Hey guys! This was my first ever Outsiders fanfic--I wrote it about a year ago--and I finally got around to posting it! I hope you like it, but either way drop a review =]


It Shouldn't Have Happened

an Outsiders fanfic by WinchestersForever

Dally walked as one condemned. He couldn't breathe, his knuckles hurt from where he had punched the walls of Johnny's room, and his mind was reeling with the impossibility of the last week's events. Ignoring onlookers as he stumbled along, he was vaguely aware of his blubbering, but he just couldn't pull himself together. Johnny--his Johnny--was dead.

Nothing was right anymore, nothing! This shouldn't have happened, Dally told himself. None of it!

His grieving mind turned to the Socs. He thought of how Johnny had only did what he did to save his pal just because the West End snobs thought it fun to beat the spit of out a couple of kids. He thought of how the Socs, along with Johnny's parents, had turned Johnny into the worrisome, desperate person he had been, how Johnny's life had been nothing but fear.

Suddenly Dally was so full of rage he didn't know what to do with himself. His breath was short and his chest grew tight; the whole world had just crumbled and the pieces had fallen on his shoulders. Some part of his mind told him to get to Darry's place—he could calm down, his friends would help him deal—but he didn't want to be calm and he didn't want to deal. He shouldn't have to deal with Johnny's death—it should never have happened!

His meandering feet brought him to the gas station on the corner. The parking lot was empty but for one vehicle stopped for gas. Dally's hand found the empty gun in his jacket pocket; he tightened his grip on the cold handle, steeled himself, and started across the street.

Inside the station he acted as normal as he could. His fingers still twitched for want of a cigarette, but mostly he was numb. He waited until the lone customer had left the store before making his move. Pulling the gun from his pocket, he aimed it at the man minding the register. The man's welcoming smile left his face in an instant, to be replaced by a look of angry fear.

"Money, I want the money," Dally vaguely heard himself say.

It's all right, Johnny, I'll get the money. We're gonna get outta here.

No Dally, it's not right. They'll take you to the can, Johnny's voice said with fearful awe inside his mind.

Dally's lips twitched into a smile. It's all right, kid. We need money to get away from the hurt.

The cashier looked at Dally strangely, at the tear tracks running down his cheeks, his despair-filled eyes and the faint smile playing on his lips. "Look kid, you--"

Dally's smile vanished and suddenly he was angry. "Just give me the money!'

The rest passed in a blur. Dally was stuffing the bills in his pockets as he dashed from the store, running away from the distant sirens resounding off the street buildings.

Come on, run Dally! Johnny's voice urged him. His feet matched the erratic beat of his heart as they pounded the pavement, taking him further and further away from his grieving sin. Not thinking, he halted at a pay phone and jammed a dime into the slot, punching Darry's number in and waited, trembling, for someone to answer.

"Hello?" It was Darry.

Dally quickly filled him in, not waiting for an answer before hanging up and dashing off again. The sirens were closer, but he kept going. Minutes later he came upon Darry's road and there they all were: his gang, his friends, all urging him on and shouting.

All but Johnny.

The cop cars were on his tail; he could hear their tires squealing.

Johnny, his mind pleaded. Let's stop.

No, Dally, run! The boys need you.

You needed me, Dally said desperately. I'm sorry, kid.

Johnny was silent, but Dally could feel him at his side. After a second, his voice spoke again. Okay, Dally. Stop running. I'll wait for you.

And with a blissful smile, Dally did just that. Beneath the yellow streetlight that was like a heavenly beam, he stopped running. Still smiling, he reached his hand inside his jacket pocket, turning his head to look back at his friends, who still didn't know what he intended to do. Then Ponyboy's eyes widened and Dally gave him a reassuring, loving smile and whipped the unloaded gun out.

Distantly he could hear Ponyboy's frantic "No!" before the first bullet ripped through him. After that first one, a cascade of them rained down on him. But he smiled and turned to where his grieving mind had placed the only thing he had ever loved:

Johnny.

End