Ahem, disclaimer time!

This first chapter only has swaering and mild fluff however, it contains slash themes. Aka, boy love, Darry and Dally. So, I don't want flames just because someone decided to read something that they knew would offend them. Shoo.

Next chapter is boy sex, aka a lemon so ahh, if you don't like, don't read and if you want to fast forward to boy sex, leave me a review and skip the first chapter. Hehe.

Also, please review. I see the hit counter, aka how many people read or at least click... Don't make me cry.

Last disclaimer, I don't own the Outsiders, and if I did, I sincerely doubt I'd kill off Dally.

Darry sighed in pleasure as hands ran down his bare chest. They weren't thin, girlish hands either. Rough, calloused and so alive with heat at the fingertips and pressure on the palms against his blushing skin. His breath caught in his chest as he held those hands in his own and pulled them close. He kissed the blazing fingertips and firm palms, brushing his teeth against scarred knuckles. Was the rest of his lover so scarred, hurt and willing?

Darry groaned as he came to the realm of cruel consciousness with one hell of an erection. He glanced at the clock and muttered to himself. It was the middle of the God damned night. Why did his body feel the need to jerk him out of sleep? He knew it was better in the sense that the dream hadn't escalated to him screaming his dream lover's name but hell, it could've gone on safely for a few more moments.

Then Darry heard the phone.

He walked to the kitchen with a sheet around him. He wasn't naked under it but boxers didn't leave much to the imagination. He answered in his "man of the household" voice since it was likely something important at this time of night.

"Hello?"

"Darry?" Dally's voice was raspy and worn.

"Yeah." Darry said, waiting. Where would Dallas Winston be, hospital, jail or option C? He wondered why he felt the need to compose a rhyme in response to Dally's usual predicaments. He blamed it on the lack of sleep.

"Can you come get me? I wouldn't ask because of Soda and Pony and all, but I kinda need an older looking guy."

"What for?" Darry asked.

"For checking me out of the hospital. Need someone to pass as my old man." Dally said in a quiet rush.

"I am no where near old enough to even pretend to be your father Dallas." Darry said, sighing. "They never needed a parental figure before."

"They don't now they just want someone who looks a couple years older than me." Dally's voice was very matter of fact but Darry knew that twinge of desperation.

"All right. Are you hurt pretty bad?"

"Naw, just needed some glass removed and a few stitches." Dally said. Darry wondered whether it was wise to ask what Dally had done.

"What'd you do?" Darry said, deciding wise or not it would be worth knowing.

"I wired a cop car."

"Jesus Dallas!" Darry exclaimed, unable to stop the pure shock from breaching his tone.

"They didn't even catch me. Ran out of gas cuz those pigs are fucking cheap. I only got an eighth of a tank in the bacon wagon." Dallas laughed and Darry tried to muffle his guttural chuckle.

"You are insane Dallas Winston."

Darry drove his sputtering truck to the hospital and walked to the emergency room with a brisk pace. He was a little worried about Dally but he sounded so live and wired on the phone he wondered whether he should be concerned at all.

Darry was taken aback when he saw Dally. Oh yeah, he had reason to worry.

Dally was still being treated when the orderly lead Darry in. He signed paperwork left and right to get Dally out of there, all the while staring. Dally had stitches on his knuckles but that was the least of his worries. His chest was covered in bruises that trailed to his arms and disappeared under his jeans. His chest was wrapped as if he had some fractured ribs and he was swearing and snarling like he was in pain but it could've just been a show for the new nurses.

"Is the paper work cleared enough for you doc or what? You guys never gave me this shit before." Dally said, glowering at the doctor.

"Yes, you're clear to leave, even though you do look young to have such a bitter child." The doctor said, eyeing Darry and rolling his eyes.

"I don't know why you have to give me such a hard time when I'm one of your best customers doc." Dally said, scowling as he pulled his button up shirt around his shoulders. Darry knew he wanted to wince but refrained.

"We want to make sure you're going somewhere safe after you're hurt Mr. Winston, even that safe place isn't with your real parents."

"Aww, I appreciate your concern doc. I didn't think you cared about a hood like me." Dally said, smirking as he stood up.

"I don't care about the hood, I care about you." The doctor said, sighing as he walked out. Dally shrugged his shoulders and his glare sent the nurses scurrying.

"Are you ready to leave?" Darry said, clenching his teeth.

"Yeah. Can I crash at your place?"

"Yeah."

Darry drove Dallas in silence, grinding his teeth. Dally may be a hood, but those fucking cops must've caught him. Nothing else explained those bruises and Dallas would've lied about it. He had a weird thing with cops and he never talked about his prison stays. The only words he had for describing cops would make a sailor flush. And even if it wasn't the cops, Darry was still angry that someone would, or could, hurt Dally like that. He didn't have bruises on his face, which meant someone wanted to keep the beating quiet. It had to have been a beating versus a fight because Dally didn't fight that bad.

Darry was angriest about the image in his head of Dallas Winston, his scar handed dream lover, bruised, battered and vulnerable, all the while clenching his jaw in pain.

The other side of that anger was that Dally was stupid enough to get into those situations. Hell, that was why everyone respected Dally. Stupid enough to get into those places but smart enough, vicious enough, to survive them.

Really, Dally got into those situations because he thinks no one cares. At least, that was Darry's honest opinion of the situation. Darry also knew firsthand how wrong that was. He cared.

He cared so much that one day he wouldn't be able to ignore it anymore than he could ignore those dreams.

Dally started awake when the truck stopped with a grinding halt and lurching break noises. Darry was already out, slamming the truck door and then the front door. Dally assumed his bedroom door slammed too even though he was barely out of the truck and limping along at a much slower pace.

He didn't understand. Darry seemed in a good mood when he was on the phone and now he was silent and foreboding like the grim reaper or something.

Maybe it had something to do with how pale he got when he first came in Dally's treatment room. His jaw was clenched tighter than a clam and the vein on his neck was throbbing away, just like Pony and Soda said.

Dally didn't like mysteries. He hated those sleuth movies and would only watch the last five minutes where that snotty detective type would spill the beans and take off that damn pompous hat. He was going to approach Darry's mystery bad mood with a similar strategy.

Dally barged in Darry's room, only drawing a baleful glare from the older man as he stood up and towered over the blonde. Dally gathered his courage and turned it into a hostile glare as he jutted his chin and narrowed his eyes.

"What the fuck is wrong with you Darrel?" Darry responded with the same anger and a more dangerous glint in his icy eyes.

"You know exactly what the fuck is wrong with me Dallas." Darry said. Dally's expression altered slightly, showing a touch of pained anxiety.

"Yeah, you're worried that I'm going to screw up your family. I'm a bad influence on Pony and everyone and you hate me for it because you think Pony or Soda will start acting like me." Dally said, unable to stop or acknowledge the words, feelings and fears that rushed from him.

"No. Don't be so damned stupid Dallas. The only influence you have is to show us everyday that someone society has throw to the wolves can get up day after day and kick society's ass for letting them down."

"Then what the hell is your problem?" Dally said, recovering from the shock and responding with more anger to hide his strung out emotions. He swore he just heard Darry say he was a half decent role model. He wondered if either of them had hit their head at some point.

"You know. You have to know. I was God damned scared to death when I saw you. I'm fucking scared shitless every time I get that hospital call I think about the time when it won't be your cocky ass on the other line and it'll be some bastard saying he wasn't able to save this no good hood, especially since I know you aren't just some no good hood." Darry said, his fists clenched.

"Why do you care?" Dally asked, growling as he turned his back to Darry.

"Damn it Dallas, you know why I care." Darry said, sitting on the bed and putting his head in his hands.

"Darry, I am a no good hood-" Darry waved his hand at Dally, stopping his voice. He clenched his jaw, his voice low and husky, and annunciated every last syllable as if he was forcing his soul to leap form his throat with every last letter.

"I don't give a shit, you son of a bitch, I fucking love you anyway."