Author's Note: Well I just can't help myself. I'm starting another story. Only because I've got this idea in my head and I gotta get it out. I'm still writing the other ones but it takes me a while so don't worry they'll be updated. But for this one it takes place when Dally's about 18 so everyone else in the book is 2 yrs older. But the book never happened and all that jazz. The Socs and Greaser thing is quieting down and Dally decides to head on over back to New York for a lil visit. Hope ya like.

A stray feather performed its aerobatics in the soft August winds. Shredded and torn, it floated downwards, inching its way through the breeze and onto a lonely cowhide boot. Dallas Winston took in a long savoring drag from his cigarette, stuffing the nearly empty pack of cools into his coat pocket. His eyes fell onto the feather then to the wet puddle beneath his brown boots. He'd been sitting on the curb outside the Shepard's house for close to an hour. Night was slowly ending and the onset of morning could be seen in the rise of orange clouds. A smoke ring rested above his head as Dallas tried to understand life. It was a big task that he wouldn't complete in just one night but he needed answers to questions that had been bothering him for some time now. The wars between Greasers and Socs were dying out, nobody talked about it; maybe because they didn't notice, but he did. Drugs were making their way out of the big cities and into Tulsa and it was ruining the gangs. Shepard's gang and some of the Brumly boys were taking it and Socs that had connections in Bixie did it too. Dallas didn't care much anymore about it though. He was growing restless with everything and even riding for Buck had lost most of its charm. He'd never thought he'd felt so old at only eighteen.

Only an hour ago he'd been asleep on the Shepard's couch, dreaming of the days when he was kid, running loose through the mean streets of New York. There wasn't too much worrying going on then, not the serious kind that he was toying with at the moment. Gangs, that's all that mattered. Being part of a gang and being as tough as a kid could be. He had that life but now it was ending and then what would be left? Dally feared that this turning point, would mark the end of his famous reputation. He'd have to get a real job to survive. No more riding or getting a few bucks out of the occasional pool hustle. He was an adult now, no more bumming around Tulsa. Everyone seemed the same, Soda and Steve still slaved away at the DX and Pony was finishing school. Johnny didn't live with his folks no more, not since a few months ago and Two- bit still lazed around his house. They were getting older though, Dallas could feel it. Their bond would sever eventually and this was the start. The end of the gangs.

Dallas shot his cigarette into the dirt and rose to his feet. He tugged the leather jacket about his chest and zipped it up about halfway. Thumbs hooked in the pockets of his old jeans, he sulked down the street. He walked relaxed, bangs shadowing his cold eyes. House lights were still extinguished at this point while the sodium streetlamps began to fade away in the morning sun. Dally moved up the sidewalk, dragging his feet up the small incline and smiling as he watched the colors appear in the bruised sky. It was a sight, no wonder that Pony was always shooting his mouth off about it.

At the Curtis house, Buck Merrill's old T-bird slept under a thin layer of dew. Lifeless shadows rested along torn seats inside the rusty car. Dallas stood outside, watching the windows of the house, wondering if someone was up already, maybe even looking out through the pane of glass at him. Metal keys to the vehicle were fumbling in Dally's moist palms. A cold sweat ran along the curve in his arched back. He wasn't sure what he was doing. Standing there in the gravel driveway, kicking up loose pebbles and searching for another cigarette to calm his nerves, Dallas Winston was debating whether or not to go back to New York. The city that devoured him as a child and spat him out as hood, it had stayed in his blood all these years. Now it called him back. He had it all now, but there was something missing, closure? On his past perhaps? Whatever it was it had woken him from a deep sleep and gnawed at the corners of his mind. He was leaving Tulsa. That would be the only option, to go back and look up the old memories, than it would final. Childhood would finally be over and this would be the stepping stone towards adulthood.

Dallas slipped the metal key into the lock and with a quick jerk, opened the door and climbed into the drivers' seat. The engine turned over after a couple of tries and hummed noisily in the still air. Foot on the pedal, Dally buckled himself in and spun out of the driveway. Reckless as he'd always been, the tires shot out rocks onto the Curtis lawn and burnt rubber onto the dark asphalt. Down the Tulsa streets, the T-bird became just another blur in the morning mists. White dashes etched across the road got sucked beneath the front bumper. The leaving sign, scuffed up and dented, stood at an angle, swaying back and fourth, almost waving a quiet goodbye to the greaser as he left the city. Somewhere inside Dallas hopped the gang would understand why he had to leave, especially Johnny. He'd explain the need to leave on his return, but until then there would only be him and the empty highway. He needed this.

Sometime after he'd left Tulsa and after the sun had rose full and brilliant in the sky, Dallas leaned against the T-bird outside a rundown tavern. The start of a headache could be felt just behind his eyes. He massaged his temples, squinting his eyes from the sun's heat he turned to look at the building. The parking lot sat, nearly empty of any cars save for a busted up old ford and a cute little sting ray that could only belong to some rich lost tourist. Dally eyed the car, before climbing back into his own. Buck would be mighty sore when he found out Dallas had kidnapped his T-bird. A grin tugged at the corners of the towheaded boys lips while he pulled the scrap metal back onto the road.

The day went by fast and it was late afternoon before Dally made his way into New York. People stared at him as he drove through. Their looks were mean and reflected an anger he'd seen so many times staring back at him in the mirror. It was strange to be home, Dallas thought while he turned a corner. Boarded up buildings and flickering neon signs, it was all so different than Tulsa. He let the smells of the city and the sounds of backfiring engines and people shouting sooth him. Rolling down the window, he listened and enjoyed the city's own symphony.

"Glory, this ain't Tulsa!"

Dallas snapped his head around to the back seat and dangerously braked in the middle of the street. No cars were nearby to complain, which was good because if pushed too far Dallas may have done something he'd regret. The headache he'd felt coming on had dispersed but now, it was starting once more and it wouldn't leave. Rubbing his eyes on the torn back seats, with his head searching left and right out the windows was the rusty hared greaser Dallas had thought he'd left behind in Tulsa. Leather jacket sprawled on the floor of the car beside the boy's feet; he looked up with his laughing grey eyes and comical grin.

"Two-bit!" Dallas cried out. He tried to lunge for the greaser but the seatbelt held him in place. Two-bit snickered and watched as Dally stumbled across the metal lock with his hands. There was a faint clicking sound and the platinum hared greaser was free. His fists shot out once again for the hood in the back seat and caught musty air as the boy dove out the door. Dallas was already opening the driver's side and had shut the door when he saw Two-bit taking off down the sidewalk for all he was worth.

"Christ almighty!" Dally mumbled and jumped back into the T-bird. He made a U-turn on the asphalt and followed the joker down a couple of back streets before he finally pulled up along side him. Two-bit looked worn out, with dark circles under his eyes and his hair all mussed.

"Get in the car." Dallas called while he leaned with his head out the window. Two-bit shook his head and kept up his quick pace. He stumbled down the cracked sidewalk, unsure where he was going or where he was even. "Two-bit…"

"No way, I don't feel like getting my head kicked in."

"I ain't gonna do that."

"Sure, that's what they all say and then…"

"They?" Dallas gave a frustrated sigh. "Just get your ass in the damn car Matthews!"

Two-bit stopped where he was. Dallas braked once again and unlocked the passenger side. The rusty hared greaser climbed in beside him and relaxed in the soft cushions of the seat. Foot on the ignition, Dally revved the car a bit and took off.

"Why in the hell were you in my car?"

"Buck's car." Two-bit reminded him. Dally shot him a look. Two-bit ignored the piercing blue eyes and rolled down the car window. He watched, almost mesmerized by the sights that flew by.

"So, why were you in my car?"

"Got drunk…too tired to go inside the house…don't remember the rest…." he answered through shaky breaths. This was all too much. "Hey, Dally?"

"What?" he snapped.

"Where are we?"

"The Bronx." He said flatly and Two-bit felt himself getting sick to his stomach. It churned with the unsettled beer from the night before.

"New York?"

"Yeah, New York. Jeez, Two-bit you'd think you learnt something after all them years in school."

Two-bit brushed his hand through his greasy locks and turned to his friend. Their eyes met for a moment and were held in place. Dally watched with a bit of concern as the usually talkative hood remained silent and began to pale before his eyes.

"SHIT!"

"Two-bit?" Dallas glanced back to the road and then to the greaser.

"I'm gonna be sick Dal, hurry pull…" his voice disappeared and suddenly Two-bit's hand shot out and grabbed the steering wheel and veered near the right. Dallas braked just in front of a garbage can, cursing himself blue at the near accident Two-bit had caused.

"Two-bit?"

Dallas noticed the side door was hanging open and his buddy no longer occupied the seat next to him. Stepping around the front of the car he recognized Two-bits old black leather boots sticking out. Not far from there, Two-bit was hunched over, hands pressed flat against the New York street and body trembling. He coughed and wretched a bit more, his strength slowly depleting with every breath, he gasped as if he were clinging to life.

"Come on" Dallas encouraged when he figured Two-bit had finished. The greaser stayed put, his knees bent and head hanging tiredly above the mess of undigested food.

"Leave me be Dallas" Two-bit mumbled, before hauling himself to his feet.

"I didn't invite you to come with me" Dally snapped.

"Hey, I didn't invite myself." The color was slowly coming back in Two-bit's face. The sudden fear that had appeared in his grey eyes at first had been swept away and was replaced with that laughing recklessness Dallas had come to enjoy. "But i suppose ass long as were here, you might as well buy me breakfast."

Dallas glared at Two-bit and got back into the T-bird. Two-bit got in beside him.

"What did I say?"

Author's Note: Okay so that's the set up chapter. It got a little serious at the beginning kinda, a lot of thinking for Dallas Winston I know, but he's a little older and times are changing so he is too. I thought Two-bit would give it a bit of humor so hope you enjoyed. It's gonna get a bit more action packed and dramatic later on too, you'll see. Hope you liked and it was confusing in the beginning and that everyone understands that there's no real reason he's going to New York, he just has to go. Oh and sorry if my American Geography isn't all that great, I'm Canadian so I'm not sure about all this New York stuff. Any help would be appreciated. Ok. I'm ready, review and constructive criticism always appreciated.