Blaze of Glory

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Outsiders or any of these characters. But if S.E. Hinton were to sell the rights to the Outsiders on e-bay, I would be the top bidder…did that make any sense at all?

Ponyboy's POV

"Stay gold Ponyboy, stay gold…" Johnny whispered, and then he died. He died and he was never coming back. I knew I should have been sad, but I wasn't, I just couldn't feel anything right then. Dally, who was sitting at the other side of the hospital bed started mumbling to himself. I'm not sure but I think I saw a tear roll down his hard face.

"It'll be ok Dal," I said, reaching across the bed, grabbing his shoulder. I let the leather on his jacket slide across my palm. Dally didn't even look at me, his gaze was locked on Johnny's body. Dally started to squirm in the wooden chair. "Ponyboy…" he muttered.

I couldn't really hear him. "What?" I could feel his body tense with my hand still on his shoulder. All his muscles went as stiff as a bored in a second.

"Ponyboy, you're coming with me!" He said louder. I didn't even have time to think. Dally just ran over and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. With the blink of an eye, we left Johnny's hospital room. We turned our backs on Johnny's body. Forever.

"Dally…what 'er you…doing?" I managed to fumble out. Dally was pulling on my collar so hard he was almost chocking me. "Dal…let go of…me," I chocked, prying his hands off my shirt collar.

"Just follow me kid, and nothing will happen," he muttered by my ear so no one else could hear. What is he doing, I thought to myself. I wasn't a favorite of Dally, but I couldn't for the life of me think of why he was hurrying me through the hospital towards the parking lot. "Listen to me kid," he said to me as he shoved me though the hospital door. The bitter wind that night shocked me like a slap in the face.

"Glory Dal, would ya just tell me what's going on!" I said as I forced myself to look him in the eye. Immediately I saw a flame flicker to life in his dark eyes. That couldn't be good. "Dally," I calmed down as he slowed down his walking pace. "What are you doing?"

He looked around, his eyes darting around the hospital parking lot, peering into every shadowed corner. "Get in the car and I'll tell you." I did like he told me. I slid into the car he'd stolen from Buck Merril. The car was a black mustang. It smelled like smoke from all the greasers who had used that car, with or without Buck's permission.

"Alright Pony, I don't wanna hurt you," he said, swallowing back tears. I still couldn't feel anything. I should have been frightened. He didn't want to hurt me? I should have been sad. Johnny was dead. I couldn't feel anything, nothing.

"You don't wanna…hurt me?" I asked, my voice flat.

"Yeah, yeah. Just…just. Pony, if I asked you for a favor, would you do it?" He asked with his New York accent.

"Sure Dal," I answered, not thinking about my answer. If a greaser needs another greasers help, you'd do anything for him.

"Good," he said. Then he brought the car to life by jamming the key into the ignition. His foot forced the gas pedal to the floor of the car. "Let's blow this joint," he said to no one in particular. He backed the car up without looking behind him. A Buick that was parked behind Buck's mustang got a good dent to the front fender thanks to Dally's carelessness. The tires on the mustang screeched as he turned the corner out of the hospitals parking lot.

Dally's eyes darted back and forth, eyeing the road. Probably looking for the fuzz. I remember, when my mom and dad were still alive, me, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Soda would sneak out of the house. Two-Bit told us all to keep an eye out for cars with bubbles on the top. He called the sirens on the police cars bubbles because that's all they looked like in the dark. That's my earliest memories of looking out for the fuzz.

I was brought back to reality by Dally slamming his fist on the radio dial. A guitar started wailing over the car speakers, drums pounding right along with it. That's when I felt something. "Dally, would you turn that down, it's giving me a head ache." Dally took his eyes off the road. He looked at me, the flame in his eyes growing into a wild fire.

"Ha-ha, yeah right. I love this song," he laughed. He started banging his hands onto the steering wheel in time with the music. I'd never heard the song before. Dally obviously loved it though. Every once in a while he would sing along with the lead singer. Just like the drums in the song, my head ache pounded out the beat.

"So, where we going Dally?" I started to relax a little.

"We're going to the gas station. Is that alright with you?" he joked. It was fine with me. I was just wondering why he had been so tough with me at first. We were just going to the gas station; get a pack of cigarettes, a couple candy bars or something.

The song finally ended and we rounded the corner into the DX Soda worked at. He didn't work the night shift though, and I was guessing it was around 9:30 at night or so. "Come on kid, follow me," Dally said as he motioned for me to follow him. I did.

As we walked through the door to the DX, I saw Soda standing at the magazine wrack. "Soda? Whater you doing here?" I asked. He looked up from a magazine and smiled.

"Ponyboy, hey. I'm just looking for something to read. I've gone through all Darry's old magazines. I need something new." Darry was always getting magazines from people at his roofing job. Soda's attention span was too short to read a book, so he stuck to magazines. "Hey….uh…how's Johnny?" Johnny, I couldn't tell Soda about Johnny. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. So, I lied.

"I don't know, me and Dally have just been driving around, cooling off after the rumble," I said to him. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get it out, I heard Dally yelling something to the clerk. Soda and I both ran towards the desk, trying to keep Dally's temper under control.

"Just give me the money! Give me the money!" He kept yelling at the man behind the cash register. Soda grabbed Dally's arms and tried to keep them at his sides. But Dally quickly broke free of Soda's grasp, thrashing like a wild caged animal.

"Dal, just calm down. Let's go back to my house, and talk this out," Soda said to Dally, even thought Dally probably couldn't hear him. "I'm so sorry about this sir," Soda said to the cashier. The cashier nodded and turned his back to us and messed with something on the counter behind him.

"He's dead! Just give me the money! You killed him, you killed him!" Dally kept screaming.

"What?" Soda had no idea what was going on.

"No he didn't Dallas!" I screamed. Then, I saw Dally reach into his pocket and pull out a heater. He was the only person in the gang who ever carried a heater. He raised the gun so it was pointing right at the cashier. Once Soda saw the gun, he slowly backed away. I stayed behind Dally.

"Come on now Dal just put the heater down," Soda begged him.

"Dally…put it down," I whispered. "Put it down." His hand started to shake. He glanced behind his shoulder, looked at me and then at the door. It looked like the fire in his eyes would spill out any second. He locked his eyes back on the cashier. Without a moment's hesitation, Dally squeezed his finger and the gun fired a single shot. That one single shot spun towards the cashier and hit him square in the back.

Immediately the man fell to the ground. I looked over at Soda; the look on his face was so dumb struck. I'm sure I looked the same way. Some guy who was standing back by the beer in the DX came running as soon as he heard the gun blast echo through the gas station. Dally shoved the heater into his jacket pocket. He pushed Soda away from him, and Dally spun around and grabbed me by the collar again. I hated that. I didn't fight him this time. I just let him drag me like a rag doll.

We were barley in Buck's car when Dally started to zoom out of the parking lot. I was getting really tired of the sound of screeching tires. "Dally, w-w-what are you doing?" I quietly stuttered. I know Dally was tough, but I never thought ol' Dally would have the nerve to kill a guy. Dally's eyes were fixed on the road; his eyes were kind of glassy too.

"You listen to me. You didn't see a thing. Ok? Nothing. Nothing at all." He slammed his fist on the steering wheel. I jumped, if it weren't for my seatbelt, I probably would have hit the ceiling of the car. Dally slammed his fist on the steering wheel, this time he through his whole body into it.

"Dally, pull over. I'm walking from here," I said, keeping my eyes on the road speeding beneath us. Surprisingly, he did pull over. Then he pulled the keys out of the ignition. What was he doing now? I didn't care; I was getting out of that car and walking, no running, all the way back to my house. I would flop down on the couch and have a smoke with Steve and Johnny….No, I couldn't do that. Johnny was dead, and he was gone. Just like that book. He was "gone with the wind." He never got to finish that book.

I was about to open the car door when Dally almost ripped the door off the car. Well, looked like I wasn't going to open that door. If Dally wanted you to do something, you'd do it. "Get out kid," he mumbled. So I did. Instead off grabbing me shirt collar, he clutched my sleeve.

Before I knew it, Dally had dragged me into some kind if abandoned old train station or something. It was dark. The only light was the moon drifting into the gloomy atmosphere of our hide out. It smelled in there too. I can't really put my finger on what the smell was, but I figured if I smoked a couple cigarettes, I could ignore the smell. So, I pulled out a cigarette and lit up.

Dally let go of my sleeve once we were safely inside the abandoned building. He spun around to face me. The moon light caught his face and light up his eyes. This time, instead of seeing a raging fire, I saw a cold mountain. Dally said, the moonlight still illuminating his face, "Ponyboy, we have to do this. I just killed a guy back there. You saw me do it. We've gotta let the heat die down a little before we can go back."

"But Soda saw you too, why didn't you grab him," I told him.

"Soda….Soda just doesn't get me." His voice sounded really loud and angry. Then his voice broke. "He doesn't…he doesn't get Johnny."

"Dally…I don't get you. I don't think anybody could get you," my voice got quiet. "I understood Johnny though." We were both close to tears. I tried to change the subject. "Well, why'd you bring me here, to this building? It's not like it's far away from the DX. We shoulda just gone back to Windrixville."

"I…I….I dunno. I guess..." his voice was shaking. "I want then to find me. I'm sick of getting in trouble and always being on the run from the fuzz. I just want it all to end."

"Are you…" my voice was barley a whisper. I knew what was coming. "Are you talking about killing yourself?"

"I dunno. I just, dunno," he said, holding his head in his hands. An eerie silence fell over the building. Neither of us said a word. The silence was soon broken by police sirens. They're after us, I thought. Darry's gonna kill me. If Dally didn't kill me first. "Dally, it's the fuzz. I bet they're coming here," I was whispering, but it sounded so loud.

"I know, there's nothing we can do about it now. I bet that guy from the DX called the fuzz." He cursed under his breath. It wasn't long before the sirens stopped, and we could hear police slamming the doors to their patrol cars. Dally was right, there was nothing we could do about it now.

For the first time since Johnny's death, I felt something. I was scared. I wanted to burst outta that train station and run back to Darry and Soda, and…and…mom and dad. I wanted my family back, I wanted Johnny back. But here I was in an abandoned train station with seventeen year old, hard as rock, Dallas Winston. And we were surrounded by police cars; I bet they were ready to shoot at whoever came out of the building.

I wanted out. But first I had to get to the bottom of what will up with Dally. "Dally, why…why are you doing this? Why did you shoot that guy at the DX? Why did you storm out of the hospital? Why are we here right now?" He looked at me, a tear glistening in his eye.

"Kid, you really wanna know why I brought you here? You really wanna know?" I nodded. He clamed down a little. "We're on the run from the fuzz. I think you figured that out already. And, they're obviously after me, so I guess you're my, well, hostage. Ya dig?" I was his hostage. I guess I was the middle man. I wanted out, now.

"Kid, if I go out there, the cops'll shoot me. You and me both know it. I'm going out there. I'm gonna bit the bullet," he said. Towards the end of his sentence, his voice started to quiver. He threw his head into his hands and began to sob. I couldn't believe it. Dallas Winston was crying?

I suddenly felt sorry for him. I never really liked him and he never really liked me, but right then I wanted to make him stop crying. "Dally," I said quietly, "why do you wanna kill yourself? Why do you want the fuzz to do it for you?"

"Well hell," he was still sobbing. "I might as well go down in a blaze of glory then…then…" he trailed off.

"Then what Dallas?" I'd never called him Dallas to his face before.

"Then live with out Johnny," he finished. I almost agreed with him. Before I could tell him that, he muttered, "To hell with it," and he jumped up and ran towards the door.

"Dally wait!" I managed to spill out. He didn't even look back. Then, he flung open the door to the train station. The bright lights of the police cars blinded me. I couldn't see a thing.

A/N-Whataya think?