Work Text:
The first time Dallas Winston was arrested, he was ten years old. He'd been terrified out of his mind the first time he sat in a jail cell, surrounded by men who were not only two, three, or even four, times his age, but also hardened criminals who jeered and mocked Skinny Little Winston and laughed when Dallas had glared at them.
By the fourth time he was arrested, at only twelve years old, some of those men had stopped laughing. Some had grown concerned for him, about him, and started asking questions. Questions that Dallas has never liked answering.
When he'd gone a longer stint in jail, lasting a few months rather than the measly week to a month that the officers of Brooklyn New York had thought would scare Dallas straight, Dallas had found a comfort in the silver cuffs that would wrap around his wrists.
He wasn't sure what it was about the cuffs, or if it was the cuffs at all and not something else broken or wrong with him, that had brought a sense of comfort to Dallas. But every time the click sounded and he was tucked into the back of a cop car, it felt like Dallas could relax.
At least, until they brought him to his cell. And then it was something else that Dallas always did that relaxed him. Fighting.
Fighting was how he stayed at the top of the food chain. If he stayed on top, nobody could hurt him, because they all either feared or respected him. And if they didn't, they very soon would.
And then at thirteen, his dad got fed up with all the jail time Dallas was wracking up. Packed them up and moved them out to Tulsa, Oklahoma. A place where there were no gangs for Dallas to fight with, no older men jeering at him for being so small, for being so little.
A place that no one asked any questions beyond who he even was.
Dallas didn't like it.
It had gotten better, to some degree, after he'd met Keith Mathews, who had the nickname 'Two-Bit' starting to catch around the school well enough that even the teachers were calling him that. Two-Bit had introduced him to Sodapop who had demanded that Dallas come home with him and Steve that day.
Of course, Dallas should have said no and told the three of them to fuck off and to leave him alone… But Dallas was curious, he was curious and Sodapop Curtis didn't seem like someone who really accepted 'no' very easily. Hyper little thing that he was at 11 years old
Dally still couldn't decide if that was a mistake or not, following the three boys home and meeting the rest of their group of rag tag friends who all had accepted him pretty much instantly… who had all attached themselves to him despite him trying to shake them in the few weeks that followed.
Dallas had been surprised that, even while he was racking him his reputation of being a no-good dirty rotten hood around town, the group had stayed by his side. They'd stuck around, calling him Dally after an accidental slip from Johnny who'd been smarting off with Dallas about his most recent arrest and release. He'd been in and out in under a week, it was barely anything to him anymore by that point.
The comfort from the cuffs had stayed, though his fighting turned from needing to stay on top… to protecting the ones who wouldn't, or couldn't, in the little rag tag friends he'd found himself reluctantly fond of.
The 'Socs' had become his new target, the new enemy to jump and beat up and get arrested for doing so.
His name was known by all law enforcement in Tulsa, and the immediate surrounding towns as he'd later learned, before his first year in Tulsa had come to a close.
He couldn't tell you how many times he'd stayed over night in holding cells because of the Socs jumping him and him defending himself. He couldn't tell you how many times he and Two-Bit had traded sentences, or how many times he secretly bailed Sodapop out before his parents were ever phoned.
The gang had brought out a side of Dallas that hadn't needed the silver bracelets to stay calm or to reset his head and bring him back down to earth when he was getting too wild for even himself.
But everything comes to an end, at some point or another.
It was something that Dallas had forgotten until Ponyboy and Johnny had run into the damn church, trying to play heroes.
"Dallas Winston?" Dally blinked his eyes open, eyes landing on his girlfriend before moving to the cop. He'd hoped they'd call Darry, or maybe they did and Darry decided that he couldn't handle dealing with Dally tonight so he called Cherry.
Dally pressed his tongue against his cheek as his wrists started to ache. He supposed he shouldn't have pissed off that one officer as much as he did… The officer sighed, turning to look at Cherry who only looked disappointed.
"You sure you don't want him to stay overnight? We can handle him better here-"
"No," Cherry cut the officer off, a tight smile on her face. "I got him, Officer Baker. Thank you for your concern." Dally almost wished she would leave him in here for the night. Maybe it would give him enough time to get pissed off at her for being disappointed in him.
Dally knew that wasn't possible though.
He'd found that he couldn't ever really get mad at her. Just like with Johnny.
The first time Dally had tried to die, the gang had managed to stop him.
He was surprised that he'd forgotten that Ponyboy was on the track team, he'd forgotten that there was a reason he was on that damn track team. He only barely remembered how hard he'd lashed out, spitting insults at whoever had tried to speak to him.
The second time, it was only because Steve had been annoyed that Dally was late to a hangout that he didn't even remember agreeing to.
The third, Two-Bit had called him, freaking out because Ponyboy had gone missing again or something like that. Dally had found him within the hour, annoyed that he'd been unable to successfully get enough time to just die.
And the one time that he nearly did… he was brought back by the girl who had, in Dally's mind, caused all his issues in the first place.
It hadn't been her fault in the sense that she had done something… No… Dally was ashamed to admit that everything had started because he had gone in on her, harassed her and had brought the two Soc girls attentions to his friends.
But damn if she wasn't pretty, and damn if she wasn't determined to stop him from either killing himself or killing someone around him and ending up serving life in jail.
He'd been right when he'd first thought that she was fiery. A spitfire personality that nearly matched his own. She was determined, and she definitely had the confidence to even talk to Dallas after Johnny's passing, or even after Dally had tried to kill himself.
"Dal-"
"I know."
"No, you don't know." Dally barely turned his head to look at his girlfriend. He could see her out of the corner of his eye, and another wave of shame rushed through him. She had tears in her eyes and an expression that resembled too close to defeat.
"Cherry-"
"No. You are going to stop talking, and you are going to listen to me. You hear me Dallas Winston?" Dally winced though he nodded quickly, swallowing once to steel himself. "You need to stop getting arrested. Stop getting into fights with the officers who are just trying to do their jobs." Cherry started off strong, and Dally could only stare out at the parked car in front of them.
"I hate picking you up from the station, hate not knowing if I'm getting a call at night from Darry saying you just drank a little or one of the gang is sick, or if I'm going to get a call saying that you were arrested again. Or worse, if one day I'm going to get that call that I need to identify a body." Cherry had tears in her eyes, with only a few falling.
Dallas knew from past experiences that trying to comfort her would only make the situation worse. He was why she was crying, and he hated himself a little more for it every time.
"I want you to be able to come to me when your emotions become to much, I want you to be able to come to me if something irritates you or upsets you or even if it was just something that bothered you." Cherry's voice sounded a little weak, like she wasn't entirely sure of the words she was saying.
Or if she wasn't sure if he was even hearing them.
"Please, stop." Cherry's voice broke, and Dally finally turned to look at her fully. She wasn't looking at him, but she didn't need to be. The tears on her face were enough of a gut punch. "You have a few more things in life to live for, and I can't stand the thought…" She shook her head, taking a deep breath before seemingly steeling herself.
"Please, stop making me wonder or think about planning raising a kid by myself."
Dally's heart dropped, or maybe his stomach lurched. He wasn't sure, but he knew that he couldn't put any thoughts, the few that he still had, into words to get out.
It seemed like Cherry hadn't expected any, as she started her car and prepared to drive them to her house.
The last time Dally had been arrested, he was eighteen.
The cold silver metal cuffs had done nothing but make him feel sick to his stomach and ashamed as he glanced away from where he knew that Cherry was no doubt watching from.
Eighteen years old, nineteen in just two weeks, and he was getting arrested for "unprovoked assault". Dally would say that it was provoked all right, and he knew several witnesses probably could too, if they weren't so scared of him.
But Paul had known that saying anything about Johnny, especially disrespectfully, would set Dallas off quicker than anything.