Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders, nor do I own any of the characters mentioned in this story.
Warning: SLASHHHHH SLASHITY SLASH SLASH! Don't like, don't read :)
A/N: This is my first fic ever written, so I do apologize if it's horrible! Alright, I guess I can't stall anymore, so enjoy! :D
Dally bit his lip tentatively before quietly knocking on the hospital room door. He almost didn't want to go in. What if there was bad news? What if he— but, no, Dally couldn't afford to think that way. Dallas Winston was strong, and he never cried, and nothing fazed him, and how the hell was it possible that, just by walking into this room, that could all change?
Nobody seemed to hear him, so Dally knocked harder, the rhythm of his fist matching the staccato beat of his heart. His palms were sweaty, and it was taking all he had not to turn around and bolt, maybe run away to Mexico, and no one would even know he was gone, and—
The door creaked open. "Ahh... Mr. Winston." The doctor tried to keep his voice calm, but Dally heard the sharp note of fear behind it. "Please, come in."
Dally glanced warily at the fragile-looking form sprawled haphazardly across the bed. "He's not..."
"No, no, just sleeping," the doctor— what was his name? Wilson? Washington? Dally didn't really care— assured him.
"Is he— will he be—" Dally's voice broke and he realized how pathetic he sounded. "Just give it to me straight, doctor, is he gonna be okay or- or what?", he asked in his normal gruff voice.
Dr. W— yeah, that was good—gave Dally a small smile. "He'll live— in fact, he should be out in a couple of weeks. But I don't think he'll ever be 'okay'. He won't be able to walk again, and he's undoubtedly suffered serious mental trauma."
Dallas felt a lump rise in his throat. Johnny was already unstable enough, what with his parents and the run-in he had had with the Socs. What would he be like now, half-paralyzed and miserable? And yet, there was that one part of Dally, that one, selfish part, that was on top of the world.
Dallas Winston's whole life had been bittersweet. He had never had a moment where he was ecstatic, euphoric, even just a moment when he was plain and simply happy. And, of course, now was no exception.
Dally banged his fist against the headboard, ignoring the blood that dripped from his knuckles. It wasn't fair! Johnny didn't deserve this! Dally hated everything. He hated Ponyboy for saving those damned kids, he hated Johnny for trying to help him, but most of all he hated himself for not running into that building the second Johnny jumped through the window. He hated that he had almost been too late. But, no, he didn't even want to consider that possibility.
Johnny was going to have an awful, miserable life, and yet Dally was somehow happy. Because he still had Johnny, and if Dally had Johnny, Dally had Dally. Of course, he couldn't tell himself this, and even if he could, he probably wouldn't be able to understand. But he knew that this moment, just like the rest of his life, was bittersweet.
A/N: Okay, so I know that chapter was incredibly short and boring, but I had to have some way to open it and show what Dally was feeling. The next chapter will probably be Johnny reuniting with the gang and all that stuff, and after that there will definitely be some very fluffy fluff. 3 Also, I'm going to try to update this at least once a week, but it might take longer (or it could be quicker) based on my schedule. As I said before, this is the first fic I've ever written, so if you could review and tell me if you enjoyed it or how I could make it better, I would be eternally grateful :3