? Why ain't you goin' for her?"

I shrugged for the third time. "I think I might, but I ain't expectin' too much, ya know?"

"Yeah…why ain't you dated since Sylvia though? You didn't really answer…" He yawned again.

I shook my head and looked at the clock next to my head. It was almost one in the morning. Of all times for Johnny to get chatty..."Honest? I gotta take care of you, Johnnycake, you come first. If the next broad don't get that, she ain't worth it…and our type of girls would think I'm gay."

He was too tired to get embarrassed, but still managed to make one last comment. "And then you'd belt em' in the mouth, right, Dally?"

I snorted a laugh. "Hell, yeah."

He and I both knew I wouldn't hit a girl. I might not be Mr. Manners, but I know better. Besides, if you smack the wrong girl they might pull a blade on ya. Rare, yeah, to meet a broad with a blade on her (and the blades rarely got bigger then the average pen knife, just a little something to keep the muggers or greasersoff 'em) but still, it happened and pen knives hurt no matter how tough you acted. Metal plus skin equals not good when force was added. See? I had paid attention in science.

He smirked and finally fell asleep, arms wrapped around his chest, black hair falling in his face and he started to snore, his face goin' slack. I watched him sleep for a while then brushed his bangs away from his face, just for somethin' to do. He was my kid brother, the one I had never wanted, the kid brother I was lucky to have. If some broad didn't get that he came first, that he was family, and that I would drop everything if he needed me, then fuck them. Same thing with Ponyboy, and the others. They were family.

Sarah Willis wouldn't screw that up, and neither would Sylvia.