Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders or the song "Bad Moon Rising"

I see the bad moon arising. I see trouble on the way. I see earthquakes and lightnin'. I see bad times today. Don't go around tonight, well, it's bound to take your life. There's a bad moon on the rise. I hear hurricanes a blowing. I know the end is coming soon. I fear rivers over flowing. I hear the voice of rage and ruin.

2 weeks later:

"Danni, your date is here!"

My dress is yellow with tiny white dots everywhere. It comes down to my knees and hugs at the waist. Sarah's grandma made it. She's really a wiz with a needle. Jennie did my hair and Kathy let me borrow some of her jewelry...including my mother's ring.

"I'm coming!"

The scar on my shoulder came out nice according to Two-Bit. All that's left is a tiny red scratch under a Band-Aid. Though, like the one on my thigh, it has its own story to tell just like all other scars.

The end of the school year came faster than I had thought. Since I was home bound for a few days with my shoulder, it gave me plenty of time to study for my exams. Which I passed!

Things have been pretty dull in Tulsa the past two weeks. It's like we live in a different world now.

The tornado is the only thing people talk about. It knocked down the local church and everyone's been focused on rebuilding that. It's as if no one's even noticed anything else.

"Hi, Maxwell."

Maxwell sat up front beside me in my math class. He became my new partner when Peter and I stopped talking and he picked up the new blonde foreign exchange student. Maxwell was the only one left.

His hands are always warm and sweaty, and he pushes his glasses up every twenty seconds. I've counted.

His mother owns a shop downtown and his father is an accountant. He told me this and that he's allergic to peanuts and chocolate and milk. He also has these weird sinus problems and he carries tissues in his pockets where ever he goes.

"H-Hi, Danni! Y-Y-You look pretty."

No one knows about Dale. I've asked around and it seems like everyone's gone and no one's talking. It's like he up and disappeared in the middle of the night, not leaving a trace or making a sound.

I've stopped asking. I haven't told anyone about that day, and I probably never will.

"Thanks Max. I like your tux."

His mother's car is outside. She's taking us to the restaurant and to the dance. Pony was totally opposed to the idea and wanted to drive Sarah and him separately, but after talking to Sarah, I quickly convinced her to go along with it.

After Maxwell, slowly, puts on my pink corsage, Darry rolls up with Kathy and the dreaded camera.

"C'mon, just one picture? I'm cripple, I can't chase after you."

The three of us slide together. Pony's arm hugs my waist and Maxwell slowly does the same.

Ponyboy pulls Sarah over to his side. "Yeah, that was our plan."

Darry clicks the camera in place. "Shut up and smile."

The start of the dance was slow. Most of the popular kids didn't get here until just now, blazed, red eyed, wasted off their asses. That was the most fun part - watching them make complete fools of themselves.

Pony and Sarah are over by the punch bowel, sweating from dancing so much. They're laughing with some of their friends and are planning to go back out on the dance floor soon.

Max and I have danced a couple of times until he started to get sick. So as I sit, waiting for him to return from the bathroom, I watch everyone around me and think of how much has changed.

Marilyn and Cherry are here. Cherry is with one of the baseball players and they're clinging to each other, slow dancing even though this is a fast pace song.

Marilyn is on the other side of the room, her dress falling off of her and hair a mess. She's with a guy from our History class. I don't know his name, but I know he's not her usual popular pick, so I'm happy for her.

I take a sip of punch and look for more similar faces.

Randy's here. He's not with Marilyn. Everyone's surrounding him, catching up on old times.

He looks good. His face has cleared up and he's grown a few inches. He looks happier, more life filled.

I remember them. The good times we had. The memories we shared. None of them know what I know, but we are the survivors. The select few souls that someone saved...and they don't know any of this and never will.

"H-Hey, Danni."

"Hey, Max. You feeling better?"

He does and he's smiling. He has been all night. "Yeah, but my mom's here. I-I need to go. Are you going to leave now too or are you going to stay a little longer? W-We could take you home."

They all look better, happier. We're all at separate ends of the room, living separate lives, but we are connected, and we are the lucky ones. We're the ones who were saved.

I shake my head. "I think I'm going to stay a little longer. Thanks though."

"Ok," he says, waving goodbye. "I had a good time. Bye, Danni."

I take one last sip of punch and pull my jacket on. I slip by everyone, though they pay me no mind. This is the time of their lives. This is their night to remember and to live.

Outside, it's warm. Summer's here finally, and everyone's ready.

I pull out a cigarette and light it. There's a dark blue car that rolls up, its bright lights hitting me.

And I smile. "Well, look what the cat dragged in."

His black boots swing around the side of the door. Smoke follows him. He flicks his bud on the ground, running a hand through his hair. He shakes his head, knowing who he is, and knowing that he owns the world.

He's refined, he's cool, he's sharp, and he's back, better than ever.

He sits on the hood of the car, eyes set on me. "What, did you ditch the dweeb already?"

"Be nice," I say, taking a puff. "He's actually not a bad date."

"Oh, gosh, Curtis. You've got me shaking in my boots! I-I better go track him down so he won't sweep you out from under me. Oh my. Where is he?"

I toss my jacket at him, going to the other side of the car. "Shut up."

"Did you hold hands? Awe! What about dancing? Oh tell me all about it!"

"Get in the car, you asshole."

We drive for a long time until we find an empty lot just outside of town. Somewhere where we are completely alone. It's just us and the dark sky filled with bright, glowing stars above us.

The grass is sharp against my bare back. As I lay down, looking up at the sky, I close my eyes and enjoy this moment. I absorb his strong vibe, his smell, his touch. It's a bliss I don't want to leave.

To lay forever as time stands still.

"I think I should have a new name," Dally says, a cigarette dangling in-between his fingers.

His hand is on mine, not hot and sweaty, but warm and smooth. "An alias?"

"Yeah, them things," he says. "Something cool too, like Cowboy."

I snort. I'm not surprised that'd be the first thing he'd come up with. "Cowboy is not a cool alias."

"Yes it is!" he whines.

I shake my head, rolling my eyes back. "No, it's not."

"Admit it, you think it's sexy."

"No I don't."

"Admit it!"

"Ok...it's a little sexy."

I got the call two days after he left. There was some protest about it - primarily from Darry's end. It happened at two in the morning, drunk, slurring every word.

Darry's truck goes pretty fast when it needs to. I got there just three short hours later. Record time and just in time.

I hold his hand tighter. "You know, you never told me why you decided to come back."

He looks at me, fluttering his eyes and acting dramatic. "Because I find you so gosh darn irresistible."

"Yeah, you couldn't live without me. Admit it."

"My car broke down." He shrugs. "I was sorta stuck."

"Bull."

I take the cigarette from him, smoking it and letting the smoke blow off my lips and onto his face.

With the grass against my back, I stare absentmindedly at the blowing embers on the end of the stick. "I'm officially off the rails. Certified crazy. What else is new, though, right?" I laugh, my chest rising up. "Certified crazies...together."

I look at him to find him already staring. "We're all fucking screwed in the head. I heard admitting your crazy is the first step." I smirk, turning back to the stars. "Do you care?"

"Care about what?"

His weight is put upon me. He stares into my eyes, moving my hair away. From here I take a good look at him, the boy who became a man despite his struggle against it. The boy who stopped at nothing. The black sheep of the bunch. The misunderstood. The misguided. The trouble maker.

I touch his cheek, feeling the blood rush through his veins. He's warm to the touch. "Don't move."

His lips press down on me. His hand grabs the back of my head, forcing me upward. He takes a fistful of my hair and he kisses me until I can't breathe.

"Don't leave again," I say softly. "I don't want you to be scared anymore, Dally."

His forehead rests on mine. "Are you scared?"

"No. Not anymore. I don't want you to be either. I don't want you to feel like you have to fucking fight for me...for everyone. I don't want you to." I shut my eyes tightly. "From the moment I saw you, I knew that no one could save you. I knew even then that I would try. I just never knew you saw the same thing in me, and you'd want to save me too."

He sneers, kissing me again. "We're two of a kind, you and me. Psychopath and crazy." He gets up, tugging on my arm to go with him. "C'mon, let's go be mental together."

I walk over to his car, turning the radio up and changing channels until I find a good song.

Dally's looking off the cliff, smoking a fresh cigarette. I take a moment to look at him, his demeanor. The way he's changed.

"Come on, dance with me." I pull on his arm, taking him back over near the car while "In the Still of the Night" plays in the background, his face twisting with his pleasure.

"I don't dance, Curtis."

I straighten him up, locking my hand up with his. "No one's around. Come on! It's my prom. Give me one dance."

He takes my hands, not dancing but standing still. "You didn't take me to the dance...so no dance. I wasn't even asked. Gosh, you know I cried for days over that?"

"You're not allowed on campus, dumb ass. And since when do you do dances?"

He shrugs. "You're such a heart breaker, Curtis. A real heart breaker! You're tearing me up over here!"

"Shut up." I make his shoulders go straight and start to move, motioning for him to follow my steps. "We're dancing."

He moves awkwardly, scowling. "I hate you."

"Me too," I say "Come on, I'll let you even stand on my feet so you'll know what to do."

He moans as he holds my waist, swaying back and forth. "This has got to be the pansyest song in the whole world."

I ignore him, laying my head on his shoulder. His body rocks mine and I almost can't believe this picture. Dallas Winston, dancing with me. I feel young again. Like I'm the luckiest girl in the world.

He must feel really guilty to even think of doing something like this, but I'm not complaining. Not at all.

We don't talk about anything. It's silent except for the music. He doesn't even protest. I think he's lost now too in his mind. He doesn't realize what he's doing. He feels something and he's acting on it and enjoying the moment, just like I am.

I hug his back, not wanting to let go, and regretting doing so in the first place. "I love you," I say softly. "I really do."

And we sway on into the night, oblivious, unaware, and not giving a damn about anything. As long as we have this, we'll be ok. We'll be ok. We're ok. Here we are, forever in bliss...

If only we could stay.

"What, no kiss goodbye?"

I can see her smirking to herself, thinking about it. She slowly turns on her heel, looking over her shoulder. "Not a chance."

I push my hands into my pockets, grinning the same sly smile back at her. She has a type of smile about her. It's sly and mysterious and it says "you don't know me, and you never will."

She learned it from me...and boy does she know how to use it. "Whatever."

"See you tomorrow?"

"We'll see."

She turns away, her heels clicking against the concrete steps that lead up to her porch. The light flicks on and she pulls her jacket around her shoulders. She digs in her bag for her keys, not wanting to make any sudden movements to wake anyone up who might potentially come out for a chat.

Her yellow dress hits the back of her knees as the wind blows against her. Her once perfectly done up hair is now in a messy bun with pieces sticking to her face and back of her neck.

I smell the air, smelling her skin, her sent.

She finds her keys, jingling them in her palm.

"You know," I shout at her, loud enough to make her cringe, "normal kids usually get plastered on their prom and hook up with the hottest, most boss, greaser in all the land."

She rolls her head back, her hair falling more and sticking to her bare back. "Well then I guess I should go steal a bottle of rum and see what Tim Shepard is doing."

I smirk, watching her open up the door to the dark house. "Call me?" she asks.

"Not a chance, babe."

She laughs, waving good bye, and going inside.

I kick a loose rock, my hands still in my pockets. I lean against my car and think.

Rick's already passed out on the sofa when I get in. The TV is static and playing some cartoon.

I go into the kitchen and pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit and watch until I eventually start to doze off too.

"So you're car broke down?" a voice comes from beside me on the couch.

I squint my eyes open, my arms on my stomach and bowl of milk beside me on the coffee table. Rick rolls over on his side and waits for my response. "Yeah."

He sneers, rolling back over. "Good one."

I stretch my arms out, tasting dryness in the back of my throat. I sit up fully and rub my eyes, trying to get enough strength to get back up.

I walk to the kitchen and search through the fridge for something half-way eatable.

Truth be known, Rick's car is my car, and it's running just fine.

There's a spot in Tennessee. I've been there once or twice. There's a bar that'll serve just about anyone and there's a pool table. I made about fifty bucks that night along with drinking the same amount in beers.

It'll wash your sorrows, make you think of your regrets, make you think of what you're doing and what you did.

It makes you realize what's important and what's not.

I've still got a lot to figure out. In the meantime, it's quiet and I like that.

Picking up an apple and a knife, I sit at the kitchen table, and begin to carve when the phone starts to ring.

It's three in the fucking morning.

"Hello?"

Silence. I roll my eyes, almost ready to hang up when an eerie set of laughs come from the other end.

"Hey, if this is some kind of fucking joke, I swear kid I'll-"

"Gotcha!"

The voice I know, and it makes me take a seat, whispering so no one can hear. "Dale."

There's another laugh, one I'll remember for some time. "You tried to take on the world, and you failed, Dally. You failed. Never think it's over. It's only just begun."

And a scream fills the lane as another life will be taken from the small neighborhood in Tulsa. One shot that will break everything that still stands strong. A single shot that will change the story forever.

Hope you got your things together. Hope you are quite prepared to die. Looks like we're in for nasty weather. One eye is taken for an eye. I see earthquakes and lightnin'. I see bad times today. Don't go around tonight, well, it's bound to take your life. There's a bad moon on the rise.

A/N: I cannot believe it's been three books so far. It seems like just yesterday I started LTWYL. I'm almost in tears that I have finished yet another story. Thank you so very much to everyone who has followed this story and who have been around since LTWYL. Much thanks for all the reviews and support. You have no idea how much I love all of you for that.

"Never think it's over. It's only just begun."

Did you really think this was the last?

Be on the lookout for part four of this series! I put a trailer up. Check my profile for updates!

Sneak peak of The Devil Makes Three:

"We can't fight them. We can't beat them. We can never win." He has his face in his hands. He hasn't looked up in ten minutes. I sit across from him, tears streaming down my face. "Say something!"

"Why did you come here?" He lifts his head up. "I warned you. I told you not to come here!"

There's a deep sent of blood around us. The baby's crying in the bed room and there's a ringing that won't go away.

Everyone talks about the end of the world. There's an endless debate of ice verses fire.

Well Satan has risen, and he's not going to be killed by an angel in white.

"We're gonna die here," he says softly. There's nothing to his voice. It's just dull. "You know that don't you?"

This is where our story ends: An old apartment building with molded green wallpaper and a pink tube. A place filled with the stench of blood and filth. A child in the bedroom that'll die with us...because of us. People sitting around us who are animals being hunted. A boy and a girl who are just kids who thought they could defeat the devil with just a little pixie dust.

Dally always knew he'd die in New York. And he always knew it'd be Maggot holding the knife.