Author's Note: This chapter is written by taylor519 (user id 2770779). I wrote chapter 9 and will write from here on out.
Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.
Emma Leah walked through the shady place called Bucks. As soon as she had stepped in, she hated it there. This wasn't the type of place she liked to be around. She wouldn't be here if she didn't feel she had to.
Last night with Darry was fun, but today she had business to take care of. She couldn't let the threat of drunk Uncle Jim hang over her and Johnny's heads any longer. It was clear he was willing to hurt them, and she had to do something.
She didn't know nearly enough people in town to help her with something like this. But she knew the score. So she headed to the first person she could think of that might be able to help.
Dallas Winston.
She had never done something like this before. It made her anxious and nervous and she didn't like it. But she was willing to try, for Johnny's sake.
There was a man standing behind the bar. By the bags under his eyes and putrid smell, she was fairly certain he was hung over. But she had to ask someone, and Dallas was a regular. The guys said he was here the last time they saw him. Two-Bit mentioned that Dal sometimes spends the night here.
"'Scuse me?" She asked, just barely getting his attention. "Do you know where I can find Dallas Winston?"
The man made a sort of grunting noise then mumbled something. He wiped his hand over his face. "Upstairs. First door on your right."
Emma turned and headed towards the stairs, but not before she heard him say to himself, "Don't know how Dal get's himself a doll like that."
She ignored him.
Sure enough, she found Dally in the first room on the right. She had knocked first, but when no answer came just went in, impatient.
The room was tiny and smelled. Dally lay on his stomach, dead to the world on his bed.
It disgusted her, the smell of the room, the look of Dally passed out. Even the sound of his heavy breathing irritated her. Because it all looked too much like a scene from her childhood. She forced open the only window, letting in a cool breeze and some air.
"Dally." She called, but he didn't move. She grew frustrated with him. In this condition he looked no better than the poor slobs they had as parents. It made her sick.
She filled the dirty little cup by the bathroom sink with cold water. Returning to his bedside, she dumped it on his head.
Dallas was on his feet, cursing like a madman in a second. He grabbed her by the upper arms and pinned her back against the wall.
"What the fuck's the matter with you?!" His eyes blazed and jaw twitched.
She was too petrified to answer. Johnny had mentioned that Dal had a temper, but she never imagined this. He was terrifying, the look in his eye was murderous. Over just a little water?
"Crazy bitch." He cussed at her. But his hands left her, and he stepped away.
She shook herself. Her arms were a little sore where he had grabbed her but other than that she was fine.
"You weren't waking up." Her voice sounded quiet and weak, even to her.
He was looking through his drawers for a shirt. He didn't look back at her when he said angrily, "so you should have left me to sleep."
"I would have, but I need something." Her voice was returning again. It wasn't so much that he had scared her that made her so shaky; it was the fact that it was him. She could expect an outburst like that from Uncle Jim or her father or some other crazy drunk, but not Dally. She had talked to him, gotten to know him, even. It was just surprising for her to see that much anger in him.
"Of course you do. Why else would you be here?" He half mumbled. She wonders what he means, but doesn't pry on it.
"A gun. Or two."
He stops what he is doing and finally turns to face her. They're silent, and she's starting to wonder what he's thinking. She's never done something like this. The one small gun she owns was given to her by her friend back in Vegas.
"What makes you think I can get you one?"
"If you can't, tell me someone who can." She avoids answering his question.
"What you need it for?"
She shifts uncomfortably, not wanting to answer that either. She doesn't need Johnny to know how much danger they're in, and she doesn't know if Dally will tell him. So she says, "I have money. I'll pay for them."
He ignores this. "You haven't done this before, from the looks of things, which means you ain't a killer. That only leaves protection. Who do you need protection from?"
"Can you get me them or not?"
"Only if you answer me."
She doesn't know why he even cares. "Then I'll find someone else willing to get them." She lifts her head to meet his eyes again.
"You're bluffing." He sees her deflate at him calling it and smirks. "You don't know anyone else. So tell."
She hesitates, considers just leaving, pretending the whole thing never happened. She knows that isn't an option though. She's chosen to do this, she won't back out now.
"Johnny's father." She finally admits it. It feels kind of good to say it out loud, admit to someone else her problems. Even if it is Dally.
"He's come after you?"
"Yes. And I think he'll be back."
Dally is quite a while, turned back to his dresser. He picks a shirt and slides it on, then turns back to her.
"I'll get them for you. Does Johnny know?"
"No." He starts to say something but she cuts in. "He doesn't have to know. The guns are just a precaution."
Dally surprises her when he answers with, "Good."
She considers, just for a moment, that maybe Dally wants to keep Johnny safe too. Maybe, like her, he wants him protected. But the minute she thinks it she pushes it away. If she's learned anything about Dallas it's that he doesn't give a damn. Not about anyone.
XX
Bang.
Emma's eyes snap open in the darkness of night. What was that? Had she imagined it? She listens carefully. Sure, enough she can hear movement. Someone was in the house.
Her heart immediately started racing. Her mind came alive with images of Uncle Jim, in their house, looking for Johnny.
It could just be Johnny, getting something to eat. He had been at Darry's, and she was already in bed when she heard him come in earlier. But she could place the sound of the bang as the sound of their sliding door slamming.
Shakily, she got out of bed. Dallas still hadn't gotten the guns to her, it had been a week. But she still had her little handgun. She dug it out of her bedside table and went to check.
She crept slowly towards the living room, avoiding the places of the floor she knew squeaked. Holding her breath, she peeked around the corner. Her heart beat anxiously in her chest, and she gripped the gun tight.
It wasn't Uncle Jim. She could see the lanky frame and white-blond hair through the light from outside.
"Dallas?" She called, a little louder than she had expected to.
He wheeled around, startled, and banged his leg against the coffee table.
"Fuck!" He yelped at the sudden, unexpected pain.
She couldn't help laughing at him as she moved out from behind the wall. His eyes quickly registered the gun placed firmly in her hand, and he realized why she had crept up on him.
"You gonna shoot me, hun?" His tone was mocking. He didn't believe she would be able to shoot anyone, not even Johnny's dad. She just liked to feel tough. By the way she panicked when he snapped on her in his room the other day, it's all show.
"If I have to. Now, quiet down. You'll wake Johnny up." He has enough difficulty sleeping as it is. "What are you doing here anyways?"
He shrugged, planting himself down on the couch. "Needed a place to crash. Didn't feel like sleeping on the floor at Darry's. Two-Bit's taking up the couch."
Perfectly normal explanation. Except she didn't buy it. He always slept on their floor, and he had a room at Buck's. And besides, her house was way out of the way for him to come here.
"How did you get in?"
"You're door was unlocked." He motioned towards the sliding door.
She quickly moved over to lock it. Johnny must have forgotten. "I told him a bunch of times before to lock all the doors." She mumbled, frustrated.
"You sound like his mom. Well, not his mom. A mom." Dallas commented, still planted firmly on her couch.
She didn't know why his comment annoyed her so much. It seemed every time she had a conversation with him he ended up annoying her.
"You know why these doors have to be locked." She defended herself. He didn't reply, only turned his eyes away from her to gaze out the door. "Do you have them for me?" She changed the subject.
"Yeah." He pulled two black heaters from the back of his jeans. The way he did it was so casual, it frightened her a little. "You got the money?"
She nodded and walked quickly down the hall to her room. Hiding her own little handgun back in its place, she dug out the wad of bills hidden under her mattress.
The whole thing was so sketchy to her. Buying heaters from a hood in the middle of the night. It was hard for her to believe it was really her doing it. But she knew she had to, for Johnny's protection. And, since she had to, she was glad it was Dallas. It's scary enough for her as it is, she doesn't need to be dealing with some random, juiced-up, hood. At least she knew Dally.
He counted the money, again, so casual. She wondered if he did this a lot.
When he was satisfied, he motioned for her to take them. They were heavy and cold in her hands. She kept a straight face to keep from looking so juvenile. "Thanks." She offered, not really sure what to say.
He just smirked and lay back on her couch. She quickly went about hiding them. One in her room, she would move it to Johnny's later. The other hidden under the broken bottom to the ground cabinet in the kitchen.
She was about to head back to bed when she stopped. She turned back and went into to the living room. His eyes were closed and breathing light. He was already asleep.
"Looking for a goodnight kiss, doll?" He taunted just as she was about to leave. How had he known she was there? She was sure she was being quiet.
"No." She states bluntly. Maybe she should just leave it at that and go to bed. Before she can decide she blurts, "I just wanted to say you can stay here whenever you want." To her it sounded like her casual welcome was a rushed, panicked comment. But he didn't respond, so it must have sounded fine.
She crawled back into her own bed, somehow more relaxed now. She was glad Dally was staying there. Now if Uncle Jim broke in, he would at least be there to help. And, for some reason, she felt certain he would take her up on her offer to stay over often. Even if she hadn't offered, she thought he probably would have kept staying over anyways. She couldn't explain it, maybe it was the way he answered her when she asked why he was there. But, whatever the reason, she was glad. She could finally get a good sleep without panicking at every sound.