This Might Hurt A Little-A Dallas Winston Fanfiction

Idle Hands

All that we see and seem is merely a dream within a dream.-Edgar Allen Poe

I didn't wake up until I had already been thrown out of the bed and hit my face against the cold wooden floor. I immediately felt my hot blood rush out of my nose when I managed to get my head up, ignoring the painful throbbing that was radiating across my face.

"What the hell?" I shouted at Dallas but, when I saw him I knew he wasn't awake.

Tim came into the room only a few moments later, slamming open the rickety wooden door. He grabbed Dallas by the shirt who was screaming his head off and thrashing around all crazy like. He smacked Dallas across the face once, an action that rattled me enough for me to get out of my shocked state.

"What are you doing?" I tried to stop the blood flow from my nose.

"Wakin' him up." Tim shrugged, punching him again.

He was right though, Dallas was coming around enough to shove Tim off him.

Tim jumped off the bed then took off his shirt and threw it at me, "Use that for your nose."

I muttered a thanks and turned to Dallas, who was breathing heavy, eyes still wide.

"You're bleeding." I said dumbly, pointing at the blood that was beginning to ooze out the stitches running up his chest.

"So are you." He had shame in his voice, his dark eyes unable to meet mine.

"I'll be back." I stood up and walked out the doorway.

Nearly everyone had left Tim's by that time and the only people left there was Tim, Tripp, and a few boys I didn't know. They were still playing pool when I quietly shuffled into the room.

"Do you have any bandages? Dallas ripped open his stitches again."

Tripp let out a laugh but, went silent when Tim shot him a glare. "Go get some for this lady."

Tripp muttered something under his breath, his shaggy hair falling in front of his face but, not enough for me to miss him roll his eyes at me when he passed.

"Sorry about him." Tim took a drink of his beer, leaning against the table.

He had a calming behavior about him, contradictory to the idea that he had a short temper like everyone had warned me about. Maybe it was just that he was Dallas' friend so that meant he treated me with kindness that others didn't earn.

"Does Dallas have a lot of nightmares?" I tried to ask as nonchalantly as I could. 

Tim grinned at me, "Babe, if you think I'm telling you a thing about Dally without his permission, you're crazy."

I forgot him and Dallas were such good buddies. I sighed in frustration and I could have sworn he gave me a sympathetic smile.

Tripp came back into the room, bandages in hand. "Here you go."

"Thanks." I took them and started walking back up the stairs.

"Have fun dealin' with a pissed off Dallas Winston!" He called and I could hear Tim smack him in the back of the head.

When I got back in the room Dallas was sitting in the bed with his head rested against the wall, eyes closed, only to snap back open when the floor creaked under me. He tried to grab the bandages out of my hand but, I pulled back. There was no way he could do it well himself.

"I'm sorry about your nose." He said suddenly, his rough hand on my face.

I shrugged, "I've had worse."

The skin around his stitches was red and inflamed but I guessed that it would have been fine if he would just rest for a couple days. The likelihood of him actually doing that though was slim to none.

"I really am sorry." He said again.

I hadn't responded, I had nothing to say. It hadn't really been Dallas who had done it, just whatever demon was inside his mind that night. I wondered what awful thing he had been dreaming about.

"Scarlett..." He started again and that was the first time I really looked at him.

His eyes were round and shining with tears and I swear to God I could see how much he hated himself in that moment.

"Hey, hey, hey." I whispered, grabbing his face in between my hands and leaning down so my eyes were level with his. "This wasn't your fault. I'm okay. I know my limits. I haven't hit them yet."

He shook his head,his copper tufts of hair falling in front of his face, "Don't tell anyone about this."

I pulled away. I knew he was going to be okay. "I won't."

"Good, cause if you do..."

I snapped at him, "I said I wouldn't tell."

If you let Dallas walk all over you, he will. We didn't have anymore time to argue because Tim slammed open the door with a very angry Angela Shepard standing next to him and for the second time that night, we were in deep trouble.