The last time Ponyboy had been in his bed, things had been a little different only in theory. Things hadn't been perfect, just looming in the corner of everything else.

The future was much closer than it had been, and even with the alcohol coursing through his body, Dallas can't shake that off. He's not even all that drunk, and his thoughts are going a mile a minute as Ponyboy dozes off, his arm flung over Dallas' chest. He'd rather be looking at his blonde and auburn hair, would rather be copping one last feel before they slept, not staring at the ceiling having to barter with himself what to do.

Being told I love you, even drunk, had made Dallas' teeth go on edge, his fingers clenching so deeply into his palm that it felt like a bite. It wasn't the first time, wasn't the last time Ponyboy had said it. It still was so new, still so foreign every time Ponyboy said it. There was always a warmth to his look, always a want to say it, always the salient fact that he meant those words.

They'd always come cheaply from Sylvia, said with a sneer or a total mocking. From his parents? Forget it. Not a single one of them said it. The first time Mrs. Curtis had said it to him, Dallas had avoided the house for a week out of discomfort.

And his mate says it, always says it in a way that's so affectionate that it leaves Dallas like this, staring at a ceiling, not knowing what to do with it. Not knowing how Ponyboy could say it to him, over and over again, not knowing what he should say or do back, and not knowing what he could stand if the judge's verdict came out to anything other than freedom for Ponyboy.

He'd meant it. He thought jail would crush Johnny under it's boot, kill him from the outset. Ponyboy, though? Ponyboy he accepted when he'd been rushing to Jay Mountain, he could go through jail and be okay. If anyone on their block could survive jail, it was Ponyboy. It had been a comfort then, that if anything got worse, he'd be able to survive it, tougher than Johnny had ever been or could be.

Now, though, it's making Dallas feel antsy and sick the more he thinks about it. Ponyboy could survive, would survive.

He'd change, though. A change that Dallas didn't know he could stand, his mind filling with the image of Ponyboy years down the line, hardened like him or Tim Shepard. A Ponyboy with cold eyes and a sharpness to him that wouldn't fit, a Ponyboy with dreams ripped right out of him.

That scares Dallas the most, now. Whatever change could happen to Ponyboy if that judge made a mistake, what would happen if he survived.

His teeth sink into his cheek. A whoop erupts from beneath, putting his nerves on edge and Dallas tightens his grip on Ponyboy.

There had to be something he could do. Something that could keep him close to Ponyboy if things didn't work out.

The mating mark on his neck throbs, and Dallas sinks his teeth further into his cheek. There are options, more than one. Options that he's never had to look over his shoulder for, always too prideful and too cautious to look at them. And right now, as he closes his eyes, trying to block out the sounds of Buck's beneath, he considers his father's face for the first time in years. Really concentrates on him, on the mole on his cheek, on the angry dark eyes he had that matched Dallas' own, on the black hair that still held a subtle shade of brown, on the discontent on his face if Dallas ever had to approach him for help.

A man who would sooner spit on Dallas, and who would do even worse if he dared showed up with the one thing he'd forbade in his house: a mate. A weakness, one that Dallas couldn't ever bring up.

That was what he'd been holding back, still was holding back from Ponyboy now. Why he wasn't in New York anymore, and why being asked to be a mate had been so huge for him. That was a transgression of the highest order to his father, even if in Tulsa, it was how every greaser cemented their lives over the marriages Socs took.

The only way his father would help, if things came down to the wire, was if Ponyboy wasn't a mate. He'd only do it if Dallas had a husband.

His heart races in his chest. Another whoop and song erupts from below. Dallas shuts his eyes, and pushes away the thought of going to his father.

He wouldn't. He couldn't. He'd find a way to do something more, on his own.

There a heavy arm slung across Ponyboy's shoulders that he knows is neither Johnny or Soda. Soda's never been that much bigger than him, and Johnny always balled up tinier than the arm slung around him. The comforting scent that greets his nose when he inhales tells him that there's only one person who could be tangled up in the bed with him, with legs that are too long, and a nose pressed into his neck, right against his mating mark: Dallas Winston.

It's still dark outside — it was almost November, which made sense — with barely any light seeping through to the room that wasn't the neon signs for beer that had been left on from the night before. Cold air permeates the room, even though the blankets that Dallas had gotten out for them were pretty warm.

The fuzzy haze of sleep keeps Ponyboy half suspended between dreams and wakefulness, his eyes fluttering shut, that heavy arm keeping him there. There's no need to look around, Ponyboy just feeling out his body in small ways: the soft, warm breath of air from Dallas' mouth fans across Ponyboy's skin, his mating mark tingling more than the rest of his neck; the press of Dallas' knee against the top of his calf, able to feel the rough pads from where Dallas must've skinned them as a child; the press of his hip against Ponyboy's back, shifting ever so slightly as he nuzzles deeper into Ponyboy's neck; the sound of their breathing, synced up in the darkness of Dallas' room, matching as quietly as they can.

If he'd been dreaming, Ponyboy can't recall as he sinks into the warmth around him, into Dallas' scent. He still can't pin it down what it is exactly that fills his nose when he's lying in bed or so close to Dallas. Any particular name he tries to come up with fails; it's something earthy, untamed in it that Ponyboy thinks of, let's his imagination spin out with. It's clear that only Dallas has been in this bed, ever, and he sighs, feeling more comfortable here than he'd been anywhere else except maybe the heat hotel where the days and nights had spun out of control into something he didn't think he'd ever have so intensely again — even if he more than wanted it.

All he wants is to stay here, with Dallas. Ponyboy can feel his imagination take over the same way it had out in the lot that night, only he doesn't restrain it at all this time. Jay Mountain materializes again, only bigger than before. This time, Dallas is there with him, grinning with him over a fire, and Ponyboy's hair is as long as it was before. Dallas tells him how tuff he looks with it, and when they kiss, the heat that unfurls in his belly is as good as anything.

There are no cops, no murders, no running away. There's only the ever expanding green of Jay Mountain beneath their feet, a church that had never burned down, and the sunlight pouring out onto them as they kiss and kiss.

His fingers sink into Dallas' hair, and when Dallas presses his mouth to his, Ponyboy thinks that this dream is so sweet it almost hurts. He thinks that his imagination is running wild, until a warp hand pushes down his boxers, and the realization that Dallas is actually kissing him washes over him, right when his hand wraps around Ponyboy's cock.

After that, all he wants is the feel of Dallas' hand around him, and the taste of him in his mouth.

Molly isn't at the courthouse when Ponyboy arrives, which is both disappointing and a relief. Ponyboy made sure to take a shower before he'd gotten dressed — one he took alone despite every temptation to take one with Dallas. He can't even look at Dallas in the face as they walk into the building, fearing his ears might tip red and give away what exactly had happened that morning before the shower.

The one glance he'd had towards Dallas had made his face flush and Dallas' mouth hooking up into a smug look on his face. Not that Ponyboy could blame him — he'd certainly had wanted more than just Dallas' hand jerking him off in bed, wanted more than just a quick few kisses and a promise of Next time, from him. The shower had been so cold, and still Ponyboy had wanted more.

It was all he could to just quiet it down, remind himself of what was at stake as he'd gotten dressed and walked through Buck's and to the car with Dallas.

Waiting for them is Two-Bit in his father's suit, his boots and a look on his face that was harder than normal as they approach. Eugene is speaking to him softly, Two-Bit nodding his head, not a single bit of humor on his face. It's a tautness to him that has Ponyboy leaning closer to Dallas on instinct, worried.

Dallas' hand brushes his, in understanding. He says nothing, moving his hand to nudge Ponyboy in his back to the court room. "I'll be here when you're done, okay?"

Even though he shouldn't, Ponyboy kisses Dallas on the corner of his mouth. If he's reassuring himself, if he's taking strength from Dallas, if he's just doing it out of affection, he doesn't want to think too hard about which.

Dallas' hand twitches, and Ponyboy draws back. "I'll see you later." He waves goodbye, and makes his way to Eugene and Two-Bit. Two-Bit gives him a half smile, Eugene gesturing towards the court room.

The usual feeling of trepidation isn't as strong as it had been as Ponyboy enters. There seemed to be a little less people than usual, with Johnny already at the bench waiting for them. His hair finally seemed to be growing out decently again, in the clothes they'd gotten for him and his eyes curious as Ponyboy comes up to him.

"Where'd you go yesterday?" He asks, voice quiet.

"Stayed with Dally," Ponyboy whispers back, and finds his ears growing hot the moment Johnny puts it together. He ignores the amusement on Johnny's face, and settles in.

Dallas is thinking of some kind of a plan. Two-Bit can see it on his face, with the way he tracks Ponyboy through the court room doors. He always got like this when he was cooking something up, overly focused on something or someone, his face getting that hard look that a lot of hoods cultivated over the years.

Two-Bit isn't sure if he trusts that look on his face right now, or if he should ask a question. The lack of beer in his system was making it hard to pick a choice on that field, as Dallas pinned his dark eyes on Two-Bit. "What's going on with you?"

"I'm taking the stand today," there wasn't any use in beating around the bush. Dallas' jaw clenches in response, Two-Bit going on, "Said Marcia's taking it first and then me."

A cloud of distrust comes over Dallas' face, and Two-Bit knows whoever pisses off Dallas today is going to regret it. Wasn't going to be him though, Dallas jerking his head in a nod. "I'm sure she'll probably back up those Soc friends of hers."

"And I'll back up the kids," Two-Bit affirms, to a wolf like grin on Dallas' face. That element of danger, ferality as his teachers would say, that always has defined Dallas seems to have been getting more and more evident lately.

Two-Bit wonders if that's why Ponyboy's drawn in.

He and Dallas clasp hands. "You going to get some more money again?"

"You know I am. Can't be too careful," Dallas nods. "See you afterwards."

Something in Two-Bit knows that Dallas is up to something else. He doesn't have proof or anything; just knowing a guy like Dallas for as long as he has, there's always the mildest sign of trouble that tingles right at the base of Two-Bit's neck whenever it comes around. Not once has he been wrong, and right now, he doesn't want to get too far into it if he can.

What's at the forefront of his mind, as his mother walks in pulling off her gloves, her red hair pinned up in tight curls, is what's going to happen today. Eugene had told him it'd be his turn going up on the stand, and Two-Bit has never felt more nervous about anything in his life. The judge never showed much of an expression on the stand, minus Randy talking about omega hunting. What she did or didn't think made Two-Bit sick; they couldn't tell if they were winning or losing.

His mother looks exhausted; Two-Bit knows she's been having to do a lot with them, and he wished he could slink off like Dallas did, do more. She brushes her red hair back, voice calm, "You're ready for this?"

"I guess so," Two-Bit tries to smile; it feels like a grimace.

His mother reaches up, tugging him down to press a kiss to his forehead. Her scent washes over him, reminding him of how safe she'd always been, how strong she'd always been for all of them even when he'd caught her crying to Mrs. Curtis in the dead of night after his father left. She's being strong for everyone again, himself included, and Two-Bit knows he's gotta do better for her.

A press of a kiss to her cheek has her smiling, right as the doors open by the bailiff. Two-Bit squares his shoulders, and walks inside of the court room. He tries to put on his best face, giving Ponyboy and Johnny enthusiastic waves as he walks in, putting some jaunt in his step. Johnny still looks spooked, Ponyboy shy in his seat in the suit he has. Two-Bit takes a seat on the bench, and in no time, Darry, Soda, and Steve walk in too.

Darry looks as quietly annoyed as usual at Dallas not being there, even though they both knew damn well part of the reason Dallas wasn't in the court was because of Darry. Soda looks as withdrawn and scared as ever, taking a seat on the other side of Two-Bit.

The Soc families come in, always in suits they'd never worn in the past. Cherry Valance's father walks in with her, her mother absent. Something about him seems familiar as he takes a seat next to her; she clearly got her red hair from him. Bob Sheldon's parents come in next, missing their youngest son this time, followed by Randy and his parents and then a few reporters Two-Bit has seen.

The biggest surprise, though, is when Marcia walks in with her parents. Two-Bit's eyesbrows shoot up seeing her, in a nice dress, her hair curly and a smile on her face when she catches him. She's taking all of this with stride, it appeared, giving him an enthusiastic wink and a wave that he returns.

(He squirms when his mother elbows him in the side.)

The usual opening proceedings are slow, Two-Bit tense, his leg bouncing as he listens. Ponyboy and Johnny don't seem phased from where he is, even though he can't see their faces. Their scents don't change, at least. Not that Two-Bit could detect Johnny's scent much anymore. After the fire, his scent had gone from mostly neutral to almost non-existent; it was as if he wasn't in their house sometimes.

They'd come in together that morning, Johnny slow to wake up, biting at his nails in the car. Any joke Two-Bit could've cracked just fell flat; Johnny was stuck in his head and Two-Bit couldn't blame him.

It's Norm who gets up, calling out Marcia to the stand. Two-Bit watches as she gets up, swears her oath and gets up on the stand. She's just as pretty as she had been months ago, and he watches as Norm walks up to her, saying, "Can you state your name and your relation to the events?"

"I'm Marcia Penelope Thomas," she chirps out, "I'm Cherry's best friend — she's over there, and I was dating Randy when everything happened." She doesn't even look at Randy, who seems to have his eyes glued to the bench in front of him.

It isn't that hard to put two and two together for Two-Bit.

"What can you tell us about the night you went to the theater with your friends?"

Marcia pulls her hair behind her ears. "Well, Randy and Bob were drunk when we met them at the theater, sir. I didn't mind it, I know that they like drinking. Cherry was upset, though; she always hates drinking, and I know she and Bob used to argue about it all the time. I didn't know him that well, since me and Cherry have been friends since the third grade." Marcia glances over at Two-Bit, and he winks at her. She giggles, losing herself for a second, then clears her throat. "Anyway, it was an okay night. Cherry decided she didn't wanna be around the boys drunk, and we both left to sit somewhere else. So we sat on the other side of the movie, and were okay until some greasers showed up. Four of them."

"Are those people in court today?" Shaw asks, cocking his hip a little.

"Three of 'em, sure," Marcia points to the front. "That's Ponyboy and Johnny. And back there is Two-Bit." She points at him, and as people swivel around, Two-Bit can feel his mother grinning right beside him. They both wave, like class clowns they are, and he's sure his mother has uncomfortable butterflies in her stomach surely he does.

The judge doesn't look impressed and Two-Bit feels some of the butterflies in his stomach settle. "We hit it off real good, me and Two-Bit. The other one, Dallas, he isn't here. He's the one who hit on Cherry — she turned him down so he left off in a huff." Marcia shrugs. "They all stayed with us, and then Bob and Randy showed up, drunk and mean. They tried to pick a fight, and Cherry didn't want it to happen so we went home. I gave Two-Bit my number, and we left. I didn't know anything else had happened until I woke up the next morning."

She talks at a fast clip and Two-Bit doesn't know what to feel. Apparently she hadn't given him a fake number, and for a second he wishes he'd have called or something.

Shaw paces for a moment. "Did you explicitly see Bob and Randy drinking, that night? Did they seem to be aggressive?"

Eugene pipes up with, "Objection. The second question is leading."

"Susatined," the judge shoots a sharp glare towards Shaw. "Rephrase, please."

"Did Bob and Randy behave oddly?" Shaw says, clearly reaching for words.

Marcia scrunches up her face. "I saw them drinking, sure. Bob always had a flask on him and Randy used to share it. They smelled like they'd been swimming in a river of moonshine, if you ask me!" A few bits of laughter erupt. "They weren't acting unusual, though, not to me."

Shaw nods. "No further questions." He's almost jaunty as he walks to his seat, and Two-Bit wishes he could snatch that twenty ton hat off of his five ton head.

Eugene stands up, adjusting his burgundy red suit. "When you stated that they weren't acting unusual, can you describe what that is for me? What was usual behavior for them?"

"Well, when they got drunk, they were sort of mean, I guess," Marcia shrugs at the stand and Two-Bit almost cracks a grin. "Bob liked to always pick fights whenever he was drunk. Randy, not always but sometimes he could get a little nasty. We had our worst fight when he got drunk, and I broke up with him for about a week." Marcia drums her fingers on the podium. "So things were normal that night."

"No further questions, thank you," Eugene takes a seat again.

The judge nods. "Ms. Thomas, you are dismissed. I call Keith Matthews to the stand."

Two-Bit breathes heavily out of his nose, stands up and winks to his mother. She looks frightened at him, her face drawn. Nodding, she lets go of his hand and Two-Bit makes his way up to the stand.

Johnny looks as if he's trying to puzzle out what's going on, while Ponyboy seems to be far away, even though his eyes are pinned on him. It's troubling, to say the least, as Two-Bit takes his oath.

The podium is raised up, Two-Bit sitting down with heft. A waft of the judge's perfume tickles at his nose, mixing with the faintly remaining scent from Marcia. He clears his throat, joking, "Sorry it took me a second. I ain't used to anyone, not even my Mama, calling me Keith. Two-Bit's better, if that ain't a problem." He can see the greasers cracking half smiles; his mother's hand however, still flutters at her throat in the back.

"If that's what you want, I can do that," Shaw stands up, coming around in boots that clink against the floor. He's probably never even ridden a horse, Two-Bit thinks. "Can you please state your name and relation to the events?"

Two-Bit nods. "Sure can. I'm Two-Bit, cause I always put in my two bits. Johnny and Ponyboy, right there, are my friends. I met them at the movie theater, while I was kinda soused myself. Had a six pack all to myself, and wanted to see what they were up to. They're both kids, you know, and I wanted to make sure they were having fun with our ol' buddy Dallas. They weren't doing a whole lot when I showed up — Dally had left, and it was just them and the girls. All I did was pay for drinks, watch the movie. We were gonna walk 'em home but their boyfriends showed up, real ornery about them hanging out with greaseballs like us." A sneer a lot like Dallas' own graces his face, glaring at Randy. "They wanted to get into a fight with us. I was gonna give it to 'em, only Cherry told them they'd leave, didn't want any trouble. Which is okay for a Soccy girl, I guess. They got in the car, left, and we walked home."

As he talks, Shaw nods along with him, sucking at his teeth. "During this altercation, did you at any point detect that the boys were drunk?"

"Course. She just said they smelled like they were bathing in moonshine, didn't she?" Two-Bit scoffs, rolling his eyes. "You calling her a liar?" Ponyboy seems to finally come back to himself, him and Johnny both trying not to laugh.

The judge speaks up this time. "Mr. Mathews, please answer the question straight forwardly. No jokes."

"You're ask —" Two-Bit almost finishes the joke, but his mother makes a cutting gesture at his neck, so he forces himself to stop it. "Okay, okay. Yessir, I saw those two drinking from one of his flasks, and they both reeked of alcohol when they tried to pick a fight with us."

"Are you saying, for clarification, that the people who wanted a fight was Bob and Randy?"

"Sure am," Two-Bit's voice is firm, hard as he can get it. "They told me they had more guys in the backseat. You think it's a fair fight between five guys on three? I broke a bottle, handed it to Ponyboy and told 'em to pity the damn backseat. I had a blade, I wasn't scared to use it. You wouldn't neither, if you had to deal with them."

Bear, in the back, nods ferociously. Two-Bit grins at him and Shaw's mustache is moving so fast on his face that Two-Bit has to hold back a crack that if he kept doing it, it'd jump off onto the floor. "You state that you were not sober yourself. Were your friends as sober as you?"

"Neither of them drink," Two-Bit has to try hard to keep from laughing. "I do all the time, but those two? Never. Not once and not that night for sure."

"And in your admitted drunkenness, did you escalate the situation at all?"

Two-Bit frowns. "If you were in a situation where you were with your buddies and five more drove up to try and pick a fight with them, are you gonna de-escalator it?" He knows he's said that word wrong, and doesn't care. "They were all in a car, together, and trying to pick on two kids who didn't even know those girls had boyfriends. I was trying to protect 'em — I wasn't thinking one of them would go ahead and try to kill 'em that night. I had a blade, and a bottle."

Shaw huffs again, and the judge exchanges a glance with her. "That was a yes or no question."

"Judge," Eugene speaks up, his voice a caution, "I don't think —"

"Boy, there isn't anything to object over!" Shaw rounds on him and Two-Bit tenses up. He knows exactly what it means for Shaw to say that to Eugene and it's making his blood boil.

"Five minute recess," the judge barks out, "Both counsels, to my chambers. Now."

Shaw goes red, his facial expression one of someone clearly caught out doing something he shouldn't have. Eugene keeps his cool, and both of them move warily around each other and to the back of the court. Two-Bit remains where he is, not sure how any of this will pan out as the door closes with a sharp snap.

In the five minutes it takes for the judge to speak to both lawyers, Two-Bit doesn't move from the box. Just sits there nervously in the courtroom, looking at everyone there, from his mother who looks livid on Eugene's behalf to Ponyboy and Johnny who converse in quiet whispers. Bear is talking to Darry and Soda looks like he wants to bolt.

Two-Bit doesn't look at the Soc side of the court room. He's not sure he cares to, unless it's Marcia. All he wants is to leave here, get a drink and make sure Johnny isn't chewing his nails down to nothing. Maybe go find Marcia after all of this was over, see if they could actually have a real date.

It's a tense five minutes, and when the judge sweeps back in the chamber, Shaw looks embarrassed while Eugene's face is hard to read. He sits down at the bench with Ponyboy and Johnny, with Judge Cross sitting down heavily. Her voice booms over the court, "As I have just reminded counsel, there are particular rules when you are in a court of law. Anyone who does not obey them, from here on out, will be given charges of contempt. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am," echoes through the chamber.

"Mr. Hall, you may proceed," Judge Cross says sharply.

Two-Bit straightens up, and Eugene approaches him with that similar thoughtfulness he's seen on the daily now. His hair is brushed in waves against his scalp, and he starts off with, "That night, you stated that you didn't have an indication that things would go as far as they did. Has that always been your experience when you've had these skirmishes with other 'Soc' kids, as you say?"

"Yeah. They'll chase you, beat you up, all that kinda stuff. Having someone chase after someone the way they did, hours later? I've never heard of that sh– kind of thing before," Two-Bit says. "I thought they'd just see that Ponyboy and Johnny weren't into their girls like that, and leave it alone."

Eugene nods. "You stated that you had a switchblade and a bottle there, correct?"

"Yessir."

"Why did you have those that night? Do you always have those on you?"

"I don't know anyone who's a greaser who doesn't, except those two," Two-Bit shrugs. "I carry 'em so we don't have to fight or if we do, I'm not just left with skin and fists."

"Would you say that these are only meant for self defense, then?"

"Yessir. I'm not taking them out to impress nobody," Two-Bit laughs. "I don't pick on kids or nothing."

Eugene gives him a warm look. "Thank you, Mr. Mathews. No further questions at this time. I believe we've hit our limit for today, Judge Cross."

Judge Cross nods. "Thank you for remembering the decorum of this court. As we've now reached Friday, please be aware that I expect everyone to remain on their best behavior coming into the weekend and to Monday. Everyone except counsel, you are dismissed."

Two-Bit fights the urge to slump. He was going to have to finish this on Monday. Fuck.

At least the bonfire was an option.