Dallas Winston Has A Sister? (Outsiders Fanfic)

The Punishing Tactics of Big Brothers Involve Murdering Someone with an Ax

Note to Readers:  Hopefully the title makes you want to read it, right?  As always, don't forget to comment and vote!

        "I can't believe we're doing this," I said as Pony and I walked down the street late at night.

        "Doing what?" Pony asked, glancing at me curiously.

        "This," I gestured to everything, and I paused for a second before saying, "I can't believe you snuck out of your house in the middle of the night," not even bothering to try and hide the amusement in my tone.

        "Don't remind me. Darry's gonna kill me if he finds out," Pony answered glumly, and I caught a hint of fear in his eyes.

        "He won't," I answered, sure of myself.  We continued walking in silence for a while, but then I asked, "But if you're so scared of him finding out, why'd you do it?"

        "Cause I wanted to see you," he answered immediately.

        That quick response surprised me a little, so I argued, 'You see me at school every day."

        "That's different.  I see a ton of people at school every day.  But you don't ever come over to our house, or the DX, or the lot, or the movies anymore," Pony explained.

        "Oh, did I forget to mention that I'm grounded?" I said carelessly, like it was some insignificant thing.

        "Yeah, you might've," he replied, sounding a bit offended and then surprised as he asked, "You too?"

        "No, I'm exempt from the punishing tactics of big brothers," I answered sarcastically.

        Pony rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smile.  I liked his smile, and I grinned myself in spite of it.

        "What?" he asked, noticing it.

        "Nothing," I said with a shrug.

        He didn't say anything more, and then even though it was eleven at night on a Thursday, we went down to the Dingo, which was open until bar time, to get Pepsi's and then we went and sat in the lot.  I was sitting next to Pony on the grass, one arm circled around my knee and my other leg tucked under me.

        "If you're grounded, why'd you sneak out tonight?" Pony asked me, sitting up from where he'd been sprawled out on the cool grass on his back, staring up at the stars.

        "I'm not scared of Dally," I scoffed.

        "I know.  But don't tell me you actually like risking getting caught and yelled at by him and grounded again," he argued, making a fairly good point.

        "And if I do?" I asked, slightly defensive but still smirking.

        He grinned and shook his head.

        "Do you always have to do risky, dangerous stuff?" he asked me, almost amused.

        "What's the fun in it if you don't?" I reasoned, at least according to my logic.

        Ponyboy just looked at me, long enough that it was starting to creep me out, but then he stated, "We both know that's not the real reason you snuck out."

        When had he gotten so good at telling when I'm lying?  And when had my lying gotten so bad?

        I continued with the act though, feigning innocence and demanding sarcastically, "Well then why don't you tell me why I snuck out since of course I have no clue."

        "Seeing as how you're never going to admit it, I will.  It's cause you missed me just as much as I missed you, cause you actually like me a lot more than friends do.  You might actually lo-" he statrted explaining, a bit smugly, but I cut him off.

        "How about you quit telling me what you maybe think my feelings might be and instead concentrate on your own feelings and keep your thoughts to yourself?" I abruptly suggested as I got to my feet, brushing grass off my pants.

        I was done with this impromptu 'date' if you could even call it that.  Pony seemed taken aback and a bit hurt but he got up too, not saying anything as we started heading home. He walked with me to my house, but only because mine came first in the direction we were going.

        "You know you don't have to drop me off when we sneak out of the house in the middle of the night," I told him before heading for the side of the house to scale the oak tree and climb in my bedroom window.  I never made it though, because before I had even grabbed the first branch, a light downstairs turned on, shining dimly through the windows.  It must have been the bathroom light.  "Bye," I told Pony, meaning you'd-better-get-out-of-here-right-now-before-my-brother-murders-you-with-an-as rather than a typical parting word.

        He had just dashed out of sight behind a tree in the neighbor's yard when the screen door slammed open and Dally yelled my name.

        "Yes, sir," I answered mockingly as I came up the porch steps to face my infuriated big brother.

        He grabbed me by the collar of my jacket, glancing around once more outside before slamming the door as he jerked me inside.  He whirled to face me, his fists clenched at his sides and his expression one of pure anger.

        "What the hell do you think you're doing sneaking out this time of night?!" he screamed, and I wondered how many neighbor's he'd woken up.

        "Actually, I was sneaking in.  I just finished breaking up a drug cartel from Guatemala," I replied sarcastically, making a big joke out of it and not the slightest bit affected by my brother's rage.  Like I'd told Pony, I wasn't scared of him.

        "What is this, some game to you?  I swear, I'll lock you in your room from now on if you don't knock this off," he commanded, glaring at me with cold, hard eyes.

        "What if I have to go to the bathroom?" I inquired, trying to make it sound like an honest question just to piss Dally off even more.

        "You think you can just ignore every damn thing I tell you and say to hell with it?" he demanded, literally screaming in my face. I could feel his hot breath on cheeks and he was spitting his words out.

        "Yes.  To hell with it.  You're not my damn father," I objected defensively, raising my voice but it wasn't him I was mad at.

        I stepped to the side, stalking right past him and then storming up the stairs to my room, slamming the door and locking myself in.

        In one smooth move, I swiped my arm across my desk and shoved all my books and papers on the floor.  I grabbed the desk chair and chucked it at the wall, and with a satisfying thud it left a big dent in the drywall before clattering to the floor.  I tore all the blankets off my bed and threw them around the room and then yanked all the drawers out of my dresser and overturning them on the floor, spilling clothes in a head and then proceeding to kick them around like I could dropkick them out of my life.  I slammed my fist into the headboard of my bed a couple times and knocked the lamp on the night table on the floor, ripping the cord out of the wall in the process.  I picked up random items off the floor and whipped them at the wall, the dresser, the bare mattress, back at the floor.  I gave the bed frame a few hard kicks and then collapsed on the bed, screaming into a pile of clothes until my throat was sore.

        I finally calmed down after abusing my furniture at around twelve thirty at night and lay on the bed, breathing hard and strangely numb even though I could feel my fists and feet throbbing with forming bruises.  I must have fallen asleep eventually after trying to decipher what exactly had infuriated me enough to trash my room and act like a maniac, but I couldn't remember until I woke up sore and exhausted the next morning.