A/N: How are you, fantastic readers of the world? Did you have a good holiday? Sound off in the comments, tell us about it! We both had a decent time, though holidays aren't completely our favorite time of year. Having breaks from school is always good, though XD. Anyway, thanks soooo much for all the favorites, follows, and reviews! You guys are awesome and your reviews really spur us to keep writing, so keep on doing that :D! This chapter is in Kris's perspective and contains some much-needed Dally and Kris bonding, so yay! We really hope you'll like this chapter, and please read, review, and enjoy! :)

Warning: There's some profanity 'cause an angry Kris is a swearing Kris XD.

P.S. Happy New Year everyone!

Chapter 10: Bad to the Bone (or so They Say)

Kristina's Perspective

This conversation was going in circles! So, yeah, I advanced it a little. Maybe a little too much, and a bit too bluntly, but with how the confrontation was going, the secrets probably wouldn't have been divulged in the next twenty-four hours.

The moment I said that all eyes landed on me and then to Echo. She creased her eyebrows together, bewildered. "What? It wasn't a big deal. Look at me, I am fine," she said, completely oblivious to the marks on her neck. A couple of us giggled at her ignorance but Darry's glare shut us up real fast.

"It wasn't a big deal?" Darry yelled, taking two long and purposeful strides to stand next to her. He roughly lifted up her chin, causing her to flinch in pain. His eyes stretched wide as he noticed the thick bruises.

I pointed to my neck when Echo looked at me curiously and she ran to look into the bathroom mirror. "Oh, didn't notice that. Things make sense now."

Soda and Darry looked right horrified! "Echo," Soda cried, hurrying over to her and kneeling down to take a good look at her neck. "Jesus Christ, did they choke you?" She just shrugged.

Now it was Darry's turn to shine. "What the hell, Echo?! This is serious, you could have been killed. Are you okay? Were you strangled? Did those bastards try to strangle you?" After firing off question after question, a realization came to him and he turned on Pony. "Did you know about this? You did, didn't you? And you were gonna hide it from me?"

As Pony stammered out a protest, I felt a hand yank at the hem of my shirt and I glanced over to see Dally trying to get my attention. "What?"

"What'd the Socs look like?" Danger glinted steel in his eyes. He was prepared to hunt those sons of bitches down. "Krissy, did they attack you too?"

There he went with the "Krissy" again. Damn him. "First off, it ain't Krissy to you, and second, relax. I took care of it." He tilted his head to the side, skeptical.

Apparently that curly-haired kid (Samuel? Steve, was it? Oh, I really didn't care) had been listening in on our little side conversation, and had to open up his big, fat, useless mouth. "What do ya mean you took care of it? Did they attack you too?"

So, I had been planning to leave out the little tiny unimportant bit where I snapped the kid's wrist, but it was looking like that wasn't about to happen. To hell with it all.

Echo had clammed up so now Officer Darry stormed his way on over to me. "What do you know that you ain't telling us?"

This guy . . . I thought, He should go to Police Academy, become one of those nifty detectives that hate me so much. "Hey, man. don't target me. I saved your little sister from being murdered! Stop interrogating me when you should be thanking me."

While everyone was arguing, Soda's hand moved over to Echo and looked at her neck. I had to admit the bruises looked really bad. They were purplish-brown and they spread all the way down from her chin to the base where her neck met her chest.

My attention was snapped back to Darry when I found he still wasn't appeased. "How did you stop them from hurting her?"

This was getting real old, real fast. I decided to dish out the cold, hard truth and he could do whatever he wanted with it. "I snapped the bastard's wrist, okay? I broke his wrist and they let her go 'cause they knew I meant business."

Well, that put a damper on our lively argument. Everyone stared at me in a whole new light- except the ones who already knew, they had already started judging a little while back. I could see the gears shifting in Darry's head.

"So, this is your first real day in town, and yesterday you fight and get drunk at Buck's party, and today you snap someone's wrist? How old are you, twelve? Thirteen? I don't think Echo needs to be around like that. She's a good kid and it needs to stay that way."

I could have killed someone. I mean it, I COULD HAVE KILLED SOMEONE. He, with his jello, mushy-ass brain just couldn't comprehend that I saved his little sister's goddamn life! This was too far. It was written all over his face. He thought I was a bad influence on his perfect, baby sister who was alive because of ME.

"Darry, no, c'mon! It wasn't like that, she saved me-" Echo tried to defend, but Darry wasn't having any of that.

He turned around to point a rigid finger at her. "Echo, I just don't need you learnin' things like that from people like that."

People like that? So now I was just a type?! He was all buddy-buddy with Dally, wasn't he? What was so different about me, that I was a girl?

I was flower-stomping, puppy-kicking furious.

I spat out between clenched teeth like the words were venom swirling and foaming around in my mouth, "Oh, so now you're judging me? Huh? So what would you have preferred? That they'd squeezed the motherfuckin' life out of her? All right, good to know where your priorities are! Next time I'll just let them murder her, m'kay?" I looked around the now suffocatingly somber room and then focused back on Darry, who seemed about ready to slap the teeth out of my mouth. "Next time I'll just let them kill her, and bring you back the body with a fancy little bow and . . . and a card! And you know what that glittery-ass card will say? IT'S YOUR FAULT!"

Before he could get his hands around my throat to presumably strangle me (he didn't do that, but it was probably tempting), I turned swiftly on my heel and left the house, slamming the screen door behind me.

I was halfway around the block when I heard the screen door open and shut. Someone was following me. I assumed it would be Echo, because she was on my side, or maybe even Two-Bit. But . . . no.

It was Dally. His blond hair gleamed white in the harsh sunlight, his light blue eyes like hard, unbreakable ice. That was another way we differed. His eyes were cold and icy, mine were sharp and fiery, and mine were green and his were blue.

I quickened my pace but he had longer legs than me so he easily caught up. "What do you want, Dallas? Want to kick me while I'm down? If that's the case then you can just leave me the hell alone." As soon as I started up a brisk jog, Dally grabbed me by my shoulder and spun me roughly around.

"What's the matter with you, kid? Yellin' at Darry like that? Y'know, he has a shit ton on his plate, takin' care of his little siblings and all." Was he scolding me? Seriously, was he giving me a lecture? Oh, this was riiiiich. Getting a lecture on behavior from Dally fucking Winston?

"Darry's got his head so far up his ass he's using it as a damn sunhat," I grumbled and I noticed Dally bite back a smirk. The image was pretty amusing. "I saved her life, Dal, I did. I dunno why he's so pissed at me when he should be on his knees, throwin' roses and money and shit at me."

He laughed dryly, without humor. "If I ever saw Darry do that then I'd die of shock."

"Whatever, man." I kicked the ground angrily and watched with satisfaction as swirls of dust floated around us both, embracing us with the musty scent. "I was just real surprised, that's all. I mean, yeah, I broke the bastard's wrist but he was plannin' on hurting us and probably raping us, maybe killing us. What was I supposed to do, just let them do that?" I was yelling again.

He shook his head before I even finished my rant. "No, kid, you did good. You did real good. Those damn Socs were gonna hurt you and coulda killed Echo. You did what you shoulda done." That was . . . actually kind of nice of him to say. It was a strange conflict raging inside of me. Part of me just wanted to hate Dally and have that be it, but an arguably larger part wanted him to like me, to respect me, to be proud of me.

A smile threatened to pry up my lips. "I-I . . . did the right thing? You think I did the right thing?" It was strange how much I actually cared what he thought, how much value I placed on his opinion. I desperately wanted to shake myself of that mindset but now wasn't the time.

Dally shrugged like he didn't care all that much. He probably didn't. "You might've crossed a line or two, breaking his wrist and all, but you know how it is. You and I, we're from Brooklyn. It's kill or be killed, y'know? Sometimes you just gotta do what you haveta."

Finally, finally someone understood! It was kinda crappy that it was Dally all of all people, but it made sense. However much I didn't want to admit it, in a way, Dally and I were similar. Our childhoods were the same, hometowns, lifestyles . . . we just got each other. Or at least I thought we did, but then he left me.

The one thing I really didn't want to do was drop my guard around him, display any ounce of vulnerability. But like the little bitch I was, I did just that. "Dal, you get it, I get it, why don't they get it? It's Darry's sister I saved, I mean, I figured he'd have a little more sympathy. I don't know, man. I just don't know." I glared off in the distance and tried to suppress the urge to cry.

He looked at me real hard, like he was really seeing me for the first time in seven years. And for the first time since I reunited with him last night, I felt like I was seeing a glimpse of the real Dally, the Dally I knew. "Krissy, don't let 'em get to you. It don't matter what he thinks as long as you know that you did the right thing. You saved the kid's life and if they won't acknowledge that then that's their damn problem, not yours."

I just nodded in response, mulling over his words for a few moments. Maybe he was right, but it was still bothering me. "I didn't deserve that, Dally, I didn't. Nobody bothers to hear my side of the story, 'cause they just write me off as some no-good criminal and then that's just it." I cut myself off as my eyes burned with tears by biting my lip until I tasted blood.

Much to my sheer surprise, he thrust out an arm to snake around my shoulders, leading me into a slow walk. "That's just everyone, man. The world don't give a crap about people like us. But that's why the people like us got to band together, kid, 'cause we're all we got left in this shithole of a world." What a motivational speaker.

Before I could stop myself, I found myself leaning my head against his shoulder as we walked along the sidewalk. He was steering me to Buck's place. Bemused, I queried, "Why're we going back here?"

He replied gruffly, "When I left earlier during your little tour, which I guess was a shitty idea since those asshole Socs showed up and almost killed Little Curtis, I ran into Buck and he decided not to give you a room 'cause the first night you were there you already got caught up in a fight."

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Excuse me? In a sudden movement, I separated myself from him and allowed the briefly quelled ire to bubble up again. "That's utter bullshit! I was only helping Two-Bit out! Jesus Christ, why can't anyone see things for how they actually are?"

Dally wasn't arguing against me and that made it a lot harder to dump all my anger on him. "I know it's bullshit, Kris. But it's his place so I just moved your crap into my room for now. Just so he wouldn't chuck it."

Wow. He's actually being considerate. . . . "Gee, Dal, um . . . thanks. That was . . . nice of you. . . ." We were almost to Buck's place now.

He snorted and cuffed me on the shoulder, pretty hard, to be honest. Mild pain shot through my arm, but I didn't care. "Sound so surprised."

I grinned at him, actually smiled, probably for the first time since I reunited with him. "Just didn't think . . . I don't know, you're real different, Dally. I mean, I know the last time I saw you, you were eleven and I was six, and now we're both older so of course we're gonna be different, but . . ."

He didn't respond as we entered Buck's place. Ungentlemanly as always, he didn't open the door for me so it nearly slammed into my face. Now that was classic Dally, maybe he didn't change completely.

"Hope you didn't break any of my shit," I warned him and he scoffed as we trekked over to the stairs.

"You know, kid, you swear too much. It don't sound good through a girl's mouth, 'specially one as young as you."

Just then, some drunk loser who stayed overnight on the living room couch called over, "Ain't she a little young for you to fool around with, Dally?"

Dally stormed by me, knocking me into the nearest wall, to unload on him, "Hey, you sicko, that's my fucking sister!"

"Yeah, so go fuck yourself!" I added cheerfully and Dally gave me a half-hearted glare. Feigning innocence, I shrugged and sang, "I only learn from the best, Dal!"

Giggling, I hurried up the stairs before he could take a swing at me. I found what was presumably his room and shouted down the hall, "Big brother, your room's a dump!" I stepped in without invitation. "Seriously, you could hide a body in here and nobody would notice. I wouldn't put that past you. . . ."

"Kid sister, a lot of it's your shit that I had to move in," he grumbled back.

When an unamused Dally joined me in his room, I teased, "Do you screw your girlfriend in this mess?" That was a wild guess that he even had a girlfriend and I so did not want those awful, awful images burned into my head, but that was me, sacrificing my dignity just for the sake of a quip or joke.

This time he did find it in himself to slap me upside the head sharply. Ouch, dammit. "I don't need to hear that comin' outta your mouth." I rubbed the back of my head ruefully.

His earlier comment then registered to me and I realized how much he was overexaggerating. "Hey, man, all I have is my guitar and my duffel bag, the rest of this graveyard is yours."

He threw himself backwards on his unmade bed, adjusted himself to be comfortable, and eyed me intently. "You still got that thing?"

Sitting on the edge of his bed, I smiled a ghost of a smile. "You gave it to me. Shoulda known it was because you were leaving. What can I say? I was a stupid little kid."

He didn't reply because there wasn't much to say to that; I didn't leave much in the realm of appropriate responses. I pulled up the guitar case and undid the clasps, opening it up to reveal a shoddy, worn-out guitar . . . but it was a guitar full of memories. Dally taught me how to play.

"Can't believe you kept this piece of crap," he mused, reaching over to gingerly lift it out of its case. He strummed at it lightly and was a little surprised to hear it in such good pitch and tune. "Guess ya learned how to tune this thing. I always did it for ya."

"I had to learn how to do a lot of things on my own." That was my attempt to force some guilt into him for how he abandoned me- sure, we were at least on civil speaking terms now, but that didn't make me any less furious with him.

I stared him dead in the eye but he had this unfathomable look; it was nearly impossible to tell what he was thinking. The only other person I knew who could build up impenetrable walls around their feelings as well as I could was him.

"Kept your pick," I said conversationally, prying open a pocket of the case to reveal the red and blue object. It was the favorite of all my picks.

He picked it up and examined it closely, the corners of his mouth lifting up into a bitter smile. "The old man gave this to me. Same with the guitar. Hardly did any damn thing right but he sure could play this thing."

I was dumbfounded. All this time, the pick came from my father originally, not Dally? It had just never occurred to me where Dally got the pick and guitar from. Or if it did, I just didn't want to believe it, but it made total sense. My dad was a whole lot of things and most of 'em bad, but he was a damn good musician and nobody could deny that.

"We used to sing together, Dal." I brought that up tentatively, hoping dearly that he remembered that. Those were memories I always looked upon with great fondness when I wanted to remember my brother. "Think you can sing for me?"

Dally clammed up, far less open than he had been a mere minute ago (and that wasn't saying much). "Things change, Kris." Then he rolled over and abruptly broke off eye contact.

That hurt me a little bit but I tried my best to ignore it. There wasn't anyway in the damn universe I could break through to him in one afternoon. I was just glad to be talking to him again after those seven long years.

Just when I thought he was asleep, I carefully leaned back onto the other half of the bed and whispered, "I missed you, Dally."

My eyelids were like cement. It had been a long day and I felt my consciousness slipping away. The last thing I heard before I fell asleep was, "Missed you too, Krissy."

I couldn't tell if I had imagined it or not, but I hoped to all the deities, genies, and shooting stars in the universe that I didn't.