Author's Note: Some of you may or may not remember this fic from several years ago posted under my previous username of xxmuchluvinxx, which has been changed due to reasons that are probably very obvious lol. While the storyline for this fic will be similar to the original, quite a few large chunks of it have been changed and the whole thing has been rewritten so it will likely be very different to the version posted back in '09.

Please be aware that all familiar characters and locations belong to S.E. Hinton and her book, The Outsiders. The chapter title and lyrics throughout are from Rihanna's song, Man Down. And the title of this fic comes from the song of the same name by The Beatles.


Sunday, 8 December 1968

I can't even sleep at night

Can't get it off my mind

"He's gotta be here," Arnie Barnes told Curly Shepard and Glenn Abbott as he turned his car off of the Ribbon and into the parking lot of The Dingo to slowly cruise through the aisles of parked cars. It was early on a Sunday afternoon so naturally The Dingo was packed to the brim, but it didn't take long for the three boys to find the blue Ford belonging to none other than Mike Harvey. The boys should have known better, and a part of them all did. They all knew, deep down and at the back of their minds, that they should have been looking for Tim Shepard rather than Mike Harvey. Tim would know how to handle the situation correctly, and hunting down the leader of the Brumly Gang's right hand man was something close to the exact opposite of the right way to handle things. But all three of the boys were too drunk to think straight and the only thing on their minds was doling out some sweet payback...

What started out as a simple altercation

Turned into a real sticky situation

That morning had started off like any other Sunday morning had before Arnie had gotten himself thrown into the reformatory. He had woken up in a strange bed in a strange room, but next to a girl he had been just about bursting to see when he had been released the morning prior. Who would have thought that after a shotgun wedding, finding out it was all for nothing, and picking a nasty fight with a cop that Arnie would miss Angela fucking Shepard, of all people? The only possible explanation was that he had been surrounded by males for too long, that it wasn't Angela specifically he missed, but more the touch of a female in general.

He left Angela sleeping to head downstairs in search of something to chase away the nauseous feeling growing in his stomach, and found Curly and a couple of the other guys from the gang sitting at a table downstairs. He grunted a hello as he filled one of the vacant seats and didn't miss the look Dale Roberts gave Glenn Abbott during the short silence that followed.

"What?" Curly demanded, beating Arnie to the punch.

"Huh?" Dale responded, glancing at Curly and then back to Glenn, alarmed.

"There's somethin' you gotta say," Curly accused. Dale and Glenn had been acting a bit off since Curly had woken up and started drinking with them again about an hour ago and he was sick of the awkward little looks they kept giving each other and not being in on what they meant. "Say it."

Glenn sighed. "Don't shoot the messenger, man," he said as he grabbed at the bottle of whiskey sitting on the table and began pouring more shots, "but we heard some shit last night that you guys and Tim might wanna take care of." Curly darkened and Arnie tensed as Glenn glanced at Dale again and Dale, seemingly relieved at not having to be the one to deliver the news, shrugged nonchalantly and leaned back in his seat. "Craig Chambers, y'know, from the Tigers? He thought you and Angel had called it quits," Glenn explained to Arnie, "since she'd gone round with Mike Harvey last weekend."

There was a long pause. Dale looked at Arnie, then Curly, then decided that watching Buck grab a beer from the fridge and pass it to some guy at the bar was far more interesting than the current topic of conversation. Glenn slid two full shots toward Curly and Arnie. Both boys took their shots together and exhaled sharply, a bitter taste on their lips and in their throats.

"You wanna jump him?" Curly asked, turning to Arnie immediately.

"I want another shot," Arnie answered, sliding his shot glass back to Glenn who promptly refilled it and slid it back.

"Might wanna make sure it's true before stirring up shit," Glenn said as Arnie took his second shot. "For all we know it could be another Tiger runnin' his mouth."

"Yeah, and they'd love to see us at Brumly's throats, anything for a bit of entertainment," Dale pointed out reluctantly. It was a good point, but one that fell on ears that were either too drunk or too caught up in comprehending that his girl had slept around while he'd been locked up. It shouldn't have surprised Arnie, and really, it almost didn't. Angela had always been like that, and Arnie had clearly been foolish to think for a second that the ring she now wore on her finger meant any kind of loyalty. "And anyway, you should be talkin' to Tim before you go doin' anything," Dale added, crossing his arms and looking displeased, probably because he knew they wouldn't take his advice and he would have to be the one telling Tim what had happened.

"Have another two ready when I get back," Arnie ordered, slamming his shot back down onto the table and standing up so quickly he almost knocked his chair to the ground before heading back up the stairs he had only just come down.

He barged into the room he'd left Angela in and found her sitting on the bed, leaning down to slip on her shoes. "You screw around on me while I was inside?" He asked, towering over her.

Angela blinked up at him. "Course not," she said sweetly.

"So the Tiger sayin' you screwed Mike Harvey last weekend is a liar, is he?"

"Not up to me to say what he is and isn't." Angela flipped her hair over her shoulder and Arnie lunged forward, grabbing her by her upper arms and leaning down close to her face.

"I ain't kiddin', Angel," he said, his tone low and dangerous as he dug his fingers far enough into her arms for her to wince.

"He got me drunk," she said, glaring back up at Arnie. "It wasn't my fault." And for extra effect, as if she needed anything else to guarantee she'd be off the hook, she threw in, "I didn't want to," and that was all Arnie needed.

Had he been calmer, or had he not just started to feel the hum of alcohol throbbing through his blood, he probably would have doubted the credibility of her story, but instead he was livid, and what she had said was all he needed to go looking for trouble.

He stormed back downstairs red faced and when he tipped the shot of whiskey, and then another, down his throat he revelled in the way it burnt.

"I'm goin' to find him," Arnie said, slamming the second shot glass back down on the table, snatching up the whiskey bottle, and turning for the door. Curly and Glenn were up and following him a beat later, leaving Dale to explain to their ghosts why it really was best to involve Tim in this.

If you're playing me for a fool

I will lose my cool

And reach for my fire arm

"Are you sure you don't wanna wait for Tim at least?" Glenn asked for what seemed like the hundredth time during their search around town, which had only really consisted of stopping in at a few of the common greaser hangouts and sipping far too much whiskey than should be sipped whilst driving.

They were climbing out of Arnie's car and Curly could feel his heart beating hard against his chest in anticipation. Curly didn't care to know the number of boys that had messed around with his sister, he even chose to turn a blind eye to it sometimes, but he did care to know when somebody had really screwed with his sister, and Mike Harvey had done just that.

As the three boys neared the large entrance doors to The Dingo, Curly, despite the spinning of his vision and the large number of people milling about out the front, spotted Mike and made a beeline for him. Glenn and Arnie caught on a couple of seconds later and followed. Mike's back was to Curly as he chatted away to a smaller blonde girl, one he vaguely recognised as Rick Thomas' little sister, Katie, which gave Curly more than enough of an element of surprise. He swung his right fist when he was close enough and was satisfied with the loud sound it made when it came in contact with Mike's right cheekbone. Katie let out a shocked scream as Mike stumbled to the left and spun around to face Curly, all the while struggling to keep his footing.

Curly only had a second of disappointment that such a great hit hadn't knocked Mike straight to the ground before Rick Thomas pushed his way through the crowd, tucking his sister behind him whilst yelling "What the fuck was that for?" at Curly.

Curly opened his mouth to tell him exactly what it was for when he saw something behind him take Rick's attention, wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

"He got my wife drunk," Arnie shouted as Curly turned to find his best buddy, who he'd only just gotten back after three months away, holding a gun he hadn't even known he had, and it was aimed right at Mike, "and took advantage, the sick fuck."

Mike spat blood at the ground and Curly was momentarily triumphant. "She ain't no saint," he said and Curly made to go at him again, but was stopped by a hand grabbing at the collar of his shirt.

It was Rick's and Curly almost rounded on him with his fists, too, but stopped short when he saw Rick wasn't even paying any attention to him. His eyes were trained steady on Arnie and the hand that wasn't holding tightly onto Curly's collar was held out toward Arnie in a stop motion. The air, though as chilly as to be expected for early December, was thick with tension and Curly seemed to realise all at once in his drunken daze what the small group of hoods still gathered around had realised moments before; Arnie was ready to use that gun. He didn't know how he had missed it before, missed the slightly crazed look in Arnie's eyes, because now it was clear as day. His friend had lost his fucking mind.

Curly lunged at Arnie as the gun fired and he knew even before he ripped himself out of Rick's grasp and before his body collided with Arnie's and tackled him to the ground that he was too late. He was too drunk; he hadn't noticed what he should have noticed earlier. He had seen his friend with a gun in his hands and immediately thought it was just for show, not for actual use.

The two boys hit the ground hard and Curly let Arnie wrestle out of his hold, too transfixed by the amount of blood pooled around where Mike had fallen to the ground motionless. All he could hear as he got to his feet was the ringing in his ears as he looked around for where Arnie had run off to, but couldn't see him anywhere – the only face he recognised was Glenn's, who looked about as disoriented as Curly felt. The small crowd that had been gathered around had brought more people out of The Dingo, and beyond the ringing in his ears he could hear the din of yelling from the blurred faces around him and the sound of sirens in the distance. And then hands were on his shoulders, spinning him around to face someone.

Tim was in his face, looking him right in the eyes, yelling. "Are you alright?" Muffled, but Curly heard him. "Are you hurt?" Tim yelled, eyes raking in the rest of him, when Curly didn't respond. His fingers crushed Curly's shoulders and that seemed to wake him up. He shook his head and glanced back at where Mike had been standing. He couldn't see him through all the people, but noticed Rick Thomas was pulling himself back from the group and pulling his sister with him.

Tim stepped forward ahead of Curly as Rick turned and glared at him. "I'm gonna make you," Rick started, coming to stand in front of Tim and pointing an accusatory finger at Curly, "and every one of your boys wish they'd never been born." The sound of police sirens rang louder as they made their way down the Ribbon toward The Dingo. Rick and Tim both glanced over at the street as the first one sped into the parking lot. "That's a promise, Shepard." He turned and took off for his car, Katie stumbling behind him. Curly didn't miss the flecks of blood that marred her face, nor the way Rick's shirt dripped with it, and for a moment he thought he might hurl.

Tim spat at the ground Rick had just vacated, his eyebrows drawn together in a deadly scowl. "Pete's here somewhere, go find him," Tim ordered, turning to Curly. Any other time Curly would have been pissed about being told to go find Tim's right hand man, purely because Tim's right hand man wasn't him, but right then he didn't want any part of it. As usual his reckless behaviour had gotten them all into trouble, and he didn't want to stick around and listen to Tim tell him so.

I didn't mean to lay him down

But it's too late to turn back now

Don't know what I was thinking


Reviews would make my day, really! And if any of you have some concrit, please feel free to give it - if there's something I can improve, I'd like to know about it :)