Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or the song, Come Away To The Water.

A/N: Last chapter. Be prepared.

Come away little lost. Come away to the water. To the ones that are waiting only for you. Come away little lost. Come away to the water. Away from the life that you always knew. We are calling to you.

It was supposed to be a white Christmas this year. It was already snowing and it was six. Christmas was just a few hours away and everyone in town was heading home to spend the evening with their families and cuddle up by the fire, listening to Christmas music, eating cookies, wrapping a few forgotten gifts, and preparing for Santa to come tonight.

I haven't asked Santa for anything in years, though tonight, he was the only one who could give me what I really wanted.

Randy was sitting outside, smoking in the snow. He directed me inside and up to his room without a word. Marilyn was in the kitchen, cooking and I wondered if they were talking yet. If they ever would again.

"Merry Christmas," I broke the tension in the room. "Looks like we're going to be loaded with snow, huh?"

He took a long drag from his cigarette and stared at me. "Marilyn was talking to Mom yesterday. She talked to you, didn't she?"

"She apologized."

He smirked and took another drag, slowly breathing out smoke. "She knows she's wrong...finally. Michael dying did something to her, I think. She ain't the same anymore."

"Is that why you dumped her?"

He looked out into the sky. He's stance was smooth and collected. I hadn't seen him so calm in a long time. It was a different side of him. Randy worries. He always has. Not now though. "Parking tickets, huh? I heard about that."

I buried my hands in my pockets to get warm. "Yeah, it's a pretty stupid thing to get busted for. He'll be out soon they say."

"Good for ya'll," he said coldly. "Everything seems to always work in ya'll's favor."

I shook my head. "Don't be that way. You got a good life, Randy. I used to want your life. You got good parents who would do anything for you. Your mother would die for you. You're lucky you got them."

"Parents are nothing but bullshitters."

"Says the person whose still got some."

He stopped and looked at the ground, watching the ash fall of his stick and land on the ground. "I didn't mean it like that, Dan." He sighed deeply. "I'm thinking of taking off after break anyway. I've got relatives in Chicago. I think I might go up there. I just can't be in this town anymore with these people. If you can even call them that. I'm sick of looking at them. I'm sick of being a Soc."

I sat silently and listened.

"It's been hell for so long," he went on. "I've lost all my friends. Too many. First Bob, Sam, and now Michael. They weren't the best of people but they were still my friends and they were good deep down. I just...I don't know what to do anymore."

His voice shook and he took another drag.

"You remember Jason?" he asked. "He was in our History class. He never came, but he was in there some. When he went missing, the teachers didn't even notice. Just figured he dropped out. Funny, huh?"

The wind blew through our hair.

"Then Sam was just fine and dandy afterwards," he said. "It always made me mad. He always told me what to do... especially with you. It was like he was jealous of us or something. I don't know. I believed him though."

"What we had...it ended the night Jason died," I said slowly. "Everything died that night. Sam just finished it off, like he always did." I took a deep breath. "We've both moved on."

Randy stared out and lit another weed. "I am sorry, Danni. I'm sorry for dragging you into all of this. Into this crazy screwed up mess Sam started. Into what Bob started. Into what Michael started. I was wrong. You told me that. Plenty of times."

"It's over now."

He looked at me now. "For right now." He stood up and walked over to me. He put his hands on my face and pulled me forward. His lips touched my forehead. "Take care of yourself, Danni Curtis."

He turned and started to walk away. I watched him, the wind blowing his hair and snow coating him. "You too, Randy. You too."

Beginning of August - four months ago:

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the clock. He never kept the door locked. It worried her in some ways but tonight it came in handy. She fell back on the bed and counted the cracks on the ceiling. She felt her eyelids grow heavy. She let sleep take her over for a few hours.

The door slammed. It jolted her up. She sat and looked at him smiling at the door. He winked at her. "Why are you late?" she asked.

He ignored the question and headed into the bathroom. It was dark and he knew she couldn't see him. He ran the cold water and let it gather up in his hands. He splashed it on his face and picked up a rag and dried everything off of him. He saw the red water in the sink slowly swivel down the pipes. He knew she couldn't see.

She was standing at the door. He could feel her watching him. He knew she didn't know he knew. She thought she was sneakier than she really was. She over thinks. That's her problem. It always has been. People like them can't see what's right in front of them. She can't see what's right in front of her. Tonight is an example of that.

"I've been waiting," she said quietly. "I was getting worried."

He tossed the rag over the rack and slyly smiled at her. He knew she ate that up. "Worryin' about little ole me?" His shoulder blade caught hers as he walked by. "I'm flattered."

She did her signature sigh. The one that said she wasn't in the mood to play with him. "Can we go to dinner now?"

He pulled things out of drawers he knew she didn't see. These things he needed. These things he needed tonight. He needed them for her. She just didn't see it and he knew she never would. "Let's stay here."

Her footsteps were quiet. She stood beside him, softly lying her hand on his shoulder. "I'm hungry," she whined. "Let's go get dinner and we'll come back here. I can lie to Darry and say I'm at a friend's."

He broke away from her and paced around the room, looking for more things he knew she'd ignore. "I got some food in the fridge."

It was dark but he knew she had her arms crossed. She was doing her stance too. "Can't we get a real meal?"

"I'll order pizza," he suggested. He latched the lock on door and dead bolted it. She still didn't notice.

She started following him around the room, still not noticing what he was doing or caring to turn on the lights and see. "You promised we could have a date tonight. Can we please go out? Just once?"

He shut the closet and passed her again. He headed over to the window and stared out of the crack from the blinds. She stayed behind him, still worrying about food. He cracked the blinds a little more. Not too much though.

"Dally?" She walked closer to him. He could see the flashing lights coming. It was coming. Faster. He closed the blinds faster. "Are you ok?"

He touched her face gently. He looked her in the eyes. "I'm always ok."

Happy endings are for fairy tales and we all know those are full of shit. No one ever has a happy ending. Ever. Everything is always changing and there are always new problems to worry about. Happy endings don't exist. They're just ideas planted into our brains so we have high hopes and then, ultimately, are always disappointed.

Happily ever after isn't real.

My heels clicked on the slick metallic floors. I wish I'd worn better shoes. The guards were staring at me from the corner of their eyes. It made me duck my head down and focus on the floor. I focused on the color, the shape, the shine. Anything but the cops.

I reached the end of the hall to the last booth where he sat. He was talking to someone on the other side with him. I smiled thinking he had friends though hoping he didn't get too comfy in there. His eyes stuck on me once I came in sight. A sly smile came on his lips.

I smiled and took a seat on the hard chair. Maybe with time I'd get used to the feeling of this room. The sadness it brought. The discomfort. The uneasy feeling. The bad karma that was all in the air.

"I see you've made friends."

He sneered and leaned back in his chair, trying to get comfortable. It was a hard job to succeed at in here. "What'd ya bring me?"

"Do I look like your mother?" I asked with a playful grin. I knew he expected food. He was always complaining about the food. It was all I heard since he got here.

He eyed my chest and stuck his nose up in the air as if smelling something. "What's with the lack of fabric?"

"It's Christmas for you too," I told him, leaning forward, taking his focus away from why he was upset with it. "I talked to Randy today. Cleared some things up. Everything seems to be good for now."

He didn't take his eyes off the outfit. I wasn't sure if he heard me or not. I didn't repeat myself. "Yeah."

"I got you something." I reached into my bag and pulled out a box wrapped in green wrapping paper with a bow on top. I slid it toward him and watched as he unlaced the ribbon.

He pulled out the plate and examined it. "Cookies?" His hand dug the bottom of the box as he stuck his tongue out from the corner of his mouth. "What else we got in here?"

"Merry Christmas."

He pulled out the little bottle that was at the bottom and made a face at it. "Shampoo? This your way of sayin' I stink?" He read the label. "Sorry, Curtis, Raspberry isn't my brand."

"It's mine," I informed him. "It's the shampoo I use."

He made a confused face. "Well...thanks for the cookies." He ripped into the plastic and stuck one in his mouth. "You did good there."

"It's supposed to smell like my hair." I laughed. "You're not supposed to use it. Just smell it." He made yet another face. I shrugged. "I saw it in a movie once. It's supposed to be romantic. You know, remind you of me and how I smell."

He slid another cookie into his mouth and nodded. "Sure, sure." He chomped on the loose chocolate chips that feel. "I got you somethin' too, you know."

"Oh?"

He rose up a little and dug in his back pocket. "We got crafts here." He pulled it out and slid it across to me. "Merry Christmas, Curtis."

It was a beaded bracelet with a green string and purple beads. It looked like something a second grader threw together and a few beads didn't match and some were missing. I held it in my hand and smiled at it. I didn't want anything from Dally. I'd convinced myself that. Guess I didn't convince myself that well though. "Merry Christmas, Winston."

He munched on the food in his mouth. "These double chocolate chip?"

I could see the cop that was supposed to be watching us. He was talking with one of his friends, laughing it up. I gulped and thought over my plan. My palms sweated. I leaned over and whispered, "We need to talk."

He licked his fingers clean. "Shoot."

I put an arm in the way of his vision from my chest. He needed to listen. I was only once I was going to say this. One person who would ever hear this. One person who would ever know besides us. One person that I needed. I just needed one. I needed this one. "Are you listening?"

He groaned and whined, trying to move me along. "I've got things to do so, yeah, yeah, I'm all ears. Give me your best shot."

He shouldn't use the term so loosely.

My mouth shook as I opened it. I saw the guard and kept my vision on him, making sure his ears weren't peeled. I spoke softly, "There's something you need to know. Something I should have told you a while ago."

He raised his eyebrows, becoming slightly amused and curious. "Go for it. I'm all ears."

I wish I could hold him. I wish I could just touch his hand to calm him. I wish there wasn't a wall between us. "It happened before you came along. Something a long time ago. Something with Randy and my old friends. Something we did."

He sneered, no longer taking this seriously. "Don't tell me, ya'll wore white after labor day!"

I wanted to hit him. I wanted to hit him hard and make him hear me. I settled and moved on. "No. Dally, listen. Listen for five seconds."

"Five whole seconds?" He rolled his head back and whined. "I got shit to do! It's Christmas Eve. Shouldn't you be with your family? C'mon, there's a party I gotta get to."

I clinched the bracelet in my hands. I pressed myself closer and stared at him. "Dally-"

He moved to get up. He searched around the room and smacked his lips together. "Curtis I'm gettin' some grub so if you don't mind-"

"I killed someone."

His face dropped to the ground ever-so-slightly. He stood for a minute, staring blankly at me with no emotion what-so-ever in his face. He broke away and quickly scanned the room, making sure no bystanders heard a word. Then he slammed down in his seat and payed attention. I had finally caught something.

"Are you a fucking moron?" he hissed, getting angry fast. "You don't show up in a fucking jail and say shit like that! Shut your fucking trap, Curtis! Cut the shit!"

I panicked and things started pouring out. I wanted to punch him. If only there wasn't something blocking us. "I'm not cutting anything because there's nothing to cut. If you'd sit down for a goddamn minute and let me talk, you'd know that."

His face twisted in different shapes and colors. "Listen to what? You going on and on about some dumb shit. This is not the fucking place to bring this shit up!"

"His name was Jason Gibbs. He was a greaser," I started spilling uncontrollably. Word vomit. It was going everywhere. All over this damn place. "Sam was teasing him and-"

"Shut the fuck up!"

Vomit again. Here it comes. "Things went too far. Sam began to play rough and-"

He wanted to grab me. He wanted to beat me over the head. He slid on the table, shushing and hissing at me. "Curtis!"

I was upchucking again. Here it comes. It's overflowing in mouth. "He shoved him and he fell down concrete stairs. Blood went everywhere. We were scared."

"You're going to get yourself killed!" he shouted at a whisper. "Shut the fuck up!

"Sam told us to take him and run in the woods." My stomach turned. Real vomit was forming. "I didn't know what to do. None of us did. Sam threatened to tell on us. We did what he said. We buried him."

Dally covered his ears and blocked me out. He was still watching the people in the room like a hawk. No one could hear me. I was quiet. He could still hear me though. I knew that.

I continued, "I'm sorry. I...I didn't know what to do. I was just a kid and I thought if I just blocked it out it'd be ok. Soon I forgot about it and it didn't seem important. No one brought it up until Sam died. Then everything just came back for some reason."

Dally's face was hot red. He had a scowl like one I've never seen before. He uncovered his ears and calmly leaned forward and began to talk normally again. "Why? Why come here and tell me this now?"

That was all he had to say? There was no shock factor in his voice. No amount of curiosity. Nothing. No emotion what-so-ever but anger. He was angry with me. I expected that. I also expected shock. "I wanted someone to know. I wanted you to know."

"Why now?" he growled out.

His words were taking me off guard. Everything I just said was finally hitting me. "I-I don't know. You're in here and I just needed to tell someone before I-I went crazy and...Dally I don't know."

His face twisted again but this time differently. My legs started to shake and I wanted to crawl in a hole. I wanted to hide away forever and never come out. This wasn't happening this way! Dally looked everywhere but at me. After all this time, it came out. The story escaped my lips and someone's ears heard my tale. Someone else new knew. I expected relief. This wasn't relief. This was an uneasy feeling deep in the pit my stomach.

"Say something," I whispered, living on a hope he would.

He shrugged, biting his lip and still avoiding eye contact. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"I just confessed murder to you," I said angrily. Word vomit wanted to come out again but I put a leash on it. "And you have nothing to say about it at all?"

He ran his hand through his hair. He crossed his arms. He looked like he was thinking, or pouting, or giving me the silent treatment. I couldn't tell. I couldn't read him right now. I couldn't get in his head. He was closing me out.

Finally, he opened his mouth. "You never see what's right in front of you." He paused and cussed, hitting the table. "Fuck. You're an idiot!"

"What do you mean I don't see what's right in front of me?" I asked. "What is going on? God, tell me something!"

His face turned white. He pressed his lips together and searched the room again, looking at nothing in particular. He crossed his legs and didn't dare to even cop me a mere glance.

"You're scaring me," I stressed. I tried to get closer. "Just say something!"

Emotion. That's all I ever wanted out of Dallas Winston. Show me love. Show me hate. Show me sadness and sorrow. Show me you're something other than stone. I knew he was. I knew Dallas Winston had feelings and emotions. I knew he could speak them.

Tell me the truth Dallas. It's something I've stressed through this whole relationship, never getting anything in return. I begged and begged for it. Truth. Everyone wants it, or so they say. They never truly do. We can't take it, yet we all still ask for it.

You never see what's right in front of you.

"I killed that Soc kid, Curtis. I killed him dead."

Come away little lamb. Come away to the water. To the arms that are waiting only for you. Come away little lamb. Come away to the slaughter. To the one appointed to see this through. We are calling for you. We are coming for you.

A/N: And thank you so very much for your time. I appreciate all of you who have been following and those of you who have been around since LTWYL and the kind people who have reviewed. It means so much to me and I thank you all. I hope you all enjoyed it. From the bottom of my heart, thank you and good night.

Much love to you all and until next time,

Taylor :)