Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or the song "Go Your Own Way".

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Hope you all had a good weekend!

Thank you Niikkii and Kennyboo for becoming new readers! Thanks so much!

Loving you isn't the right thing to do. How can I ever change things that I feel? If I could, baby I'd give you my world. How can I if you won't take it from me? You can go your own way. Go your own way. You can call it another lonely day. You can go your own way. Go your own way.

He weaves the thread through skin. I hiss for him as the skin forms together with the stitch.

"Dental floss?" I ask.

He pours more alcohol on the wound. I want to hiss for him as I watch the blood roll down his side.

He lets out a breath of air. "Works wonders."

I rest my chin on my knees, blocking out the pain in my shoulder. It's been over an hour. Dally's gone through almost every box down here. There's no telling how old that dental floss is or the alcohol.

I've kept still, watching him go through all the boxes and commenting on everything inside.

My stomach is twisted. My legs are tensed. My breath isn't normal. I can't shake this feeling. I'm not sure what it is. It's a mix of all possible feelings. There's a dead body over my head, Dally wrote that he loved me, and Dale tried to kill me.

Not to mention the mental debate I'm still having with myself as I try to sort through all the things Dale said and try to determine what all of that meant.

I get nowhere, as always.

It's something to keep me busy though.

"How'd you learn to do that?" I ask.

He shrugs, cleaning up his newly stitched wound. "I was twelve. Made a bet I could play 5-finger fillet. You could say I lost."

"Well, Dr. Winston." I force a small laugh. He seems so calm and rather...chipper. I can't put my finger on why or what's going through his head. It's a cover up. I see that. But for what?

He points over at me. "I could help you out there with your little problem if you'll let me."

I groan, thinking about the pain. "I'm going to have to pass on that."

"Suite yourself," he grunts as he begins to clean up. "You have thought of the possibility of bleeding to death before we have a chance to get out of here, right?"

I've thought of a lot of possibilities.

Those letters and what they said keep popping up. I can recite each word.

Dally cared. I'm still not sure what that means to me or if it changes anything. He still lied. He still killed a guy. He still left me. At least now I know he sorta felt bad about it.

I crunch over, lying on my good side. "It hurts."

"Here." Dally comes over with a handful of pills. "Knock yourself out."

I hate dry swallowing pills but I get down two and rest my head against the cool freezer.

It's dark down here. There's one light but it doesn't cover the whole room. There's a small bathroom that hasn't been used since the 30's and there's a dead rat over in the corner, being devoured by maggots.

Maggots. Ha.

Dally goes back to doctoring himself. He cleans up all the blood and wipes off his hands. He takes a chug of the twenty year old whiskey Rick stored down here and then goes back to looking through boxes.

His demeanor is off. The energy is evaporating off his body like steam. He's fuming. He's stir crazy. He wants to run. What from though? Dale's dead. Wasn't that our biggest problem? Why is he so scared?

What's he running from?

I've never seen Dally this scared before. Things don't scare him the way they do other people. Dally's experienced life. He doesn't rattle easily. He doesn't run. He doesn't fear the future.

He embraces death.

"Dally?"

"I'm a little busy here, Curtis."

My stomach growls and I swallow. "What did Dale mean when he said: this is for Jason?"

He smirks and then says, "After all that was said, that's your only question?"

I shrug. It was the first thing that popped into my head. I never expected him to really answer it. "Well I've started to narrow them down to importance."

"Good strategy." He snaps his fingers. "Hey, I've got a question for you: What the hell where you doing in my house?"

"I wanted to get back at you. Go through your stuff like you did mine. I was on my way to pick up Sarah so we could go camping and I thought-"

His head darts around. He glares at me. "Wait, you were leaving town?"

"Yes?"

He narrows his eyebrows together. "And you thought that was a good idea because?"

"Better than my idea of coming here apparently," I snort.

Dally stands up, popping out his back. He rolls his eyes. "Oh, so you're telling me my letters didn't satisfy you?"

"Well having a gun pointed at your head can kinda make you regret things a little."

This makes him stop his rant and lower his head. He blames himself for what happened.

When Dally gets like this - scared or nervous - I can start to read him a little better. He has so many emotions going through his head at one time and he doesn't quite know what to do about it.

"I don't feel so good."

I roll over to my side, grabbing my stomach. It's not my shoulder anymore. Suddenly I remember this morning and I race my brain for when the last time I ate was.

Dally sneers from the opposite corner. He takes a big sip of Whiskey "Well you kinda have a hole in your shoulder. That could defiantly lower the feel good feeling a bit."

"No, it's my stomach," I groan.

"Did you take that stuff?"

"Yeah...I haven't eaten anything all day."

His eyes go wide. "You haven't eaten anything all day and you just took those!? Are you crazy? You're gonna puke."

"I forgot."

I can feel my stomach turning and my head spinning, already ready to barf.

This is going to be a long day.

"Hold still, damnit!"

"Get off me!"

"Just hold still!"

"You're going to fall on me and squish me!"

"Shut up and be still!"

Pony sits on the couch in his living room, watching his two older brothers fight. Darry had this idea and when Darry gets an idea in his head; all hell usually breaks loose in the Curtis household.

Right now Darry wants to stand up at his wedding to put the ring on Kathy's finger.

The thing is: Darry needs practice before he just gets up in front of the church and falls on her or something. He can stand with crutches if he really balances. It's getting the ring on the finger that's tough.

Darry still has full use of his good leg. It's balancing he's struggling with.

So here Pony sits, watching the play. Soda's part - Kathy Sutton.

"I'm going outside," Soda says, giving up. "The whole neighborhood is out there loading up and I'm missing out because you're trying to put a bread tie on my finger!"

After every tornado, all the neighborhood kids go outside and take claim on whatever's in their yards or on the road. Usually the bigger the tornado, the bigger the goods.

Darry sits back down in his chair and picks up the tie from the ground. "Get your ass back here, Sodapop. I almost got it."

"Darry, if you fall on him you're going to ruin the only thing he's got going for him," Pony says, leaning back and using his book as a barrier between him and Soda.

Soda rolls his eyes and sticks his arm back out to help Darry up. "Have you looked at yourself? You weigh more than me and Pone combined. I will die. Do you want me to die, Darry?"

"Hold still, damnit. I may be cripple, but I can still beat the shit out of you so hold me up!"

Soda waves him off. "I'm going to get the mail."

Pony settles into the couch, not wanting to be the next victim. He wasn't as strong as Soda. It would be impossible for him to hold Darry up.

Soda comes back in, holding a letter out for Darry.

Darry takes it, skipping over the front envelop. "Pony, what is this?"

Held in front of his face is a small envelope with his name written at the top. The address is from New York and at the corner of the envelope, there's a small gold cross.

Pony's hands tremble as he takes the letter. "Darry-"

"I thought you said you were out!?" His voice makes Pony's ear drums rattle. He winces under the pressure.

With his hands still shaking, he runs his finger across the top above the seal, his heart racing for what might be inside. He only thinks the worst as he takes the letter out and holds onto it.

"Pony, what does this mean?" Soda asks calmly. He tries to look over Pony's shoulder but Pony moves just in time. He couldn't deal with Soda's disappointment in him anymore.

Pony's chin wobbles. He takes a deep breath but that doesn't calm his body. "I-I was never really in! I swear! I told Dale I was done and he said that was fine."

Soda's hand calms him. "Pony, it's ok, just read it. Whatever's inside, we'll deal with it. It'll be ok."

Taking a deep breath, Pony unfolds the letter.

Curtis,

I wish to personally thank you for everything you've done. If I could shake your hand, I would. I've heard good things. It shames me to hear of your resent departure. I wish you the very best.

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor. Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king? Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling? For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered? Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

Take care,

Maggot

"How are you?" He's sitting beside me, propped up against the freezer. His foot taps against mine.

I shrug. I can feel my stomach acting up and I'm starting to get sleepy. The pain in my shoulder has disappeared, so that's an added plus. But I don't tell him any of this. "I don't know."

He cocks an eyebrow. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I mean...I don't know," I say weakly. I lick my dry lips. "I'm a little angry, a little sad, a little bit in pain, a little relieved, a little scared, a little cold...I'm a lot of things."

A faint smirk comes my way. "Ok. So having a gun pointed at your head made you...a little cold?"

"Can we not talk about that?"

It's starting to hurt to speak. I'm sure Dally would love to hear that fact.

Dally begins to hum The Temptations, tapping his feet to the beat. There's a weird quietness down here. If you really listen, you can hear the rats running through the walls and the pipes. The quietness is killing me.

"What happened to your mom?"

His humming goes on until the song's done. Then he casually snorts. "You still keep going strong, don't you? You never give up. I used to like that about you, Curtis. Now it's pretty damn annoying."

Maggot and Dally have been like brothers. I've heard stories before here and there. There was one Christmas they had together where Maggot's mom cooked some big meal and bought Dally presents so he would have some.

When Dally's parents kicked him out, he stayed with Maggot. He went there every summer.

He used to come back and tells stories about the city. All the guys were overwhelmed. Ponyboy and I were the ones who really liked Dally's stories. We've both dreamed of going to New York some day and hearing Dally's stories brought us that much closer to actually being there.

He talked about good times. He'd tell us about his neighborhood and his friends and all the crazy stuff they did. He told us these stories up until he was fifteen and he stopped going to New York every summer.

He never said why he stopped.

And all the stories ended.

I wonder what Darry, Pony, and Soda are doing. We go to the basement every tornado. This isn't their first rodeo or mine so that's one less thing I worry about.

What about Sarah?

Damn, I bet she's already called the cops out for my body.

"So, what now?" I ask

He pops his fingers. "Go to Canada. See what's so great up there. Go ice fishing, maybe get a job. Find a hot Canadian who can take care of me. Settle down a little and deal with whatever life throws at me."

"Wait, so you're leaving?"

"My bags are in my car, Curtis," he says after a minute. "As soon as that door opens, you can kiss my ass good bye."

I blink. I lift my head up and look him over. His shirt is stained red. "Y-You can't leave."

"You told me to leave...more than once actually."

I never meant that, but I don't tell him that. It would have been easier if he left a long time ago - yes. But does he leave when I tell him to? He never listens to me. He does things to spite me. So I know it's not me he's leaving because of.

So I'm wondering why now?

Maybe things would be easier if he left. I know they would be. Time would go on, people would forget, I'd find someone new, go to college, and have a grand life.

What would this town be like without Dallas Winston?

What would my life be like without Dally?

If I was a different person, I'd tell Dally to stay. If I was a person without pride, I'd tell him a lot of things. One being that I was wrong about a lot of things...and that I was sorry and that I was here for him.

"How's your stomach?"

"I'm ok."

He slides over an empty box. "Don't puke on me. I will kill you."

"Does it bother you that you killed someone?" I ask. "Not just now, but before?"

"What do you think?"

Yes. He's more sensitive than he lets on. That's what's so odd about this whole situation. I could understand Dale...but Sam?

"I've been over and over things a million times. Why did you kill Sam? Why did you send me away? Everything. Then today, I dunno, it just makes me think more about who you really are. What you're hiding. You're a mysterious person. I've accepted that. What I don't understand, is how you could kill a man in cold blood. You panicked when you held a gun to Jeff. So what can make you do it now? What happened to you?"

He takes another drink. He'll be drunk soon if he keeps this up. That's what he wants though. To numb all of the pain he has inside of him so he doesn't feel anything at all. Dally doesn't like to feel.

"You have so much pain inside of you. You cover it up day by day but I can feel it. You're hurting. You put on this act like everything's fine and you're some big bad ass greaser, but you're not. You feel things. You're in pain."

He hisses at me, "Well one day maybe all that pain will make sense to you."

I shake my head. "Why are you being this way?"

"Because I'm a no good JD hood, Curtis," he yells. "It's what I do. I hurt people. I break hearts. It's all part of the game. If you think for one second that what we had was some goddamn fairy tale, then you're wrong. This is who I am!"

I shake my head again. "No it's not. Don't tell me that. You're the one that ended it, not me! I was willing to stick by your side and help you but you pushed me away! You can't come back and expect everything to be ok after that."

"Why didn't you try harder? You just gave up!"

I struggle to find words after that. "I-I'm sorry...But why didn't you?" I lift my head up. "Why didn't you chase after me? Why didn't you tell me everything on your mind? Why didn't you tell me how you felt? Why did you not send those letters? Why did you let me think you hated me at this time?"

"Because you needed to move on and let me be me."

"But I couldn't...and neither could you."

He tips the bottle back up. It's almost empty and that's with half of it going onto his cut. "I treated you like shit, over and over again. Why did you stick around? Why are you here?"

"I already told you."

"No, you told me the bullshit answer. You were hoping I was home. You wanted me here. You wanted to see me."

"I did not."

"Bullshit."

I roll my eyes. I should have given up an hour ago. You never get anywhere with Dally. "Let's just face it, Dally. We hate each other. We've made that perfectly clear. We were both running away from each other so when that door opens let's just go along with those plans."

"Fine by me."

"Good."

He turns his back to me, pouting. "In the meantime, don't talk to me."

"Oh, that's mature."

"You're mature...Shut up!"

I try to force a laugh, but it stings, stopping my sarcastic come back.

Dally laughs.

I narrow my eyes. "You're a jerk."

"Why, because I'm laughing?"

"If you just want one reason, then yes." I roll my eyes, shifting to my other side while trying to settle down my stomach.

It's been two hours now and no one's come looking. I'm starting to wonder how long we'll really be down here. There's still a gash in my shoulder and I know Dally needs medical care too, he just won't admit it.

I rest my hand on my stomach and ask, "Are you really leaving for good?"

"What's it to you?" he snarls.

I shrug. "I dunno..."

"You wanna know so bad. It's eating you alive."

I don't have a comeback. Instead I clinch my stomach, turning to the side and puking up my entire stomach. I gag when there's nothing left. My head spins out of control and I can't hold it up.

Dally comes over to my side, catching me before I fall. "Whoa, man. You ok?"

"No..." I say, sitting up on my own. I rub my head. I hit my shoulder on the way now and fresh blood runs down my arm, dripping on Dally's shirt. "We really need to get out of here."

"You are such an idiot for letting me give you that!"

He stays beside me. I smell like puke and blood. This isn't the type of romantic rekindling that I had in mind.

"T-Thank you...for saving me," I tell him softly. I wipe off the corner of my mouth. "I don't think I told you that."

He sneers as he picks up my bloody t-shirt and starts putting pressure on my wound. He's calmed down for the most part, forgetting that we're not supposed to be talking to each other. "Yeah, don't mention it."

"I-I'm gonna puke again."

He pulls away. "Go ahead. No one's stopping you."

"Don't look, ok?"

I can't tell if he obeyed. I empty out what's left of my stomach and groan. Once I return to my upright position, Dally holds the shirt down harder on my shoulder, making me wince.

"You're still bleeding," he says sternly. "Shut up and be still."

I let my eyes close for a second. "Thanks."

Some time passes and I drift in and out of sleep. Then Dally moves and says softly, "I wasn't trying to make your life worse you know."

I open my eyes back up, blinking a few times. "What?"

"You think I told you to get lost because I wanted to hurt you or some other dumb shit like that," he says "I wanted you gone so this wouldn't happen."

"This? Dale?"

He doesn't respond. He's said too much and he knows I'm thinking again.

"Ow," I say as he puts more pressure on the wound.

"Fuck you bleed like a horse."

My head gets heavy. Without thinking, I lean over, resting it on his shoulder. I close my eyes for a few seconds. "Dally, please, just tell me. Please."

Tell me why everything turned around. Packing up. Shacking up's all you want to do If I could, baby I'd give you my world. Open up everything's waiting for you. You can go your own way. Go your own way. You can call it another lonely day. You can go your own way. Go your own way. You can call it another lonely day. You can go your own way.

A/N: Some contact from Maggot. What are your thoughts about the letter?

Thank you all for reading once again. The next chapter is a big one.