(Ponyboy's POV)

As soon as Dally and I went out onto the porch, he pulled out a pack of smokes and offered me one. I accepted it, and before I could even ask, he provided the light. We leaned against the railing and smoked for a minute in silence before he finally spoke up.

"I was thinking about apologizing for hittin' you," Dally said. His was mumbling a little bit, and I figured his swollen jaw had something to do with it. Darry must've got him good.

I waited for him to say something else, but he didn't. "Just thinkin' about it?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow and making my head hurt more.

Dally looked sideways at me. "You were askin' for it, kid."

I puffed out some smoke before I replied slowly. "Yeah, I guess I was."

He looked at me with raised eyebrows. I didn't realize he was waiting for me to say anything, but after a beat, he grumbled. "Damn, you had so much fight in you earlier… where did it go?"

"I think you knocked it out of me," I muttered, earning a chuckle from Dally.

"I guess I did," he said with a grin on his face as he looked out to the street, taking a long drag on his cigarette. "Don't worry, your big brother paid me back tenfold. He didn't pull his punches like I did to you."

That surprised me. "You call this pulling your punches?" I asked, pointed to my still-throbbing eye.

"You don't really think I hit you as hard as I could, do you?" Dally asked incredulously, giving me a smirk. "C'mon kid. If I wanted to, I could've knocked you out or sent you straight to the hospital."

I was about to say something, but the more I thought about it, the more I believed him. Dally grew up in New York, spent more time in the cooler than anyone else I knew, and he fought Tim Shepard on a regular basis; the fact that I stayed conscious and left mostly under my own power meant that he probably didn't actually want to pummel me, I just made him mad enough to throw a couple punches. Still, the fact he hurt me was shocking because he'd never done that to me before, and it was even more shocking that he showed up at my house to talk afterwards.

"Look, I do feel kinda bad for beating on you, but you were runnin' your mouth and you said some stupid things," Dally said. That's the closest thing to an apology I'll ever get from Dally.

I gave him a look, trying to act like I did earlier that day: confident and tough. "Yeah? What did I say that was so stupid?"

Dally's shock made it seem like he thought I was crazy. "Are you serious, kid? You said I was embarrassed to be around Johnny or that I hated him. You should've known that was a load of bullshit. Then you called me a damn coward. If there's one thing I ain't, it's a coward."

"If you're not scared, then why are you staying away from us? Especially Johnny." I said, my tone suddenly soft. "What's goin' on with you, Dal?"

He looked at me with a hard expression, but after a few seconds, he sighed and turned to look away. "I'm not used to this is all."

"None of us are," I said. "Johnny being in a wheelchair is-"

"Not that," Dally spat, interrupting me. "I'm not used to feeling like this… feeling guilty."

Guilty? Dallas Winston feels guilty about something? Dally was a tough hood, and I had never known him to feel guilty or regret anything.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, genuinely confused.

He took another drag of his cigarette as I stayed silent, waiting anxiously for his answer. "Whose fault do you think it is that Johnny's stuck in that chair, huh?" Dally questioned.

The pain was so quick and intense, it felt like I got shocked or something. I had been feeling responsible for everything that happened once Johnny and I ran into those Socs in the park the night Bob Sheldon died, and I had been trying to shove those feelings down ever since.

I let out a shaky breath. "Mine."

Dally's head snapped up and he stared at me. "Shut up kid, it ain't your fault. It's all on me." I opened my mouth to reply, but he didn't let me. "When you kids showed up at Buck's that night, I should've just brought you to your place right then and there. I could've prevented the fire from happening, and Johnny would still be walking."

Slowly, things were starting to make sense. "So you're not mad or embarrassed being around Johnny, you just feel like it's your fault he can't walk?"

"Yeah," Dally said plainly as he puffed out some smoke. "Seeing him in that chair just reminds me that I'm the one that put him there." He took another drag, then a different look crossed his face. "Same thing happens when I see you sometimes."

That surprised me. "Me? Why?"

He lazily pointed at the top of my head. "You had tuff hair before going to that church." I had gotten so used to it, that I forgot about my bleached hair. "Between your hair and Johnny's chair… I can't hardly stand being in the same room."

"Because we remind you of Windrixville," I said, completing the thought that Dally didn't have to finish.

He nodded slightly before looking out to the street again. "I was trying to look out for you two, and look what happened," Dally said bitterly.

Then something in the back of my mind shot to the front. "So when you yelled and Two-Bit for wrestling with me and Johnny, or Steve for having me in a headlock, that was because you're still lookin' out for us?"

He shrugged. "I guess." His reply sounded lackluster, but I knew I was right. Dally was still protecting me and Johnny, even if it happened to be from our own friends.

I suddenly felt awful for Dally. Everyone always he assumed he was an emotionless hood and only cared about Johnny, but not only had he practically said he cared about me too, but it was obvious that he had become accustomed to shoving his feelings down to the point people assumed he just didn't have them. Just like Darry.

"I don't blame you for what happened Dally, and Johnny doesn't either," I said.

He scoffed. "I must've hit you harder than I thought for your brain to not work right."

I wanted to be mad at him for saying that, and for distancing himself from Johnny out of all people, but I couldn't be angry with him, not after I learned what he was dealing with. I was sort of an expert with inner turmoil, so I could empathize with him.

"It's true, Dal. I don't think Johnny could ever be mad at you, and the gang just wants you to go back to how you were before," I said honestly. "Although Darry would probably appreciate it if you stayed out of trouble."

Dally grinned a little. "I don't expect that to happen any time soon."

We both took another drag before I spoke again. "You should talk to Johnny. Tell him everything you just told me."

Surprisingly, he nodded. "Yeah. I can't have him thinkin' something's wrong with him or that I don't wanna see him. Forget the chair man, he's still Johnnycakes."

I grinned a little. Dally isn't such a bad guy. I straightened up, stubbed my barely-smoked cigarette, then started to move towards the door. "Stay out here, I'll get him."

"You think your brothers are gonna let me stay here for another minute?" Dally said with a smirk. "Pretty sure they're both ready to drag me across the lawn and throw me into the street."

"I'll tell them it's alright," I said, surprising myself that I sounded so sure that my older brothers would listen to me. "As long as you don't start swinging, you should be fine."

I reached towards the door, but before I could open it, Dally's voice drew my attention again. "Ponyboy." I turned around to look at him, and for the first time, the tough-guy expression he wore was almost gone. "Thanks kid."

I tried to keep the surprise off of my face as I gave him a small nod and walked into the house.

"Everything okay, kiddo?" Darry asked before the door even shut. He had been sitting in his recliner, but he shot up to his feet the moment I walked in.

"Yeah," I said simply, not wanting to spill all of Dally's insecurities to everyone. Then I locked eyes with Johnny, who was staring at me. "You should go talk to him."

Johnny raised his eyebrows. He was probably wondering what was going on since Dally had be absent so much and now, out of the blue, I said that they should talk. Johnny must've trusted me because he started to wheel himself to the door without question. I held the door open for him, and after I gently shut it, Soda appeared at my side, gripping my shoulders and forcing me to look at him.

"He didn't hit you again, did he?" Soda asked. If I even hesitated to respond, I was sure Soda would attack Dally right then and there.

"No, he didn't." I laughed a little at him and his protectiveness. "Relax Soda, I'm fine."

"What'd he want?" Steve said. "Don't tell me he actually said he was sorry for hittin' you. There's no way."

I shrugged and gave him a smirk. "Not in those words exactly, but we're alright."

Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise, while Two-Bit pretended to be offended as he slapped a hand onto his own chest. "Don't I deserve an apology from ol' Dal?"

"He didn't leave a mark on you," Darry said with some anger in his voice.

Soda started leading me to the couch, but as we walked, I felt dizzy again and my headache was back in full force, so I figured staying in a room with a bunch of loud greasers wasn't the best idea. "I'm actually gonna go lie down," I said, pulling away from Soda and walking to my room.

"You alright, Pone?" Darry asked. His previously-angry voice was suddenly filled with concern. I can't believe I ever thought he didn't love me.

"I'm fine. Head just feels a little funny," I said lightly, hoping my brothers didn't change their minds about letting Dally stick around.

Soda looked at me like he expected me to faint or something, but Darry seemed a little more relaxed. "Okay kiddo, get some rest," Darry said. The worry had lessened, but it was still there in his voice and eyes.

I gave him a reassuring grin before I headed to my room, hoping that when I woke up, my head wasn't pounding and everything would be okay.

This chapter was tricky to write because of Dally's personality and I tried not to deviate from his character too much. I hope this chapter lived up to everyone's expectations. Please let me know what you think!