Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or the song "Sounds of Silence".

A/N: I recommend listening to this song. Just an FYI because I have been asked: there are four more chapters after this. Forty-one total.

Welcome to the next part of the climax.

Hello darkness, my old friend. I've come to talk with you again, because a vision softly creeping. Left its seeds while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain. Still remains within the sound of silence. In restless dreams I walked alone. Narrow streets of cobblestone. 'Neath the halo of a street lamp. I turned my collar to the cold and damp. When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light. That split the night. And touched the sound of silence.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite dysfunctional couple."

My throat tightens but my instincts make my feet move over to the right, hiding his view. I ball my hands up into fists and something in my stomach catches fire. "Dale I swear-"

"Swear what?" he teases, his jaw locked. "Are you scared of me, Dally?"

My nostrils flare. "What are you doing here?"

His black boots make the old wooden floor creek as he walks in a circle around the room. It's dark but you can still make out the outline of his thick body. "Can I not pay you guys a visit?"

I reach my hand behind me, seeing and telling her to stay put.

"What is he doing here?" she says softly directly in my ear.

"He's been following you, idiot," I hiss. I keep my eyes on Dale, not letting him try anything.

She swats my arm away from her, snapping in my ear, "Don't call me an idiot."

I should have known I'd get a comment back. This isn't the time for her to be talking, let alone arguing with the person who can save her life here.

I jerk my head around and growl, "Then stop acting like one."

"I can hear you two morons," someone says from across the room.

A light comes from the corner of the room as Dale lights up a cigarette that's hanging from his lips. The lighter goes out and it's dark as night again even though it's only one.

Dale slowly sits down in the rocking chair that's in the corner of the room. The wood creeks as he fully sits down. Rick made it himself. He was going to give it to his sister. He never got rid of it. Instead he stuck it in here. The wood had mildew and was chipped when I came. I've been working on that piece of crap for months.

Smoke burns my eyes and nose. "I'm a man of my word, Dally. I told you this would happen. It was supposed to happen a long time ago. All this could have been solved, but no! You had to fuck with me. You fucked with the wrong guy, Winston."

I sneer. "I don't know what you've been doing man, but I don't fuck any guys."

"Smartass." He crooks his neck slightly to the right, grinning at the sight. "Whatcha' doin' back there, Danni?"

I move to the side, blocking Dale's view more. My arms suddenly feel a lot wider - stronger. "We're talking. Look at me when I'm talking to you, or it'll be your face I blow away."

Her arms clinch onto the back of my shirt. I feel her hands shake.

"God," Dale says, leaning back and holding his hands up like he's apologizing. "You get so tense when it comes to her. What's so goddamn special about her anyway? The Dallas Winston I know wouldn't risk everything for a girl."

My arms keep twitching, hungry for blood. "I didn't risk shit. I've told you a million times and I'll tell you again, dipshit, I'm not scared of you. You're not my boss and I don't work for you...and that tears you up."

"I got someone who's joined my team." His head moves again, this time to the left. "You probably know him, Dan. In fact, I think you two might have the same birthday. Fine kid. Little soft...but I can fix that."

I leave my unwaverable position and rush across the room, feeling the wind at my back. Lightning lands right outside the window, making it easy to see. I pull Dale up from the rocking chair, slamming him against the wall by his leather jacket.

"I'll kill you," I growl, looking down at his pathetic, scum of a face.

His lips curl as he laughs at my attempt to intimidate him. "I'd like to see you try."

A tree falls nearby. I can hear the cracking of the wood. I check behind me to make sure she's still standing there. She's moved to the corner of the room. With lightning hitting every minute, I can see the insides of the room.

I can hear her breathing. This is bringing up memories. Memories that haunt her dreams. Memories that are yet to have healed. This isn't the same though. Not this time. I wouldn't let the same thing happen this time. Even if I was the one to fall.

Dale grunts, moving to the side to get comfortable. I let go of him, making his feet fall to the floor. "You're a bug, Dale. A rat, a vermin. Useless. You think you're top gun? Please. I started this. I'm the head leader. I shit bigger than you."

I leave him on the ground, turning my back to get the girl from the corner, ready to kick her head in when she screams, "Dally!" She points behind me and I can't breathe.

I don't have to turn around. If she wasn't in front of me, I would have remained where I was. Instead, I wipe around, backing up so she's completely behind me and I'm blocking her.

I hold my hands up, directly facing a loaded Colt Python. "You really wanna do this?"

"Move, Winston."

It's dark, and I couldn't see before, but it's now that I realize the gun isn't aimed at me. Instead, it's directed a little to the right, just behind me. That's when my heart beats against my chest, and I feel a cold sweat coming on.

I know that gun. I know where that one in particular was made. There's a warehouse in the slums of New York. That's the birth place of this whole operation. There, beside a flower shop and a hardware store, this gun's brothers and sisters were made ready to be passed along to worthy holders, passing on the secrets of making said guns.

It's not a hard job. You just have to have the right equipment. That's the hard part is finding. The bullets are what make this gun so special. They're unique. Hand-made. When they hit you, you don't stumble, you don't bleed to death.

You die on cue, like you're supposed to.

It takes a special kind of person to make these guns. I know Dale didn't make his. It would have cost a shit load for Maggot to ship it and the others on over, and being the cheap asshole that he is, I doubt he would have shelled out the big bucks. Especially after he gave Dale a shit load for Ronnie's bail and my lawyer.

That's what Maggot uses. A Colt Python. Nothing shoots better.

Or I should say kills better.

"You've lost your fucking mind," I say. "What do you think Maggot's going to do when he hears about this?"

He waves the gun around a little, clearly unaware of how to use it properly and unaware of its potential. I watch his hand movements. He's not aiming it well. Not well at all. He can't hold it straight.

He rolls his eyes. "You would have called him already if you thought he'd be on your side. When was the last time you talked to him anyway, Dallas? What's Maggot gonna think when he finds out you lied to him about her, huh? He'll order me to do this if nothing else."

A voice behind us pipes up, "Lied to him about what?"

I roll my eyes this time. I rub my temples before hissing sternly, "Would you shut up already!"

Dale clicks his gun, holding it higher...too high. "I'll shut her up."

"You're not doing anything." I take a strong step forward, showing him that I'm not going away or going to stand by and watch. This was the fight I was ready for.

I quickly reach into the back of my pants, clicking into place my very own Remington.

He can't catch me off guard. He doesn't have his goons to hold me down. It's just me and Dale. A fair fight. One I have prepared for and plotted. One I'm ready for.

One that's overdue.

Dale eyes the gun, losing his grip on his. "You've got to be kidding me."

He doesn't stand so confidently anymore.

Unlike, Dale, I know how to aim, and I point it at the center of his forehead. "You think you're a big boy now?"

Dale huffs. He takes a second to think it over.

Then he does something unusual. His gun clicks and as I prepare to shoot, a flash of light comes through as he takes out his bullets. He tosses them, and the gun, onto the bed.

He looks back at me, showing me that his hands are clean. "Let's have an old-fashion show down then. Right here, right now! Put the gun down and be a big man, Dally. Me and you. One and one. Let's go."

Curtis moves. "Guys-"

"What, you ain't going to coward out this time? Is Dale really going to have a fair fight?" I copy his moves, unloading my gun as well. "Yeah, let's go."

Curtis steps forward so I can feel her hand on the small of my back. Her voice panics. "Dally...Dally w-what are you doing? No! No don't put that down! Dally!"

My gun lands beside Dale's on the bed. I motion for him to charge. "Hit me, Dale. Visitor's move first."

He starts to circle and I find myself doing the same thing.

"I'll end you, Winston," he says, a grim smile still plastered on his smug face.

I smirk, starting my engine. "Make my day."

"Guys!"

And we roll on the floor as the thunder rolls with us in the back ground.

It's hit after hit for a while. I can't see what's going on half the time. It's dark and I rely on my hands to know where he is and where he's going. It's not easy. I've hit my head on the bed more than he's hit me.

"You think you're tough shit, don't you, Winston!?"

He hits a sore spot on my rips. I cry out, bending over and holding my side. "I killed a man! What have you done?"

"I'm gonna kill two. Just watch. You'll get to see one of them first hand."

My fist makes contact with his jaw. I feel the bone break against my hand and there's a cry so loud it makes the dogs bark next door.

I find a place against the bed to rest and catch my breath for a minute. "Mighty big man you are for doing something Maggot didn't order you to do," I taunt. "You know what that'll buy you?"

The smell of fresh blood fills the air. I wish I could see it coat his face. "What'd running away buy you? 'Least I'm not a coward, Winston."

I sneer. "No. You're worse. You have no mind of your own. You carry a gun around like you're a big shot. Let me tell you something. You're a big fish in a small pond. Try being the big man in a town like New York and then we'll talk. Maggot's my partner, Dale, and whether you like it or not, I'm still Daddy's favorite."

It's my blood that spills next. The smell is overwhelming and the shock of the hit makes my head spin.

Everything goes dark for a few seconds. A few seconds I use to rest my eyes.

Where's Curtis at?

"I heard all about your New York days, Dally." The sound comes from the other side of the room.

I feel someone to my right. Their hands cup my face and wipe the blood out of my eyes and mouth.

"Heard about your momma too," he says plainly. "Real shame. Must of tore you up real bad. But then again, wasn't it expected? You had to know. A mean, a whore is a whore, is a whore. They all die bloody...isn't that right, Danni?"

I stop her hand from moving, squeezing it tightly. "Get out of here," I whisper into her ear. "Now."

"He's by the door," she whispers back. "I can't get out."

Dale's shoes squeak against the wood floor. "Maggot's a hell of a guy. When he told me about your mom, man, did I get a good image of the both of ya'll. The big partners in crime of New York. You let me down, Dally."

"I've killed a man, Dale. I'll keep reminding you of that. I'll keep reminding you it's not the first and you know that. So come at me, big boy! Show me what you're made of! Prove me wrong. Kill me, Dale! Kill me now!"

The wind is knocked out of me as a two-hundred pound body plows into me.

I don't have time to catch my breath as the hits come one by one. Blood clouds my vision. As lightning lights up the room, all I can see are fists coming towards my face.

I flip over to my side, stopping the blows so I can get mine in. My side suddenly burns with a sharp pain and I can't see. Something falls to the floor and I can't feel anything.

Then she screams...and somehow, we both stop. "Guys!"

"What!?"

A piercing noise fills the room.

Living in Oklahoma, everyone knows the sound. The devil's whistle.

"Oh fuck."

Tornado's a comin'.

Everything moves fast. Dale slips out from under me. Wind hits the house so it feels like it should come off the porch and fly up to the sky. My head's spinning from the hits, and as I stand, I spin too.

"We need to get out of here," I say, holding my head. "Wh-what..."

"She ain't going anywhere. She's mine!"

I shake my head, trying to stop the spinning. I'm going to hurl. I'm really going to hurl. Oh God. "Are you crazy?" I manage to get out.

I stand up straight just as light flashes into the room...and it's Déjà vu all over again.

A gun.

Pointed to a head.

A villain.

Me...the hero.

Or at least attempting to be.

It's not going so well so far.

"Very!" he shouts over the thunder and the wind and the alarm. "I'm very crazy! I told you her blood's mine."

"Dally!"

God make it stop.

Dale reloads his gun, clicking it in place. He's got her trapped in his arms. The guns right at her head. You don't need to aim from that position.

I spin around in a circle as I trip over myself, trying all I can to stop this...

Like I should have done the first time.

"This is for Jason, bitch!"

Tim Shepard ain't going to save the day today.

No way.

"Oh my God!"

Dale's limp, dead body hits the floor with a loud thud.

There's a shooting range in New York. There's even one here. Maggot taught me how to shoot a gun.

Guess Dale missed that lesson.

Her body stops mine from hitting the ground. She props me up. She's panicking. I can't hear what she's saying but she's freaking out. The house is shaking and I hear glass breaking.

I grab her arm, pulling her along. "To the basement, now!"

The windows start to shake along with the house. From across the room, I can see out the window near the door. It's coming...and it's coming fast.

More glass starts to break around us. Rick keeps the key to the basement in the kitchen on top of the fridge.

I rush into the kitchen, knocking everything over to get to the key. Why the hell he locks it is beyond me. It's not like there's anything down there but a cooler...that I've never looked in.

Ha, nah. This isn't one of those stories.

Curtis stands by the fridge as I search through the basket for the key. She hugs herself with her arms. She looks back and forth between me, the window, and Dale who's making a puddle on the floor.

"Hurry!" she screams and she takes my hand in hers. She doesn't pull on me like I suspected. She just stands there, like she's coaching me or supporting me.

"Found it!"

The little house starts to tremble. Rain pours into the house from the shattered window. Plates and cups start to fly out of the cabinets and break on the floor. We move just in time.

It seems like the longest run to the basement door. The house is small and the door is just around the corner, but it feels like my life is flashing before my eyes.

It's so dark. Everything's falling.

"Dally!"

I put my arms around her, guiding her out of harm's way.

The door slings open. I close it quickly and pull her down the stairs and to the corner of the room.

We both fall to the floor, my body landing on top of her's, my arms shielding her. The devil's storm rolls on in Tulsa.

A dresser falls in front of us. I can feel her jump in my arms. The ringing from the alarm has me deaf.

"It sounds like it's over." I stand up, taking a look around. Rick's hunting gun collection is under an antique dresser. The cooler is on its side and there's melted ice and frozen pizzas everywhere.

The railing to the stairs is completely gone. Boxes are toppled over and it smells down here.

"Hey, Curtis, how much will you give me if I eat one of the pizzas."

She's huddled in the corner still. She's shaking and the freezer is making her cold.

I smirk. It's just a stupid tornado. Girls. They always overreact. Serves her right anyway. See, none of this would have happened if she would have listened to me and just gone home.

Who was right again ladies and gentlemen?

I go over to her, bumping against her. "C'mon Curt-...You're bleeding."

"T-That's not my blood." She shakes as she hugs herself tighter.

Her shirt has stains and spots of blood here and there. Not all of it is Dale's. I can tell by the color and the fresh smell.

"No," I say. I lift her shirt up, revealing the gash on her left shoulder. "Shit."

"It's fine," she says, gently pulling her shirt back down over it.

I can see that she's getting sick from the sight and smell of the blood. It's all I can smell in this basement. I look around the room and notice she dripped all the way down the stairs. He blood covers the small room.

She shivers, making my view go back to her.

She reads my mind, "I'm ok."

"You have a gash in your shoulder, idiot."

Her teeth chatter together as she tries to get out something along the lines of: "You're an idiot!"

I make a lap around the area, looking for something that can help with the bleeding. I find an old black t-shirt and throw it at her face. She knows what to do and tightly ties up her shoulder.

"Thanks."

We sit in the floor, just like that.

It's always calm just after a big storm. Just like in real life. It's calm before a storm though...and that's what's scary. You never know what to expect. That's life though. If you were supposed to know all the rules, you wouldn't be human.

It's the aftermath of a storm that's iffy. Cleaning up the mess you made.

"You just killed someone."

I smirk, rolling my eyes. She's a little late on that one. "Yeah, what else is new?"

I jump up. My car's already packed. I've got a lot to figure out. That's for sure.

"The door's locked." I jiggle the knob. Nothing.

She looks up for the first time. "Can you not push?"

"Something heavy is pushed up against it," I grunt, putting my shoulder into it. "It's not budging."

She looks around the room. She finally gets up and starts to walk around. Her legs shake. I watch as she struggles to take a few steps. "Is there a window down here?"

"You're in a basement," I point out. "There are no windows."

"So we're stuck down here?"

"Looks like it."

"Great." She starts to lift the cooler back up, sitting on top of it.

These stairs are going to need some work. I skip over the broken ones until I'm in front of her. "Let me see your arm."

"I told you it's fine."

I wish she'd quit shaking. Though, I can't say I blame her.

"I just saved your life. Consider this my thank you. Though I really had a much better idea of how you could thank me. Something that involved lace, fried chicken, and some boozes."

She rolls her eyes. I can't tell if she's pretending to be disgusted or if she's really getting sicker.

"You're bleeding," she says lowly, a slight panic forming in the back of her throat. "Dally, you're bleeding."

"What?"

She points to my right, just below my nipple. I look down. A trail of blood has trickled down from my shirt, still going strong.

A fresh stab wound.

It isn't her blood on the stairs.

It's mine.

"Fools" said I, "You do not know. Silence like a cancer grows. Hear my words that I might teach you. Take my arms that I might reach you." But my words like silent raindrops fell. And echoed. In the wells of silence. And the people bowed and prayed to the neon god they made. And the sign flashed out its warning, in the words that it was forming. And the signs said, the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls. And tenement halls. And whisper'd in the sounds of silence.