The Good Bad Girl- the Outsiders Dally Winston x Reader

The Greasers- Samantha Keene, aka Sammy/Sam

Okay so first of all, that chapter was way shorter than the rest of them. Fuck. Second of all, I think I might have left out a part of this story...idk, I had a part that didn't save but it was just a title and nothing else...idk, enjoy the story.
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"Samantha, this is the second time I've seen you here in two months."

"My name isn't Samantha," I growled, "and yeah, I know. I had a mutual disagreement with Dallas Winston the other night, is all."

I was back at the same hospital the boys had brought me to when I was jumped by that Soc. Oddly enough, the same doctor who had patched me up then was patching me up now, stitching up the nine billion wounds I got from crashing into that tv.

"So, what exactly happened again?" He asked, pulling the needle through my skin in a fluid, never-ceasing motion."

"He, uh, pushed me and I fell into the glass coffee table," I lied. "Guess I must've put on a few extra pounds from all those Dairy Queen meals, and I broke the table as I went down."

"Mmm hmm," the doctor responded, making it obvious that he didn't believe me.

As weird as it may seem, I didn't want Dally to get into any trouble for doing what he did. I mean, I know that getting pushed into a coffee table doesn't sound much better than getting shoved into a tv set, but it sure sounds a hell of a lot less gruesome to explain to an adult. And Dally's already been to the slammer more times than I could count- gettin' sent back there again 'cause he got so drunk he got me put in the hospital isn't a valid enough reason to go. Not in my opinion, at least- after all, I've seen what some of them Socs have been put into prison for. And frankly, I don't even want to think about all the things they've done.

"Well, next time I suggest using your words if you run into an altercation, and not resort to using your fists. I just had to give you almost 60 stitches, and I'm sure you don't want to have to go through that again, now do you?"

I shook my head. The process had taken almost an hour in total, and I wasn't exactly fond of getting those stitches in my back. (Besides the fact that they hurt like all mighty hell, I wasn't comfortable with the fact that I couldn't move or see what the doctor was doing- I couldn't see when he started or when he was finished).

"Good. Now, I'm going to need a legal parent or guardian to come and sign you out for your discharge," the doctor said, removing a clipboard with a thick stack of papers and a pen dangling from a piece of string.

"Oh, um..."

The doctor raised an eyebrow at my hesitation. "Don't you have one of those boys that came with you the last time here with you now? What about Darry Curtis? He's old enough to sign you out."

"He's at college," I replied sheepishly.

"Well, you can't leave the hospital unless a legal parent or guardian over the age of eighteen comes to the hospital to sign you out. I can try and contact somebody to do so, but you'll have to sit tight here until then."

"Thank you," I muttered.

At that moment, my knight in shining armor made his long awaited appearance.

Note the sarcasm? I'm guessing you can tell who actually came through the door at that moment, holding a small bouquet of roses and a small, satin box.

Oh my god, I thought to myself. If that bitch came here to propose to me or something, I will actually cut him.

"I'll sign her out, doc," Dally said with a smile. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, wonderful," the doctor replied, handing him the clipboard. "Just sign wherever you see an 'X.' And as for you, Samantha," he turned to me as he said this, "I'm expecting you to take it easy when you get home. We need that leg and back to heal more than anything. Come by in about two weeks to get the stitches out, and make sure not to do anything too physically demanding in the mean time."