For The Love of a Greaser

Chapter 30

Wish I Had A Bullet

As the hour passed, I started to get worried, wondering if something had gone wrong. All that I could do was pray that they were okay, pacing back and forth through the living room.

"Come on," I baited, drawing in an intake of breath.

It was then that I heard that the gate outside, quickly making my way over to the window and looking out the blinds.

"Oh my..." I felt my breath catch in my throat, quickly unlocking the door and throwing it open.

They all stood there, bruised and battered. Steve was the worst though, looking as if his lip had been spilt open. Not busted like Darry's, but actually split open. He was also limping up the stairs, his face twitching with pain.

"My God..." I whispered, moving out of the way to let them inside.

Darry gave me a nervous grin as he went over and sat down in his chair, resting his back.

I just shook my head though as I stood there, running a hand through my hair. This was exactly what I didn't want happening.

"All of you, just...just sit down," I sighed, walking off to grab the first-aid kit, along with a bowl full of water and a couple rags.

I couldn't believe I'd be fixing everyone up.

When I walked back into the living room, I found Steve laying there on the couch, Soda and Two-Bit merely sitting on the floor. Soda was facing Steve, while Two-Bit was leaned up against the wall by the TV with a pillow behind his back.

"You guys look like hell," I pointed out.

"Feel like hell," Two-Bit groaned, rolling his shoulders.

"Here," I sighed, handing him a beer.

"Thanks babe," he grinned, eagerly taking it from my hand and taking a swig.

I just shook my head, before turning to Darry. He just sat there flexing his hand, occasionally pressing his tongue against the inside corner of his mouth below his lip.

"You're lucky that you look better off than Steve," I told him, kneeling down to examine his hand. "How in the world did you manage to tear your hand up so bad?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

It looked like someone had taken a cheese grater to the top of his hand, leaving it nice and bloodied.

"Paul has sharp teeth," he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh, great, no wonder."

"Definitely made me feel better though," he mused, making me curious.

"Why?"

"Let's just say he needs to learn some manners when it comes to talking about women," he told me, making me pale.

I had a pretty good idea what that meant and it made me sick to my stomach.

"Bastard," I muttered, before taking his face in my hands and looking him over.

I touched his lip tentatively, being careful of the amount of pressure. He wince slightly, but that was about it.

"I'm just glad that you're okay," I whispered, pressing my lips lightly to his.

I then pulled back, wetting the rag and cleaning his hand of the blood. It took me a couple minutes to clean it up though because it kept bleeding, leaving me pressing the rag against his hand. After it finally stopped bleeding freely, I grabbed a cotton ball, soaking it with peroxide. I then pressed it to his hand, dabbing at it lightly, watching as his hand twitched.

"I'll take care of this, you take a look at him," Darry said, gesturing toward Steve.

"Alright," I nodded, standing up and moving over toward the couch.

Steve just continued to lay there, one of his eyes trying to swell shut while he bleed freely from his nose and lip.

"Man, you look like crap," I said, sitting down next to him.

He tried to smile, but it didn't do him much good.

"That reminds me, where's Ponyboy?" I asked, looking around at everyone.

"I think Dally took him to the hospital," Darry said, cleaning his hand up.

I sighed at this, trying not to think about it as I took Steve's face in my hands, gently turning his head to the side. He looked terrible and that was putting it nicely.

"I swear, if I ever catch you guys doing something like this again, I'm gonna kick all your heads in," I said pointedly.

"Even Darry?" Soda asked, chancing a glance over at Darry.

"Even Darry," I nodded, staring over at the man just to get my point across.

"Man, I'd like to see that one?" Steve chuckled, wincing afterward.

"Stay still," I told him, taking the other rag and wiping his face.

He groaned as I did this, trying to pull away. I wouldn't let him though, keeping him where he was.

"Just to let you know, you're probably going to need a couple stitches," I said, being careful with his lip.

"I think it makes me look tough," he mumbled.

"It makes you look a mess," I said flatly.

"What do you think Soda, you think it makes me look tough?" Steve asked, leaning his head back as he closed his eyes.

"I think it makes you look different," Soda replied.

"What do ya mean by different?"

"Ya got a hole in your mouth," Soda told him, touching his touch after a moment.

"Leave it alone Soda. If you're gonna mess with it, go get some ice," I told him, not wanting him to irritate his still swelling cheek. "In fact, I think that all of you need ice. Especially, you Steve," I said, lifting his chin up after a moment to take one last look.

I'd gotten all the blood off his face, but he was still pretty bruised up, his eye still trying to swell closed. If something wasn't done soon, then he likely wouldn't be able to see out of his left eye for a while.

"Okay, I'm gonna grab some ice, so stay put," I said, standing up from the couch and walking into the kitchen.

I opened up the freezer and pulled out one of the ice trays, dumping half of it into one of the dish towels. I then walked back into the living room and placed it on top of his eye, telling him to hold it there.

"Alright, your turn Soda," I said, sitting down in front of him.

Just like I'd done for the other two, I took hold of his face, holding it gently in my hands. He didn't look too bad, but he still had a cut above his eye. By the time that I was done with him, he was cleaned up and had a butterfly stitch above his eye. It was then that I turned toward Two-Bit, crawling over to sit in front of him. He looked tired and surprisingly enough, he hadn't really touched his beer much.

"You okay Two-Bit?" I asked, checking him over.

The corner of his lip was busted up a bit and he had a cut below his left eye. Whoever hit him was probably wearing a ring and that was probably why it looked so bad.

"Man, you sure know how to take punches," I said, shaking my head.

I then placed a cotton swab against his cheek, cleaning it as gently as possible. He just sat there, putting up with it as I rubbed the cut, wincing.

"Don't you know it babe," he chuckled.

"Just hush and lay down," I told him, standing back up and walking into the kitchen again.

Like last time, I went over to the freezer, pulling out a couple ice packs. I then walked back into the living room and tossed one in Two-Bit's lap.

"Put that on your hand," I told him, all too aware of the pain it was causing him. "And you, take off your shirt," I said, addressing Steve.

He looked ready to say something, but closed his mouth, wincing as he pulled his shirt off. He looked just as terrible.

"How did I know," I muttered.

The rest of his body was just as busted up as his face.

"I hope you don't plan on going back to work for a few days?" I asked, sitting back down beside him.

He merely grumbled something under his breath, but I just ignored it, helping him roll over on his stomach. He didn't like this too much, but he put up with it, allowing me to examine him further. He had welts all over the place, each one as painful as the next. He masked it pretty well though, only flinching every now and then when I pressed on one of them.

"Easy," he groaned, burying his head in one of the pillows.

"I am being easy," I told him, flicking him in the back of the head lightly.

I can't guarantee you that he wanted to possibly knock me off of the couch right now for bugging him, but he didn't, so I just continued to sit there trying my best to help him. The best that I could do, was numb the areas that were causing him pain, taking down the swelling as much as possible. At least then, he wouldn't be in as much pain when laying around.

A few minutes later, the front door opened and Ponyboy stepped in, a shaken look on his face.

"Where ya been?" Darry asked, looking over at Ponyboy.

Ponyboy didn't say anything though, slowly closing the door behind him.

"Ponyboy?" I called out, my voice careful and gentle.

He glanced over at me, mouth twitching as though trying to find his words. Something was bothering him and that was obvious.

"Pony, what's wrong?" Darry asked, getting up from his chair to stand in front of him.

"Johnny, I don't know," he swallowed, walking over toward the dining room. "He's not doin so good," he said.

"Ponyboy, what happened?" I asked, getting up as well, making my way over to him.

He stared at me with scared eyes, hand shaking a bit. I placed a hand on his shoulder.

"His...his heart stopped," he choked out.

My eyes went wide, watering a bit as I stood there. The other were just as speechless.

"They, they had to restart it," he continued, shaken. "They kept tryin, they finally did it, but Dally ran off," he told me. "I...I don't know what he's gonna do, he was really upset."

I ran a hand through my hair, moving over to the door. I pressed my forehead against it, feeling the tightness in my chest.

"Do you have any idea where he might have gone?" I asked, looking back over at him.

"I don't know, maybe the park?" he shrugged. "He's got his gun though."

"Damn it, Winston," I hissed.

If he was out of control, he'd probably do something stupid. I knew I had to do something then and there, quickly making up my mind, before running out of the house. I barely even heard the sound of Darry's voice as he yelled for me, stopping at the porch. I didn't even look back, continuing down the street toward the park. I swear, if he did something stupid, then I'd kick his narrow behind straight into next week.

T

"Dally?" I called, looking around.

I didn't see anything as I walked further into the park.

"Dally?" I called again.

It was then that I heard something, a sharp intake of breath. I looked around, listening for it again. I followed it to one of the trees, finding him sitting there on the ground behind one of them, his head grasped in his hands.

"Dally?" I whispered, carefully kneeling down beside him.

I watched as he stiffened, hands gripping his hair. He was obviously shaken, possibly more than Ponyboy. Dally never let anything out, always staying strong, but even someone like Dally could only handle so much.

"Dally, look at me," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

It took a moment, but he finally looked at me, mouth twitching as he tried to blink away tears. Lord knows, I never expected Dallas Winston of all people to end up like this, but no one was perfect.

"I can't take it," he choked out, his hand grabbing the grass and curling around it, before pulling it out.

He was an absolute wreck.

"Dal, it's gonna be alright," I told him.

"No it's not," he yelled, standing up, his back now facing away from me. "Man, I wish I had a bullet," he mumbled.

Now, it was my turn to go off.

"Now you hold it right there Winston!" I yelled, eyes watering.

He turned to look at me, almost unsure.

"So, what, you just wanna through your whole life away? Huh! Is that what you wanna do? Just put the gun to your head and pull the trigger!" I yelled.

He was silent as he stood there, staring down at me.

"It'd be so easy just to pull the trigger, end it all, just because of all of this! You really think that would be the end of it?" I asked, hands shaking at my sides. "Don't you think I might of thought the same thing at one point?" I pressed. "Just to give up on things when they got hard!"

I could feel tears falling as I stood there, continuing to yell at him.

"Yeah, it'd be so easy just to give up. What do you think the rest of us would do though, huh? Did you ever ask yourself that one?"

"What are you on about?" he asked quietly.

"You think you have it hard? Trying to stay strong all the time. Well, what about me, huh, ever think to wonder about that? Think about the crap I've been through? I don't need another death on my hands!" I cried.

"The hell do you care for anyway?" he asked.

"Because I can see the good in you! You have promise, you have a future," I said, feeling myself shake. "You're my friend, part of my family," I blurted out.

At the word family, he seemed to freeze, not sure what to make of it

"What did you say?" he asked, licking the edge of his lip.

"You heard me, family," I said. "Don't you think I'd be hurting if I lost part of my family? You guys are the best thing to ever happen to me," I told him, trying to wipe my eyes. "There a good chance that I might be dead right now if it weren't for you Dallas, and that's sayin somethin."

"Look, Abby," he started.

"No, you look Dal. You're a part of my life now and I don't wanna lose that, so don't you even think for a minute that your life isn't worth a damn," I told him. "If you do, you come to me, you understand?"

He stood there for a moment, biting his bottom lip, before finally speaking.

"Yeah..." he whispered, walking toward me.

He wrapped an arm me, placing his chin on top of my head. I just sniffed, grabbing hold of part of his jacket, part of my hand brushing his bare chest. The idiot didn't even have a shirt on, just the pants I gave him and his jacket, that's it.

"I understand," he sighed.

Yay! Chapter 30. So, what did you think, huh? I guess Abigail is no stranger to the feelings that Dallas held. Anyway, don't forget to REVIEW and MESSAGE me with your thoughts, opinions, ideas, and feelings on this chapter/story. I LOVE hearing FEEDBACK because it helps me write. REally, it does. Also as promise, neither Dally or Johnny died.