Outsiders Oneshots {mostly angst]

TALK TO ME [TALLY]

Dally sat alone in the lot,

Alone.

He has always been alone. His dad never cared about him and his mom ran off to god know where. He only had the gang, but no matter how many times he said he didn't need his parents, he knew it was a lie.

He just wanted to feel loved. Is that too much to ask?

He took the envelopes out of his pockets, leaving them next to him on the grass. Each of them had a letter addressed to one of the boys. He didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, but he knew they'd try to stop him.

 But now I've got the best of both worlds. Dally thought bitterly to himself as he took off his jacket. He wasn't one for writing, but he tried his best to put down how much he'd appreciated them and how it wasn't their fault.

Dally stared at the last envelope. It was for Tim. Tim had helped him fit in when he moved down here and ever since then, Dally had noticed his feelings for him were...more than platonic. But he was too scared to tell Tim about it.

Fear was a foreign feeling for Dallas Winston, but he feared telling Tim about his feelings. He couldn't, after all these years, Dally just couldn't stand to think about how Tims's face would contort into disgust and he'd probably kill Dally for thinking about him like that.

So, Dallas wrote it all down. Fear crept into his spine as he held the wrist up to his veins, bright blue against his pale skin. He started to press down and then quickly slit his wrist.

He was about to do another cut when he heard big engineer boots clomping across the lot. He quickly shoved the blade in the back of his pants and threw his coat on.

"Dally, the hell are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" The familiar voice of Tim shepherd asked, squatting down next to Dally.

"Cant I sit and think without it being a federal investigation?" He questioned snarkily, torn between wanting Tim to leave and let him finish what he started, and wanting Tim to help him.

"Yeah, yeah I guess so." Tim paused for a second, looking around. His eyes landed on the letter and he grabbed it. "What's this?" He asked, pointing to the letter he was holding.

"Nothing, give it here" Dally reached for the letter, but Tim kept it just out of reach. Tim kept doing this and soon they were dancing around the parking lot, with Tim laughing and Dally grunting and swearing under his breath.

"Come on Tim, this isn't a joke!" Dally yelled at Tim as he once again dangled it in front of Dallas.

"I don't know why it's such a big deal, I'm just gonna read it anyway," Tim ripped open the letter, much to Dally's despair. Dallas watched helplessly as Tim's eyes scanned the letter. 

"Dallas, what is this?" Tim asked, extremely too calm. 

Dally stumbled over words, but he just couldn't convey a single coherent thought, Tim had just found out that Dally had the hots for him. And that he was going to kill himself.

Tim sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Dally could've sworn that Tim cursed something along the lines of "fuck it" before leaning in to kiss Dally. Tim clutched on to him, almost like he was going to lose him. 

Dally was surprised at first but leaned into the kiss. It would've been perfect if Daly's wrist wasn't bleeding out and getting on Tim's shirt.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," Tim whispered to Dally, pressing his forehead to Dally's.

"God, why didn't you do it sooner?"Dally laughed, almost hoping Tim would forget about the other half of the letter. He sat down on the lot and Tim quickly followed suit, sitting close to Dally.

"I thought you were straight," Tim laughed dryly and sighed. "God damn it, Dallas I've loved you ever since you rolled into this town" Tim looked away from Dally, scared that what he said would freak him out.

"Geez, that's a long time," Dally scratched at the back of his neck, cursing himself for not picking up the signs. "I should've known," He said quietly.

"No, no it's not," Tim said hurriedly, grabbing Dally's hand. Blood ran up to Dally's cheeks and he quickly decided he was going to kiss Tim. "I wasn't too obvious,  or at least I don't think I was. But-" Tim rambled, being cut off by Dally grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for another, longer kiss.

They broke apart as Tim reached a hand up to connect his fingers to Dally's. But he noticed dark red lines running down Dally's pale skin when he looked into his sleeve. His eyes widened and for the second time tonight, he asked:

"Dallas, what is this?"

Tim held up Dally's hand and rolled up the jacket sleeve. His eyes were drawn to two dark red lines, but under those were scars in various stages of healing. He was lost for words. He never had a big vocabulary, but it felt like he couldn't remember any word from the English language. The only thought in his head was the dark red lines burned into his memory forever.

"It's nothing," Dally tried to pull his arm away but was unsuccessful with Tim's strong grip on his forearm. Tim's eyes flitted from Dally's eyes to his arm, tears coming to his eyes as his grip tightened.

Tim looked back at the discarded letter and quickly picked it. His eyes scanned the part that he didn't read, a hand quickly coming to his mouth and tears streaming down his cheeks as everything clicked in his brain.

Dallas looked away, ashamed. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be found dead, with dew covering his body and the letters surrounding him. 

"Dally, why?" Tim's voice cracked as he choked on the lump in his throat. "Why would you leave us, how could you, Dally?" Tim sputtered, more tears flooding from his eyes.

"Tim, you don't understand!" Dally wretched his hand out of Tim's grip and he hugged his knees to his chest. "I'm so...alone!"  He dropped his head.

They were quite a scene, almost like an old Greek painting. The two boys were showered in moonlight, one curled up upon himself and the other awkwardly trying to console him. 

"Dally, you could've talked to me," Tim said softly, finally just hugging him. "You don't have to suffer alone."

"But you don't deserve to be burdened with all my shit." Dally choked out, desperately trying to not sound like he was a little kid. 

"Well, it's not fair for you to bottle it all up," Tim ran his hand through Dally's hair and wiped away his tears.

Dally just sighed and leaned into Tim's embrace--He didn't have the energy to fight with him. And he guessed Tim was right, but he didn't want to think about it right now.

"How 'bout we go to my house and get you cleaned up, yeah?" Tim said quietly, rubbing Dally's back. He noded.

Tim helped him get up and the walked to his car, Tim's arm around Dally's shoulders. Once they got to Tim's house, he brang him into the bathroom and cleaned the cuts, bandage and all.

"Okay, lemme get to something to wear," Tim said, getting up and giving him a small kiss on the forehead. Dally was quite shocked by the act, blush rising to his face. 

Tim gave him the clothes and he got changed, getting into Tim's bed. Tim held him tightly, wanting to make sure that he knew that he that he was loved.