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I don't own the Outsiders.
Dally POV
The court house was small. It was on the line separating the east and west side, but it is positioned next to a glamorous shoe store and the large marble pillars are devoid of graffiti. It's on the Socs territory.
For some reason, the Socs seem to hate me especially. They would shout four letter words and call me names. I had learned how to keep my face clean of emotion. That way, they would only shout at me, not beat me up.
Darry always said "Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me," But I know this isn't true. Words hurt, more than sticks, stones, or even bullets.
Darry was sitting next to me on the uncomfortable pew like seat. I could tell he was nervous because he wrung his hands like he was washing them.
He smiled down at me weakly but reassuringly all the same. He forced his hands to stop their frantic motions, and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
"You're gonna be ok Dally. Don't worry about it honey." The curtis boys all called each other honey, but I was the only one outside of the family that got that pet name. When I asked Soda about it, he looked surprised and insisted that I was part of the family. I knew this wasn't true, but it was nice to think so.
Court was amazingly boring. The judge (a fat old man with quivering jowls) had a rasping voice like he had smoked too many cigarettes in his youth. Darry had told me about the damage cigarettes do to your lungs, and Pony and I quit. Or at least I did. Pony still does it occasionally.
They called up the clerk that I had robbed from to the chair. I didn't recognize him. Then they called up the doctor, who explained about my amnesia.
Hours seemed to stretch out into days. Darry's arm had turned rigid around my shoulders, and it was a little uncomfortable, but I didn't want him to move it. I was scared out of my wits, and I needed Darry to hold me there, just so I wouldn't run out of that building.
The judge banged his gavel and called for a "30 minute recess" while he decided the verdict. I didn't really understand what was going on.
The judge hadn't asked me any questions, but instead addressed them to the public defender. I ducked out from under Darry's arm, which had obtained a python like grip around my neck.
"Darry, am I going to jail?" He swallowed visibly.
"If you're guilty, yes." I think he realized how harsh that sounded, because he engulfed me in a gentler hug.
"So I am. Darry, I did do those terrible things." I felt Darry shake his head, but he didn't say anything. He let go of me, but kept his hands on my shoulders, and stared me seriously in the eyes. I had seen mothers do this to small children in the park, and it always meant the kid was in trouble.
"What?" I asked, wondering if I had done something wrong. He just continued to stare at me, his eyes warming when he looked at me.
"Dally, you are going to be fine. I swear my life on the fact that nothing and no one will ever hurt you as long as I am alive, savvy?"
I nodded, a lump in my throat. He could promise this, but he couldn't follow through. I don't blame him for trying to make me feel better, but it was an empty promise.
"Ok Darry." I think I said it more for his sake than for mine. He breathed out a sigh of relief after I said it, anyways.
We sat in silence, not mingling with the rest of the gang as they chatted nervously in the back of the room, looking supremely out of place against the white officialness of the court room.
Court resumed session after only about twenty more minutes, which flew by like seconds. The judge and lawyers didn't call anymore witnesses to the stage. There was a shuffling of papers from the judge, and then he cleared his throat with the sound of chalk snapping.
"Ahem. Dallas Winston is a 17 year old male who threatened a squad of police officers with a gun. The gun was not loaded, but this is still a federal crime. He would receive 3 months, as a first time offense. However, due to the uh...special circumstances, (being that Dallas remembers nothing and seems to have forgotten his old ways) we give him 2 weeks in the Tulsa country prison."
Darry's arm around me shoulders tightened, and I felt sensation of tears in my eyes. I didn't have the energy to keep them in, so I let them fall to my lap, not meeting the judges eyes.
I got up quickly, forcing Darry to let go of me (I'm pretty strong) and looked up through blurry eyes at the judge. "Thank you." I said softly, because Darry had taught me to, but somehow I wasn't thankful. I ran down the aisle and hear shouting after me.
I wondered vaguely why, but didn't pause. I ran into the sunlight, collapsing behind a small bush and completely breaking down.
The autumn wind rustled my hair and the tears dried quickly on my cheeks, but more tears just as quickly replaced the first.
Police burst through the court room doors and looked around wildly for me, cursing as bad as any Soc. My eyes went wide at the things they were calling me, and more tears spilled over. I sniffed and Darry (who had followed the policeman) heard me.
He ran over to my hiding spot in the bushed, hurriedly crouching down beside me. He pulled me to him and whispered "It's ok" in my ear over and over again.
This show of empathy only made me cry harder, and Darry's shirt was soon soaked. The policemen looked a little scared and I heard one of them say, "Man, I've seen that boy smirk as one of the prisoners..." I didn't catch the rest but Darry did.
He let go of me suddenly, then wheeled to the policemen. "What?" Darry's voice was darker and scarier than I had ever heard. Even the fuzz backed away a little in alarm. Darry screamed this time. "THEY WHAT!"
I heard the policemen try to calm Darry down, obviously explaining something to him, and I heard Darry practically yelling at them.
I felt really dizzy, and my sobs accompanied by a pain in my head made my surroundings too loud to hear what they said. I gasped as my already blurry vision went black around the edges, and I felt myself fall to the ground.
Dally POV
I woke in a cot. Not the small, comfortable bed that the Curtis' have, but a bunk-bed cot with scratchy wool blankets covering it. I wasn't used to being this high up, and I peered curiously at my surroundings, until I realized where I must be.
Jail. I was sure I didn't like jail. I had no memories, but the smell and the dim lights made my heart beat faster.
I let out a little yell, and a mean looking man who was on the bottom bunk stared calculatingly up at me. "What is it, runt?" I winced at the insult, although I had been called worse.
"N-nothing." The man snorted.
"Never met a hardened criminal who stuttered. What's your name kid? You don't look more than 15." I was insulted at this.
"I'm 17. And my name's Dally." I heard nothing for a minute, then I noticed something on the boys face. Something sparkly, that glimmered in the moonlight.
"Hey kid." His voice was a lot softer now, and I didn't really understand why. "So, what'd you do?"
"Uh. I robbed a grocery store with a g-gun. And I threatened and officer..." My throat felt hick. Why was I such a bad person? What else had I done in my short, miserable life?
"Oh yeah. After Johnny..."
"You knew Johnny?" I asked this curiously, and I heard the man chuckle without humor.
"Yeah. Real well. Well, not really. Never spoke more than two words to the kid, but I know he was a great guy. I know someone who was pretty close to him. One of his little 'gang.'" He snorted forcedly. "If you can call it that."
"Pony's told me about gangs. He says they're dangerous and that I shouldn't get mixed up in them. He says theres this one group of greasers thats sort of like a gang, the Shepard Outfit. He says that we're all just really good friends that have each others backs."
Thinking about Pony made my heart throb, and I realized how much I was going to miss him, Darry, Soda, Two-Bit, and Steve.
"So, Ponyboy told you about the Shepard outfit huh? You know, I've...uh...heard stories about you. You used to get mixed up in that shit all the time." I winced at the swear, and hoped the boy didn't notice. He did and laughed loudly.
He climbed up onto my bed, and I was a little scared. For the first time, I saw his face in the little light the night had. It was scarred by souvenirs of many battles, and the long black hair was unruly and sticking out all over his head (like mine, except his was curly) making him look deranged.
"Look how much you've changed Dal." His voice was soft and the glittering thing on his cheek made it's way down his cheek.
For the first time, I realized that I may have known this man before today. Maybe in my "other life" we had bunked together in jail or robbed stores together. The thought made me shudder.
"What do you mean?" I finally asked, sincerely curious.
"Nothing." He stuck out a calloused hand which I grasped awkwardly in a handshake.
"By the way, what's your name?"
"My name? Timothy William Shepard, but you call me Tim." I frowned. I suppose I must have known him if I called him Tim instead of his full name. "Or Shepard, or Shep...once you called my Timmy and I-" His voice broke. "I cracked your ribs. Sorry about that Dally."
"So we were friends?" I asked, trying to keep the disdain out of my voice. Darry says that if we don't want to be judged, we shouldn't judge other people.
"Yeah. You were my only friend. Dal, How come your not dead? Why didn't you recognize me? Why haven't you punched me yet...Why did you ask my name, Dallas?" I was surprised that Tim didn't know what had become of his only friend.
"I don't know why I'm not dead. I was shot. I should have died. I should know who I am and be with Johnny and know who Johnny is, but I don't. I'm sorry. I have no idea who you are. I didn't know I had any friends, besides my brothers I mean."
My voice cracked and I cleared my throat embarrassedly. "Oh. I guess I understand why Darry didn't tell me. Didn't want you caught up in bad stuff again."
My brain finally made the connection to Tim and the Shepard Outfit that Pony had told me about. I gasped. "You're Tim Shepard!"
He chuckled. "Always were a smart one kid." I got the feeling that he wasn't being serious.
"But you're the leader of the gang?"
"Uh...yeah, but I'm pretty sure Dave is taking over while I'm in jail. I'm gonna be stuck in here for the next Two months. Beat up some Soc. Totally unfair sentence, but that's just he glorious life of a greaser." I got the same feeling that he was kidding, and I wanted to be let in on the joke, so I laughed and imitated his tone.
"Yeah. Really glorious." He laughed so hard he almost fell off of the bed, and a security guard glared annoyingly at us, but said nothing.
"That was the worst sarcasm I have ever heard from anyone." He chuckled as I wondered what sarcasm meant.
He sobered up suddenly. "Where have you been Dallas?" I liked the way he said my name. Not like an patronizing older brother, but like I was an equal. It made me feel like my old self again, whatever that was.
"I was staying with my bothers." He was silent.
"Dally, you don't have any brothers." I nodded, eyed, as Tim shook his head. "The only person you ever loved is dead. He was your brother." I knew he was talking about Johnny.
"I don't remember Johnny. I wish to god that I did remember him. I feel sad sometimes, Like I'm looking for something and I cant find it, but I don't remember ever loving Johnny. And Soda, Darry, Pony, Steve, and Two-Bit are my brothers now."
"God, you sound just like him." Thinking of my brothers and that empty hole where someone I had never known should fit brought tears of my eyes. I let out a little sob, and Tim Shepard gasped in surprise. "Are you crying Dal?"
Now he sounded like my brothers, not as though I were an equal. He hesitated, then patted my shoulder awkwardly. "It's ok Dal. I swear, if I could forget, I would in a second."