"Hey, fucking listen to me, will you?" Curly shouted, angry as fuck at the equally angry Dallas Winston.

"What!" The angry hood known by the name Dallas snapped and few seconds after a beer bottle hit the wall, breaking into a billion small pieces. "Why you always gotta be such a fucking drama queen?" Dallas added on, screaming by now, earning a "fuck you" shrieked by Curly. Dallas shook his head. He'd had enough of Curly's shit by now. He was so fucking moody and it was fucking killing him! Why couldn't he just calm the fuck down and let Dallas explain himself for fuck's sake? Hell, not even Sylvia was that moody.

"No! Fuck you! I don't wanna 'fucking listen to you' when you just gonna excuse me for fucking Sylv!" He shouted as he saw Curly clench his jaw.

"What you expect me to think? You spent the night there! How fucking naïve you think I am?" Curly, once again shrieked. Of course Curly wasn't aware that Sylvia was dying from cancer and at that night, she had been so weak, Dallas didn't dare to leave, afraid she would be dead when he came back. Yes, Dally and Sylvia had split but that didn't mean he loved her any less, because he did in fact love her. However, it was more like a friend or a sister. A good friend or sister that is. Curly didn't get it though, that Dallas loved her, but not the same way he loved Curly. He was far too jealous, far too scared of losing Dally to realize that. Dallas shot a glare at Curly, scowling.

"Shut the fuck up about her before I beat your sorry ass!" he snapped, causing Curly to growl like a animal.

"You slept with her! I knew it! You slept with that tramp!" Curly hissed. He shouldn't have though. He really shouldn't. He crossed the line. Blew it. Dallas was pissed the fuck off.

Dallas punched Curly, broke his jaw, punched him again, and again. Kicked him, punched him, beat the living shit out of that man. Of course, Dallas would regret. But not now. Curly couldn't take it, collapsing, sobbing in pain. But Dallas was too angry. Too fucking pissed off. So, so, so angry. Too angry to stop. He kicked his ribs, stomach and chest. Blood was escaping wounds all over on Curly's body.

Dallas looked down on Curly, there was still no remorse in his eyes. He couldn't take it, hearing words like that being said by Curly, he fucking knew how much Sylvia meant to him. Sylvia and Dallas had always been cheating on each other. They had a silent understanding of each other. They never asked but both knew exactly when the other one was hurting and then they would silently sit in each other's arms. It was nice, to have someone understanding your pain without having to talk about it.

So, Dallas didn't handle it when people talked about Sylvia like that, or said it straight in her face. Then he got beyond fucking pissed off. Dally looked on Curly. The boy was twisting in pain, crying, bleeding. But Dallas didn't feel remorse, still no fucking remorse. That took a while. Both Dallas and Curly wasn't quite sane to be honest. Dallas crouched down and grabbed one of Curly's hands. Dallas knew that what he was planning to do wasn't a good thing, not a good thing at fucking all. He wasn't a good boyfriend, not a good fiancé. But he was a hood, he didn't care. Not now at least. "She." He said and broke one finger of Curly's hand and a sharp and short scream came. "Is." And a new scream came. "Not." Another sharp scream, even worse now, came from Curly. "A." a new finger broken, a new scream from Curly. "Tramp." Dallas broke his thumb, a new scream, no, it was more like a sob, came from Curly this time.

Curly couldn't move anymore. It hurt too much. Dally clenched his jaw. "never say that again. Never!" he snapped before kicking Curly's face harsh, roughly. He knew it would be next to impossible to recognize Curly by now. A bloody pulp. That's what Curly was now. Maybe that's why there was no remorse. He couldn't recognize him at the moment. But that's a whole lot of bullshit because the remorse was there by now. Strong. Dallas realized what he had done. It was always like this, they both beat the shit out of each other. And every time, they were just as scared of losing the hurt one. Because Dallas wasn't even sure if Curly would survive this. How could he? He was…he was so broken down…

Dallas ran a hand through his hair, panic was starting to grasp him as well. Suddenly, Tim Shepard walked in. The older Shepard, Curly's big brother looked on Dallas and then on Curly and then on Dallas again. Fire was being lit in his eyes. Tim Shepard, the gang leader, was very protective of little brother. Sure, he didn't mind if his brother was beaten up in a fight or something, but this, this was bad! Tim growled at Dallas, a harsh and dangerous growl.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he knew it was Dallas, he could see the guilt in his eyes.

"He fucking deserved it…" Dallas mumbled, trying to convince Tim, but mostly himself that it was the truth. Curly did deserve it. No…he didn't deserve it. Fuck no. A punch maybe, but not this. Of course, this counted for the endless times Curly had gone into his more animal like behavior states and fucking beat Dallas near to death. Because…they were always like that…They couldn't control it…

Dallas looked on Curly, he didn't know if he was awake, dead, sleeping or unconscious. He had both of his eyes closed. Dallas hoped he was sleeping but knew he properly didn't. Curly never slept anywhere else than in a corner.

"Leave." Tim said coldly to Dallas and for once, Dallas did listen to him. But not straight away. He leaned down and kissed Curly's lips. It felt like a bit of heaven opened though, when he felt there was a weak return in a short kiss. Dallas stroke his cheek, whispering a kind of sorry before he left.

He went to Buck's. Got drunk as fuck. It was properly over. Curly would never ever fucking forgive him. Not now. Who could forgive someone that beat them like that? And it was then a terrifying thought really crossed his mind. What if he was dead now? Maybe that response in that kiss…what if the was the last thing Curly ever did? What if he killed him?

What if his…his dear fucking Curly was dead, because of him? What was he gonna do then?

Dallas should have gone straight back to the Shepard's house, but no..of course not, he was too fucking good to do that! No…he felt too much guilt…he felt so guilty. He even tried to go to Sylvia but before he even reached the house, he turned. Too guilty to do that. He couldn't visit her now. Not after this…

He went back to Buck's, up to his room. He didn't manage to sleep, didn't have the guts to sleep. Too many nightmares. He sat up the whole night, staring up in the ceiling, not knowing how to handle this wave of guilt. He felt guilt for a whole lot of things. His mother's death, especially. If Curly died now…what would happen? How was…how was life going to…He couldn't go back to not having someone to love like that. Not even with Johnny, when Johnny had been alive, it had been like this.

Curly had been a kind of rebound after Johnny's death, but of course, Dallas and Johnny was never lovers, they were like brothers! But there was something..Curly had brought out a part of him he didn't know he had, and if he had to bury it now…How was that possible?

It took Dallas three days to get to the Shepard's house. He even knocked on the door. Tim opened the door, no surprise there.

"I needa talk to Curly." Dallas mumbled, leaning on the doorframe, for the first time, nervous around Tim. He was never nervous around people!

"He's not here." Was the answer. Dallas widened his eyes. What? Was he…no…He couldn't be dead. But he wasn't healthy enough to…to…to be out of the fucking house!

"Where the hell is he? Tim, where is he? What did you do to him?" He was about to shove his way inside, when Tim shoved him away from the door.

"You won't see him again. He's gone, you'll never see him again. He's in an institution." Tim said, and Dallas blinked, stepping back, as if Tim was a monster.

"What? You..you sent him to the looney bin? You promised him..You promised him never to send him away again!" Dallas snapped, the agony of loosing his Curly cutting through his voice.

"No! Somewhere he can get fucking help! Get a little bit of sanity, get off those drugs, everything! Get him off the fucking queer syndrome." Tim said and Dallas face fell. But…deep down, deep, deep down he knew it was the right thing to do.

"He…he won't have contact with..with anyone from Tulsa again. Never again. Simba is going to be…killed tomorrow." Tim muttered and Dallas realized that Tim took this bad too. Sending away his kid brother had to be hard.

"Let me take Simba.." Dallas said. Curly's lion. God, god how he hated that lion. But Curly, Curly loved it. Curly was so connected with cats. The whole boy was like a cat in human shell.

"Okay…It's in his room. Just…go and take it. I'm going to Buck's." Tim said and before Dallas really got to think properly, Tim was gone.

He went up the stairs and heard someone call his name and he turned, looking at the door. Tim had walked back and scratched his neck. "Um….He made him jot down a few words for him…They're on his bed." He said before skipping off again.

Dallas walked up to Curly's room, opened the door. Simba was laying on his pillow near the corner Curly had his own pillow and blanket in. Curly was too paranoid to sleep in his own bed. Dallas gulped. He didn't like this, he didn't like how his eyesight was getting cloudy. He laid eyes on the note and stopped dead in his track. He took it and sat down on the bed, the lion getting up, walking over to its new owner and laid it's head on Dallas knee as if he knew Dallas would be his new master.

Dallas never liked that lion and that lion never liked Dallas but now they both were missing Curly. Dallas started reading the note, recognizing it as Tim's writing yet, defiantly Curly's words.

To Dally.

I aint likin this. I don't wanna go. But Tim is makin me. But its not your fault! I shouldn't have gotten mad. But imma get out real soon. I already miss you. I hope you're not mad at me. Tim tried to take off the ring and the necklace. But I didn't let him. Cause we're still engaged, right? Imma say I'm engaged if someone asks me at least. I really love you. And what happened was my fault. And Dallas, don't die from me. You need to be alive so I can find you. Please don't forget me and don't let Tim kill Simba. Love you more than anything.

-Curly Shepard.

When Dallas was done, his eyes were wet and streams of tears was running down his cold cheek. Was he gonna be alone now? Wasn't he gonna be allowed to hold Curly's warm body against his cold one? Dally had already lost Johnny, now he had lost Curly and he would lose Sylvia. The three fucking persons that meant the most to him. He fell asleep on the bed, the lion guarding the bed, guarding the last memories of Curly.

Two weeks later, the funeral of Sylvia was. She had died in Dally's arms. Dallas was nothing but a empty shell now. If it wasn't for the fact that Curly had pleaded him to stay alive, Dally would of shot his brains out. After leaving his ring, which Sylvia usually wore, on her grave and putting on the ring Curly used to wear before they got 'engaged', Dally left town. Only bringing three things. The ring, the blade he got from Curly and Simba.

Ten years went. Dallas was twenty-seven. Curly was twentyfive…wherever he was. Dallas didn't know if Curly was out of the institution. Didn't know if he was alive. Going from town to town, still hoping to find him. He never once forgot him. That little shit had corrupted his head for fuck's sake! Dallas went in and out of jail, every time just as surprised to find the lion still waiting for him and not leaving or getting killed instead.

Dallas was once again in jail. This time in Texas. He was alone in the cell, but he had heard that there was to come another inmate to share the cell. Some wacko drugdealing as well as addicted to the shit he was dealing. Dally wasn't very pleased about this idea of course. He hated drug addicts. He hated drugs. How they had fucked up Curly….Damn, no, no drugs for him!

The cell door was opened and a man was shoved in. The guard was gone before the man managed to get himself up his feet. He was a skinny thing, that had been shoved in. Shivering, shaking thing. Brown hair. Dallas stared at the body with cold, cold eyes, ready to give him a living hell. But as the guy scrambled up on his feet and stared at Dallas, those cold, cold eyes melted. Melted down to those drop gorgeous chocolate brown eyes. A smile, a wicked one, came to his lips. A smile was starting to show on the guy's lips too. That…that empty place in Dallas's heart was starting to warm up. Getting filled again.

Dallas stood up from the bed he had been sitting in and shoved the guy in the wall, ignoring that it properly hurt, grabbing his collar and pulling him into a passionate kiss, a oh so passionate kiss. The guy returned it, with just as much wild, wicked, passion.

The kiss ended and the two pressed their foreheads together and stared into each others eyes. They smiled, they laughed, both happy, happier than ever. "I love you." It was dallas's voice. "I love you too." Curly answered, kissing him softly again. Everything was back to how it was supposed….