All right. This is an unauthorized chapter, but hey. It came, I wrote, here we are. Thanks to Zickachik who got this done in like a day around her paper and stressed to the nines! I wish I had her tenacity since I forgot to even post it for two days...

Disclaimer: The usual.

On with the shoe!

Finn’s POV

It was later on in the day when Dallas Winston chose to grace us with his presence. I’d looked up from my book and Tatton had squinted at him over his papers like he was a bug to be categorized.

“Have you ever been through the New York Criminal Courts system?” he asked and Dallas had his turn to blink.

“Long time ago. What’s it to ya?” Dallas’ tone was defensive.

“Never mind then.” Tatton went back to his papers and Dallas still looked defensive.

“Mike went to work, Dally,” I offered. “Are you hungry? I can fix you something.”

Dallas only nodded and Tatton snorted, sounding amused. He never had understood the compulsion I had when it came to cooking when things were crazy. It was a form of control or something. I found it to just be soothing to have my hands busy when there was a lot to think on.

Dallas slumped down at the table and I pulled out a frying pan from the stack I had. Dallas was a big fan of eggs with bacon and fried potatoes. It just so happened that I had been saving a bowl of left-over potatoes to fry up when he came calling. I had the feeling he would need to talk to someone. I figured I was as good a someone as anyone else, and there was that useless issue. I figured this would get me an hour of usefulness under my belt. That or thirty seconds, depending on how open Dallas was feeling right then.

“I was hoping you would stop by,” I offered once everything was pulled out, cracked, placed, and plopped in a pan.

“I had a lot of thinking to do,” Dallas sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“I can imagine. This week has been full of things to think on.”

He let out a small sigh that agreed with my statement completely. I turned back to the stove and flipped the bacon, stirred the potatoes around and prodded the eggs. Dallas liked his eggs sunny side up with pepper and as much ketchup he could get on them. I wasn’t so good at cooking the egg so it was mostly raw in the middle and crispy on the ends, even after all this practice. It seemed like a long time had passed before Dallas came up with something to say.

“I went to see my Pop yesterday.”

“How did that go?” I asked, sliding the eggs carefully onto the waiting plate.

“He told me he didn’t give a damn. He said kids ruined lives and I was just getting to it earlier than most. The asshole drunk acted like he didn’t even care.”

“You made him a grandfather. He cares,” I offered, fishing bacon out of the pan.

“You’ve never met my old man. He doesn’t give a hang about me. I could be dead in a ditch somewhere and he’d probably just say ‘good riddance’ to whatever fuzz dupe showed up to tell him,” Dallas huffed.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything. Dallas was right – I didn’t know his father and to sympathize would make me look false, like I was trying to be someone I wasn’t just to make him feel better.

So I cooked and finally had the plate together, reaching for a glass to get him some orange juice.

“I don’t know what to do.”

I turned from the fridge and saw Dallas hunched over his hands, glaring at them like they would give him an answer.

“I don’t want this,” he continued. “I don’t want to be my father.”

I set down the juice so I could lean on the counter separating the cooking area from the dining area via a pony wall. “No one wants to be their parents. Well, no one who ends up in this neighborhood, anyway. You’re aware of that, so you can make it different.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

I straightened up again, walking around so I could stand in front of him. He looked a lot smaller and younger than the already-young seventeen he was. I’d had my life jolted at such a young age and I could sympathize with him. Mike had probably told him about why we left New York and that was probably the only reason he was talking to me now. That was probably why I came into his personal space and set a hand on his wild, white-blond hair. He didn’t resist when I rested his cheek on my stomach and ran the hand not holding him through his hair. He even went as far as to rest a hand on the side of my leg, like that would give him something to hold onto in a spinning world. It was a rare move from the man who had never once come to me. I’d had every one of the boys sitting where he was, sharing what was hurting them, even Steve, but Dallas had always seemed far too detached to have anything hurt him. It just went to show how deceiving looks could be.

“What don’t you know?” I asked and he gripped my jeans a little tighter.

“It’ll sound stupid, because it is stupid,” he huffed and I wondered if there was an inner Dallas who was five. “I want to run. I want to run away from all of this, but I have nowhere to go anymore.”

“Sometimes we all want that,” I offered.

“Yeah, but you did it. You and Mike, both, even with nowhere to go. I feel like a damn coward because that is keeping me here.”

“You are not a coward,” I told him firmly. “It takes a much bigger man to face all this than to run. It takes a much bigger man to be a better person than anyone cuts him out to be.”

He didn’t say anything to agree or disagree with that.

“And no matter what your dad says, there are people here who give a hang about you,” I told him in what I hoped was a more soothing tone.

“Like Sevrin? Mike? The Fuzz?” He snorted humorously. “They all want something.”

“No. Like me and Johnny,” I answered. “I have a soft spot for tough guys and you are definitely his hero.”

“Hero?” Dallas sounded like he was awed, but that could have been because of his nose being buried in my t-shirt.

“Yeah.” I smiled. “You’re all he talks about some days.”

“I know where they are,” he said after another minute of silence.

“I thought you might,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral. “Let me get your food before we go talking about the boys.”

I was willing to bet that if Dallas’ stomach wasn’t growling, he would have held on a little longer.

“I thought you’d throw it at me after I said that,” Dallas stated once his food was in front of him.

“I thought about it, but I would have to clean it up,” I pointed out and he nodded. “So, you know where the boys are?”

“If they got to where I sent ‘em, then yeah,” he replied. “I’m going to go see ‘em tomorrow.”

“But not to bring them home, am I right?” I asked, aware of how cool my own voice sounded.

“For what? A trial or a hanging?” He asked and I shook my head. “No one in this town gives a hang about a greaser. They’ll just chew ‘em up and spit ‘em into the reformatory or even jail. I won’t see those three in jail.”

“You should give us a little more credit. That man in there is my brother and he’s a lawyer. He’s not willing to lose a case, let alone a brother, and he’s good at what he does.”

“A New York lawyer?” Dallas asked, frowning.

“Yeah. The city seems to pull our family in if it has the chance.” I shrugged. “Why? Did he ever throw you in lock up?”

“No,” Dallas replied, not saying anything else about it. He stood once his plate was clean and set his plate in the sink, something he never did. “I’m going. Anything you want me to tell the kids?”

I stood, having prepared a list of things in my head. “I have some money I want you to give them. They might need it.”

“I doubt it. Soda already gave me half his paycheck for them.” He shrugged and I wasn’t surprised Soda knew.

“A few more dollars won’t hurt. And I bet it gets cold wherever they are.”

“Yeah.”

I crossed the room to where I’d left my coat and pulled out at least ten dollar’s worth – I didn’t bother to count it – before popping into the laundry room and picking out one of the sweaters we were keeping from winters back home where there could be minus forty and snow sometimes. Aries was small and got cold easily. I picked up a couple old blankets as well, thinking of Pony and Johnny in the middle of the night. I handed all of it to Dallas.

“You tell Aries he isn’t useless, ok?” I told Dallas and he nodded. “And then you tell all three of them that we miss them and there’ll be a hot meal for whenever they do come home.”

“They’re fine,” Dallas assured me, pulling open the back door. “In this mess, they’re the last ones I’m worried about.”

I wished I had his confidence. But instead, I watched him go, wishing I had more control in this whole mixed up adventure.

“I remember him.”

I glanced over my shoulder at my brother and watched as he leaned thoughtfully in the doorway to the kitchen.

“So you have met.”

“Briefly,” he offered. “Seven years ago, I was busy working as a research intern for the DA while I finished up my schooling. There was this little white-haired kid in the hall. He was cuffed to a bench, tears streaming down his face, every person in the hallway ignoring him.”

“What did you do?” I asked and he shrugged.

“I wet back to work. It was Tell he would remember. He was meeting me for lunch and walked past the kid on the way to where I’d been shoved into an office. You know Tell. Two minutes later, the kid had a cup of water and a handkerchief and Tell was sitting on the bench beside him, giving me the dirtiest looks possible.”

“What happened to him?” I asked and Tatton frowned.

“The Juvenile building was full and the worker there assigned to him was at her wit’s end. So they sent him up to adult corrections. I don’t know where he ended up, but it was prison. He was ten at the most, eight at the youngest.”

“That is the most rotten thing I have ever heard,” I told him. “Who does that to a ten-year-old kid?”

“The City of New York.”

Well, that was another scratch against the place.

“I’m a lawyer to try and fix things like that,” Tatton assured me and I believed him. “But seeing him in here with you proves that survival is possible in the most amazing and horrible situations.”

I glanced at my brother and nodded. Yeah, he had a point there.

“And if it had been Aries cuffed to the bench?” I asked.

“I would have moved heaven and earth to make sure that’s as scared as he got,” Tatton paused. “And if there was nothing I could do, he would have survived. If there is nothing I can do, he’ll survive now, too.”

I nodded again, hoping to hell he was right.

Mike’s POV

“So the doohickey is connected to the thingamabob which is attached to the whatchamacallit that does the thing to the thing?”

I glanced up from where I was working on a car across the garage and frowned. Currently, Soda was trying to tell West all about engines. So far, it was a losing battle.

“Yeah, basically,” Soda replied with a frown. “But you should really try and remember what the parts are called.”

“I gave them names.” West shrugged.

“Yes, but no mechanic would know what you were talking about,” Soda explained patiently.

“Well, then they wouldn’t be very good mechanics,” West replied, causing Soda to blink.

Finn had made sure to explain to everyone that West was a boxer and probably had brain damage from all the hits he took. I doubted that was the case because I remembered him from before he even found out he was good at hitting people and he hadn’t changed much. And as much as I hated to admit it, he did sometimes manage to come up with something astoundingly smart when he needed to. I think he just got his jollies out of acting like a moron. Either that, or his mother dropped him on his head a few dozen times growing up.

“Well, I suppose not,” Soda reasoned, looking confused himself.

“West, give it a rest, will ya?” I called, tightening a lug nut, ignoring the aches I still felt.

“Well, you heard the man – break time!” West declared, thumping Soda on the back.

“I suppose we could have a break.” Soda shrugged. “I’m going to head into the office.”

“Have fun with that. I’m going to go and talk with that grumpy guy some more.” West thumbed towards where Starkey was sitting out front like he did everyday before he was on shift.

Amazingly, the man had taken an instant liking to West. I had no doubt the pair of them were going to sit there and talk about anything they thought of for the next hour or so. It was about time. Maybe now Soda and I could get something resembling work done without a moron in the middle. I turned back to the new set of tires I was busy putting on the ’64 Chevy I’d been busy with all day. I barely saw Soda as he moved closer so he could look over my shoulder.

“You ok?” He asked and I sighed.

“Yeah. I just never get anything done with a Lupin or two in my hair,” I replied.

“Why did you agree to bring West to work then?” Soda leaned over and wiped a smear of grease off the new hubcaps.

“And leave him with only Tatton for entertainment?” I snorted. “One of them would be dead by dinner, the other in cuffs, and Layne half-bald from yanking her hair out.”

“Man, I couldn’t stand it if Darry and Pony were like that,” Soda sighed.

“I thought they were?”

Soda glanced at me and I shrugged. I didn’t know how he didn’t see it. Darry and Pony put Soda in the middle when they fought. It wasn’t often that they went at it, but I’d been through dinners where they were both just picking at each other, leaving Soda to try and make peace. In a way, Layne was doing something similar between Tatton and West at the moment, but she sure as hell would let them go at it if she was sick enough of it.

Soda didn’t say anything and I was willing to let it drop. As it was, I didn’t have to. A moment later, West was walking into the garage nearly touching shoulders with Two-Bit. Darry and Steve were following close behind. I straightened up, feeling stiff, and waited.

“You'll never believe what happened to Two-Bit here on his way home from school today,” West grinned.

“What happened?” Soda asked, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to.

“I got jumped,” Two-Bit offered and West grinned widely.

“So he breaks a bottle and holds off three of those Socks,” West supplied.

“Socs,” Two-Bit corrected. “And there were four.”

West shrugged and Soda gaped. This worried me. Two-Bit was a good fighter and could hold his own. What if it had been a kid? What if it had been Layne coming home after a late shift at the Dingo? She could fight, but four at a time? I was going to be glad when this all was over.

“You held off four of them with a pop bottle?” Soda asked to make sure he was hearing things right.

“Yep, I wasn’t about to pull out my knife just for them.” Two-Bit grinned. “I was holding my own until Darry came along. One look at Superman here, and they took off running.” Two-Bit grinned at Darry who shrugged off the praise.

“I got sick of waiting for Dally,” Darry replied. “Just showed up at the right time.”

“You were supposed to meet up?” I asked and Darry nodded.

“He was going to walk over here with me.”

It was a wise idea. Those Socs had taken to jumping anyone they saw walking alone these days. It was their way of getting back at us for Bob. Naturally, there was going to be a rumble to settle things. Dallas had been there when they set things up and came to gloat. I envied him. I was in no shape for a war counsel and I knew it. It was a taste of New York Dallas could lord over me, and he did, until Sevrin gave him her good news. The rules were laid out for a big fight and I couldn’t wait to sit out and watch it. Oh, believe me, I wanted in on the action so badly I could taste it, but even I wasn’t stupid enough to land myself back in the hospital again so soon. The rumble – that’s what they called their fights around here – was on Saturday night. It was only Thursday and a lot could happen between now and then.

“The truck’s ready when you are.” Steve wiped his hands on a rag and reached into his pocket for the keys, tossing them over to Darry. “Soda and I ran it for a while and it seems fine. Any problems, bring it back.”

One of the engine’s seals was leaking like mad the day before and Steve had offered his services up. That was the only reason Darry would be out walking when he had a job halfway across town and was bone tired after it. Layne had offered her truck, but Darry was stubborn as a mule sometimes. If he thought walking was impressing West and Tatton, he was about as bright as a starless night in the middle of the woods. If anything, they thought he was pretty dumb to put himself through that. At least he had the good sense to meet up with Dally.

“So, where do you figure Dally is?” I asked and everyone shrugged. It would have been funny if we all weren’t so blasted stressed over everything.

“Probably stirring up trouble somewhere,” Darry offered.

“You know, someday I am going to see at least two of you working at the same time,” Jack sighed from the doorway to the main store.

“The Chevy is done,” Soda defended, pointing to where the new tires and trim were fully installed, on time, as promised.

“Uh huh. All of you clear out.”

Soda and Steve gaped at Jack like he was firing us and I rolled my eyes.

“Five o’clock already?” I stretched and Jack nodded.

“Ten after, actually. I ain’t payin’ for a gab session,” Jack replied and both Steve and Soda relaxed a bit. “I hate to say it, but we’re feeling the strain without Curly. I want Soda here at eight-tomorrow morning, Mike at noon, Steve right after school. Starkey can start later and carry through until Saturday morning. And don’t any of you think about asking for the day off.”

Soda and Steve nodded, turning to grab anything they managed to scatter around the garage daily. I wiped my hands on a rag and glanced over at Darry.

“How about a ride home?” I asked and he nodded, leading the way to where Soda and Steve had parked the truck beside the garage.

Starkey wasn’t outside when we exited the garage, pulling the door down behind us. Jack wouldn’t be long behind us and then it would be Starkey working until the morning. Jack had tried closing the place from midnight until six, but the complaints from the shift workers who frequented the place was enough for Jack to go back to regular hours. Not that anyone was going to rob the place again or at least not for a while.

Darry hopped behind the wheel, Soda crawling into the middle, leaving me the door as Steve, West, and Two-Bit all climbed into the box.

And even though the mood was as light as it could be these days, I could feel something brewing. As much as I hated my coma dreams about the future, I was starting to wonder if knowing what was going to happen next would have come in handy right about now.

Well, another one bites the dust! Only a few chapters more, without any more unauthorized chapters, hopefully, but we'll see!

Any comments at all are welcom and flames accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!

Tens & Zickachik