losing sleep ➵ dallas winston

five

July 9, 1968

When I woke up, the bed beside me was still warm. I sat up, quietly. Dallas was sitting on the end of the bed. The way he was sitting was off. The whole time I'd known Dallas, I'd never seen him slouch. He held himself high, even when he was in the hospital. His leg was bouncing, and when I looked closer, I could see that his hands were trembling as he held them to his face.

I placed a hand on his shoulder, "Hey-"

His body jerked violently away from my hand. He turned to look at me, and I could see fear dancing in his eyes. He turned away from me, placing his head in his hands again. "Jesus Brooke."

"I'm sorry," I said, taking his hand slowly. "I didn't know you'd get scared." Dallas was silent in response. I got up from the bed, kneeling in front of him. I took his head in my hands, making him look at me. "Are you okay?"

His eyes wouldn't meet mine. "Yeah. I'm okay."

I shook my head, "You're not, Dally."

His gaze finally shifted to me. Tears brimmed his eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. "I don't know what this feeling is."

Standing up, I took his head in my arms. I held his head against my chest, stroking his hair. I could feel him trembling with each breath. "You're safe Dal." Still shaking, I felt his arms wrap around my waist. His head became heavy as he leaned further into me. "What happened?"

I could feel his tears soaking into my shirt. "I don't know," his voice wavered with every word, "I just woke up with this really horrible feeling."

"Like the socs' were gonna come back?"

He lifted his head and looked at me, tears still streaking down his face. "How'd you know?"

I sighed, sitting next to him on the bed. "My mom was bipolar. I always thought that stuff was just big mood swings, but some weeks she'd get real bad. When she was off her meds she would get paranoid and sometimes see stuff. So I guess I'm sorta familiar."

"Did she get better?"

"What?"

"Did she stay paranoid?"

I thought about his question for a moment. "It's hard for stuff like that to go away. She wasn't cured or anything but she was better before she passed, yeah." He nodded, looking at me with empathy in his eyes. "You'll be ok," I continued, taking his hand, "We can manage it."

He smiled softly, and it looked like the fear had dissipated. He brought my hand up to his lips, kissing it softly. I leaned my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, taking in the moment. "Hey," I said, standing up slowly, "Get dressed, let's go see your friends."

Dally nodded, smiling at the thought of seeing his friends.

"I'll wait for you outside," I said, quickly throwing on my shoes and jacket.

When I got downstairs I realized it was later than I thought, 4pm. Buck was behind the bar, wiping down the counter. He stopped when he saw me, throwing the rag over his shoulder. "How's he doing?"

"He's ok," I pulled out a cigarette and handed it to him for a light. He lit it and gave it back. "Dallas gave you your keys back right?"

He nodded. "Y'all goin' somewhere?"

"Yeah, visiting Ponyboy and Sodapop."

"I didn't know you knew them," Buck said, retrieving his rag and polishing the counter again.

"I don't really, only met them once," I replied, walking away from the bar and towards the door. I stepped outside, taking a seat on the steps. I held one arm close to my chest, taking a drag with my free hand.