Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders, Tex, Hoobastank, or the song "Out of Control". Yeah . . .

Rating: PG-13

Author Notes: Thanks to you people who've been reviewing, I've kind of finally gotten my inspiration back, though I'm still trying to fight against a disease we call "Writer's Block". Yup. So keep them reviews comin'!

Heh. I think that Tex learned most of the bad words he knows from Dally. XD Anyway, here's the story!

Out of Control

How long's it been since I've been in the city? But at least I can actually breathe without it hurting. And, I can sit up. But who cares? My car's gone, and I have no clue where the hell I am. I just know I'm in the fucking country.

And Tex. He's so fucking annoying, asking me all these stupid questions. Man, I don't wanna be here. I just wanna get out!

Shit. But what'm I gonna do when I get home? Oh, yeah. I'm not gonna have a home. The car's gone, and if I even knew where it was, I'd never get the money to repair it. Shit. It makes no difference which way I'm going . . .

Anyway, one time, I managed to finally get out of that stupid bed and look around. Yeah, we were in the country all right. And Tex and Mason were watching TV, er, the news. Whatever.

"Today's top story—a young boy around the age of 16 . . ."

Shit. 'Young boy'? What the fuck? I hoped that they weren't talking about me.

". . . has been participating in gang fights, selling drugs, and crashing into cars."

There was the guy I ran into on TV. He was talking all this crap about me meaning to crash into him, just for the fun of it. They also said that they found drugs in my car. That wasn't exactly the truth, 'cause all of the beer bottles and Kool boxes were empty. I scratched the back of my head. Shit. There was more.

"The car he used claims to be stolen from his own father."

What! Okay, maybe that was true, but he started it!

There was my old man on TV, saying what a bad kid I was, and how I was involved in gang fights and selling drugs. Fuck him. I never sold drugs in my life, and that night at The Dingo was only a skin fight. There was really no damage done.

"His father claims that he threatened to kill him, jumped in the car, and drove off, resulting in everything that had happened that night. He was said to be heading towards Garyville, and people should keep watch. If there is any sighting of this man, please call the police. Now, on to our next incident at . . ."

The rest of it just drowned in the loud buzzing in my ears. Man, I didn't really mean to do that! It wasn't my fault! They were just exaggerating! I mean, come on! For Pete's sake, it was my old man who did everything! He was the one to blame! That fucking liar!

Why the fuck did he have to betray me? I didn't do anything to him! Shit. I didn't know what to do. I was in deeper shit here than in New York. But this time, I didn't even do anything! It was all a fucking lie! 'Why?' I thought. 'Why are you doing this to me?'

I stared intently at the guy on the TV, watching him. He had no fucking clue that everything he just said was a lie—or, an over exaggerated truth. Whatever. Anyway, what I did what greasers usually do. If that's a crime, then we should all be in the fucking slammer. But hell, I didn't want to go there.

When I was ten, I got in. My parents didn't care. But them not caring was better than them hating me. 'Why does he hate me?' I thought, and I didn't notice that I was so mad I was shaking. Glory, why me? Why couldn't he have just shut up? Why did he have to make such a big deal about everything? Why did he have do this? Just to torture me?

I couldn't take any more of it. That room that I was dying to get out of was now the only place I wanted to be. I stormed in and then slammed the door with all my might, making a pretty big crack in it.

"Whoa!" I heard Tex yell, but I didn't do anything.

I just sat down on the bed and put my elbows on my knees, with my head in my hands. I thought about all of what just happened. How could they do this to me in about 5 minutes? Glory, that had to break some kind of worldly record or something. Shit. If I'm gonna go to the slammer, it should be something I've done, not some fucking lie.

"It's all a fucking lie," I muttered to myself.

"What?"

I looked up. Standing in the doorway was Tex, annoying as ever. I rolled my eyes at him. "Leave me alone," I growled at him, but he still just stood there. "What're you doin'? Just get out already!"

The news said that there was some kind of city guy criminal heading here! I wondered if we'd seen him, having no clue that the guy was in our own house. Mason was glued to the TV, watching intently. "Hey, Mace, d'you think we've seen the guy?"

Mason didn't reply. He was watching the guy's dad telling everything that his son did. Weird. I don't think any dad I knew would do something like that. It just seemed pretty stupid to me. Why wouldn't you keep the back of your kid? "Did you notice something about that guy?" he asked out of the blue.

"Um . . . he looked kind of drunk," I replied.

"No, Tex, anything else?"

"Um . . ." I thought about it for a while. "No . . ." my gaze was focused on Mason, and Mason alone. "What is it?"

"Doesn't he look kind of like . . . Dallas?"

Well, he did . . . kind of. But I didn't think that meant anything. "So?"

"So, Tex? Don't you get it?"

I had to tell him the truth. "No."

"You're clueless." He sunk into the couch, running a hand through his hair. I shrugged and then headed towards Dallas' room while he slammed the door, making a pretty big crack in it.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, because I almost got hit by a piece of wood that went flying. Dang, this guy gets more confusing by the minute. What was wrong with him? It's not like it was his dad on the TV. I wondered if, since he was from the city, he knew whoever the guy was who did all that stuff.

I pushed the broken door open a little, looking into the room. Dally was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. He was really stressed about something, obviously. I heard him mutter something to himself, but I didn't really know what it was. "What?" I asked, and he just yelled at me. I don't remember exactly what he said, but he was really mad, and wanted me to leave. But still, I wanted to ask him something.

"You know that criminal from the city?" for some reason, he winced, "D'you know him by any chance?"

He looked at me like I was stupidest thing on earth. And at the time, I think that I was. "Yeah . . . I do." He replied flatly, looking back down at the ground.

"Is that why you're here?"

He hesitated, like he was thinking, and then said, "Yeah." He looked up at me, a sudden grin streaking across his face. "You're a pretty smart kid, you know that?" I couldn't help but grin back. "Figuring it all out by yourself . . ."

"If you need any help with him or something . . . Mace and I'll be here."

"Thanks, kid," Dallas replied. "I need some time alone, I need to think this out, y'know?"

I nodded. "Sure. Seeya!"

I didn't know that Dallas tricked me like the idiot I was.

""

Author Notes: Well, it's not the best chapter, but kind of sets the story in motion. Xx; Please don't flame me! And poor Tex. He's so clueless. XD

Anyway, keep them reviews coming!