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Dallas Winston and Darrel Curtis Jr. met when they were six years old.

Things had not been as divided back then. There were no sides, they were not greasers fighting Socs, they were just children.

Darrel Jr. walked into the park holding his father’s hand, Darrel Sr. smiling warmly as his son chatted excitedly about what he was learning in school so far. Darrel Jr. saw Dallas sitting near the fountain, an oversized denim jacket around his shoulders, and immediately abandoned his stories and his father’s side to run over to the other boy.

“Hi! My name’s Darrel Curtis Junior, but my ma and pop call me Junior!” he said, a bright, excited smile on his face as he bounced on his toes in front of the boy.

Dallas looked up at him, crossing his arms as he scowled “Dallas. Dallas Winston.”

Completely undeterred by his new companion’s sharp tone of voice, Darrel Jr. pushed forward. “Do you wanna play tag?”

This caused Dallas to soften slightly, eyebrows furrowing with a slight amount of confusion. After a beat, he looked around the park, as though he was searching for other kids around. Once realizing that Darrel Jr. was, in fact, speaking to him, he looked back.

“Really?”

“Yeah!” Darrel Jr.’s beam never left his face, and he took a few steps back, eagerly waiting for Dallas to join him. Another beat passed, and Dallas jumped up, running after Darrel Jr., laughing.

The boys spent the next two hours chasing one another around the park, splashing through the fountain, and play-roughhousing with delighted laughter and shrieks of excitement. Few words were spoken between them, mostly to discuss what game they would play next, but a strong bond was forming between the two.

It came to an end, however, when Darrel Sr. cupped his hands around his mouth to shout. “Come on, Junior! Your mama’s got dinner waiting for us!”

The two boys slowed their game of tag, and Dallas’ smile instantly faded as he watched the adult, tense. Darrel Jr., completely unaware of his new friend’s tense, darted over to his dad. “Can my new friend Dallas join us?”

Darrel Sr. looked towards Dallas, and gave him a small smile, crouching down to be the same “Do you need to be home for dinner, Dallas?” He waited for an answer, and Darrel Jr.’s smile grew brighter as Dallas shook his head silently. “Are your parents going to miss you?”

“No, sir.” Dallas replied quietly.

“Would you like to join us for dinner, son?” Darrel Sr. asked.

Dallas glanced towards Darrel Jr., who was looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes, and he slowly nodded. “Yes, please.”

Darrel Jr. let out a joyful whoop, and immediately grabbed onto Dallas’ hand, walking ahead of his father back towards his home. Dallas slowly began to poke out of his shell once more as Darrel Jr. talked a mile a minute. He was quiet, content to simply listen as his new friend spoke.

They reached the Curtis home, and Darrel Sr. entered the house first, holding the door for the boys as he called out towards the kitchen. “Gracie? We’ve got a guest for dinner, darlin’.”

Grace Curtis stepped out of the kitchen, a warm smile identical to Darrel Jr.’s on her face as soon as she caught sight of her husband, son, and their dinner guest. She nodded towards Dallas, who shyly waved to her. “Welcome, sweetheart!”

Darrel Jr. pulled Dallas over to a corner of the living room, where his two-year-old brother was squealing with delight as soon as he realized his big brother was coming near him. “This is my little brother, Sodapop. I’ve got another little brother coming, too!”

“Sodapop?” Dallas asked, cocking his head.

“Yeah, I’m named after Pop, and he wanted to give Soda a fun name!” Darrel Jr. replied. “I think he and Mama are gonna give my new baby brother a fun name too.”

Dallas looked at Sodapop, who had nestled himself against his big brother’s side, and was watching the stranger with curiosity. “He’s really little.”

The boys sat in silence for a few minutes, watching Sodapop stand on unsteady legs to toddle over to Dallas’ side, giggling as he lost balance and fell into the boy’s lap, looking up at him with an excited smile.

Darrel Jr. moved so that he was sitting next to Dallas. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“It’s just me.” Dallas replied quietly, watching as Sodapop grabbed onto his hands. “My mom hasn’t been around for a long time, and my dad doesn’t like me that much.” Darrel frowned as his new friend looked up at him with conflicting emotions in his eyes. “Your parents are really nice. Especially your dad.”

“We can share them!” Darrel Jr. blurted out, making Dallas jump slightly. “I don’t mind, honest! Mama’s almost ready to have the baby, and it’ll be nice to have somebody my age to hang out with!” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “The baby can have Soda.”

Dallas let out a small giggle. “You don’t mind sharing?”

Darrel Jr. shook his head. “Pops and Mama taught me that sharing is the best, so I want to share with you!”

The two boys beamed at each other as Grace entered the living room, bending down to scoop Sodapop up into her arms. The little boys squealed with delight before hugging his mother around the neck, and she gave the still-sitting boys a smile.

“Dinner is ready if you two are planning on joining us at the table?”

Darrel Jr. immediately shot up, holding onto Dallas’ hand as he pulled him towards the kitchen table. “I call sitting next to Dally!”

Dallas’ face glowed as soon as he heard the nickname, and looked towards and Grace shyly. “Can I want to sit next to Darry?”

Grace’s smile grew, and she nodded. “Of course, baby.”

Darry let out a triumphant laugh, pulled Dally to sit beside him, and for the first time in his entire life, Dally sat down to a family dinner full of laughter and happiness.

From that day forward, Darry and Dally were absolutely and completely inseparable. It began as the two of them meeting at the park and spending hours together under Darrel Sr.’s watchful eye. They played tag, wrestled, and every so often, Dally shyly asked Darrel Sr. to join them in a game of hide and seek.

Upon realizing how long Dally would go on his own, it became more and more common for Dally to show up at the Curtis home in the morning, join them for breakfast, and spend the entire day with them.

Grace and Darrel Sr. never minded, however. They quickly came to love the little boy their oldest son had befriended like he was their own. Darry’s excitement and outgoing nature that had blossomed due to his friendship with Dally was heartwarming to see. It also helped that Sodapop had absolutely become endeared to the older boy, becoming nearly as excited as Darry would be when it came time for Dally to come over.

It was inevitable that Dally began to spend the night at the Curtis house. Darrel Sr. was familiar with Jonathan Winston. He was a silent, dead-eyed, empty man who had lost any sense of self and personality when his wife died giving birth to the very child who had quickly become like a son to Darrel Sr. and his own wife. It became very easy for the Curtis parents to move around a few of Darry’s belongings in his dresser drawers, creating a space just for Dally to keep clothes. A cot was placed in Darry’s bedroom, but more often than not, on the nights where Dally would stay over, he would end up sandwiched on either side by Sodapop and Darry in their bed.

After their first meeting, Dally and Darry all but demanded that everyone call them by the new shortened nicknames. The realization that their nicknames rhymed was a wonderful thing for them, and they both took it as a sign that they were destined to be best friends.

Ponyboy Michael Curtis came along a few months after Dally became a permanent fixture in the Curtis household, and coincided with the first time Dally met Beth Matthews, whose son, Keith, was the same age as Sodapop.

Keith was a ball of energy that matched Sodapop’s excitement, finding anything and everything absolutely hysterical while still being the best friend Sodapop could have ever had.

When Dally returned to the Curtis house a few days after Grace had been whisked off to the hospital, he was met by the sight of Darry sitting in the armchair, propped up by cushions, and holding a bundle in his arms under the watchful eyes of Darry Sr.

Darry’s eyes sparkled as he looked towards Dally. “Look at my baby!”

“Darry, son, he’s your brother.” Darrel Sr. said, an obvious fond exhaustion in his voice that told of having to explain the same thing multiple times.

“He’s my baby!” Darry insisted firmly as Dally approached him.

He looked down, and smiled slightly at the tiny baby, whose green eyes were wide open and staring up at him. “He’s a pretty cute baby.”

Neither of them noticed Darrel Sr. snapping a photo of the scene in front of him, but they did notice the photo show up a few weeks later in a picture frame on the living room wall. It was after that day that Dally became an unofficial Curtis brother.

Grace and Darrel Sr. went from “Mr. and Mrs. Curtis” to “Pops and Ma”. Darry’s new bedroom, the one he had been moved into after Ponyboy’s new crib was placed in his old bedroom he shared with Sodapop, now held two dressers, decorated with items belonging to both Darry and Dally. It was rare that a day went by with Dally not showing up for breakfast, whether it was stumbling out of his and Darry’s bedroom, yawning and hugging Grace good morning, or entering through the front door with a shouted greeting before making a beeline for the kitchen table and a morning hug from Darry.

Ponyboy grew up with three big brothers. There was never any question in his mind that Dally was one of those brothers. While Darry and Dally told Ponyboy that Dally wasn’t technically related to them, and therefore not really a brother, Ponyboy just looked at them with confusion.

“He acts like you. You a brother. He a brother.”

His tone was filled with such finality that it was hard not to argue with a four-year-old who also had puppy eyes that could melt anyone’s heart.

When asked to do an assignment in school on his family, Ponyboy happily drew Dally standing beside Darry, and wrote “the twins” beneath their stick figures. Upon bringing the drawing home, Grace let out a warm, full laugh, and immediately hung it on the fridge, front and center. Darry chose to not point out the tears in his best friend’s eyes when Dally came over for dinner and saw the drawing hanging up. He simply hugged Ponyboy extra tight, and asked what he could do to help set up for dinner.

When Darry and Dally were eleven, Ponyboy burst through the front door with the biggest smile on his face. He payed no mind to the cards he had just flung about with the breeze from the door opening, and both Dally and Darry groaned as their card game was nearly ruined by the excitable youngest Curits brother.

“Pony!”

Ponyboy shot the two a brief, apologetic look, before turning back towards the kitchen. “Mama! Pops said my new friend could stay for dinner!”

Darrel Sr. entered the house after Ponyboy, guiding a small boy about his age in front of him. His dark hair fell over his eyes, and he kept his arms wrapped around his body tightly. He glanced around, staring at the room he was now in with a mixed look of suspicion and curiosity.

Dally and Darry froze. Watching Ponyboy rush back over to the boy’s side, and begin talking to him excitedly made a well of emotions burst up within both of them. For a moment, it felt as though they were staring five years into the past, and judging by the affectionate look on Darrel Sr.’s face, he felt the same exact way.

Ponyboy, still incredibly excited, pointed his new friend’s attention towards Dally and Darry. “These are the twins, Dally and Darry! Dally’s Darry’s best friend, but they’re both my big brothers.”

The boy glanced towards them, and spoke in a quiet, almost imperceptible voice. “I’m Johnny. Johnny Cade.”

Darry cocked his head. The hesitation in the younger boy’s voice was obvious, and he glanced towards Dally. His best friend’s eyes were full of understanding and immediate affection, so he pushed forward. “Nice to meet you, Johnnycake.” Dally grinned at the nickname, and Johnny ducked his head to hide a tiny smile as Ponyboy giggled. “You two wanna sit in on the game?”

“Really?” Ponyboy asked, delighted to join the big kids.

“I think I need your extra good eyes, Pony.” Darry whispered conspiratorially. His little brother instantly darted over to his side, snuggling close to him as he peeked at his cards. Darry wrapped his free arm around Ponyboy, and pulled him into his lap, resting his chin on top of his baby brother’s head so that they could both look at the cards easily.

Dally playfully huffed. “Then I get Johnnycake on my team! Come on, kid, we’ll beat them no problem!”

Though more hesitant, Johnny sat beside Dally on the floor, and looked at the cards in his hand.

Darrel Sr. shook his head fondly, and made his way towards the kitchen. “Did you boys help set up for dinner?”

“Yes, Pops.” Dally and Darry responded in unison.

Dally looked up from his cards. “Ma sent Soda over to Aunt Beth’s house to help with Penny.”

Johnny looked between everyone for a moment, bewildered by the exchange. “Are you guys actually twins?”

“Nope. Darry kidnapped me when I was six.” Dally said, looking back to his cards. “It’s a right of passage the Curtis kids have, they get to kidnap a kid their age. Sodapop did it with Keith, and now Ponyboy did it with you.”

Johnny looked genuinely terrified for a moment, and Darry gave his friend an unimpressed look. “Dal.”

Ponyboy giggled as Dally’s serious facade broke, and he nudged Johnny gently. “Darry’s my best friend, and honest, I’ve known them all since we were the same age as you and Pony. They’re pretty alright.”

Darry made a dramatic fake-sob sound. “Five years of friendship, and all I get is ‘pretty alright’.” Ponyboy’s giggles continued as he fell back against his older brother.

Dally stuck his tongue out. “Alright, back to the game! Darry and I are betting the last slice of Ma’s chocolate cake, Johnny, so we better win!”

Johnny’s shoulders relaxed, and a grin slowly spread over his face as he moved closer to Dally. Ponyboy’s giggles subsided, and he glanced up at Darry with a bright smile.

Darry and Dally exchanged a look over the younger boys, and identical grins were on their faces as they silently agreed that, no matter what, the two boys sitting with them, and the two boys across the street, would always be protected by them.

Over the next few years, the Curtis home became a hub for a group of children looking for a safe haven.

Steve Randall met Sodapop at school, and the two hit it off immediately. It wasn’t a friendship like the one Keith had with Sodapop, but their friendship would always be different, having known one another since birth. Steve became a fixture in the home along with his younger sister, Ace, who stuck to Ponyboy and Johnny like glue.

After his father ran off, Keith became a more permanent fixture in the Curtis home, occasionally bringing a toddling Penny along with him to allow his mother a few hours of respite. Johnny became the second most frequent resident of the house, particularly after he showed up for a playdate with Ponyboy sporting a large bruise beneath his eye, and a hand-shaped mark on his arm. Darrel Sr. had just about run out of the house to Johnny’s home before the boy had grabbed his hand, begging him not to. It was with a heavy heart that he conceded, but it was after that day that Johnny began to have a spot of his own in Ponyboy’s dresser, and more often than not, he spent the night in the Curtis home.

Dally, however, rarely left the Curtis house. He went back to his own just a few times a week, for a few hours, to prove he was still alive to his father. The Curtis family was his, and so was their home. The photos of him and Darry and Sodapop and Ponyboy decorating the walls proved that, as did his clothes mixed in with the laundry, the new table that had been bought just to be able to fit Grace, Darrel Sr., and their four boys.

It was Dally’s home.

It had been such a routine that he had forgotten that, in fact, he was Dallas Winston, son of Jonathan Winston, and not Dally Curtis, son of Darrel Curtis Sr.

He was reminded of that one horrible, horrible afternoon.

It was the occasional occurrence when Dally was not in the Curtis home, so Grace sat beside Darry on the couch as her oldest watched the television. “Where’s Dally, hon?”

“He just had to go grab a jacket from Mr. Winston’s house.” Darry replied. “He wanted to give it to Soda, since he’s too big for it.”

Grace opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the front door being slammed open. Now, the slamming door was not new. It was rare that the front door was ever opened gently, and Darrel Sr. had replaced the hinges far too many times over the past seven years to truly care anymore.

What was new was Dally throwing himself at Grace, letting out sobs that none of the Curtis family had ever heard from him before. His shoulders shook violently, and he clung to Grace with a white-knuckled grip. Dally was never the most affectionate of the group, only ever allowing Darry, Ponyboy, and Johnny to hang off of him. He allowed the rare hug to Grace and Darrel Sr., but a full-on, desperate hug was out of the ordinary for Dally.

Worry immediately making alarms rise in Grace’s mind, she drew him into a hug, tucking him between her and Darry, who had latched onto his best friend immediately with concern and fear in his eyes. For a few minutes, Grace simply held her oldest boys, rocking Dally gently as she let him cry, running a hand through his hair.

When she heard the sobs begin to quiet, she spoke up. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Dally’s voice shook, thick with tears. “It’s my dad. He’s making me move to New York with him!”

Darry let out a horrified cry, and tears welled up in his eyes as he tightened his grip on Dally, as though he would be able to keep his best friend from leaving.

“When are you supposed to leave?” Grace asked, attempting to act as though her heart was not shattering in her chest. She heard footsteps, and turned to see Darrel Sr. entering the living room, followed by Sodapop and Ponyboy.

“Tomorrow morning.” Dally said, his voice muffled by Grace’s shoulder.

Darrel Sr. let out a string of curses that none of the boys had ever been allowed to hear, but Grace did not call him out on his language.

Sodapop stomped his foot. “He can’t take you! You’re our brother!”

Ponyboy left his father’s side and leapt up onto the couch, climbing into Dally’s lap and clinging to him. “That’s not fair!”

Dally hugged him back tightly, and Sodapop and Darry were quick to join the group hug, circling Dally.

They did not separate for the rest of the day. Grace and Darrel Sr. stayed with their boys on the couch, hovering around them protectively as the boys alternated between heartbroken sobs and angry mutterings.

They all piled into Darry and Dally’s bed when it came time to go to sleep, with Sodapop and Darry sandwiching Dally between them, and Ponyboy cuddled between his two oldest brothers.

Sodapop and Ponyboy, exhausted by the tears of the day, fell asleep quickly. Darry and Dally, however, stayed awake, staring at each other in the darkness.

“Did he say how long you’d be gone?” Darry whispered.

Dally shook his head. “He just said he found a job, and he’s taking me with him.” His face twisted into something angry, an expression Darry had never seen on his friend’s face. “He said the house was too full of my mom, so it would be a new start for both of us.”

Darry was quiet for a moment. “Maybe we can run away.”

Dally huffed out a quiet laugh. “Where would we go?”

“We could jump on the train. Pops said that when he used to travel, before he married Mama, there was this town that had a big ol’ abandoned church on a hill.” Darry said with a small smile. “We could buy some food and wait it out over there. Maybe Soda and Pony and Johnnycake could join us when they’re older.”

His voice trailed off until he went silent. It was a dream, a whisper of an idea that they would never be able to execute. It was nice to believe that they could disappear, just jump onto the train and never see Tulsa again, but both boys knew they had to be realistic.

Dally reached across Ponyboy’s sleeping form to grab onto Darry’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. “I can run away from New York. I’ll get on a train and get back here.” He bit back the fresh flood of tears that threatened to pour down his cheeks, and simply took a deep breath. “Until then, I’ll write. Whenever I can, I’ll write home.”

“You promise?” Darry’s voice was uncertain.

“I promise.”

The morning that Dally left was the last time the Curtis family would see of him until he came back to Tulsa at the age of eighteen.

Over the four years he was gone, Dally and Darry kept up contact for as long as they could. Every time the mail arrived, Darry would be the first to race to grab it, barely sparing a glance at anything that was not a letter from Dally.

Dear Darry,
New York is really different from Tulsa. There’s a ton of buildings, and there’s no trees or grass anywhere. It’s loud, so loud. I don’t like it. There’s nobody my age in the apartment building that we’re living in. It’s a lot of old people or people like my dad. It’s annoying. I don’t think my dad is gonna send me to school, so I’m gonna have to figure out what I want to do during the day.
I can’t go out to a park and play. I think there might be a playground nearby, but I don’t like having to walk around by myself. It’s weird. I miss you and the gang a whole lot, Darry. I’ve seen a few groups of older kids walking around, and every time I see them, I think about our gang.
It’s kind of funny, my dad and I are living on the West Side. Guess I finally got my dream of seeing how people on the West Side live.
How’s Pops and Ma doing? Soda and Ponyboy? Is Johnny doing okay? I wish I could call you guys, but it’s like my dad wants us to totally forget about Tulsa.
It’s heart to find mailboxes to send the letters out, and I have to get money from my dad for stamps, but I’ll send letters whenever I can.
Say hi to everybody for me.
Your best friend,
Dally

Dear Dally,
I miss you too. Tulsa isn’t the same without you around.
Mama and Pops miss you a lot. Ponyboy’s real sad that you’re not around anymore, but he and Johnny are keeping each other smiling for now.
Starting school without you was weird. You’re the only person I liked hanging out with, everybody else was just there. There’s a kid in my class named Paul, but I really only talk to him because our desks are next to each other. I don’t think I want to be friends with anybody, either. They don’t get it like you do.
I added in some drawings the kids made for you! Ponyboy and Johnny were all serious making them, because they wanted to make sure you got to keep a bit of home with you.
I hope you’re okay, Dally. I’m keeping your dresser all set up for when you come back home.
Your best friend,
Darry.

Dear Darry,
Sorry it’s been a while since I wrote. Dad hasn’t been doing too good, and I haven’t had time to write.
I met some kids at the playground the other day. He’s a couple years older than us, and his name is Riff. I thought it was a funny name, and I guess because I laughed, he respected me or something. He lets me hang around him and his friend, Tony, and a couple of other friends of theirs. I guess they’re nice, and I like not being alone all the time, but they can get kind of mean. I try not to be around them too much.
I told him my name was John. I don’t know why, I think it just feels weird to have people that aren’t y’all back home calling me Dally. It also makes me think of Johnny when they call me that. It’s like my own little inside joke that keeps me from forgetting everybody. They’ve started calling me Baby John.
I’ve been thinking about that old church you said Pops talked about. Do you think we could make it into a whole new house for all of us? Maybe Mama and Pops could live with us, and the kids could stay. Johnny and Pony would probably lose it getting so much wide-open space, and we wouldn’t need to worry about anybody bothering us.
I’ll write as soon as I can.
Your best friend,
Dally

Dear Dally,
I’m glad you’re not alone anymore. I told Johnny what you’re going by, and he didn’t stop smiling for a whole day. I thought he’d just about sing it from the rooftops that you two shared a name.
From what Pops told me, that church is just about falling apart, but we could fix it up. We could turn the whole top part into lofts for all of us. Pony and Johnny could get bunk beds, and so could we, and Soda and Two-Bit could get their own corners. Mama and Pops could have a nice big space, too.
We could even turn it into a farm. Soda’s been all sad since Pops had to sell Mickey mouse. We could buy him back, and get some chickens and maybe even a cow, so we’d never have to talk to anybody else ever again. Mama and Pops could sell the farm stuff in town, and we could have so much space to run around and play.
Johnny and Ponyboy like the idea of having a big garden. We could have one for food, and one for just flowers and plants to have all pretty around the house. The hill means that it would be away from the road, which would be real nice.
When you come home, Pops can take us to see it.
Your best friend,
Darry

Dear Darry,
I wanna come home. I wanna see you, and Mama, and Pops, and the kids, and I wanna be back in our room, and play games with everybody.
The group I’m with are nice, but they don’t get it.
When I’m sad, I think about the church a lot. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to see it.
I miss home, and I miss you.
Your best friend,
Dally

Dear Dally,
You’re gonna see the church. Remember your promise? You’ll come home, Dal.
I think Ponyboy and Soda are getting sucked into things. Pops and Mama try to keep them out of our stuff, but Soda’s getting whispered about at school, about how he’s related to me, and how I grease my hair, so he’ll probably start doing the same thing.
Ponyboy and Johnny aren’t being talked about, so I hope that they’ll have a bit before people start talking about them. Are there lots of Socs in New York? I hope not. Maybe you’ll be able to hang around without anybody bothering you.
Do you think you might be able to visit some time soon? Mama and Pops were talking about maybe seeing if they could get you a train ticket. I wanna help them. It would be fun to have you home, even if you could just come for a little while.
Your best friend,
Darry

Dear Dally,
I hope you’re doing okay.
I don’t hang out with Paul anymore. He’s been saying some real nasty stuff about the East Side. I never told him that’s where I’m from, but I finally just stopped spending time with him. Keith’s going by Two-Bit, now. The teachers aren’t too nice to him. They think he’s not smart enough.
Pops is getting worried about money. He’s trying not to show it, but I hear him and Mama talking about it when they think I’m asleep. I’m gonna try and get a job over the summer to help out.
How are things going for you? Has anything happened with that group you met?
I put an extra sheet of stamps in this envelope in case you ran out.
I miss you.
Your best friend,
Darry

Dear Dally,
I hope you’re okay.
I miss you. I’m sorry if I said something that upset you.
I hope you’re staying safe. Ponyboy and Johnny have been asking about you. Johnny misses you real bad, we all do.
Please write back if you can.
Your best friend,
Darry

Dear Dally,
Mama and Pops are getting worried.
Please write and tell us you’re okay.
Please, Dallas.
I miss my brother.
Darry

Dear Dally,
I hope, wherever you are, you’re okay.
I miss you.
Darry

The four years passed by, with Darry graduating high school, Sodapop beginning high school, and Ponyboy and Johnny growing even closer. After a long talk with his parents, Darry made the choice not to attend college, wanting instead to work and help his father around the roofing yard. He did make the deal that, when he turned twenty, he would reconsider college, and knew that his parents were saving a little money each month to send their oldest off to college.

Darry’s letters to Dally went unreplied, and he slowly stopped writing. He missed his best friend more than anything in the world, and more often than not, spent evenings crying to his parents about Dally’s lack of response.

While Darrel Sr. was at work, and Sodapop and Ponyboy were at school, Darry had the day off, and decided to remain at home with his mother. He had spent the morning doing odd jobs around the house, little fixes that his father had put off, while also helping Grace with the housework.

It was growing closer to Darrel Sr.’s time of returning home with his youngest sons, and Grace had begun preparing dinner while Darry finished tidying up the living room.

There came a knock at the door, and Grace called out of the kitchen. “Darry, sweetheart, will you get that? I’m just about up to my elbows with this dinner!”

Darry finished folding up one of the blankets. “Sure, Mama!”

He went to the door, assuming that it was simply Beth Matthews or Penny coming by to spend a few minutes chatting.

The door swung open, and Darry froze.

“Afternoon, Darry.”

Dallas Winston gave Darry a grin, but it was a grin that Darry had never seen on his friend’s face. There was a hint of coldness to the look, a tension that Darry did not recognize. His hair was longer, and he carried himself with a confident swagger that had not been there when he had left.

“Dally?” Darry found his voice. “You’re home?”

Dally’s sharp grin softened, and he instantly looked like the boy Darry had met twelve years prior. “I’m home.”

Darry narrowed his eyes slightly. “For good?”

“For good.” Dally replied firmly.

Darry let out a watery laugh and reached out, pulling Dally into the tightest hug he could muster. Dally immediately hugged him back, just as tightly, and the two simply stood in the doorway for a few moments.

Grace, having noticed the silence, called out from the kitchen again. “Darry, who was at the door?”

The two boys separated, and shared a mischievous smile with each other before Dally looked over Darry’s shoulder. “Got a place set for me, Mama?”

There was the sound of clattering from the kitchen, and Grace stepped into the doorway leading to the living room. Her eyes were the size of dinner plates, and a hand was pressed to her heart. “Oh my.” She opened her arms to Dally, who immediately went to her and melted into her embrace. Grace held him tightly, running her fingers through his hair lovingly. “Welcome home, baby.”

When Darrel Sr. arrived home with Ponyboy and Sodapop, they could hear loud voices and laughter coming from the kitchen. Upon entering, Ponyboy screamed Dally’s name and flew around the table to throw his arms around the older boy, nearly knocking him off of his chair. Sodapop joined the hug as well, all while Dally laughed, hugging them back as Darry kept him from falling off the chair.

Once the younger Curtis brothers were able to be pried away from Dally, Darrel Sr. stepped in and clapped him on the shoulder, a fierce, paternal fondness in his eyes as Dally grinned up at him.

“Good to have you home, son.”

It soon became obvious that the Dallas Winston who returned to Tulsa in 1965 was not the Dallas Winston who had left in 1961.

At first, it was as though nothing had ever changed. Dally spent the nights at the Curtis house, and joked around with Darry. He cuddled Johnny close when the younger boy realized he was back, and the entire group had gathered in the Curtis house for a sleepover to welcome Dally home.

However, about a month after Dally had returned home, the differences began to show.

It started small, with Dally making sharp, annoyed comments whenever he and Darry would walk around town and they would spot Socs hanging around. While the comments weren’t new, his tone was, and Darry would look at his friend, surprised by his harshness.

When the entire gang would hang out, usually in the same park that Dally and Darry had met so long ago, it was as though there was a wall up between Dally and the rest of the gang. He was sarcastic, rolling his eyes and snarking back to the others. There were a few rare moments where he and Darry would get into an argument, whether it was about Dally’s comments about Socs, or a sarcastic comment towards members in the group that had them shrinking back. Those arguments were few and far between, but when they did happen, the rest of the gang went silent.

It was clear that the fierce, strong bond between their two leaders was beginning to shake.

The only person who could get the old Dally back was Grace Curtis. Johnny and Ponyboy could come close, getting a genuine laugh or smile out of him for a brief moment, but Grace was the only one who could truly get him back.

Despite the fact that Dally’s attendance around the Curtis home was spotty, Grace never failed to invite him to dinner. When he would accept the invitation, it was as though no time had passed at all. Dally’s walls completely fell down, and he would be grinning, joking with the other Curtis boys, and being completely and utterly himself.

Those were the few nights where Darry got his best friend back. Dally would lean into him when he laughed, sharing inside jokes and teasing him until Darry was nearly crying with laughter.

Darrel Sr. poked fun at his boys, discussing hunting plans and ideas to go to a rodeo in the near future, and Dally’s eyes would light up, giving his own thoughts.

There were no moments of coldness, no moments where things suddenly shifted.

For a few precious hours every so often, Darry got his best friend back, and Dally was truly and completely happy.

Then, Darrel Sr. and Grace died.

It was the last time Darry had his best friend.

Coming home from the funeral was a silent, uncomfortable affair.

Ponyboy had fallen asleep on the car ride home, so Darry lifted his baby brother into his arms, holding him as gently as possible as he carried him into the house. Sodapop followed close behind, almost holding onto Darry’s jacket as they entered their home.

The rest of the gang was already gathered in the house. Darry barely looked towards them as he walked to Sodapop and Ponyboy’s room, completely focused on tucking his baby into bed, hoping that he slept well.

None of the brothers had slept well in the past week. Not since they got the news that their parents were dead.

Sodapop stumbled past Darry, and paused just long enough to give his older brother a tight hug before collapsing on the bed beside Ponyboy, who immediately curled up in his brother’s space. Darry turned back around and left the bedroom, and the rest of the gang swept past him to clamber onto the bed with Sodapop and Ponyboy. Johnny instantly tucked himself on Ponyboy’s other side, while Ace splayed over the two of them. Two-Bit folded himself into the small space between Sodapop and Ponyboy’s legs, and Steve laid across their legs, surrounding Sodapop and Ponyboy in a bubble of protection.

The front door was open, and Darry could see Dally sitting on the front steps of the porch. Taking a breath, he walked outside, closing the screen door behind him. He sat beside Dally on the steps, and looked out down the road that led to the train tracks where his parents had been killed.

After a few moments of silence, Dally reached out, and wrapped an arm around Darry’s shoulders, tugging him close.

“The kids are okay, Dar. It’s your turn to cry.”

Darry tensed briefly, but everything was suddenly so overwhelming. The stress of now being responsible for his two boys, the grief he felt for his parents, the frustration and anger towards the social service woman who had approached him not a day after his parents’ had died.

He fell apart, leaning into Dally. Darry allowed himself to cry, heaving sobs that tore from his chest. Dally simply hugged him as tightly as he possibly could as his own tears fell down his cheeks.

Darry gripped Dally’s arm. “It’s my fault, Dal. I shouldn’t have asked for Mama to bake.”

Dally’s hold became almost painful. “Don’t say that, Dar. You know she was never going to let a birthday go by without her chocolate cake.”

The two clung to each other as they both cried, allowing themselves time to properly grieve.

“I’m so scared, Dally. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Darry said, his voice shaking as pulled back slightly, staring down at his hands. “They might take the boys away if I can’t take care of them. I can’t lose my babies, Dally. I can’t. It would kill me.”

Dally squeezed his arm around Darry’s shoulders with a small shake. “Darrel Curtis, you listen to me. You are not going to lose those boys. We’ll all fight tooth and nail for that to happen. They’re going to be alright with you looking after them.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know my best friend.” Dally said firmly. Darry’s head snapped up towards him, a fresh wave of tears hitting him. “He’s a pretty tuff guy, and takes pretty good care of his own.” They both laughed shakily, each wiping away his own tears. Dally nudged Darry gently. “I’ll watch after them when you’re not around, Darry.”

Darry nudged him back. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

However, after that night, Dally and Darry both changed.

The hardened mask that had been glimpsed since Dally’s return to Tulsa now became permanent. It was rare that a genuine glimpse of his emotions could be seen. Johnny and Ponyboy became the only two people who could coax even the smallest twinkle of amusement out of their older friend.

Darry stepped into the parental role, and the rift that had slowly been forming between him and Ponyboy began to expand. He tried to find the balance, but struggled with making sure his family was taken care of, while still making sure that everything ran smoothly.

While Dally and Darry rarely spent time with one another, they still made good on their promises to each other.

Whenever Darry noticed that Dally was getting particularly tense, he would make a side remark about having made too much dinner. It was inevitable that his statement would result in Dally, as well as Johnny, joining the brothers for dinner. Dally would notice how Darry would serve himself last, often having the smallest portion as well, and would roll his eyes. He would yank Darry’s plate towards him, dump half his food onto it, and continue eating without any comment.

True to his word, Dally kept an extra eye on Ponyboy and Johnny, especially during the nights that Darry had to work late. He became the only person outside of Sodapop that Darry trusted with the safety of the youngest members of their gang.

During the few rumbles that happened during that time, Darry and Dally never failed to watch each other’s backs, the way they had been doing for years. It was second nature, keeping each other safe.

“Hello?”

“Steve?”

“Dally? Is that you?”

“I need to talk to Darry. Where’s Darry?”

Darry pushed past Steve to grab the phone, clutching it with a death grip. “It’s Darry.”

Dally’s voice was shaky on the other end of the line. “Johnny’s dead.”

“Yeah, I know. Ponyboy told us.” Darry glanced over his shoulder to where Sodapop was hugging their baby brother tightly, and returned his attention to his best friend on the telephone. “Dally, what’s going on? Where are you?”

“I can’t do this, Darry.” Dally sounded close to tears, which terrified Darry more than anything. “I pulled a gun at the drugstore. The cops are after me.”

Darry’s blood turned to ice. “Come here, Dal. We’ll keep you here.”

“Meet me at the park?”

“We’re on our way.” Dally promised, and made sure he heard Dally hang up before putting the telephone down, and turning back to the gang. He hated seeing their bruised and exhausted faces staring back at him. He wished he had good news for them, but could not stop the words coming out of his mouth. “The cops are after Dally. We’ve gotta hide him here.”

As much as he wanted to keep Ponyboy safe inside the house, he knew he couldn’t keep his baby from following. He kept a close eye on him as they ran towards the park.

Darry spotted Dally’s silhouette rounding the corner, and for one brief, wonderful moment, he thought they made it. He met Dally’s eyes, and could see the same relief in his best friend’s gaze.

For a moment, everything was okay.

Then they heard the first gunshot.

Dally twitched, falling forward slightly before turning around as a group of police officers came swarming around him. Darry watched as Dally reached into his leather jacket, and he felt horror rise within him as he realized his friend was holding a gun.

Ponyboy reached out, grabbing onto Darry’s arm with a tight grip. “It’s not loaded!” Darry looked back at his baby brother with wide eyes, and was met with the same horrified, panicked look on Ponyboy’s face. “Darry, the gun ISN’T LOADED!”

The realization hit the entire gang at the same time, and their voices rose in a cacophonous round of desperate screams.

“NO!”

“DALLY!”

“DON’T HURT HIM!”

“He’s just a kid!” Darry found himself screaming, running forward without thinking. He couldn’t take his eyes off of his best friend as he finally collapsed from the gunshot wounds, rolling down the hill as the police officers stepped back. “DALLY!” He collapsed, feeling the denim of his jeans ripping as his knees hit the ground beside Dally. “Don’t you dare die on me, Dallas Winston. You hear me? You can’t die on me, Dally.”

The boy on the ground gasped, blood beginning to trickle from his mouth. Darry couldn’t help but pull Dally close, tugging him up so that his head was resting in his lap. Dally reached up, grabbing onto Darry’s hand tightly, clinging to him.

“I hid the kids in the church, Darry.” he gasped out, coughing slightly as the gunshot wounds in his chest bled out all over the bandages around his waist. “It was as nice as Pops made it sound.”

Darry let out a sob, holding onto his friend’s hand tightly. “We’ll go back there, Dal. All of us. We’ll make it all nice like we talked about.” Vaguely, he registered the sound of the other members of the gang reaching them, and he could hear Ponyboy’s strangled sob upon realizing what was happening.

Dally grinned up at all of them, a genuine, pure grin. “I’m gonna see Johnny again, Darry. Him, and Ma, and Pops.” Tears filled his eyes as he let out a sound that was a mixture of a sob and a laugh. “I’m gonna see them all again.”

“You can’t, Dally. I don’t know how to do this without you.” Darry begged, though he knew it was completely futile. His best friend was hanging on by a thread, and there was nothing any of them could do about it.

“Thanks for asking me to play tag, Darry.” Dally said, voice breaking as he met Darry’s eyes. “You were the best brother a lonely kid like me could ever ask for.”

Darry gave up his hold, and sobbed, folding himself in half to hug Dally to his chest, as though he could protect him from death. “Don’t go, Dally.”

“You’ve got this, Dar. Mama and Pops would be so proud of you for taking care of the kids.” Dally’s face suddenly shifted, and a happy smile appeared on his face as his eyes went unfocused. “Oh… I see them, Darry. All of them. Johnny, and Ma, and Pops.”

Darry held onto Dally as his body went limp, and his eyes went completely unseeing. The grip on his hand loosened, and Dallas Winston was dead.

An angry sob ripped out of Darry’s chest, and he stood up, looking around him to the gang, who stood, most of them silently crying. He glanced towards the hill, where the police officers were still standing, and he clenched his fists tightly.

“IDIOTS!” He looked back down to Dally’s still body. “YOU IDIOT!”

“Glory, look at the kid!”

Two-Bit’s panicked shout drew Darry’s attention, and he turned around in time to watch as Ponyboy’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed on the ground. Just as it had happened eight months prior, Darry suddenly shoved the grief that weighed on him, and ran forward to Ponyboy’s side.

Not him too.

Please, not him too.

Johnny and Dally were buried beside Grace and Darrel Sr. in the cemetery near the Curtis home.

On both of their tombstones, their last names had been changed. It was a unanimous decision amongst the three Curtis brothers, especially after Darry had shared their parents’ plans to adopt Johnny on his birthday that year. Ponyboy had been the one to suggest the line below their names, clutching Johnny’s final letter in his hands as they prepared for the funeral.

After the funeral, Ponyboy and Darry remained at the joint gravestone, Sodapop returning to the Matthews house with Two-Bit and his family. The oldest and youngest Curtis simply stared at the writing in front of them, eyes exhausted, and emotions finally draining out of them.

Ponyboy clung onto Darry, leaning against his side. “Do you think they found each other?”

Darry hugged him close. “I think so. They’re probably watching over us with Mama and Pops.”

“Is it going to get easier? The hurt?” Ponyboy asked, reaching up to wipe at his eyes.

“I’d be worried if it didn’t hurt, baby.” Darry replied gently, kissing Ponyboy’s forehead gently. “I also know that they wouldn’t want us to be hurt for too long. They’d want us to think about the happy times. Every good time we had with all of them.” He gently turned his baby brother to face him, looking at him firmly. “I’m gonna miss Dally forever, kid. He was my twin, and I’m never getting over losing him.” His voice became choked, and Ponyboy reached up to hold his hand. “I also know that he’d probably skin me if he knew I was beating myself up over his death. So I’m going to feel the hurt for now, but I’m also going to let myself think about the happy memories without feeling guilty.”

Ponyboy lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Darry in a tight hug, which he happily returned.

Dallas Winston and Darrel Curtis Jr. had been best friends since they were six years old.

They were each other’s person, twin brothers in all but blood.

Until the day he died, Darry would remember approaching Dally on the playground as the greatest decision he had ever made.