DISCLAIMER: I do not own the outsiders.

A.N: Just a thought I had about what happened to Dally when Pony and Johnny were at the church. Couldnt remember ever coming across a fan fic that covered it. Enjoy, review, and there will be more.

Dallas woke with a pounding head, his ribs a painful reminder of the fight he and Tim Shepard had gotten into the previous night. He could scarcely remember what it had started over now. Oh yeah, Tim's slashed tyres.

He allowed himself a smile as he rolled over onto his stomach but then grimaced at the pain in his chest. Jesus, he needed some aspirin or something.

It was then that it came back to him. Johnny and the kid turning up last night, Johnny a quivering wreck and Pony drenched through like a drowned rat. Both terrified because they'd killed a soc. He almost laughed at the thought it was so ridiculous. Shit, maybe he'd dreamt it.

He opened one eye and scanned the room for any sign of his leather jacket. Nope, the jacket was gone. He really had given it to Pony last night, around the same time he'd handed Johnny his gun. The fucking irony of it, Johnny eyeing the gun like he could never use it just minutes after he'd stabbed some rich brat to death.

Dally sat up on the edge of the bed, his vision slightly blurred thanks to all the brandy he'd drank the night before. He'd just been planning to go to bed after the fight with Shepard but when Pony and Johnny had left he'd decided he better disappear for a while. He had a feeling that both Darry and the cops were gonna be looking for him once the story broke. So he'd decided to have a drink for the road and get the hell out of there. Unfortunately one drink had turned into two, two to three, and before he knew it he was in no state to go anywhere, he could scarcely make it back up the stairs.

Well, now was definitely time for him to get the hell away from Bucks, the first place anyone would look for him.

He was dressed in less than a minute and headed downstairs groggily. The difference in noise level between night and day at Bucks alway amazed him. Last night it had sounded like a rock concert and this morning, well this morning you could hear a pin drop.

His throat was dry from the hang over and he thought about grabbing a drink before he left but decided not to press his luck. It was a feat in itself that he hadn't been dragged out of bed by Darry Curtis already.

Dally's boots clanked heavily on the old wooden porch as he made his way out. He was almost down in the parking lot when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Rough night, Winston?"

Turning back quickly, he was relieved to see it was only Tim Shepard, clutching a cigarette and looking as bad as he felt. Dallas was gratified to see the blue black bruise that had formed under Tim's left eye. It made the pain in his ribs that much more bearable.

"Throw us a cancer stick," Dallas said exhaustedly. His pack had either gone missing or he had smoked twenty in his sleep. Either way, he would kill for a drag right now.

"Eat shit," Shepard responded dully.

Dallas turned away, knowing he didn't have time for an argument, knowing it could be minutes before somebody showed up looking to haul him to jail or kick him all over the parking lot.

"So where's Sylvia these days?" Tim called after him tauntingly. "Not up to giving her what she wants, huh Dal?"

Keep walking, Dallas ordered himself. Keep walking, don't bite.

"Nah, just saving myself for your little sister, Shepard," his wayward mouth answered. It had always had a mind of its own.

He didn't hear Shepard steaming towards him until it was too late. After Tim leapt at him from behind, both boys went toppling forwards into the dirt.

"Get the fuck off!" Dallas cussed as Tim pinned him to the ground and aimed a blow at the back of his head. He groaned as he saw stars, and struggled to throw Tim off. Problem was, his ribs had taken the brunt of their fall and he could scarcely breathe now.

"Hey, Shepard and Winston are at it again!" Someone yelled from an upstairs window.

Dallas rolled his eyes. Broken ribs or not, he was no way gonna get beaten to a pulp in public. So he did the only thing a man can do when he's in a sticky situation. He got a hold of Tim's left arm and bit him. Hard.

"Holy fucking Christ!" Shepard bellowed as Dallas clung on with his teeth. With an elbow in the gut and a fair bit of wriggling, Dallas was finally free.

"Did you just bite me, you pussy?" Tim grunted in disbelief. They were both on their feet now, Dallas panting heavily and Tim staring in awe at the blood pouring from his bite wound.

"What's the problem? Your sister seems to like it," Dallas said through gulps of air. He didn't know why he couldn't shut up and walk away. A reputation was one hell of a thing to uphold.

Tim flew at him again and they started crossing the parking lot as they boxed. They were both hung over to hell, injured from the day before, and limping like geriatrics. Dallas decided Shepard's little sister could probably wipe the floor with the both of them at this moment in time.

Slowly, people started to traipse out of Bucks, some with OJ's, a few wearing no shoes, just to come outside and watch the festivities. Like he and Shepard throwing weak punches outside were actually something worth watching.

So much for a discreet fucking exit.

8888

Dallas wasn't sure when it was that the cops had showed up, but it must have been quite some time later because he remembered being actually relieved they were there. Imagine that, being relieved to see the feds when you were beating the life out of somebody. Well to be fair, Tim was giving just as good as he got. Dallas could scarcely stand by the time he felt the rough arm of Officer Carter propel him backwards and out of Tim's reach.

"Ah, Dallas Winston, just the man," Carter said with familiarity as he pulled Dallas' arm behind his back.

Dallas felt his ribs scream in protest and had to bite his lip to stop himself shouting out. Across from him he could see Shepard getting the same treatment from a younger officer. Of course, without so much conviction and pleasure. This was not his morning. How fucking typical that he got man handled by Carter, who had been up his arse for the last three years, while Tim got the rookie.

Buck was standing close by, a cigar clamped between his crooked teeth as he watched the proceedings. Dallas could tell he was pissed that the cops were here again but he said nothing aloud, just continued to smoke his cigar. The crowd was starting to disperse now, many people too young or too familiar to the cops to want to call attention to themselves.

"We were just on our way to find you when we got the call about a fight," Carter said, almost happily. "What do you know about two kids killing a boy in the park last night?"

"What you talking about? What fucking kids?" Dallas winced as Carter tugged on his arm tighter.

"One Ponyboy Curtis and one Johnathan Cade."

"Haven't seen 'em all week," Dallas lied, bucking against Carter's grip but only ending up at a more painful angle.

"Well, that's funny 'cause we got told that they were both here last night asking for you," Carter said sarcastically.

Dallas shot an angry look at Buck. He was the one who had opened the door to Pony and Johnny last night. Big mouth fool. Buck shrugged helplessly.

"So now we know you got something to hide," Carter grinned. "And thanks to your scrap with Timothy, we got every reason to haul you in."

His mouth was suffocatingly close to Dallas' face and he stank of coffee. It made Dallas want to puke.

"What you got to say to that, huh Winston?" Carter gave his arm another twist for good measure.

"If you're gonna haul me in, fucking do it," Dallas growled. "Just quit breathing on me, you fat fuck, before I pass out."

Carter instantly whipped out his baton and after he delivered an expert blow to the head, Dallas did in fact, pass out.