DISCLAIMER: Susan Eloise Hinton owns all.... the usual :)

-The Funeral no one Really Wanted-

There was barely a funeral for little Johnnycake at all. His fucking parents didn't even appear until it was nearly over. The drunks. They never really cared for Johnny, never did and never will.

I watched from the other side as the Cade Woman walked over to his tombstone. She just looked at it and went back to her gin. It made me angry. Johnny deserved better parents, we were only his brothers, nothing more. He didn't really want them, but he needed them. Johnny didn't know about parental love. I always told him I don't matter, look how well I turned out without love! Exactly why he needed them. I never wanted the life of a Greaser for the kid. It just happened.

I watched his dad lean against the fence of the local Oklahoma graveyard, having a smoke. I swear if I had a heater (slang for gun) I'd shoot his sorry head in. I didn't realize that I was full-on focusing on the Cades until someone nudged me.

"Come on Dally." It was Darryl. He was looking down at me, his face hard and soft all at once. He had to keep up the hard demeanor for us Greasers, but we knew better. He was also very close to Johnny, we were a family.

I stepped up to his tombstone. In a messy carving, it read; 'Johnny Cade, Local Hero'- I bet the stupid parents didn't even tell the coroner how old little Johnnycake was, just like how they refused to pay for the funeral, we did.

"…Johnny, I'm really proud of you, little buddy, you're better off-" I couldn't continue. It was wrong. It was all wrong. I didn't even believe in heaven. Not realizing I was crying, I collapsed onto the ground, getting dirt on my worn jeans.

"J-Johnny… How could you l-leave me? Her-here?" I stareted to pound on the ground, as if desperate for him to wake up and answer me with the wit that he was so sharp with. But he didn't.

"Come on mate," Two-bit said quietly, reaching down for my hand. I ignored him. I'll get up whenever I'm done.

I heard the others walk over and say their epitaphs, but all I saw were their shoes. Like it really mattered at all- it wasn't like Johnny could hear them. Of course, my nervous breakdown didn't go un-noticed.

"You bunch of filthy orphans- I reckon Johnny is better of where is now. With the dirt." The Cade Woman spat at us.

Steve was going to say some very choice words but Darry and Ponyboy held him back. That was the last straw with these fucking people.

"Better than you! No wonder why he never sleeps at home, he has to see your drunken faces when he wakes up! That is, if you haven't sold him off for money or something!" I screamed at them, making a dash from the funeral.

"Wait- Dallas!" Sodapop called after me.

Another Curtis, why can't they leave me alone?

Deep down I knew I was jealous. Of their family, all tight-knit and lovey dovey. I only ever rally cared for one person- and I had left his funeral early. That was because I had no-one else.

I kicked a soda can away from me as I sauntered away, so preoccupied that I didn't even see the canary yellow Mustang trailing me until it was too late.

"What the-" I muttered as it stopped in front of me.

Five Socs' hopped out, with at least two holding something that looks remotely like bats and blades.

"Look at that Andy, a lone Greaser. Coming from a funeral to we sees." Says the biggest one.

His posse laughes. I leaned against the brick wall and played my cool. After all, they were in our territory. "So? I hear you've been to one recently too."

The big one's eyes narrowed and I casually flicked my lighter open for a smoke. "Quiet some mouth you got there, want us to clean it out for you Greaser?"

One of his friends said, moving in closer.

"Nah, I'll be just fine thank you." I said, meeting his eyes whilst casually reaching into my pocket for the trusty switchblade I always carried around.

"That's it, let's make his face pretty now boys."

And they shoved me against the wall. I could smell the cheap cologne and aftershave. It was almost puke-inducing really.

My first Outsiders FanFic, what do you think about it? Too... depressing... to crap? Constructive critsism welcome, I might continue one with the is one :)

xx Kate