Author's Notes: I'm sorry if it's choppy or details are missing, I'll do my best to fill in the gaps I see. If I miss something, bare with me, I have a thousand ideas in my head right now and I don't know how to organize them. Anyway, the new character's bio is at the bottom of the chapter where the other ones were for the first chapter. And his name is…Perry Allison.

P.S. I've changed the rating since my language is getting out of hand… again. Therefore, this is now mostly rated on: Strong and suggestive language, Sexual actions/implements, Gory War flashback/dream thingy, and perhaps some other things that may be mentioned later. Maybe.

Chapter 4: Perry Ain't Nothin' but Trouble

Sweetheart's POV:

I turned off the television after the newsman was done. I was worried, almost afraid. I know I shouldn't be, but Perry…He was much worse than Dally could ever be. Perhaps that's why he decided to join the war, so he could kill people and get away with it. The only thing was that no one knew how much of a monster he was before the war. But Perry Allison wasn't a horrible person at all, he was a good war buddy of Rocco's, and I guess you could say they were real sweethearts. Rocco always wrote me about their romance and the love that they shared while he was away at war. I always wondered how they found time for those things. But before, when Rocco lived at home with Wolfy and myself, he would usually have Perry up in his room, but at that time they were just good friends. I suppose war causes emotions to mix and hidden secrets to appear, to be confronted before a tragic, pointless death. Rocco walked from the living room to the kitchen numerous times, I thought he was going to ruin the carpet because of it. It's not that Rocco did still have feelings for Perry, but the things that Perry did make him worry. Perry had committed manslaughter on his father, and a gang of Socs. He was an angry man, he had always been, and I supposed he had just snapped one day. But of all people to be there, it was I; I was there when he had killed them all. Rocco was only there to see the Socs die in a bloody mess before him. The switchblade covered with blood, Perry's shirt drenched in that crimson liquid that so heavily runs threw our veins. We stood there in shock, Perry had always been so kind to us, had always treated Wolfy and I as though we where his own brother and sister. He cared for my older brother as though he was the last being on Earth. But that day, that released fury had made his world fall to pieces. Those memories scared me, made me fear the loving man I knew he could be, and it scared Rocco too. Never had he thought that Perry could do it, but at the same time, he knew he could. Rocco knew he could pull a trigger, or kill a man with his bare hands, but this…He had literally cut them to ribbons. Only because of a rude comment, and because he caught his father hit his mother. "Is he…?" I was hesitant, but Rocco knew what I meant even though I didn't finish.

"I don't know," Rocco replied, I could tell he was stressing, and who wasn't at such news? If I told Wolfy, he would leap with joy, because he hadn't a clue of those events, of those murders. We simply told him that Perry had been arrested for being drunk in public when he returned from the war. Either way, Wolfy didn't care.

"We can't lie to Wolfy for much longer, and I know Perry will be looking for us, you specifically Rocco. I don't know why you didn't end it when the fuzz took him to prison, and to top it off you visited him before you came to get us out of that hell hole. You didn't tell him anything you shouldn't of, did you?" I looked at him with angered eyes, I was going to kill him if he did.

"Course not! What fool would? The only thing I said to him was that he needed to control himself and-" Even if he didn't tell him where we were running off to, he said something he shouldn't and I knew it. I cut him off, I was burning with fury.

"You said you loved him, didn't you? Why the hell would say something so stupid? You don't love him, but he still thinks so, that's why he busted out of jail three years before he was due just to patch up the rough spots! You know he wants to make everything the same as it was before, so of course he's going to find us," I said bitterly. I couldn't believe Rocco, how could he? He didn't deny it, so I knew it was true. He had said those words, the only words that held so much power, which meant something to him.

"So what? I do love him! …Or I did. Well I thought I did, but I can't go on with him. And even if I were to tell Perry, he wouldn't take it well. But it wouldn't matter, it's not like I have a special someone in my life anymore. Everyone has someone except me, and maybe that's just how it's suppose to be," Rocco argued, he ran his fingers through his greasy hair. A loud knock was at our door, it was late and maybe that's what made me afraid to answer it. Rocco made himself look presentable, and made his expression calm before he answered. He slowly opened the door, my heart raced, for the second time in my life I was absolutely terrified. Rocco opened the door, and of all people to be standing in our door way, it was Dallas Winston. Oh God did I want to beat him senseless for scaring me, though I knew he didn't have a clue. "Dally? What are you doing here, how did you know where we live?" Rocco asked a bit angry, he had been frightened by the random visit too.

"What? I just thought I'd stop by, and got the information outta Soda. He'll tell you anything if you act like you're going to hurt him so bad he can't walk. Anyway, I just couldn't wait until tomorrow, I got so excited about knowing that you were a Sunday night drinker and that you were interested in what I'm selling," Rocco made a disgusted face, and being frustrated, told Dally to get inside before the world saw. I saw Dally was carrying a brown paper bag, and he held it up so Rocco could see. "I brought a present," he said with a smile.

"No thanks, Dally. I only drink when I'm away from home and on a Sunday night, plus I got bigger worries than who I'm sleeping with for the night," He added bitterly. Rocco thought it was rude to bring him a liter of vodka, and that last part burned Dally so bad. Rocco looked at the bottle, "You'd need more than a liter to get me drunk or even buzzed. Well since you're here, you might as well stay. There's a jailbird out on the loose," Rocco informed.

Dally made a face of confusion, he didn't understand why he should stay if there was just one man lurking about. "I don't get it, so it's one guy? I could take him, no problem! If he gives me any trouble, he'll be in pieces!" Dally said, very cocky about it. A record doesn't mean a thing if he's never killed anyone for pure pleasure. Perry has, even though he looks just like anyone else would, but if you were to anger him enough, he'll make you bleed to death.

"You don't understand, he's an old war buddy of mine and I know he's--," Rocco couldn't tell Dally. It was really none of his business anyway. "Oh never mind, it serves no importance to you. You don't want to hear about my problems, so don't even ask about them," Rocco barked, for some reason he thought it was best that no one outside the family knew of our problems, even though friends could sometimes help us fix them. Plus he had almost forgot that Dally was interested in him. Rocco didn't want Perry anymore, after knowing those things he did and how he could be. He really did prefer to be with Dally, but the age difference was so high, and Perry was only two years younger than he was. I could tell by the look on my brother's face that he really needed a drink or a smoke to calm him. Quickly he whipped out a cigarette and lit it as fast as he could and took a long drag on it. He released the smoke into the air above us, it floated merrily even though Rocco's express was not as calm as he'd like it to be.

"Well, I'd like to know these things. After all, I don't see what the big deal is," Dally said as he stood real close to Rocco. Rocco took another long drag.

"I told you not to ask, and I meant it, damn it!" Rocco barked again, his voice was like thunder in a calm sky. When it came to dropping subjects Rocco expected them gone as soon as he was done talking. But it seemed Dally didn't understand that. I starred to the wall near the door, thinking about how we were going to tell Wolfy, and how we were going to hide ourselves for the time being. But on Monday night we had no choice but to go out, we were scheduled for a gig, and there was no way we were going to miss that. Well then, I suppose running from monsters doesn't make them disappear, so we have to face it and fend it off as much as possible. In some way I was happy to finally see Perry again, but…well, maybe that jailbird has changed. But even if he did, why did he break out of jail? It was hard to sort my thoughts about Perry, and I'm sure Rocco was feeling the same. Dally wasn't making either of us feel any better to top it. Rocco looked at our grandfather clock as it rung twelve times, I already knew what he was going to say. But what were we going to do with Dally? "Dally, I guess you can stay here for tonight, you sleep on the couch. Sweets and I will get ready for bed," He said as he ran his fingers threw his hair once again.

"Now that's no way to treat our guest! He's sleeping on the floor in your room. I'll get some sheets and things for you Dally," I said with a welcoming and warming smile. Rocco gave me a sharp glare as I walked to the hall to get the 'sleeping material' as my older brother called it. I came back and handed a pillow, a comforter, and a sheet to Dally and took him to Rocco's room; which was unusually clean. I could tell Dally took notice of the same disturbing cleanliness as I did. Before Rocco left to war, he was always a slob, but I suppose the army does a wonder to a man. "Good night you two, and no foolin' around! I sleep right next door ya know, and I don't want to hear any of it," I said as I walked out into my room to throw on a nightgown and jump into bed.

Rocco's POV:

Oh great. Just lovely. My dearest sister is having me sleep with the only person I would hope to not get Mono from. He gave a wolfish grin as he turned to look at me, I didn't bother to return a smile. I threw off my shirt, took it and put it in my hamper. I grabbed my pajama bottoms from the night before and began to unbutton and unzip my jeans. I noticed Dally looked closely as I started to remove my pants, and it made me feel as though I was a male strip-tease artist from a nude bar. I held on to my pants to make sure they didn't fall off since they were not longer attached to my hips. Dallas just watched, though attempting to look like he wasn't. He was a horrible actor. Eventually I just dropped my pants, and I stood there for a good five seconds, Dallas' focus was now all on me, 100 percent. The only problem was that he wasn't looking at me face; his eyes were more down south. He gave the same look Perry did when he saw me half naked for the first time; it was a bit creepy. I gave him a glare and rudely added, "What? Never seen a crotch before? Or is it the penis you're wondering about?" I was embarrassed by the way he looked at me, like an object. I felt so gross, and a bit dirty, God I needed a shower or something. I then hurriedly pulled up my pajama bottoms, and then his eyes met mine for the first time in ten minutes it seemed. "Eager, are we?" I took my pants and put them in my hamper as well.

I gave Dallas another strange look, and he blushed slightly. "No, it's just…Well, I haven't been very forward with myself. And I need you to know, and I need to know—" Oh God, not this. Not now. I really don't care about your feelings and I really don't care about mine. If anything I didn't have any at this moment, plus wasn't Dally suppose to be like a homophobe or something? Mr. Macho-Man, Mr. Heterosexual? I really didn't want to hear that he was a hypocrite, I hated people who made fun of others to hide themselves from the world. I know I'm being cold and heartless, but I must remember about Perry…Oh why did you leave? My eyes saddened, but not so much to where I was about to cry. I don't cry, I take it like any other Greaser, you don't cry in public... But I just don't cry in general. "—I need to confess that, I am feeling a strange attraction to guys. Not that I'm a queer or anything! But—"

Oh. My. God. What the hell did he just say? I walked over to him, grabbed him by the collar held him up and slammed him against the wall. My expression was angry, not furious, and not mad with rage. Just angry, and thank God I didn't get that upset. "What. The. Hell. Did you. Just. Say? You didn't just say, queer did ya? I hope not, because you NEVER say that word in this house! My brother and I are treated as anyone else, ya hear? We ain't no queers and if I ever hear that word in this house again coming from your mouth then there's gonna be some trouble. And this kind you can't get out of, or fight through. Understand, amigo?" I said with such poison in those words. Dally looked worried, not so much scared. I didn't intend to scare him, I intended to get my point across. I gave him a disgusted look, released him, and sat on my bed, facing him. He was worried about what I'd think of him now, not of my words. "Tu estúpido."

He looked at me as though I was crazy. He seriously was considering calling the men in the white suits and having them come find me. "What was that? It was…weird," That was all he could muster from astonishment? Did he even go to high school? I was only in school up to my junior year, but damn. What do they teach here? I have a very vast vocabulary and Dally has…almost no vocabulary.

Dally walked my way and sat next to me on the bed, leaving a gap between us. Leaning forward, he got real close to my face like he was about to kiss me, but he didn't. "How is it you know so much? Very worldly aren't you? I bet that with a man who has so much knowledge can produce much love," He said as he looked at me with love in his eyes.

"You don't love me," I growled basically.

"—What?" Dally was surprised to hear me say that. I think I shocked myself too, but I was really thinking about Perry, not Dallas.

"I said, you don't love me. You don't know me well enough to call it love, so why do something that means nothing? Sorry Dally, but I don't like waste my time on meaningless kisses and passions. I prefer to have someone that means something to me, someone who won't just be like a one night stand," I said as I faced away from him, but I could still see his face through the corner of my eye. He looked so hurt, like I had taken his heart, thrown it to the ground, shattered it, stepped on the pieces and then spit in his face. Now I felt like a huge jackass, almost a jerk. I turned to face him again, he looked so disappointed and sad that I didn't say something sweet, something nice. But why hadn't I? God I'm the biggest dumbass there will ever be in the history of history. But what did he want, I'm not Sweetheart! But I'm not my father either, and thank the Lord I wasn't. I was hesitant, but I felt as though I needed to say it. I know I was just really angry and stressed, but still that made no excuse. "…Dally, I'm sorry. There is no excuse for that, and I don't know how to erase it. I'm just a huge idiot, I know it and you know it. Don't even bother to deny it, and I'm sorry I made you feel so bad, so horrible. I didn't mean those things," I said as I smiled weakly. Dally didn't try to deny it, just as I asked him not to. I needed to do something, just to show I was sorry. I sat up, leaned forward and kissed Dally on the lips lightly. He didn't pull away or get scared, instead he kissed back. There was never a better way to say 'I'm sorry' meaningfully with a kiss. I meant the message the kiss was sending, that's why I did it.

"…Rocco, I—" Dally pulled away slowly, he didn't look at me. I knew what he wanted to say and he was really awkward about it. I knew he liked me; there was no need for words. He painted me a picture instead of writing a poem like most people do, and I liked what it said.

"Don't speak, I know," I said as I kissed him again softly, tenderly. I knew that he was a very sentimental person once you got alone with him. That tough guy routine was all for show, he was very sensitive from what I could tell. I pulled away from him then, and looked at the small clock on top of my dresser. It was late, I was getting tired, plus there were things I had to do in the morning. Like make breakfast, and be a slave for the day to my siblings until night fell.

"Rocco, I don't know. What if they find out? What will they say? I mean…I just can't stand two men having a relationship and here I am. I don't think I can do this, I just… I'm really tired, how about sleep huh?" Dally said, he attempted to shun me, but I knew he couldn't.

"So what if they know, who cares what they'll say? Dally if you don't know then don't bother; I ain't going to have drama over some game from someone playing with my heart. Especially if they aren't sure," I said bitterly, I couldn't believe it. He wants me, yet he denies himself because of things he would hear about him and to top, it that made him unsure when he was so positive a minute ago. He might as well be a 14 year-old girl who's knocked up; there won't be much of difference besides the fact that people would jump him constantly. Well if Dally was going to be that way, he wasn't someone I wanted to mess with. Until he knew, I didn't want a thing from him, no booze, no money, no sex, nothing, not until Dallas Winston was sure he wanted me. "Have it your way, sleep it is. Oh, and don't you dare try to sleep in my bed or I will beat your brains out," I said, shooing him off my bed.

He made a little bed out of the blankets Sweetheart had got him, pulling the comforter over himself. I turned off the light, and buried myself under the covers. Softly, he said sadly, "G'night."

For some reason of another I pitied him at that moment, and replied "Good night Dallas," and that was all that was said during the night, nothing more.

--------------- Good Morning Lazy Bones! ------------

Wolfy's POV:

I awoke with the sun in my eyes; I had left my blinds open again. I started to turn until I noticed an elbow jabbed into my rips, and it hurt like a mother. I heard Buddy Holly playing his song 'Girl on my Mind', at that moment I knew Sweetheart was up. She was messing with the radio again, but maybe it was because our normal station was playing The Beatles, and God our family hates them. They were rubbing out Elvis Presley with music that sounded like a dog's howling, in other words, we thought it was nothing but noise. So we always checked all the 'Oldies' Station, finding something we liked or something better than The Beatles.

I worked my way around Two-Bit so I didn't disturb him while he slept. I got off my bed and threw on the pair of jeans I had worn yesterday, but I was too lazy to find a shirt so I just walked out into the living room. I saw my sister sitting in front of our radio while drawing something on a little sketchpad she had. "Where's Rocco?" I asked sleepily, rubbing my eyes as Buddy Holly filled my head.

"He's not up yet, but he should be making breakfast. What a lazy. Hey Coyote, do you know how to pose? I need a model right now," Sweetheart said as I walked to her, and then in front of her. I really didn't know how to be a model really since I wasn't too fond of staying in one place for that long. My sister got up from the floor and began to move my arms and body as though I was a Barbie doll or something like that. Finally she found the pose she wanted me in, and God was it uncomfortable, but she sat on the floor beginning to draw. I felt myself starting to loose balance; also I knew that if I moved she would beat me in the head with that big wooden spoon Rocco has somewhere in that kitchen of his. Well, it was morning and usually that meant nothing exciting was about to happen for a few hours.

Johnny's POV:

I tried to get away as best I could, but I knew it was hopeless. I scrambled for the door, trying to pick myself off the floor. My father had done it for me, and it was accompanied by numerous punches to my face and stomach. He yelled vulgar words, rambling about the things that I should be, that I should have done. I tried to speak, only soft whimpers escaped, and then he punched me in the mouth. He dropped me on the floor where I once lay, then kicked me continuously in my ribs, the pain was unbearable. I wanted to die at that moment, at even moment that I was beat for something stupid and senseless. I wish I could run away, but I really had nowhere to go. Blood was dripping from my the corner of my mouth, I could feel it run as another blow was taken into my rib cage. Finally it stopped, and I was so happy that it had. It must have been time for my father to get to work. I tried to move, and I found out that I could, but I wouldn't until my father had left.

I assumed he had gone to work after I heard the front door shut, so I began to slowly pick myself off the floor. I wiped my mouth in disgust, then I looked down at myself, and I noticed that amazingly nothing was broken. 'What can I do?' I thought to myself, no one could help me… could they? Only one person came into my mind, Rocco. He asked before about my father and when he comes home… I wanted to tell him, I desperately did. This needed to stop, and for once, I was going to do something about it. Rocco would make it stop, he had to, and I know he would. I ran out the front door, my destination was The Garcia's home. I can't stop for Pony; this was too personal for even him to know.

As I ran up the street, I passed The Curtis house, I knew I would be at Rocco's front door in a minute or two. I slowed myself as their front door came into my view, and strangely I heard, or I think I heard, Buddy Holly. I was now in front of the door, though hesitant to knock. Did I really want this to happen? What a stupid question, of course I did! …It needed to end, and now. I took a deep breath and knocked, and then I heard someone coming. The door swung open, ruby red lips smiled at me; Sweetheart's green eyes sparkled as she let me inside. "So, what's up Johnny-boy? You don't look so good; did the Socs mug you or something? Poor thing," Sweetheart said to me as she looked at my face.

"I need to talk to Rocco. It's kind of an emergency…" I said weakly, the thought of actually talking to someone about these events is a bit strange, and it is hard to choke up.

"Well Johnny, can you talk to me about it? If it's real important then you can tell me," I knew she was trying to help, I really know she was, but I just couldn't tell Sweetheart this.

"It's… something. Has to do with my um… personals," I replayed what I had just said in my mind and it did not sound like what I had meant it to.

"Well, if you say so Johnny. I won't meddle in your affairs, relationships or bodily functions." Yeah, I had given Sweetheart the worst deformed idea I could have meant. "I didn't even know boys could talk about such problems. What'd you do Johnny? Must have been bad if you want to talk to my brother about it."

"Well, I need to talk to him soon. What's he up to now?"

"Sleeping like all good adults do when it's their night to go out. It's 11:37am now, so he should be up a little after noon Johnny. I'll make you some toast or something that I can't possibly mess up… like pancakes." She said as her ruby red lips turned into a smile once again, and she walked to the kitchen to find bread and what I assumed to be pancake mix. I took a seat on the couch, listening to Buddy Holly on the radio. I looked up to see Wolfy, I hardly noticed him. He was in a very strange and somewhat ridiculous pose, and it didn't make any sense to me until I saw a sketchpad on the floor with a charcoal pencil.

Rocco's POV:

Forest surrounded me; the enemy was at least thirty yards ahead of my troops and me. Countless rounds were exchanged, death all around us, we felt the enemy closing in. Perry was to the side of me, looking for ammunition on one of our dead companions. Fear in his eyes, hands frantically searching for the right objects, and they began to shake from anxiety. A bullet flew and bounced off my helmet, knocking it off my head, though I didn't seem to notice. We had been fighting for two hours straight; perhaps there was no hope for us now. We were to be taken as prisoners and then killed with our other fellow troops who had died before us. Perry gave me what he could find; he also quickly threw my helmet on my head where it once rested. Sweat trickled down off my face, but I didn't dare whip it, I didn't dare blink, otherwise that may have been the end of me. The end of us. There were three nests in front of us, but now only two shot at us. Perry lowered in our foxhole, I could tell he was losing hope for all things sane, and for all hope of returning to our native land that Lady Liberty proudly looks over. He wasn't alone, so was I. For a second or two I stopped firing and pulled off a grenade from my belt and threw it towards one nest, and it exploded violently as I had hoped it would. Now only one nest shot at us, and I returned fire. It was just Perry and myself; if I was going to die then I had to make my death memorable and meaningful. There was no other way to earn such respect than by doing something bold in the heat of battle. Perry had picked up a stone about the size of a grenade and tossed it at the nest, I heard no gunfire, so I took advantage of the moment. They had been fooled by the trick, so I lifted my rifle and shot the men down, and continued to fire until there was more blood than uniform showing.

Like a fool, I jumped out of my foxhole, leaving my rifle behind. Perry yelled in horror as a Vietnamese man came from the third nest and shot the left side of my chest and shoulder. Sharp unbelievable and uncontrollable pain came from me, I whimpered but did not scream with the voice that wanted to escape. I held my chest, it was getting harder and harder for me to breathe, I fell to my knees in what I thought to be defeat. It seemed that this is where my life would end; I looked up at the man, knowing he would spare no mercy. He did unto me as I would unto him, but another shot was fired, it flew throw the middle of his chest, cloth ripped apart with the flesh as the bullet entered. Another shot was fired to the left of the first wound, and one last shot to the man's neck. Blood poured from his throat, staining his chest scarlet, as he fell into the darkness of my mind, falling to dirt and mud. Perry ran to me as I looked away from the man before, his neck was a mangled mess; pieces of flesh hung from it, small gasps still came from his throat as he struggled to hold onto life. Blood still flowed freely from the large hole that seemed like a black abyss were all the evils of his mortal body flowed to its rightful place in Hell. He jumped over the foxhole, arms spread out to catch me. I felt so light-headed, so cold, and in such unbearable anguish. I clenched where the wound was, blood seeping through my fingers, the blood was flowing freely now, escaping around my hand and fingers. I was losing balance, as well as consciousness. I was afraid for once; I didn't want to die, not at nineteen. Everything slowly turned black, my eyelids were closing, as I felt my body fall backwards, hitting the soft soil, it was over, and I knew it. The last thing I heard was Perry's fearful cries on a soldier's communication device, I've forgotten the name. Then at last, from the Vietnamese man I heard the air come out of his lungs as his voice made a low screech-like noise, at last he was dead. And soon, that would probably be me.

I awoke in a cold sweat; I was struggling for breath as I held the once wounded area of my chest. The scar that was left from the battle was still in its place, lighter than the skin around it. I looked at the clock, it told me the same time as I had almost died three years ago, "12:13pm," I said to myself, remembering that moment when I thought I had died. I thought that maybe I should have died… even though I didn't. I was lucky that day, I suppose, lucky to have Perry by my side. Since that day we had been Blood Brothers… and no matter what, Blood Brothers would always watch out for each other. "For he who today sheds his blood with me shall be my brother," I whispered as I read the words tattooed over that scar on my chest. He had saved my life, donating his blood to me. If he weren't there, I wouldn't be here today. I thank him as much a man can, with all his body and soul, but it begins to make me wonder. I don't like thinking much about what happened that day, or what happened over seas. Because usually, when I make a prediction of something I wish to never happen… I'm right. Always. And it scares me. I didn't want to know that our division would be transferred to the frontline as soon as we got there, I didn't want to know more than half of our soldiers would be killed in battle, I didn't want to know that I would be emotionally shut out from the world after my leavings from war, I didn't want to know that I would almost die and find my love sitting in a chair next to my stretcher, but I knew somehow, I knew before it all happened. They say that there is a beast in war, though honestly, the only beast there will ever be is the one inside of you. The one that drives us to kill, cheat, steal and lie.

I got out of bed; there was no purpose to stay were bad memories lingered. As I walked I almost tripped on something, but more like someone, I had forgotten Dally was sleeping on the floor. I simply walked over him, opened my door, even though I wasn't ready to face the world. As I exited the hall and made my way to the living room, to my surprise Johnny was sitting on the couch, looking like he was expecting me. His gazed turned my way as his eyes grew wide and his face fearful. I knew he was looking at the scars that I had carried home with me, and no dubitably the black ink that stained my skin forever. "Hey Johnny, what are you doing here so early?"

Johnny's POV:

It was amazing yet frightening how Rocco had so many scars on his body, along with tattoos that looked like they were meant to draw attention away from them. Many of the tattoos were words, quotes I guess, from war buddies or something. I could only read the one on his chest, and that didn't make much sense to me. Why would anyone shed his blood to be anyone's brother? To me it was bit stupid, but I'm sure it had meaning to him, so I kept my mouth shut. "Johnny, you look like you got mugged by some Socs. Are you okay? Nothin' broken I hope. Who split your lip?" I knew he was concerned, but I had to talk to him alone about it. There was not other way for me to keep my dignity… well, what little of it was left.

"Rocco, I need to talk to you alone. It's pretty personal, nothing I can't say it out loud, and it's just too much." Rocco looked at me with slight confusion, I think he was trying to guess what it was.

"Um, sure Johnny. Come on, we'll have a man to man talk," He said as he stretched out his arm, I came willingly to him, and I think I was running by how fast I flew into that comforting arm of his. He was like the big brother I never had, always there to show me that there was no monster under the bed. I clung to his body, almost in fear that if I were to let go, he would leave me. That was the last thing I needed, and I tightened grip around his torso. As we walked into his room, I noticed Dally on the floor sleeping. Rocco kicked him to make sure he was still asleep, and he was because he still snored and didn't move. He sat me on his bed, and he kneeled in front of me, and still he was taller than me. "Now what is it that's so personal Johnny? It must be somethin' big if you're embarrassed to talk about it in front of Wolfy and Sweetheart. I'm sure a fight with a Soc or three isn't that bad."

"Rocco, I wasn't beaten by Socs… it was my father." I couldn't look at him as the word escaped my mouth. I knew what fury he would release.

"WHAT! Johnny how could that bastard…?" He didn't know how to put his words, it seems he was overwhelmed by something that he hoped to never happen. He stood up and paced. "Johnny, when does he come home? WHEN DOES THAT FUCKER COME HOME! I'LL KILL HIM, I WILL! SLIT HIS THROAT LIKE THE SOW HE IS!" He yelled stronger than my father could ever. He barked and growled, taking animal like features because he was unsure as to what to do.

"Well, most of the time he comes home around eight o'clock but sometimes around seven. But I don't know what difference it would make," I said, it was a bit obvious that I couldn't put things together well.

"Johnny it matters because this needs to stop. And I'm going to make sure of it," Rocco said with a demented chuckle in his voice as he grinned with an unsound smile. He didn't seem angry at all as he did a few moments ago, so why the sudden change to such happiness? If I knew better, I'd say he was ill, but from what I wouldn't know. "No need to worry Johnny, the beast will crawl on its legs in agony, wishing to return back to Hell. The beast won't escape from justice, it will face it." That grin never left his face as he said those words, and it worried me so. But I'm sure there was no meaning in his words, after all, Rocco had to be the most prudent person I know. I think that's the only word I learned in school so far… "Well Johnny, we're going to go out there and face the world once again. And at night I'm going to have myself a few drinks, and then perhaps be abstaining enough to come home and not kill myself by tripping." I didn't know what he meant but I just shook my head in agreement.

We walked back into the living room, Wolfy was face down on the couch, and Sweetheart was sitting in front of the radio drawing in her sketchpad, listening to one of Elvis Presley's new songs. Wolfy was asleep, I could tell by the way Sweetheart was ignoring him. There was a knock at the door, Sweetheart turned her head and looked at the wooden frame of it. She was hesitant to answer, so it knocked again. Slowly she arose from where she sat and opened the door. The smile that she had given me was not present when she opened the door only half way. If anything she looked worried. "Hey Sweetheart, may I come in?" The voice was unfamiliar to me, so I didn't understand why she was so worried about who it was.

Rocco's POV:

I knew that voice better than anything, "Johnny go to my room and stay there." But before Johnny could go, 'he' entered. Perry Allison, was pleased to see Sweetheart, and soon laid his eyes upon me. Those eyes were hypnotizing and drew me to him; fond memories of him quickly came into play. Once more I was a lovesick dummy, gazing at what I thought was my haven, my sanctuary. I walked over to Perry, no longer remembering the things he had done, only remembering him. We fell into each other's arms, in some way it was like knowing we had bother survived an event that could have killed us both. Johnny was standing far behind us, in the hallway entrance where I was stood next to him. "I missed you so, why did you take forever to return to me?" I whispered into his ear.

"It was hard find you in the middle of nowhere. I've missed you more than you could ever imagine," His whispering voice flew threw ears, it was a beautiful melody that I never wanted to stop playing; I wanted it to go on forever. Slowly I pulled away from him, but his arms pulled me back into a passionate kiss, which I had been longing for. I heard someone coming from my room, I figured that maybe it was Johnny, but no. It was Dallas Winston; he had finally awakened from his slumber and saw me kissing my long lost love.

Author's Notes: Hey everyone, sorry it has taken forever to update! I've checked when I last posted a new chapter and that was so long ago that I didn't even want to count the days. Well, here's an kind of un-important fact about Rocco: His birthday is December 7th (I decided this when I made his character) and on this day in World War II the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. I never knew which day this happened on (and I live in California! How sad am I besides really sad? …It was a rhetorical question, which means don't answer please.) and I was amazed when I found it out. And it kind of scared me too. A military character was born on one of the most memorable days in the state of California… not a good thing to remember though. From just that day, most of the soldiers that fought against the Japanese went insane. So I salute those who fought, and died or survived that tragic day. Because I love them for such bravery.

P.S. REVIEW PLEASE!

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Name: Perry Allison

Age: 20

Ethnic: Irish, German, English, and Scottish

Sexual Preference: Bisexual

Grease or Soc: Greaser

Eyes: Overcast Sky Blue

Hair: Blonde

Skin: Fair

Height: 5'11"

Background: Was a war buddy of Rocco's who committed a crime out of anger. When he had entered the war as a 'Replacement Soldier' he wasn't treated as fairly as he was at home. When he saw Rocco, the two of them stuck together during the war, making sure each of them stayed alive at any cost. The battle that was fought against the Vietnamese Nests was the first battle that Perry and Rocco fought together. When Rocco had awaken; they became Blood Brothers and soon after lovers. After he had returned from war he saw that his father was a woman beater, and that was something he just couldn't stand. He hated anyone to mistreat a woman, and so he did his father in. After so, about a day or two later a gang of Socs started talking trash about Sweetheart who was with him at the time, making fun of her, and one of the Socs actually hurt her during all of this. Perry wouldn't take it; he wouldn't stand for his Love's sister to be treated anyway other than like a queen. Within an hour he had all Socs on the flood, bleeding to dead, their flesh in spiral like he had tried to make ribbons out of their muscles and skin. That night he was arrested for his crimes. Now he has broken out of jail and is on the hunt for The Garcia's, and has found them successfully.