I know what you're all thinking: 'This chick's a bitch! How long is she going to take to update, damn!' I'm sorry, really, really, super sorry. I kind of lost an interest in The Outsiders (I'm NOT abandoning any of my stories) and I got really into the Karate Kid. I have two stories for that category: 'Him' and 'You're Ours'. I'm working my ass off for 'YO' but don't worry, I haven't forgot any of my stories. You guys are probably sick of my rambling…

DARRY'S POV

Dallas Winston. Dallas Winston. Dallas Winston. Dallas Winston. The only thing going through my head: Kill Dallas Winston. A gun would be too quick. I wanted him to feel pain. I would break that hood, even if it was the last thing I did.

Maybe a knife? No…too long and too much work. Fire? That could work. What about drowning him? Watching him finally show some emotion close to fear as he struggled for breath.

Are you wondering why yet? Dallas Winston…Ponyboy…I did my best to protect him…I swear…I'm sorry…

When Soda and I got home and found the door to his Pony's bedroom locked, we thought that Ponyboy was doing something bad. I feel so guilty now. He wasn't doing anything bad. He was the one that was good…was…

How would you react if you found your baby brother covered in blood and semen? Would you be furious or confused? I was neither…I was disgusted. No, not by Ponyboy, never by Ponyboy. I was disgusted with what sort of person could do that to an innocent, naive, sweet, little, vulnerable, helpless 14-year-old.

My first thought was the Socs. But no. They were too fussy and proud to do anything to us Greasers. They considered us trash, why would they want to rape 'trash'?

Then I thought it was one of the Tim Sheppard's gang…it couldn't have been…they didn't know where we lived…and none of them were into guys…

When Ponyboy told Soda and I it had been Dallas, I freaked. When we had first got home, we shouted for Pony to open up the door. He did after a few minutes. I was too tired to stay and yell at him, so I turned back to the kitchen when Pony opened the door, not bothering to look. But when I heard Soda holler for me, I knew it was bad. I ran around the corner and Soda and Pony were on the floor in the doorway of their bedroom. Soda was cradling Pony in his arms and whispering to him and Pony was sobbing and clinging to him. I tore my eyes from my kid brother and looked in the room. There were rope pieces on the bedposts and there was blood on the covers. Not much, but enough to worry me.

"It," hiccup, sob, sniffle "Was," sniffle, cough, whimper "Dally" sob, whimper, hiccup.

At first, it made no sense.

Soda voiced my question. "What was Dally, Pony?"

Pony sobbed more. "Dally did…this," Pony gestured to his partly-bloody body and the bed.

"Soda," I didn't think he'd be able to hear me with how loud Pony was sobbing. "Bring him to the couch."

Soda lifted our kid brother up and carried him into the living room. He laid Pony on to the couch and our brother curled up into a ball.

"Soda," I whispered. He looked up and I jerked my head towards the kitchen and he followed me into there. We were able to see Ponyboy clearly, but he couldn't see us.

"We both now what happened, so what do we do now?" I took time to stare at Soda. His handsome features were scared and his face was pale. He was terrified and concerned. I was pissed. More than pissed.

I didn't give Soda the time to answer me. I turned out of the kitchen and walked towards the door. I looked over my shoulder to Soda.

"Watch over him and don't let the gang come in," I told him sharply. He nodded and walked to Ponyboy and sat down by him and cradled him.

What I saw them will forever haunt me. Soda, happy, loving, getting high on life Soda, was pale and scared. In his arms was my sobbing, youngest kid-brother. I will never forget the sight of them looking so scared and broken. I don't remember how I felt at the time, but I knew what I was doing.

Now returning to my bothering question: Would Dally be more afraid of fire or water? Would having him feel the burn of fire satisfy my thirst for hurting him? Or would watching him fight for life underwater?

I continued my inner turmoil as I strutted out the door.

Dallas Winston hurt my brother; I'm going to kill him.

I KNOW THIS IS OOC! Now, I haven't touched my Outsiders book in a few months, so I have pretty much forgotten all the characters. Like I said, I've gotten really into the Karate Kid. I DO know where I'm going with this story and it's going to be kind of short, so forgive me.