Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders, and "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" belongs to Pat Benatar.

A/N: It should be known that this is one of our absolute favorite chapters that we have written so far. We wrote it a little over three years ago (with several edits to fit with the various twists and turns our stories have taken), and we are so excited to finally be posting. We hope you enjoy! :)

You come on with a come on,
You don't fight fair.

Thursday, November 17, 1966

Ellie sat back in the chair behind the register next to Soda's.

"Want a Pepsi or anything?" he asked.

She shook her head, and he sat down beside her. There was a stereo out in the garage that was turned up loud enough for them to hear inside, playing one of the local stations. An Elvis song was playing.

"I can't believe about Dally. Four years is a long time to be away," he said.

There wasn't much she could say to that without losing her mind and her composure. She really didn't want to get into it, the cold look in Dally's eyes still a fresh memory. Four years was a span of time she wasn't able to quite make sense of. She still felt like he was going to be back in a couple of months and she would follow him around again, and he would try not to pretend that he was happy about it. She couldn't wrap her mind around four whole years.

Thinking about him was making her go crazy on the inside, so she changed the subject without giving much thought into what she was changing it to.

"Is it usually this slow during the school day?" she asked.

"Sometimes. It picks up right after school and again after five or so. I'm usually bored during the day."

Ellie tipped the chair back on two legs and scanned the little store, wondering what Soda did to occupy himself.

"Ralph's gone for a bit. Had to run to the bank and do other errands," Soda said. Ellie could sense that he was digging for something to talk about, and she wasn't much help with that. She didn't feel like talking about anything anymore than he did. They were both moping and heartbroken.

"How come you're not in school today?" he asked.

It was Ellie's turn to shrug. "Just don't feel like it," she said.

"Yeah. I get that," he said. "We should hang out some time. No one else really gets it."

He was talking about the heartbreak. "Sounds like a good idea. Where to?"

"Hell, we can always find some kind of house party over in the Brumly neighborhood. That's about the only fun thing to do around here anymore. Buck's wussed out about letting under-aged kids into his place."

She nodded. A party might be the thing she needed to get her distracted from everything happening around her. Maybe it would get Dally off of her mind.

"How's it going with the baby?"

"He's pretty cute, but he cries like a banshee all the time." The night before, Danny cried for a solid hour before Jimmy started screaming at Abigail to get out of bed and take care of him. "I think something's wrong with my mom, though."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"I don't really know. It's just that she was so excited and now she's just going through the motions," she said.

"That why you ain't in school much? You're taking care of him?"

"I guess. Jimmy ain't much help. He says Danny don't want him when he cries, and Mom or I oughta tend to him. I try to help her every now and then, but I just couldn't today. Sometimes it's just …"

"Too much?"

She nodded and said, "He's just so little. I can't believe he's so much work all the time."

"Fair enough. You ain't responsible for him, kiddo. You gotta stop feeling like you are."

Ellie smiled. Hanging out with him was sounding better and better every minute. Pony had told her a long time ago that he was a good listener, and she believed it, too.

He was about to say something when a little bell sounded in the store. A car pulled up at one of the pumps, and Soda was to his feet, heading outside.

"Be right back," he said, but she hardly heard him. The car that had pulled up was a shiny black Charger and Tim Shepard was out and standing up beside it before Soda made it out to him. They talked for a minute, and then Soda was under the hood, checking something out. A few seconds later, he dashed into the garage. Ellie stood up and used the store entrance to the garage, finding Soda messing with a car already up on jacks.

"What's going on?" Ellie said, trying to keep her voice normal despite her blood pumping furiously through her veins. She hadn't seen Tim since she found out Dally turned himself in. She had plenty of reason to be angry with Tim before she found out about the gun. Everything was his fault.

"Tim's car needs checked out. Oil change and a couple other things," he said. "I gotta get this car outta here and his in."

Soda busied himself with the car, and Ellie looked through the open garage door. Tim was across the street using a payphone. She looked at his shiny new car and looked back in the garage. A crowbar was leaning against the wall near her legs. She reached down and picked it up, her fingers curling over the cold iron and thinking of the only way she could let Tim know that what he did was wrong. Soda had the car off the jacks and was inside, getting ready to back it out of the garage. She turned up the radio as loud as it would go, knowing Soda wouldn't notice the difference.

XXX

Tim leaned on the phone booth, head bowed and listening to Todd on the other end telling him which way was up. He pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing like hell he had Monty back. Todd tried, but he just didn't have the leadership.

"Todd, shut up a minute," he said. "Just cool it for awhile. I gotta get my car fixed up and I'll be over to handle it."

Todd finally stopped jabbering about the Tigers and asked what had to be done.

"Nothing major, just a -" He stopped mid-sentence when he heard glass shatter. Looking around he found the source and he felt every nerve in his body light on fire. There was Ellie, as small as she was, beating the ever-loving shit out of his car.

"Holy fuck," Tim muttered, dropping the phone and running across the street. He skidded to a stop on the driver's side as she stood on the passenger side, unable to believe his eyes. The mirror on the driver's side door was hanging on by a thread. One headlight lay in shards on the ground. She held the bar in the air, daring him to make a move.

"Put it down," he said slowly, hoping she'd listen to reason even though he wanted to kill her right then and there. "Nice and easy, kid."

"No," she said simply, as if what he told her had been a suggestion instead of an order.

"Put it down or you're gonna be awful sorry you didn't," he promised.

Her brow furrowed. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," he said. His heart was beating double-time as he tried to decide his next move. He didn't want to hurt her, but doing damage to a man's car was below the belt.

"What else could you possibly do?" she hissed. "You've already done enough." She swung the bar as hard as she could, which was decent for a girl, and the bar smashed into the hood. He tried not to flinch when it bounced off with a metallic clang. The sound was worse than the damage, although it still left a dent.

"I can get that tapped out," he said, trying to remain calm. He was hoping he could get her to cut it out if she knew she couldn't do enough to get a rise out of him. "You ain't strong enough to damage the body."

"I know," she replied. She was out of breath, but he should have known she wouldn't back down so easily. She raised the crowbar again and brought it down hard against the windshield. It left a spider web of cracks radiating from the center.

His patience boiled over and he raced around the front of the car. By the time he made it to her side, she was dragging the forked end of the bar along the black paint.

"You crazy bitch," he yelled, making a dash for her. She ran back to the other side away from him, doing damage as she went.

She paused long enough to swing the bar into the window of the driver's door, sending shards of glass all over the goddamn place. He caught her around the middle as she was pulling the bar back, and it was a wonder she didn't crack him in the head with it. He figured it was more luck than anything; if she had the opportunity to use it against him, she would take it.

"Curtis!" He didn't know how Sodapop didn't hear them, even over that blasted radio, but the only way he was letting go of Ellie unharmed was if he helped him out. He wouldn't have minded teaching her a thing or two, but there was that nagging, gnawing memory in the back of his head that said he deserved everything she was doing.

Tim forced her into the side of the car, but she wasn't giving up. She cocked her arms back to swing the crowbar again, and he tried to yank it from her with one hand. She had a good grip on it and managed to twist away from him. He reached for her again, and she swung the metal in his direction. She wielded the crowbar as easily as though it were a bat and he was the baseball, and he didn't know if he'd ever seen that much hate in anybody's eyes.

"Curtis!" he yelled again. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and heard the radio turn off. "If you don't get that out of her hands, she's gonna be real sorry."

He didn't have time to look at Soda to see if he was going to help him or let her have at it. He was too busy studying Ellie and waiting for her next move. Her shoulders were still heaving as she tried to take deep breaths, and she looked like she was about to cry.

She lunged at him, the crowbar high over her head and she swung hard at him. He caught her by the arms and held on tight, ready to twist her arm clean off if he had to. He didn't aim to have the sense knocked out of him by some crazy chick with an anger problem.

"Let go," he said forcefully.

She seemed to tighten her grasp on the crowbar so he tightened his grip on her arms.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he yelled at her.

Her cheeks were flaming red, tears running down her face, and she started shrieking at him.

"It's all your fault!"

"You're crazy. All 'cause of fucking Dally and that gun?"

"I hate you!"

She started writhing, fighting to free herself. Tim twisted her wrist until she cried out and the crowbar clattered to the ground. He could have broken her arm for what she did, but Soda finally came over to break up the fight.

"Let go of her," he ordered.

Tim took his eyes off of her for a second. "You're crazy, too, if you think I'm gonna do that right now."

He knew he should have known it was coming, but it still surprised him when she kneed him in the groin. Tim let her go, shoving her out of his way as he grabbed the crowbar this time. Soda grabbed her and pushed her around him until she was on the other side of the car.

"What the fuck is your problem, man?" Soda asked.

Tim looked at him incredulously and then motioned at his car with the crowbar.

"What is wrong with me? Christ, look what she did!" he said. "Fuck!"

He held up the bar and pointed it at Ellie, even though she had her back turned to him, wiping at her face.

"You're lucky I don't have it in me to use this fucking thing on you," he threatened.

"Back off, Shepard," Soda warned, and Tim tossed it at his head. He caught it clumsily but held on to it like he was ready to use it. "What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't fucking do shit," Tim said. "I was on the damn phone across the fucking street when she went ape shit over here."

"Just get outta here, man," Soda said.

Tim started to say something, but in his fury he was left speechless. He looked at the damaged car that used to be his pride and glory.

"I can't fucking drive this anywhere!"

"Listen, I'll tow it somewhere for you, but you gotta get out of here."

"Fuck you," he replied.

He opened the door and kicked as much glass to the floor as he could. He glared at Soda as he took off his leather jacket and tossed it on top of the glass on the seat. He looked through the cracks of the windshield and saw Soda take Ellie back inside.

Tim slammed the door shut and shouted a string of curses to the high heavens as he drove off. He was more than ready to give her name to any cop that bothered to pull him over for the busted windshield.

XXX

Soda finished sweeping up the glass while Ellie was in the restroom. She seemed calm when he told her to wash up, and that worried him. He tossed the broken glass in the bin in the garage just as it began to rain a little. It was a steady drizzle as he walked inside and up to the register. Ellie was sitting behind the desk, shuffling cards like nothing had happened.

He sat down slowly next to her, but she didn't say anything. She started laying out cards to play Solitaire.

He cleared his throat. "You okay, Ellie?"

"I'm fine," she said.

"That was …" He couldn't seem to find the right words for what just happened. "… something else, huh?"

She shrugged and kept her eyes on the cards. "He deserved it."

He studied her as she moved the nine of Hearts onto the ten of Clubs. Her hands were steady. Her voice was even. Hair clung to the back of her neck from the sweat she worked up outside, her face was splotched and tear stained and her arms were red and bruising, but other than that, there was hardly any sign that anything had just happened.

"So Tim gave Dally that gun?"

She nodded. "He thinks he's a saint for not giving him the bullets, too."

Soda sat uneasily beside her as she continued her game. He flinched when she finally said his name.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"I think I'll take that Pepsi now."

"Sure," he said softly, starting to think she had done lost her mind.

That's okay, let's see how you do it,
Put up your dukes, let's get down to it.