The Outsiders: Tally

Stay the Night

After Dallas wins a fight with minor injuries, he decides to crash at Tim's place.

-

Dallas was happy Johnny stayed with Ponyboy and them back at the house. He didn't want him to get tangled up in any stupid fights. Especially with these two idiots he had to deal with.

"Hey, Winston!"
From behind him, Dallas' ears perked up at the sound of a Soc. He turned around, smirking at the two Socs. "What now? Feel like getting your ass beat?" he boasted, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. "Better not talk shit, Winston. We're gonna beat the fucking grease out of you," the other Soc said, cracking his knuckles. "Come on, then. I'm right here," Dallas said smugly. The two Socs looked at each other before running towards the blond, one of them pulling out a switchblade. Dallas swung a punch right into one of the Socs' jaws, causing him to land face-first into the pavement of the sidewalk. The other, gripping his switchblade tightly, backed up before attempting to slash the blond's shoulder. Dallas gripped his wrist, struggling to keep the cold metal away from his neck.

The two men fell on the ground, the blond groaning as he hit the back of his head. He froze when he felt the tip of the blade gently pierce his neck. He stifled a pained shout as the Soc cut the thin layer of skin. "What you gonna do now, blondie? One move and I'll carve this into your neck like a fucking turkey," the Soc growled, his forehead touching Dallas'. "I'd like to see you try," Dallas groaned, kneeing the Soc in the stomach. With the wind knocked out of him, the Soc let out a long exhale before falling on his left side. Dallas quickly stood up and kicked both of them in the groin before spitting next to their faces.

He stooped down to the Soc with the switchblade's level before saying: "Don't ever think about starting shit with me again." He slowly stood up, holding the back of his head as he walked down the street, not even sure where he was headed.

He felt his vision grow more and more faint as he continued walking. He removed his hand from the back of his head, already feeling his warm blood on it. "Fuck," he cursed quietly, looking around his surroundings. He looked behind him and noticed a shabby-looking house, the bottom floor's lights on. He realized whose house it was and cautiously walked up the porch steps, knocking on the front door as hard as he could.

-

"I got it!" Curly shouted, getting up from the couch. He ran over to the door and opened it, startled by what was presented to him. "Who fucked you up?" Curly said. "Shut the hell up. Where's Tim?" Dallas asked impatiently, staring at the blood on his hand blankly. "He's upstairs. Tim! Get the kit!" Curly shouted, dragging Dallas towards the couch.

The entire room was blurry as Dallas heard Tim's faint footsteps. "Jesus. What happened?" Tim's voice said, sounding fuzzy. "I think he got jumped," Curly guessed, looking over the blond. Tim sighed and ran over to Dallas, kneeling before him with the kit in hand. "Tim? Is that you?" Dallas mumbled, squinting at the unfocused figure in front of him. "Don't stress over it," Tim shouted. After watching Curly run upstairs, Tim took out a couple bandages and tended to Dallas' neck wound. Dallas sucked in a breath at the feeling of alcohol bubbling into his wound. "Sorry. It helps to fight infection," Tim consoled him, patting the excess liquid away with a cotton ball.

With his neck properly bandaged, Tim gently pulled Dallas' head forward, noticing how much blood Dallas lost to the couch. "Damn," Tim said, "Just relax, okay?" Dallas stared up at him vacantly, his blinking pattern a little slow. Tim carefully laid Dallas on his side, the back of his head turned towards him. Tim went to work on the medium-sized gash, dabbing an alcohol-drenched cloth on it. Dallas whimpered, curling his body up. "I'm sorry, babe. It'll be fixed soon, I promise," Tim whispered, kissing the top of his head. Dallas' eyes grew heavier and heavier before he finally gave up, passing out on Tim's couch.