Chapter Four: Moonlit Stroll

Note: This chapter is dedicated to Mrs. Benji Madden! Thank you MUCHLY for your reviews, and in response: Yes. Dally is drop dead gorgeous.

(Aubrey's POV)

"Ugh, it's cold in here" I muttered to myself, rubbing my arms as I pulled the blanket up to my chin. I was having trouble sleeping in the dead quiet again. Well, maybe Tulsa isn't the quietest place, but once you're used to parties and car crashes regularly in Austin and New York anything else was eerily quiet. All I could hear was a sort of restless tapping outside, and finally my brain zeroed in on something, tapping. I rolled over to my side and looked out of the window. To the inexperienced there would be nothing strange about how the light from the streetlamps filtered through the dirty, foggy window, but to me it was a lifeline. I climbed out of bed as quietly as possible and pulled a jacket over my tank top. My pajama pants came down past my feet, so I pulled on some boots too. I opened the window, and it creaked loudly, I paused to listen and see if anyone had heard…nothing moved and I slid out of the open window, not closing it. It had always been a signal between Soda and I when we were kids and sneaking out regularly. I stumbled outside thinking vaguely, that it was even colder out of doors than inside and I wonderedif I should close the window to keep heat in. I shrugged it off though, thinking to myself "They're asleep anyway with any luck." I stood there for a moment and then reached down and knocked on the head of the boy crouching beside me. He sprang up.

"Hey kid," he said with a vague, grim grin and a drag from his cigarette.

"Same age as you," I argued softly.

"Few months younger," he shot back.

"Dammit," I muttered happily.

"Don't say that," he cautioned soberly.

"C'mon MOTHER lets take a walk," I said, afraid that our chattering would wake up someone (namely Ponyboy because Soda and Darry always slept like they were dead). As we wandered away from the small, tattered house I removed the cigarette from his mouth and took a long drag, then gave it back to him.

"It's been a while" Dally remarked in a softer voice than what was normal for him. By this time we were walking past Johnny's house, people were screaming inside. Dally let out a long sigh. "His parents make me sick."

"Yeah, they make me sick too. They're worse than…" I trailed off.

"Worse than what?" Dally asked.

"Nothing," I said quickly, maybe too quickly because it made Dally suspicious. I had been close to mentioning my first step-father, the unlovable man who found his daily joy in beating me senseless. Somehow, I felt like sharing that with Dallas would not be the best idea.

"What were you going to say?" he asked in a dangerously intimidating voice. I gave an involuntary shudder but quickly got over it. This Dally might have not have been the one I'd spent nights in an alley wrapped in newspaper with, but he used to be that Dally, and I didn't think he'd hurt me.

"Nothing," I said again. He didn't say anything for a minute and I thought he'd given up. I was wrong, even in my memories of younger Dally he'd never been one to give up so easily. After a while he spoke again.

"They been treating you okay?" he asked.

"Sure," I answered, not catching the look he gave me.

"Darry's not hitting you or anything is he?" he inquired. I stopped in my tracks, turned and looked at him, amazed.

"Gosh no!" I said, surprised. He looked a bit miffed.

"Just makin' sure," he said gruffly, beginning to walk again. I grabbed his wrist, anyone else would've turned to face me but Dally was too stubborn, so I had to walk around in front of him.

"I can take care of myself now. I've grown up since when we were 14." I told him. He threw his cigarette down and exhaled so that smoke left his mouth and nostrils in a cloud.

"I know," he said looking down, at the last orange light of his cigarette. We walked on again in silence, until at long last we reached the park. I hurried over to my favorite swing, and took a seat. He leaned against the post it was hanging on. Neither of us spoke, I was uncomfortable. "Why am I uncomfortable with Dally?" I questioned myself. Dally and I didn't have the almost psychic connection I shared with Soda. He was hard to read, I couldn't tell what he was thinking. After a while the tension was killing me and I spoke.

"I missed you," I mentioned, simply enough, not too much emotion or attachment. No answer. I waited, still no answer. Finally he spoke to me.

"You just left," he said, his voice sounding so painfully innocent that I wanted to squeal in surprise. I couldn't have possibly felt any worse if he'd told me he hated me and shoved his blade in between my ribs. A lump formed in my throat.

"I-I know, I'm so sorry," I choked out. I touched his hand but he pulled away quickly, it hurt my feelings even more deeply.

"I waited for you," he whispered, his voice raspy. He seemed to be actively ignoring me, or perhaps he was so wrapped up that he didn't comprehend that I was speaking. "I stayed in that alley, and you never came. Someone told me after a couple of days—no they asked me if they'd had Annie's funeral yet. I didn't even know she was dead," he said in a low growling voice. I felt my lip tremble. I wished momentarily I was still unable to cry. He didn't seem to notice how upset I was getting; either that or he didn't care. "Finally I gave up," he muttered, his voice getting bitter. We sat in silence for a minute before I tried my voice out again.

"My step-dad…he… he let someone kill her in his place… he owed some money or something. My mom… when I came home from school she was ready to leave. I tried to get to you and tell you, I wanted you to come with us, but she said I didn't have time to talk to you. I tried… I tried," I whispered, my voice cracking. I tried to make my eyes show him that I was begging for his forgiveness.

"My dad moved us away after that though, I didn't wanna go…I thought you were coming back," he whispered, continuing as if I'd never spoken. I was absolutely heartbroken. We didn't say anything else.

----

As I climbed back through the window I felt his hand touch the small of my back. I turned around quickly, wondering if he were going to yell at me, and sort of wishing he would so I wouldn't have to last through anymore of his heartbreaking softness. Instead he pulled his hand away too quickly and looked into my eyes, before avoiding them again. "I missed you too."