Come Down From Your Fences

Chapter 35

"Dal, are you in a coma or dead?"

"Fuck off."

"Good enough," Pony mumbled through a huge yawn. He stood there, swaying slightly on his feet. It looked like he didn't even know he was standing in the family room, bugging the hell out of Dally for what must have been the fifth time that night. It was starting to get light out and he could barely make out Ponyboy's silhouette in the cramped room. His hair was sticking up every which way and Dally was sure his eyes were actually closed. Damn kid was sleepwalking.

Darry being Darry, he took the doctor's orders to the extreme and made Ponyboy wake Dally every hour instead of every three. Dally would have almost felt sorry for the kid if it didn't also mean he had to suffer through Darry's overly cautious plan as well. It didn't help that he could hear Darry snoring down the hall. Forgetting for a moment that it was his own damn fault for pulling the two of them into his own circle of hell, Dally found himself cursing the guy over the fact that he got to sleep through the night uninterrupted.

"Pony, go back to bed. I ain't gonna die on your couch," he grumbled.

"Swear."

"What are we, five? Yeah, I swear. Go to bed. You're givin' me a headache."

Instead of following orders, Pony blindly made his way to the recliner and slumped into it. The hinges made a sad creaking noise as he raised the footrest. The springs squeaked in protest as Pony tried to find a comfortable position. Apparently, he was settling in for the remainder of the night, or the rest of the morning. Whatever the hell you called this time of day.

"It's early," Pony stated simply.

"Or late," Dally countered.

"Depends on your point of view, I suppose." Ponyboy failed to stifle another yawn. "Man, guess I won't be goin' to the paper today."

"Read some of your articles," Dally admitted nonchalantly as he crossed his arms behind his head, wincing as he bumped the bandage covering the stitches. "Not bad. Didn't know you missed me so much."

"Didn't know I did 'til I wrote it."

"Well, you shouldn't. I sure as hell don't need some brainy kid hanging around, screwin' everything up."

"Whatever you say, Dal. But I wasn't anywhere around and you got yourself into this mess just fine without me."

"That was all Shepard's doin'," Dally said matter-of -factly, not expecting an argument.

Pony, apparently, had forgotten in the last few months that you just don't contradict Dallas Winston. "Sure, blame it on Tim," he said with a tired laugh.

"You got a death wish or somethin', kid? I said it's Shepard's fault and it is. My head may be bashed in, but my fists work just fine, so I'd watch it if I were you."

"Be a great payback for us coming to your rescue."

Dally closed his eyes and pictured his fist going through the wall. That calmed him somewhat. "I didn't need rescuing," he ground out.

"Geez, Dal - used to be you could take a joke."

"Let me know when you tell one," he said, rolling over with his back to the room, ending the conversation. "Go to sleep. You gotta wake me up in an hour."

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The next time Dallas woke up the sun was streaming through the windows, the smell of burning pancakes filled the house, and Two-Bit had just crash landed on the couch - right on top of him.