Echoes of Innocence
Full Summary: Dallas Winston was her better half. He was her hero, her best friend, the only person who knew her before she came to Tulsa and became some sort of Hood Nurse, patching up Greasers and gang members alike. When Dallas was shot dead by the fuzz, her life changed forever, in ways she never imagined possible.
3 years prior
The blood ran down her face as she carefully picked shards of glass from the split, broken skin. She tried not to grimace as yet another piece pulled loose from her flesh.
"Jesus, what on God green's earth happened to you?" Dallas all but shouted as he slammed the door to the small bedroom they often shared open with so much force it rattled the walls. "Buck said-," he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her face. The tough, cold expression he normally wore melted into one of genuine concern, mixed with disgust and confusion. "Who. Who did this to you, Jacklyn?"
Dallas Winston never called Jax by her birth name. She had left that name behind years ago in New York City and not a soul outside of kin knew it there in Tulsa. She would have turned to him had she not been too busy digging the last of the shatter glass bottle from her face.
"Who'd ya think, Dal?" she said coolly, her voice as steady as her hands. "Wasn't letting Matty take another bottle to the head," she continued as the last piece was freed from her face. She took the bottle of iodine from the small shelf in front of her. She poured some onto the cleaned cloth she had been able to find and made quick work of sanitizing the wounds. Most were shallow, much to her pleasure, while one, a larger, deeper wound on her left cheek would surely require a few stitches. She couldn't help but be grateful that she had managed to track her baby brother down before her step-father threw the bottle at him.
"Dick better count his days," Dally said with venom and hatred dripping in his tone. "I swear on all that is holy I'll kill that son'a'bitch."
"You'll do no such thing, Dallas Winston," Jax said in the low, motherly tone she reserved for those closest to her. "Besides, you're gonna have to give me a lift to the Curtis's," she added as her eyes locked on his through the mirror in front of her. "Martha is keepin' Matty safe with the boys."
"Was that before she saw your face?" Dally demanded. The Curtis residence was their rendezvous point whenever shit hit the fan, whether it was Richard O'Malley beating his son and step-daughter half to death or Dally trying to lay low after losing a bet to one of the hoods that hung around Buck's whore house. They knew they were safe there. Martha and Darrel Curtis made sure of it. They took in the riff-raff as if they were their own.
"Dropped Matty off with Ponyboy before any questions could be asked," Jax shrugged. It hadn't been the first time she unloaded her kid brother on someone else for a few hours to tend to wounds, whether her own or someone else's.
"Shoulda let Mrs. C patch that up," Dally stated, nodding at the deepest of the wounds on her face. "You're not gonna be able to do that yourself."
"Ah, Dally, how little faith you have," she said with a forced smile as her fingers reached for the suture kit she had lifted from the local hospital the last time she was there. She quickly threaded the needle and sucked in a deep breath before setting to work pulling the skin together, the thread keeping the wound from bleeding.
"I'll never wrap my head around how you can do somethin' like that on yourself," Dally said, his face turning ashen as he watched his best friend stitch her own face together.
"Can't afford this room let alone another hospital bill," she shrugged as she tied off the thread and inspected her handiwork. It would leave a scar, but she wasn't worried about it. After dabbing some more iodine onto the newly stitched wound, she applied a small bandage before turning around for the first time.
"Just gotta live to see 18," she said softly, fighting back the tears that she only ever let fall around the closest ally in her life. "Then me and Matty…shoot, you too if you want…then we can run away from this godforsaken place."
"Greasers don't run," Dally said with a smug expression. He pulled a weed from his pocket before tossing the pack to Jax, whose adrenaline had finally worn off, the slight tremble in her hands the only way for Dally to tell just how worked up Jax really was. Jax was good at keeping her head, but she had her limits. She was only sixteen, yet had seen more death and destruction than anyone should in a lifetime. "We're gonna get that brother of yours away from him, if it's the last thing we do, savvy?"
"Yeah, I dig," Jax nodded, lighting the cigarette with the black zippo lighter she never went anywhere without before tossing it to Dally. "Reckon it's like this all over?" she asked before she could stop herself.
"Hell, probably," Dally nodded. He was only 14 but you'd never know by looking at him. Or his record down at the station. He was no stranger to the struggle of growing up poor on the wrong side of town or growing up with fuck-ups as parents. That's why both of them often ended up at the Curtis's. Sometimes it was nice to have parent-like folks looking out for them.
"I hope you're wrong," Jax sighed as she looked at Dally, her icy eyes mirroring his. She couldn't help but hope there was something more out there for people like them.
November 1965
"Matty, you here?" Jax called as she pushed open the front door of Darry's house. It was early, just shy of 7 in the morning. She caught the door with her foot, keeping it from slamming behind her.
"He's takin' a shower, Jax," Sodapop, Darry's middle brother, called from the kitchen. Jax made her way into the kitchen and swiped a piece of bacon off Steve Randle's plate before moving to the cupboard to grab a mug for coffee.
"Sure, help yourself," Steve grunted. It was a Saturday, so Jax was slightly surprised to find the Curtis house awake and full of life already.
"He crash here last night?" Jax asked as she poured a cup of coffee before turning to the pair. She hadn't been around much that week, having had a few jobs down on the rougher side of town to take care of. It had been only a month since they all buried two of their own.
"Yeah, came runnin' in 'round midnight like the devil himself was after him," Steve said with a grim expression. From his disheveled hair, Jax could easily assume that he too had laid low at the house the night before. "Your ol' man still kickin' him around?"
Matty was nearly thirteen now, while Jax was closing in on hitting 20. She had fought like hell to get custody of her half-brother when she turned 18, but a criminal record that included drug dealin' didn't sit well with the judge and her petition had been denied every time she tried.
"Not my old man," Jax said, her tone bitter. "But Dick sure gets a kick outta kickin' around girls and little boys," she said, anger bubbling in her chest. She silently cursed Dally for the millionth time for leaving her right before they were supposed to hightail it out of Tulsa with her kid brother in tow.
"Maybe if you didn't deal you'd'a got him," Darry said grimly as he walked into the kitchen, pulling the cup of coffee from her hands.
"Darry!" Soda snapped, glaring at his older brother with a mix of frustration and confusion. Darry and Jax were friends. You could often find the two sitting on the porch talking late into the evening. Even Jax was stunned by his response, but before she could think, she hit a cord with her next statement.
"Maybe if you didn't lay a hand on Ponyboy, I wouldn't need to deal, because I wouldn't be a goddamn burden on you and your perfect little life, Darrel Curtis. Your actions got my best friend killed," she growled, her eyes glassing over despite the venom in her voice. She turned her back to him, her hands balled into fists.
"What did you-," Darry started, but Soda interrupted him, just as Steve came to stand by Jax, his hands hovering over her shoulders, ready to steer her outside if a fight was about to break out.
"Enough!" Soda shouted, his eyes welled with tears. "Stop fightin' like y'all hate each other!"
"We go above and beyond to keep her off the streets," Darry growled, his eyes locked on the back of Jax's head. "Maybe if she'd grow the fuck up and act like a damn lady, she wouldn't need to lay low every goddamn day."
Jax spun around, held back only by Steve's iron grip.
"That really how you feel, Darrel?" Jax growled, tears finally spilling over. "Your mother would be rolling in her grave hearing you talk to a woman like that," she added, her hands balled into fists. She forced a step forward, Steve never taking his hands off her shoulders, knowing full and well that Jax could not only hold her own, but would fight dirty if she had to. "Your mother knew why I did what I did. I didn't see you complainin' when I was able to get the medicine Ponyboy needed for free, for fucks sake. I didn't hear you callin' me a dealer when I was fixin' up your kid brother's face when he got jumped. You think that medical care woulda been free at Tulsa Gen? No! I do what I gotta to stay alive and keep my boys alive!" Her voice broke as she glared at Darry, her heart on her sleeve as she turned away, in time to meet her brother's eyes. Matty had heard most of the fight and the fear in his eyes spoke volumes.
"C'mon, Matty, we'll see if Tim's got room for you," she resolved, shaking herself free from Steve's grip.
"You don't gotta take care of me no more, Jax," Matty said softly, tears glistening in his eyes. "Not if it's gonna get you in trouble. I ain't know you was still dealin'. I thought after what happened with the River Kings you stopped…"
Jax flinched. She never talked about what happened the last time she got hauled in.
"Funerals ain't cheap, Matthew," Jax said, her tone soft. "Neither are medical bills or medicine or none of that." Darry knew he owed Jax for helping pay off Ponyboy's medical bills. She had turned up with the cash within a week, telling him she wouldn't let him struggle over something like that. She had paid out of her own pocket to bury Dally, with the help of Tim Shepard, who felt he owed his late friend at least that. But funerals weren't cheap.
"Jacklyn…I didn't…" Darry tried to take a step towards her, but she recoiled, her hands flying up to protect herself, though there was no threat. Just hearing Darry use her birth name made her tense.
"It's all good, Dar," she said, forcing a smile. "You made yourself good an' clear, you don't gotta worry 'bout us no more."
She reached for her brother's hand and pulled him with her as she looked at the pair of younger boys who were watching with mixed emotions. Soda had tears streaming down his face, while Steve looked ready to punch Darry himself. She nodded to both of them before grabbing her brother's bag off the living room floor, only sparing a single glance at the photo that still sat on the mantle. It was the only photo Martha Curtis had managed to get of all of them. Dally had one arm around Jax's shoulders, his other hand resting on Johnny's shoulder. Darry was standing by Soda and Ponyboy, with Steve on Soda's other side. Two-Bit had a shit eating grin on his face as he was ruffling Matty's hair. Front and center was the Curtis's old yellow cur dog, Lady, who all of those kids had loved during her short time on earth with them. She felt her heart break as she pulled her gaze away from the photograph.
When Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston died, they took a lot with them to the grave. Their innocence. Their will to reason and fight for a better life. Their happiness. Their sanity.
Two-Bit had said if Johnny died it would break Dally, and he hadn't been wrong. But what he didn't know was that if Dally died, it would break them all.
"Jax, we don't gotta-," Matty said softly, sensing his sister's despair.
"Yeah, we do."
Without another word, Jax pulled her brother towards the barely drivable van she practically lived out of and made a mental note to avoid Darry Curtis at all costs. The line in the sand was drawn. The echoes of their innocence buried six feet under with their fallen friends.
A/N: I'm not entirely sure where I'm taking this story just yet, but its definitely an AU, post novel story! As always, reviews are always encouraged as they keep me motivated to keep writing!