Come Down From Your Fences

Chapter 25

Awkward didn't begin to sum up how Dally was feeling standing outside that familiar screen door - fucking stupid was more like it.

Shepard dropped him off and he bounded up the steps without a thought, same as always. He reached out for the door, no big deal; then suddenly he stopped. It was the stopping that screwed everything up. He had no idea why he hesitated, why his hands started to shake. But suddenly, without thinking, he was taking a step back from the door - like a coward backing out of a fight.

He fisted his hands, wanting to hit something - maybe a brick wall, maybe a tree, maybe a plate glass window - hit something until his knuckles bled and pain replaced this shaky uneasiness that had crept up on him.

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a deep drag. That calmed him somewhat, which pissed him off even more. He shouldn't need calming - he was tough, nothing bothered him, nothing ever got to him. Liar, a voice whispered in his head and he ran an unsteady hand through his hair and began to pace, the old planks of the porch creaking with each step.

The door opened and he barely noticed. It was Darry.

"Dallas," he simply stated.

"Darry," Dally replied, his voice flat. He leaned against the railing, trying to appear nonchalant as he blew out a cloud of smoke.

"What are you doing out here?" Darry asked. "It looks like you're casing the place or something. Get in here before one of the neighbors gets the wrong idea and thinks we have something worth stealing."

Dally smiled because Darry would have expected him to. He dropped the cigarette and ground it out with the toe of his boot.

"Sure thing, Darry. Just grabbing a quick smoke," he explained as he brushed past his friend and entered the house.

--------------------

"Well, what d'ya know - the prodigal hoodlum returns," Two-Bit announced cheerfully as Dally stepped through the door.

Everyone was in the family room, looking at him expectantly. He didn't say anything at first, simply nodded - allowing his cool demeanor to do all the talking. They were used to it - it wasn't like he was a Chatty Kathy on his best days - so hopefully no one thought he was acting strangely.

Pony and Soda were lounging on the couch, Two-Bit was on the floor with his back propped up against couch, Steve was sitting in the old armchair, Darry was standing in the doorway, and Johnny ... Johnny was sitting in a wheelchair.

The minute his gaze landed on the chair, a coldness swept over Dally and he heard a faint screaming as though it was coming from the back of the house. He recognized those screams - he'd heard them in jail, too - they weren't real, they were a figment of his fucked-up imagination. He became very still, trying to will the phantom sounds away without anyone being the wiser. Maybe he was going crazy? Well, if he was, he certainly didn't want anyone else to know about it.

As soon as the screams started, they stopped. Within seconds, Dally had himself convinced he hadn't heard anything in the first place.

Without a word, he made his way to the kitchen and snagged a beer from the fridge. Grabbing one of the kitchen chairs, he noticed the discarded playing cards on the table and assumed his arrival had interrupted one of the gang's marathon poker games. Seeing that calmed his somewhat, it proved everything was back to normal. He could picture everyone sitting around the table, laughing and arguing while he palmed the best cards and cheated his way to a win.

He made his way back into the room planted the chair on the floor and sat down, straddling the back of it. "So, did you guys miss me?" he said, forcing a grin, trying to convince himself he was fine. Pony and Soda exchanged a glance, but it was Two-Bit who spoke first.