Note: I don't own The Outsiders

Chapter 35

"Dal, are you in a coma or dead?"

"Fuck off."

"Good enough," Pony mumbled through a huge yawn. He stood there, swaying slightly on his feet. It looked like he didn't even know he was standing in the family room, bugging the hell out of Dally for what must have been the fifth time that night. It was starting to get light out and he could barely make out Ponyboy's silhouette in the cramped room. His hair was sticking up every which way and Dally was sure his eyes were actually closed. Damn kid was sleepwalking.

Darry being Darry, he took the doctor's orders to the extreme and made Ponyboy wake Dally every hour instead of every three. Dally would have almost felt sorry for the kid if it didn't also mean he had to suffer through Darry's overly cautious plan as well. It didn't help that he could hear Darry snoring down the hall. Forgetting for a moment that it was his own damn fault for pulling the two of them into his own circle of hell, Dally found himself cursing the guy over the fact that he got to sleep through the night uninterrupted.

"Pony, go back to bed. I ain't gonna die on your couch," he grumbled.

"Swear."

"What are we, five? Yeah, I swear. Go to bed. You're givin' me a headache."

Instead of following orders, Pony blindly made his way to the recliner and slumped into it. The hinges made a sad creaking noise as he raised the footrest. The springs squeaked in protest as Pony tried to find a comfortable position. Apparently, he was settling in for the remainder of the night, or the rest of the morning. Whatever the hell you called this time of day.

"It's early," Pony stated simply.

"Or late," Dally countered.

"Depends on your point of view, I suppose." Ponyboy failed to stifle another yawn. "Man, guess I won't be goin' to the paper today."

"Read some of your articles," Dally admitted nonchalantly as he crossed his arms behind his head, wincing as he bumped the bandage covering the stitches. "Not bad. Didn't know you missed me so much."

"Didn't know I did 'til I wrote it."

"Well, you shouldn't. I sure as hell don't need some brainy kid hanging around, screwin' everything up."

"Whatever you say, Dal. But I wasn't anywhere around and you got yourself into this mess just fine without me."

"That was all Shepard's doin'," Dally said matter-of -factly, not expecting an argument.

Pony, apparently, had forgotten in the last few months that you just don't contradict Dallas Winston. "Sure, blame it on Tim," he said with a tired laugh.

"You got a death wish or somethin', kid? I said it's Shepard's fault and it is. My head may be bashed in, but my fists work just fine, so I'd watch it if I were you."

"Be a great payback for us coming to your rescue."

Dally closed his eyes and pictured his fist going through the wall. That calmed him somewhat. "I didn't need rescuing," he ground out.

"Geez, Dal - used to be you could take a joke."

"Let me know when you tell one," he said, rolling over with his back to the room, ending the conversation. "Go to sleep. You gotta wake me up in an hour."

The next time Dallas woke up the sun was streaming through the windows, the smell of burning pancakes filled the house, and Two-Bit had just crash landed on the couch - right on top of him.

"Jesus Christ," he barked in surprise as he pushed Two-Bit onto the floor.

Two-Bit was sprawled on his back, a look of confusion on his face. Dally was looking down at him from his spot on the couch, a mixture of anger and exasperation warring within him. Two-Bit cocked an eyebrow, a smile slowly spreading across his face as his eyes grew wide. Apprehension began to creep up on Dally. Two-Bit looked like a teakettle that was about to explode, the pressure needing an escape. It was going to be loud - he knew it.

"Glory - look at who it is!"

Dally cringed as the words split through his skull like a razor sharp buzz saw, starting at the throbbing wound on the back of his head and traveling up and over until it settled between his eyes. He flopped back onto his pillow with a groan.

"Easy, Two-Bit. Dal's had a long night," Darry explained as he came into the room, carrying a plate of food and a cup of coffee. "Feel like eating?" he asked as he set the items down on the coffee table.

Dally looked over and immediately felt a wave of nausea wash over him. The pancakes were burnt in places and swimming in butter and syrup. But that wasn't what turned his stomach. No, it was the fact that the pancakes were a weird cross between the normal pancake color and a faint green tint. He definitely wasn't up for green food at the moment.

Swallowing heavily, he said, "No thanks. I'll take the coffee, though. And maybe a million aspirins."

"Right." Darry leaned into the hallway and yelled for Soda to grab the aspirin from the bathroom. The noise was finally getting to Ponyboy and he made a funny smacking sound and rolled over in the chair. Dally hadn't completely forgotten the kid was even in the room. Someone had thrown a blanket over him during the night and he was holding on tightly to a pillow. He looked like a little kid - all that was missing was a fucking teddy bear under his arm.

Two-Bit was still on the floor and he tentatively stretched out his leg until it hovered over the end of the chair that was hanging in the air. Dally smirked, imagining the chair snapping closed, sending Ponyboy crashing to the floor.

Darry looked down at Two-Bit. "Don't," was all he said as he turned and walked back into the kitchen. Two-Bit gave Darry's departing back a mock salute and reluctantly dropped his foot to the ground.

Soda ambled into the family room in his jeans and stocking feet. His DX shirt was hanging open and his hair was dripping from a recent shower. He looked well rested and wide-awake. Dally hated him for it.

"Hey, Dal," Soda said with a warm smile and a sympathetic wince as he handed him the bottle of aspirin. Dally grabbed the bottle and sighed with relief as he downed four of the pills with the coffee, not even carrying that the liquid was scorching hot and burned a path down his throat. He knew it was all in his head, but he didn't care - the moment he took the medicine his headache began to ease.

"Thanks, man," he said gratefully and without any edge of sarcasm or malice.

"Anytime," Soda said. "Want any breakfast?"

"No thanks. Darry already offered. You do the cooking?"

Soda laughed. "Yeah. Too burnt?"

"Nah. Too green," Dally admitted lightheartedly, a tone he hadn't used in months. He found himself grinning despite himself, his mood lightening. It was too easy to drop all pretenses around Sodapop Curtis. Hell, it was too easy around all of them, which was probably one of the reasons he stayed away. He never really gave it much thought - why he'd stopped coming around. He'd suffered through all that psychiatric crap in prison and he wasn't about to do it on his own now that he was out. It was all bullshit anyway. His mama didn't love him, so he hated the world? Whatever.

The screen door suddenly slammed shut, causing Dally to jump slightly, coffee sloshing over the side of the mug and spilling on his hand. "Goddamn it," he growled, feeling like his old self again, the moment before forgotten.

Steve walked into the room and headed straight for the recliner, not even noticing Dallas. "What's with Sleeping Beauty here?" he asked sarcastically as he pushed the footrest down in a quick motion, sending Ponyboy to the floor in a dazed heap.

"Huh?" the kid mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Have a nice trip, Ponyboy?" Two-Bit said, giggling. Dally rolled his eyes. What self-respecting nineteen year old giggled?

"Geez, that's lame one, Two-Bit," Pony said with a yawn.

"Yeah, well it's early."

"Do you think he should take the deal or go for door number 2?" Mary asked from her spot on the couch, looking up from the crossword puzzle she was working on while watching TV.

I don't care, Johnny thought with uncharacteristic sarcasm. He was bored, plain and simple. And tired, and sore, and kind of grumpy. "Door number 2," he replied in a monotone as he watched with disinterest as the guy "won" a goat and some hay. His parents would have probably tied the damn thing up in the backyard and celebrated their victory with a bottle of cheap whiskey. Better yet - they would've tied him up in the backyard and given the goat his bedroom … and celebrated with a bottle of cheap whiskey.

Therapy had been early that morning and his therapist had apparently been on a mean streak and didn't let up until the two hours were up. He didn't even know why he bothered going any more. It wasn't like he was ever going to walk again, so what was left to rehabilitate? Mary's argument was that he should keep going as long as the state was paying for it. Exercise was exercise and every little bit helped him get around easier. She was right, of course, though he didn't feel like admitting it just then.

He also suspected that she enjoyed being back at the hospital, even if it was just as an observer. He hoped that once school started up and he was gone for a good part of the day, she would think about going back to work. Sarah had been right, Mary was a great nurse and sitting around watching game shows and soaps all day wasn't doing either of them any good. Maybe she didn't want to go back because of her son Daniel. Maybe the hospital brought up bad memories. He didn't know and he swore he would never ask.

Just as the host guy started talking to some lady dressed as a hotdog, the doorbell rang. Johnny had never welcomed a reprieve more. His first instinct was to jump up and answer it, but he was anchored to the couch - immobile and stuck, while Mary answered the door.

"Hi, Keith," she said and Johnny grinned. She could never remember to call him Two-Bit. "Thank you for remembering to ring the doorbell this time."

"No problem, Mrs. M. - I told you, I won't barge in no more without first announcing my presence," he said as though he were addressing the Queen or a head of state.

"Thank you," she answered, equally serious.

Two-Bit routinely stormed into the house without knocking or ringing the doorbell, same as at the Curtis's. One day Johnny and Tom were running an errand when Two-Bit came by unannounced. He apparently surprised Mary - she had been vacuuming in her rollers and sweats while dancing and singing along to Tom Jones. Johnny thought the whole thing sounded pretty funny. Naturally, so did Two-Bit. Mary, however, was mortified and embarrassed and made him swear to ring the bell first before coming in.

It only took Two-Bit three weeks to get into the habit. Three long weeks. Now Mary praised him every time he remembered, like a puppy. Johnny half-expected her to pull a treat out of her pocket and toss it in the air for him. Knowing Two-Bit, he'd try and catch it. Two-Bit wasn't completely reformed though - Johnny still caught him humming "It's Not Unusual" every once in a while.

"Johnny, it's Keith and Ponyboy. Oh, and you are?"

Curiosity piqued, Johnny turned to look behind him to see who else was at the door. He couldn't believe who was standing there. He'd just about figured he'd dropped off the face of the earth.

"This is Dally. Don't worry, he doesn't bite … usually," Two-Bit explained cheerfully as the trio made their way into the house.

It looked like some twisted cop's idea of a lineup - four greasers crammed together on a flowered couch situated in the center of a cozy living room in a nice middle class home. Two-Bit and Ponyboy came over all the time, but somehow the inclusion of Dallas made the whole thing seem surreal.

Dally was being quiet and polite. It was a little unnerving. Johnny figured it might have something to do with his concussion. He did look pale and kind of sick.

Two-Bit and Ponyboy explained what happened - a long, sprawling tale that was obviously concocted between the two of them to spare Mary from hearing what actually happened. Johnny was pretty sure Dally wasn't attacked from behind while protecting an elderly woman from a gang of masked robbers in some dark alley. He also doubted that Dally fought back with his newly acquired Kung-Fu skills, sending the attackers running for the hills. Luckily, they ended the story before Dally could rescue the fair maiden from the evil prince.

After the story was finished, Mary eyed them suspiciously from her chair, but she didn't say anything. She had to know it was completely ridiculous. She was a cop's wife, for Pete's sake - she had to have heard the name Dallas Winston before. But she didn't say anything, leading them to believe they'd fooled her. She stood up and made her way toward the kitchen. "Are you boys thirsty? I have lemonade."

No one answered at first and Mary looked a little hurt. Johnny cleared his throat, hoping to help her out. "Lemonade sounds great." The other guys nodded in agreement.

"Cookies?" she asked and Dally snickered. Ponyboy elbowed him in the ribs, obviously forgetting for a second who he was sitting next to. It was a crucial error and Dally made a fist, waiting for Mary to leave the room so he could pummel the kid. As soon as she did, Dally landed a sharp jab to Pony's upper arm.

"Ow!" Pony cried out as he rubbed his arm in annoyance, the spot already turning an angry red. Dally pulled his arm back again but Two-Bit reached out, stopping him.

"Enough, Dal," he said evenly.

Dally's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You're joking right?"

Two-Bit's answered with a slow shake of his head. "Nah, man. Just quit it, okay?"

With a jerky move, and obviously against his will, Dally dropped his arm without throwing a second punch. "Give me a break. Y'all have bought into this crap, haven't you?" He sounded angry and disappointed, like they'd all let him down somehow.

"What're you talkin' about, Dal?" Johnny asked from the opposite end of the couch.

Dally spread his arms wide, indicating the room they were sitting in. "This. Flowers. Paintings. Nice Furniture. Sunshine. Kittens. Lemonade. Cookies. It's all bullshit."

"That's not fair," Ponyboy said defensively but flinched as though he was preparing for another punch. It didn't come. Dally just sat there, his jaw clenched as though he would explode, but something was holding him back.

"Hey, what's wrong with kittens?" Two-Bit asked suddenly. He looked at Johnny. "Do you guys even have a cat?"

Johnny stared blankly at his friend; his mouth hanging open as he slowly shook his head "No". Kittens? Really? This had to be one of the strangest conversations he'd ever been a part of.

"You know what I mean," Dally said angrily. "This is not us. It ain't right."

"Would you rather have Johnny living in some boys' home in the middle of nowhere, being ignored, or mistreated, or God knows what else?" Two-Bit looked like he was going to start a rumble right there in the middle of the living room on top of the plush Persian rug with poor Pony squished in the middle, unable to escape. Johnny found himself wondering if Tom ever had to arrest anyone in his own house before. First time for everything, he supposed.

"This was stupid, coming here today. I'm outta here," Dally said as he pushed himself up from the sofa. Just then, Mary entered the room carrying a heavy tray of drinks and food. She was struggling slightly and smiled when she saw Dallas stand up.

"Oh, thank goodness. I thought I might drop this," she said as she looked at him, waiting for him to help. Dally stood there unmoving and Johnny was certain he was going to turn on his heel and leave the house without a word. But he didn't. Somewhere deep down, Dallas Winston found the courage to do something decent for a change.

The glasses clanked together as he sat the tray on the coffee table. Everyone reached out and grabbed a glass of lemonade and Dally was the first to take a cookie. Just as he was about to take a bite, Two-Bit interrupted him.

"Wait - I thought cookies were evil?"

It felt like old times - like a hellish ten months hadn't just passed, changing everything. They were in the park, killing time on the tiny basketball court. Dally was under a tree, claiming his head hurt too much to play. He had his sunglasses on and Johnny couldn't tell if he was watching them play or if he had his eyes closed - probably the latter. If it wasn't for the fact that he kept raising his hand to take a drag from his cigarette, Johnny would have thought he was sleeping.

It was hot and they were all moving a little slowly. Johnny was still getting the hang of maneuvering his chair on the macadam and playing basketball at the same time. His therapist had taken him and Ponyboy to a game that was made up of teams of guys who were in wheelchairs and those guys were tough. It was amazing to see. He wasn't anywhere near as good as those guys - but he was still somehow beating Two-Bit. Maybe it was because he refused to put down the bottle of beer he'd smuggled out of someone's house under his jacket.

"Man it's hot," Two-Bit said for the hundredth time as his shot the ball one-handed and missed, for the hundredth time.

"Well, maybe you should take your jacket off. It's a million degrees out and you're wearing a leather jacket and complaining about the heat," Ponyboy pointed out as he slowly dribbled the ball.

Two-Bit looked down at the ground and kicked a pebble. He didn't have a witty comeback and Johnny grew suspicious. "Two-Bit, why can't you take your jacket off?"

Shrugging, Two-Bit said, "No reason."

Ponyboy snorted in disbelief. "Come on, man. Somethin's up."

"Fine, fine," he said as he sat the bottle carefully on the ground and shrugged off his heavy coat. "There. Happy now?"

Both guys leaned in closer to get a better look. There, plain as day on Two-Bit's upper arm, was a huge red heart surrounded by two flying cupids and a ring of roses. An intricate scroll bisected the heart and contained a single word, written in a delicate, flowery script - Kathy.

"Well, that sure is tuff," Ponyboy laughed.

Two-Bit examined his arm, a perplexed look on his face. "I know. Bitch of it is - I can't even remember agreeing to do it. One minute, Kath was saying how romantic it would be to get our names tattooed on each other and the next thing I know, some huge bald guy is jamming a needle in my arm."

"Wait, she got one too?" Ponyboy asked, a shocked look on his face.

Two-Bit grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah and you should see where. Wait. Scratch that. If you ever see where I will have to beat the shit out of you."

The game seemed to have been forgotten as Two-Bit relayed his story of the wayward tattoo to Ponyboy. Johnny slipped away unnoticed and made his way over to Dally. The grass was uneven and he had to struggle a couple of times to get the chair over the roots of the tree, but he made it.

"Hey," he said quietly. The shade felt really good after being on the dark macadam under the sweltering mid-day sun.

"Hey," Dally replied, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He held them out in front of him. "Want one?" he offered.

Johnny shook his head. "Nah, gave 'em up."

Dally didn't say anything at first. It was hard to read his expression behind those glasses and Johnny wished he'd take them off. Dally withdrew a cancer stick for himself and shrugged. "That's cool, I guess."

Dally sat up a little straighter, his back propped against the rough trunk of the tree. He pulled of his glasses and squinted up at Johnny. "So, you like them? Your foster parents?" he asked hesitantly.

Johnny smiled. "Yeah, I do."

"They treat ya okay?"

"They're cool. Really nice. They never yell," he explained carefully.

Dally laughed at this. "Kid, you never gave anyone a reason to yell. Your folks were just fucking nuts."

"I haven't seen them," Johnny said suddenly. He played it through his head constantly; sometimes he even dreamt about it - well, those were closer to nightmares, really. What would it be like to be in the same room with them again, run into them on the street or in a store? What would he say to them? What would they do?

"Not even in the hospital?" Dally asked and Johnny shook his head, looking down at his hands, which were folded, in his lap. "Good. Who needs 'em, right? No way they should've been allowed to be parents in the first place. Fucking idiots."

"Thanks, Dal," Johnny said quietly.

"No problem, kid. Just be careful," Dally said, leaning forward. "Don't be surprised when you hit eighteen and those nice folks you're livin' with send you flying out the door, slamming it shut behind you."

"They ain't like that."

Dally put his sunglasses back on and gave a cynical laugh. "I'm just warning you. It may be all lemonade and cookies now; but turn eighteen and it'll be: See ya later kid, don't let the door hit ya on your way out. Trust me on this."

Ponyboy came strolling up to the shady spot, interrupting the conversation. Two-Bit was trailing behind, holding his jacket over his shoulder with one hand while the other held the nearly empty bottle of beer. A couple of girls jogged by and he was momentarily distracted, yelling catcalls after them.

"So," Johnny started once Two-Bit joined the group, "what are you gonna do with the tattoo once you and Kathy break-up again?"

"Ain't gonna happen, kid," Two-Bit assured them as he tipped back the bottle and drained the remaining contents.

"Right," the other three all drawled in unison.

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A/N - Sorry this one took so long to post. It was starting to feel like the never ending chapter, lol. Thanks again for all the reviews.