So, yeah, this is a Dally sister fic, but I'm hoping it'll be less Mary-Sue-ish and less OOC that the rest. I don't know, personally it bothers me when people portray Dally as this really heartfelt guy on the inside and all that, how he becomes all protective and stuff. I don't know. I have nothing against people who write him this way, but that's just not how I see him. So. Yeah. Enjoy. Or not. Whatever.
Dally never did treat me special. I mean, I wasn't his enemy or anything, but to him, I guess I was just another one of the gang. He cared about me, but not more than he did Ponyboy, or Steve. We were just buddies, sort of. I didn't hang around him a lot of the time. Since he slept at Buck's most nights, and I hated it there, I stayed with the Curtis's one their couch. They didn't mind. It didn't bother me, the indifference Dally showed me. It was normal. Never had been any other way. The nicest thing Dally had ever done for me was take me with him when he left New York. I would never stop being thankful for that. But only in my head. Dally wouldn't like me being super grateful.
In fact, I was closer to Soda than anyone. When I was sick, it was him that stayed by my side. When I got busted up in a rodeo (I barrel raced, more dangerous that it sounds), he was the one who fixed me up, then told me I did a damn good job staying on as long as I had. We just dig each other. Pony, even though he's a year older is sorta like a twin brother. We're real close. Not like Soda and me, but we're good friends. He doesn't mind sharing his brother. I think they feel sorry for me. They feel bad for me because I got a brother who doesn't really care one way or another for me, and I got nothing else. Which I guess is why they don't mind me hanging out with them and living in their house and stuff. I was careful to stay outa their way though. I never asked them to go anywhere with them, they asked me. I guess I never quite believed it though, I kept expecting there to the a catch. Though I loved them all, I was never perfectly comfortable.
I was only about seven when we left New York, but I remember how rough it had been. Then was when Dally taught me stuff. He taught me how to look after myself. He gave me a blade, and showed me how to use it too. I wondered if that was why he didn't really look after me. Because I could take care of myself. It didn't bother me none. I think that's why he liked Johnny so much too. Because Johnny needed someone to look up to. He needed an example, someone who could help him stand up for himself. And though I do believe Dally was rough, I think he needed someone to look after. To teach. I'm not a believer that Dally was some great person because of Johnny. I just think he cared about him a little more that the rest of us.
"Reagan?" I heard the voice came through the walls of the bathroom. "Reagan, are you alright?" It's Soda. Of course. I clutched my stomach, trying to determine if I was gonna puke again. When I figured it was a no, I came out, still holding onto my stomach for dear life. Soda instantly noticed.
"Reagan, are you okay? You look really pale... Is your stomach okay?" He asked. I managed a nod. "Are you sick?" I shook my head. "Was it that horse of yours?" This time I nodded. I managed to gasp in a big breath of air.
"Got kicked... stomach..." I desperately tried to suck down air, but I kept coming up almost empty.
"Lemme see." He ordered. I shook my head. "Reagan, don't be stupid. With your luck and that dumb horse he mighta hit something serious."
"Wasn't his fault... I was... walking behind him." Just the same, I lifted my shirt a little bit to show the purplish bruise covering my lower stomach. Soda whistled.
"How you even got here is a miracle. I can't believe you can walk."
"Adrenaline." I managed. I hadn't really felt the kick until walking through the door, when I had a sudden urge to give up my lunch. I had just won a class when I walked behind the big black gelding I rode, Hawke, to talk to this kid I knew from school. I guess I forgot to talk to the horse or whatever because the next thing I know I'm sitting I the ground with a bruise already forming on my stomach. People kept asking if I was alright, but as I said, I didn't feel the kick until later. Then Soda found me.
"Let me see that more." I sighed, and Lifted my shirt up a little further. This would've been awkward with anyone else, but Soda didn't seem to notice. He gently touched it, and I winced. He stood up, towering over me, and I tugged my shirt down.
"I'm okay." He nodded.
"I don't think anything's seriously hurt. I'd take it easy for a little while though." I grinned at the absurdity of his diagnosis. He grinned too. He knew how hard it was for me to sit still as well as anyone.
"You heard him, take it easy." I jumped, and whirled around, before realizing that might not be a good idea. Groaning, I held onto myself. Dally smirked, from where he leaned against the doorframe. I rolled my eyes. Every once and I while he had those those brotherly moments, but, lets face it, he just liked bossing me around. I would tell him to stuff it, but he would punch me just as hard as anyone else who told him that, so I figured after a moment's consideration that I should follow my own advice and stuff it.
"Yeah, yeah." I muttered. I went to flop down on the couch, before realizing that it was occupied entirely by a long lanky figure. With red sideburns. He groaned, and stuffed his face into the pillows of the couch some more. I decided to just go ahead and sit on him. I curled up on my usual spot on the end, sitting on his feet. He looked up, then went back to groaning. He probably had a hangover. I, for one, couldn't see why he would ever want to come here to sleep off a hangover- this house was a freaking madhouse sometimes, but whatever.
I guess I had fallen asleep on that couch because the next thing I knew I was being shaken gently.
"Hey kid, get up. Reagan! It's time for work!" I moaned, and sat up. The room came swimming into focus and I blinked against the bright lights. I never really went to school. I mean, I was supposed to be smart, but I just couldn't sit still long enough to go. And it wasn't like Dally cared or anything. Pony was real smart. He liked school well enough and Darry made him go anyway. Darry didn't make me do much. He used to try to get me to go to school, but after he realized I'd been skipping the entire school year, he gave up. I was related to Dally by blood after all. I did like writing poems though. Pony helped me sometimes with spelling and read them over. Johnny read them too. He didn't really go to school, but he liked to hear the sound of the words. Sometimes I think he got them more than I did. It was nice to have someone to talk to about that. Darry was to busy, and Soda was less literate that me, and Steve, Two-Bit and especially Dally would think I was off my rocker if I talked to them about poetry.
I worked at a diner called Rusty's. It was an okay place. It was greaser territory- there was no way I'd work for Socs, everyone made sure of that, especially Dally and Steve who hated them the most- but it was much less rough than say, the Dingo. I waitressed full time there.
Usually I sit in the bed of the pickup truck, I don't mind, and it's less crowded than three to the front, but today Soda took pity on me and by abused stomach and gave me shotgun. I smiled gratefully at him, and he winked.
I smiled winningly at Steve as he dropped me off, and he rolled his eyes.
"No one's gonna fall for that you know." He grumbled.
"Fall for what?" I asked, batting my eyelashes.
"The innocent look." I took this as a challenge.
"I bet you a buck that I can make fifteen dollars in tips today. We'll see who falls for what." He nodded.
"Deal." Then he zoomed away, leaving Soda in hysterics still in the bed of the truck.
I must say, I laid the charm on pretty thick. Smiling at everyone who came in, sashaying instead of walking, the works. And it paid off. Literally. Especially in men. At the end of the say I made twenty dollars and seventy cents in tips.
The look on Steve's face was priceless. He started stuttering, and his face turned red. Soda was laughing again, and I would have too, but my stomach was bothering me. Steve handed over a buck, and I pocketed it grinning widely. He let me and Soda off at Soda's house before speeding away, knocking over a trash can, swearing, and continuing.
As soon as I got in the door I sagged, and sat myself gently on the couch. Soda was instantly at my side.
"Are you alright? Is it where you got kicked?" He asked. I nodded.
"Yeah. I'm alright though. Just hurts. Kinda a bunch." I smiled to show it wasn't too bad. It was pretty obvious that Soda didn't buy it though. The screen door the the house banged open and Dally, Pony, Johnny, and Two-Bit came in. I rolled my eyes and scooted over on the couch. Dally sat down hard next to me, making the whole couch shake, and Johnny sat next to him, though much more gently.
"Hey kid." Dally said, directing his words in my general direction, while digging in his jacket for a cigarette. Soda turned his attention back to me.
"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked. I nodded. Fabulous. The one thing I wanted was for everyone to know that I was hurt.
"Horse?" Dally asked. I nodded. "That damn creature is gonna kill you someday you know." He muttered. Soda nodded.
"He's the wildest horse I ever met."
"But he's fast." I objected. "He's not too bad anymore. It was worse before." This was true, when I first started riding Hawke no one would even touch him he was so wild. He'd bite and and kick anyone who even when within a yard of him. When I managed to halter him and bring him out to a pasture people thought it was a miracle. That was when I started working him. It took months before I could ride him without falling off, and even now he has violent episodes, but he's the fastest barrel racer I've encountered as of yet. He's better than the horses that Dally jockeys with, that's for damn sure. Dally knows it too, but he doesn't care.
"Doesn't mean he's good," I heard Darry grumble. I jumped. I hadn't heard him come in.
"Well, it doesn't matter, because it's fine. I'm fine." I tried to talk with finality, but obviously that didn't work.
"I don't want you on that horse for another week." Darry instructed. I rolled my eyes. He should know by now that telling me to do stuff doesn't work. I do share Dally's genes after all.
"Please," Soda added. I nodded. It was very hard to say no to Soda. I didn't know Darry particularly well, despite living with him for years, but Soda had become my non-existent supportive bog brother. He looked out for me in a away that no one else ever had. Dally had kept me alive and little else in New York. But Soda, he did everything he could for me. If there was something wrong, he was the only person I truly felt comfortable coming to. He knew me the best to. He never tried to push me around. He had found that asking made me much less inclined to disobey just in spite.
"I guess I'll try." But really, I hated being away from Hawke. Every time I was away from him for more than a couple days he forgot what I had taught him last time.
"I don't want you to go to work tomorrow either." I sighed. Loudly.
"Fine. I'm going to the park!" I called as an after-thought. I didn't bother to ask permission.
"Don't climb a tree!" Two-Bit called after me.
"As if!" I yelled back. "Still, I could do it better than you with a broken arm!"
"You little-" I kept walking, knowing that he was to lazy to get up and actually get me. After a few minutes I noticed someone following me.
"What, don't trust me not to get in trouble?" I asked, calling over my shoulder without seeing who it was.
"No." I turned. Johnny was striding behind me, with his hands jammed into his pockets.
"Oh. Sorry. I didn't know it was you." No one in our gang ever yelled at Johnny. Not even Dally.
"That's okay." We walked in silence for a few minutes. I always appreciated that about Johnny, he could accept being quiet. In fact he seemed to like it.
"Thanks for coming." I said finally. "I guess I needed some company."
"No problem." He smiled. "What's it like? Being Dal's sister?" I shrugged.
"I don't know. It don't really make any difference. I guess he's a bit more decent, but only because he's related to me. I mean, he'd slug me just as soon as he would any one else. Sooner maybe." Johnny shrugged.
"Naw, he couldn't hit you. The boys would have a fit." I laughed.
"Like he would give a shit."
"Soda would beat him up. I bet Two-Bit and Darry would help too. They like you pretty well." I grinned.
"Well, I'm flattered... Johnny? Can I ask you something?"
"Sure." I pondered on how to put the words together. I knew Johnny was sensitive, and I sure didn't want to upset him, but this had been bugging me for a while.
"Why do you even bother going home? Why not live at the Curtis'? You know they'd be glad to take you." He shrugged.
"Yeah, I know. But I mean, they're my parents. I can't just leave. Suppose one day they'll care and I'll be gone?" I realized then just how different things were between me and Johnny. Even though his folks beat him around all the time, he honestly thought that one day they might regret it. Whereas I knew that Dally and my old man didn't give a hang whether or not we were drunk, or in jail, or dead in a sewer. I knew that nothing was going to change that, and I accepted it. I didn't consider myself pessimistic, just realistic. But Johnny held onto the tiny little thread of hope he had and refused to let go.
So, how was that? I know I sound like every other feedback hungry person on fanfiction, but I'm dying to know what you guys think. By the way, I do have a plan for the rest of the story (for those of you who know me, you heard right, I have a plan), but I'm not going to share it at this moment in time. Please let me know what you thought, any comments, suggestions. Anything would be greatly appreciated. Thanks so much,
~Cozy