Disclaimer: I do not own anyone in this fanfiction at all, the Outsiders belong to Susie Hinton… got it? Good.
A/N: This is my first try at anything remotely close to a fanfic so please be nice… takes place in Dally's POV… I made up the years of Johnny's death and birth because I don't know…
Dally's POV
This is the nicest I've ever been dressed, not ripped jeans and a clean button up white shirt. I had picked some weeds from the side of the highway by the cemetery and held them in my right hand, my left hand was stuffed in my pocket. I looked at the ground as I walked toward the grave of my best bud, Johnny Cade. The grave was small, the gang had pooled our money to buy him a nice grave, and all we could afford was a small gray stone with the words "Johnny Cade, A friend, 1952 - 1968". God Dammit Johnny… why'd you have to go into that building. I thought, my head was becoming cloudy and my vision was blurred, I felt tears pressing on the backs of my eyes so I blinked them away and wiped my eyes with my white shirt. I kneeled in the grass and put the yellow weeds on the grave, Okay Dallas, now you're just being plain old sappy. Pictures came into my head, pictures of Johnny, when Johnny got beat up by those God Damn Socs, at least he got the guy back…, how scared and jumpy he looked, when Johnny was saving those kids from the building, how happy he was, like he was having the time of his life.
That was the last time I saw that look on his face, the last time I saw him up on his feet. I saw Johnny, the night he killed the Soc, shaking, whether it was because he was cold or scared, and biting on his nails. The tears came like a flood, they came like they had never came before. I hadn't cried since I was ten, that first time I went to jail, and I forgot how it felt. Crying hurt like hell. It burned your eyes and hurt your head. You can't breathe real well and you have to take short gaspy breaths.
You see what you're doing to me? I silently asked Johnny, You see what you're doing Johnny Cade? I wiped some grass off of his gravestone that fell on it from when they mowed the lawn. I looked at my arm, it was healing okay, it didn't even hurt anymore, it just itched like crazy. I itched the top of my head and sighed, standing up and wiping my eyes. A quick visit to Johnny Cade had undone what all those years in the cooler had done to me. I was going soft, and I knew it.