Dallas Winston - 𝕀𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕤/ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

♡︎Drunk Driving pt. 2

She paced her bedroom knowing no matter what she did or where she went or who she called she wasn't gonna like the outcome.

She knew he had gone to do something wrong and she knew she was gonna beat herself up for the rest of her life for not ending that call when she was and going to get him.

She wasn't gonna go back to bed when she told him to, she was gonna pick up and go to Buck's and bring him to her place so he wouldn't do something like he was gonna do. She was horrified.

She was horrified he was out dead somewhere, she was horrified he had killed somebody else, she was worried about him but she didn't know what to do.

She thought quickly whether she should leave or stay home and wait for morning to come when she had a punch-in-the-gut feeling that she had to find him. She grabbed her car keys and ran out the door, not caring whether her parents cared or not. She had to find Dally.

She carefully raced the streets of Tulsa, scared where and when she was gonna find him. Everything was so blurry and out of focus. She had no idea what she was gonna do if she found him dead.

She felt incredibly light headed when she felt the force of her car smashing into another. She saw the glass of her wind shield break into a thousand little pieces. She saw her hair fly in front of her face and she saw the blood cover her fingers. She felt her head hit the back of the head rest and she fought consciousness.

She fell in and out until she saw the lights of ambulances and police cars and the blaring sirens of the various emergency services there to save her and whoever else was in the wreck.

She felt herself being pulled out of her car and she saw the car she had hit. Oh god, it was Buck's.

She recognized on the untouched side with the various of dents and rust spots. She felt like she was punched in the face when she screamed the name she never wanted to scream in a moment like this.

"Dallas!"

She felt herself fight the EMTs as she tried to get to her boyfriend. She saw them pull him out of the car, his face was damaged completely and she could hardly recognize him. But she saw the St. Christopher hanging freely from his neck, she saw the brown leather jacket he used to wrap her in when she got cold, she saw the brown hair she used to run her fingers through. She didn't know if he was alive and she was scared. She was scared that she was responsible for what he'd wanted that night, his own demise.

She fell out of consciousness again, regaining it in the hospital. The gang surrounding her.

She woke up and looked at all of them.

"Where is he? Is he okay?" She asked with a quick panic in her voice.

"Hey, hey, calm down." Darry said as he took her hand.

She looked around the room at everybody's faces. She recognized the pain on Johnny's face, the sorrow on Pony's.

She fell back onto her bed and began to cry.

"Oh god, I killed him."

She knew she had been the one responsible for what he had called her for that night. She remembered the phone call, he had told her to tell Johnny he loved him, and that he wanted him to take care of the gang. How he didn't want to leave her, but he had to. How he felt he wasn't strong enough anymore, how he loved her and he hoped to god that she knew that. She wished she never went to look for him, and maybe, just maybe, he'd still be alive.