Hi guys, my name's Lillia, and this is my first-ever story that I've had the courage to post. It's got a lot of fun things—some action scenes with Johnny and the Socs, a little fluff with Dally…good stuff, good stuff. I hope you like it!

AU: Johnny survived the church incident. It would be no fun if he died, right?

Rating: T for some violence and curses.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders.

Turn of Events

Chapter 1: Tuff, not Stupid

"Johnny, if I told you once, I told you a thousand times, you're always welcome in our house and you're always welcome to sleep on our couch. C'mon man, cut the crap and just stay inside where it's warm."

Small, dark Johnny Cade stood in the doorway of the Curtis house, his shoulders slumped and his posture meek as Darry stood tall over him. It was a chilly February evening in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Johnny was getting ready to leave and spend the night in the lot under a tree. The younger boy stuffed his hands in his pockets, keeping his head down and his deep eyes away from Darry's stern ones. Johnny mumbled something incoherent under his breath.

"What'chu say? Speak up, kid!" It was getting late and Darry still needed to get his brothers off to bed and then get some rest himself before beginning another long day at work. Although he loved Johnny and knew that he had to respect his shyness, he was getting frustrated with the kid's stupid decision to sleep outside.

"I—I…it's just that I spent the last coupla nights here. I don't wanna be in anyone's way…"

"You're not in the way if you're sleeping on the couch!" Darry shouted, raising his hands and gesticulating for emphasis. Instinctively, Johnny flinched. "Damn kid, when did you start being so stubborn?"

Just as Johnny peeked up at Darry from the tops of his eyes, confident that the bigger boy wouldn't hit him, Dally strutted into the room. He had been in the kitchen where he'd been eating some snacks and regaling the younger two Curtis boys with some stories from New York. "Calm the fuck down, Darry," he said, his icy eyes passing over the older boy. "Kid don't wanna sleep here, he don't gotta,"

"He's got to be more careful. Sleeping in the lot's going to get you jumped again, Johnnycakes." He was truly concerned for his young friend's safety. "The Socs still haven't cooled down after Bob…"

Dally pushed open the door and stepped out into the night, turning to face the other two. "The kid's too tough to worry about them Socs, ain't you, Johnnycakes?"

"Yeah," Johnny said.

Darry stood over Johnny, which emphasized the size difference between the two. Darry was tall and muscled, Johnny was a runt; scrawny and small. "Do whatever you want, Johnny," he sighed, as Dally disappeared into the night. "Just know you can always come back here if you'd like."

"Thanks," he said. "And I appreciate it," he added. It was more words than Darry normally heard him say.

"Sure, Johnnycakes," said Darry, shaking his head and closing the door after him.

Johnny headed in the direction of the lot, kicking a stone down the street as he went. It sure was a cool night as the wind whipped through the streets. He buttoned up his jeans jacket as high as it would go, and walked with his head down to protect his face from the whistling gusts of cold air. He stuck his hands in his pockets, fingering his switch blade in the left one. By the time he reached the lot, his teeth were chattering and his hands, despite being in his pockets, were pale and frozen. Johnny sat himself down behind a large tree, which he hoped would shield him from the wind, and lit up a smoke. A long drag from the cancer stick was a comfort and it warmed him up inside a little bit. He drew his knees to his chest and put his head down, looking more haggard and weary than he should for a boy of sixteen years. He passed the time smoking and trying not to think of how cold he was. But just as the cigarette degenerated to no more than a butt and ashes, he heard a low rumble in the distance.

The boy's heartbeat quickened and his blood pressure rose. His spine stiffened and he felt all of his senses get sharper. As Darry had warned, these could be Socs looking for revenge. Johnny thought about what Dally had said. The kid's too tough to worry about them Socs, ain't you, Johnnycakes? Dally had called him tough, which was a real compliment coming from a hardened criminal like him. But the fact remained that the Socs were definitely hungry for revenge. Johnny had endured countless beatings in his life, but this time, he decided that being tough was not worth it.

Silently, he got to his feet and began running away from the sound of the rumbling engine. He darted from tree to tree, doing his best to stay in the shadows. Johnny no longer felt cold as he weaved his way through the lot, out of sight and away from detection. At he reached the entrance of the lot, he was feeling confident that he'd outrun the vehicle and outsmarted the Socs.

Click. All of the sudden, directly in front of him, a pair of headlights flicked to the bright setting, pointing head-on into Johnny's eyes. To his horror, the whooping laughs of three Socs reached his ears. How did they get to the front of the lot so fast and so quietly? Johnny didn't have much time to ponder their stealth as he began sprinting like the devil was on his heels. The car's engine revved behind him, and a screech of tires was enough to tell him he was being chased.

He reversed direction and ran into the lot, figuring the closer he was to trees, the less likely it was that he'd get run over. The loud, hollering voices from the car were terrible, and they were clearly enjoying themselves.

"C'mon, get 'em! Get the little fucker! Faster!"

"Look at that greasy rat run! Get 'em!"

They were laughing hysterically as Johnny sprinted. He was running purely for survival now, but he still noticed a sharp thwack and the sound of glass shattering as something whizzed by his ear and connected with a tree on his left.

"Almost got 'im that time! Try again! Get the greasy bastard!"

Johnny tripped on a root and went sprawling across the ground. In the heat of the moment, he felt no pain. Without missing a beat, he rolled to his feet and switched direction once more, racing towards a cluster of trees. He dodged between two of them just in time to hear another thwack and shatter on a branch he'd just ducked under. They were throwing glass bottles at him! The sounds of the screeching tires must have woken the entire region as the Socs swerved to avoid the trees.

Two more bottles were hurled at Johnny. One missed severely, but the other hit a tree branch directly above him, raining shards of glad down onto his black hair and jacket. The gleeful yelps from the Socs were sickening. One was egging his friend to throw another, "But be careful!" He warned, "it's our last one!" The Soc wound up and launched the bottle, and it caught Johnny on the elbow, knocking him off balance.

He was nearing the perimeter of the lot, and before long, he'd be in the open, clear and exposed for the Socs to do as they pleased. Would the get out and jump him? Would they speed up and run him over? He only had a split second to decide what to do, and to run in either direction seemed like a death sentence. Without looking over his shoulder, he opted to go straight out onto the street, running faster than he'd ever run in his life. The Socs chorused an animalistic cry, like a pack of wolves honing in on their prey.

"Floor it!" one of them shouted.

The driver complied, slamming on the gas pedal, just as the headlights of a truck appeared at the opposite end of the street, heading Johnny's way. The Greaser's heart thudded in his chest. More Socs were coming! He was doomed. He veered right, praying that if he was lucky, the two Soc vehicles might crash.

And as he entertained the thought, the sound of shrieking brakes, crinkling metal, shattering glass and broken branches filled the night. Behind him, his prayers had been halfway answered; the Socs had run their car head-on into a tree. As he attempted to look over his shoulder at the wreckage, he tripped over the curb and flew into somebody's mailbox. He was dizzy and disoriented as he tried to right himself. His vision blurred momentarily, than focused on three Socs jumping out of the car. They all appeared to be in one piece but their car was a mess. As he picked himself off the ground the truck skidded to a menacing halt in front of him.

"Johnny, get in!"

"Wha…?"

To the dark boy's astonishment, Dallas Winston was behind the wheel of an old, beat-up, robin's egg blue truck, beckoning him to climb in. Simultaneously, lights were turning on in the nearby houses, and neighbors were groggily stepping out onto their porches and lawns. "The hell is going on out here! I'm calling the cops!" screamed an old man.

"What, you waiting for another invitation, punk? Get your ass in here!" Dally yelled.

Johnny unceremoniously threw his upper body through the open passenger window, and Dally was already speeding away before he had his legs through. Panting, he oriented himself into the passenger seat properly. His head was pounding and his ears were ringing. Even his tan face looked pale. Johnny Cade was too stunned to speak.

"…Shoulda known better…"Dally was muttering under his breath as he swerved onto a main artery, cutting off another car, ignoring the other driver's curses and shouts.

"I'm sorry," Johnny heard himself say. His voice was shaking and he didn't seem to be in control of it, but it was important that his hero was not upset at him.

"No! I shoulda known better!" The blonde hissed, speeding up to make it through a yellow light.

"Huh?" Johnny looked up at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his elevated breath.

"Darry, man. Darry's a fucking hardass and all, but he was right. He was looking out for your scrawny ass and all I did was tell you to be stupid." He took his eyes off the road to look at Johnny, "Listen kid, I don't wanna sound like weak shit, but I love you, you know that right?"

Johnny felt his heart thump and he was pretty sure it was related to something more than the stresses he endured in the lot. "Yeah," he said tentatively.

"And after what went down at the church…Listen. You don't hafta be like me. You can be tuff without being stupid." He sighed, shaking his blonde head. "You shoulda just slept on the couch…I shoulda told you to sleep on the couch."

The younger boy stayed quiet for a moment. This was the deepest expression of emotion that he, or anyone for that matter, had ever seen Dally display. He was legitimately concerned for Johnny's safety, and that made him feel good.

Realizing that he'd left Dally hanging for too long, Johnny hastened to speak up "It's not your fault!" He blurted quickly, "It was my idea to go to the lot."

"Yeah, well, we all gotta look after you, ya know?"

"You don't gotta!" Johnny said, somewhat defensively.

"Heh." It was a sound Dally made that was similar to a bitter laugh. "Johnnycakes, that's not what I mean. We all want to look after you." He paused. "Because we love you."

"I love you too," Johnny blurted, the words tumbling from his lips a hair too fast.

The laughter-like grunt escaped the blonde's lips again as he pulled into the downtown area of Tulsa, which was alive and thumping with nightlife. "Don't get all soft on me."

The younger boy fumbled with his words. "I—uh—I mean, we all love you too."

"Uh-huh man, whatever." He jerked the steering wheel roughly, parking the truck in an alley outside of a club with blaring music. He reached over and tousled Johnny's hair with his hand. "Whatever you say."

The touch of his friends hand on his head made Johnny sit up straight in his seat. It was nothing and over in an instant, but nevertheless felt very important to Johnny. The touch almost had an electric quality to it which made his heart thump; sending a weird feeling to his stomach and then out to his fingers and toes.

He realized he'd been zoning out and snapped back to reality when Dally slammed his door shut. "There's glass in your hair by the way." He said matter-of-factly. "And you look like shit." He was walking around the side of the building to a back entrance of the club. Johnny scrambled to follow him. "Thought you oughtta know."

"I…yeah."

"You should prob'ly tell me how that got there." Dally pulled open the back door leading to a small mudroom and a rickety staircase that rose a steep two flights above the thumping club down below. The boys began the ascent.

"You should probably tell me where the hell we are, whose truck that was you was driving, and how you knew to come save my ass when you did." Johnny shot back, amazed at his own boldness.

At the top of the staircase was a dim landing with a few oversized chairs and a small table. A few people sat around it talking to each other seriously and in low voices. They were either blazed or tripping or both, even Dally couldn't tell. They nodded their heads in greeting to the two teenagers, their eyes out of focus. Dally led Johnny past them down a corridor to a door in the middle of the hallway. He fumbled in his jeans for a key.

"You know I should kick your ass for that shit, Johnnycakes, but you're too cute for that." His key fit the lock and the door swung open, barely revealing a pitch-dark room. "Now come. I'mma clean you up and then we can straighten all them questions out."

Johnny didn't protest as Dally pulled him into the room. He was utterly speechless. In one evening, he'd been freezing in the lot, chased by Socs, pelted with glass bottles...and now to top it off, Dally Winston had just called him cute. Johnny was intrigued.

Thanks for reading! I love reviews!