Author's Note: Sorry this one's short, but I wrote it out last night after mom and I got back from a basketball game. It was my birthday too! So, I just jotted this down and now I'm posting it. I couldn't get it to save my disclaimer so I couldn't post it last night.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders. Make a great birthday present if Susie Hinton gave it to me, but alas...IT'S STILL NOT MINE!

Chapter Nine

His Advice

Dally knocked on Buck's door and Buck answered it, "Hey, Dally," he greeted. He smiled, "Ya bring Sylvia?"

"No," Dally told him shortly, "can I have a place to sleep?"

"Sure…" Buck drawled. Dally could tell that Buck was drunk. "Ya wanna girl from here?"

"No," Dally said shortly, "just a place to sleep."

Buck led him to a room and Dally closed the door. He pulled off his shirt and inspected his ribs. They would be bruised a bit, but nothing too bad he decided. He lay down on the bed and attempted to fall asleep.

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"Dallas," Buck shook his. Dally lifted his head from the pillow and asked, "What!"

"A Ponyboy and Johnny are here to see you." He said and shrugged, taking a drink of his beer.

"Did you bring them inside?" Dally stood up and began the walk to the door.

"No," Buck said. That was a good thing; Dally thought and opened the door.

"What do you guys want?"

"Johnny killed a soc," Ponyboy stammered through chattering teeth. Dally smiled.

"Good for you, kid," he laughed.

"I'm sorry I got you away from this party and all, but I-I just don't know what to do," Johnny looked scared.

"Oh, shoot, kid…I was in the bedroom." He stopped and looked at Ponyboy. His ears were turning red, "My but your ears can turn red, Ponyboy." Then he remembered what he normally did in the bedroom at Buck's parties. Well…he wasn't Mother Theresa and he was entitled to a little fun now and then. "Shoot kid, it wasn't anything like that. I was asleep or trying to be. What with Hank Williams and all," he stopped and cursed. "I got into a fight with Shepherd tonight. Let me see what I can do, get in," he pulled on Johnny's jeans jacket and Ponyboy's arm. It was wet.

"Ponyboy, you wet?"

"I'm ok…" he stammered and Dally shoved both of them to the room.

"Stupid, take the sweatshirt off," he pulled open the drawer and fished around for his gun. He pulled it out and checked to see if he had placed bullets into it. He slammed it closed and passed it to Johnny, "Don't point that thing at me, Johnny, it's loaded!" He counted out some bills and gave them to Johnny and. "I ain't itching to be the one to tell your big brother about this and get my head kicked in," Dally snapped at Ponyboy. He could just imagine Darry throwing him around the house and busting his head open. He threw him a shirt, "Here it's Buck's, you and him aren't the same size but it is dry." Ponyboy slid it on and Dally leaned forward to tell Johnny the plan.

"Hop the three fifteen train to Windrixville, it's a freight," he began and then set them on their way. He watched Johnny and Pony climb into the freight and went back to his room. He tried to sleep but kept having nightmares about Johnny and Pony being found. He awoke to the sound of police sirens. "Shit," he cursed some more and threw on his shirt. He was tempted to climb out the window, but decided to pretend he was sleeping. The door flew open and Dally didn't open and eye.

"Wake up, punk," the cop snapped, shaking Dally. Dally opened one eye slowly and asked, "What's up?"

"Come with us, Dallas," the cop escorted him to the car and Dally wondered why the cop hadn't slammed cuffs onto his wrists.

He sat down in the car and waited until he figured they would think that they'd persuaded him to talk.

"They said…they were headed for…Texas…yeah, Texas is where."

They all grinned triumphantly and they left.

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Dally wandered the streets, hands in his pockets. Finally he sat down on the bench by a store.

They say I lie. Then why do they believe me? I never know why…

They say that I'm a liar, but I tell more truth than they think. Man, I don't get people. They make no sense. I'll never figure out what the fuck goes through their so called 'brains.'