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dallas walked down the street, hands in his pockets. he was lost in his thoughts, an embarrassing thing for him.
dallas didn’t like thinking. it got him in the clouds, like ponyboy, and he hated it. it made everything around him go away.
he briefly comes out of the clouds, noticing the dx across the street. he sees steve outside, and hopes soda’s inside.
it’s been a few months since johnny died. dallas had nearly killed himself, but then ponyboy got to him, pushing him out of the way while a bullet lodged itself into his leg.
ponyboy couldn’t run as fast as he used to because of that night. he can’t run from jumpings like he used to, so someone is always with him now.
he huffed and crossed the road, letting his mind wander again. dallas had began to hang around with ponyboy more often.
sure, they hung out with each other when johnny was alive, but it’s because johnny was there. dallas couldn’t recall a single time they spent together alone, other than his forced babysitter position from when he was ten or eleven.
he makes it to the other street, fixing his posture slightly before entering the dx. immediately, he notices ponyboy looking for something in the drink section.
“hi, dally,” sodapop’s voice meets him. dallas pauses, as if surprised, before he grunts in reply and strides over to ponyboy.
“you lookin’ for pepsi?” he asked, startling the fourteen year old. ponyboy turns to look at him. “yeah,” the bleached blond said, “they might be out, though.”
“sucks for you,” dallas huffed. “i’m gettin’ me a coke.”
“and makin’ me pay?” ponyboy teased immediately, grinning. dallas knew ponyboy was having it hard, struggling to smile. but he still did.
dallas couldn’t. he wished johnny was here.
“‘course i’m makin’ you pay, ponyboy.”
“well, darry gave me my allowance, so you’re lucky.”
ponyboy grabbed a coke for himself, and dallas huffed in quiet amusement at the younger’s disappointed expression.
dallas snags a pack of kools on the way to the counter, ignoring sodapop’s cocked eyebrow.
“you goin’ to the movies after this?” sodapop pressed his young brother. ponyboy shook his head. “probably gonna go to the lot. watch the sunset.”
“give darry or me a call if you want a ride after.”
“i can walk,” ponyboy said suddenly, voice sharp. “i’m not helpless.”
“i’m not sayin’ you are, pony,” sodapop replied roughly, “but i know you ain’t got a blade and you can’t run away from socs like you used to.”
ponyboy grimaced, then grabbed his coke and left. dallas hesitated, then glanced at sodapop.
finally, he shrugged and grabbed his own coke before going after ponyboy.
“never seen you get mad at soda,” dallas said off-handedly. ponyboy’s jaw ticked irritably. “him and darry are treatin’ me like i’m fragile. i’m sick of it.”
dallas didn’t reply, sipping his coke. he didn’t understand, and he didn’t pretend to. but he knew ponyboy struggled being the baby of the group, feeling like he was falling behind everyone else.
they made it to the lot eventually. ponyboy sat down, but dallas didn’t. he drank more of his coke.
he never did understand why ponyboy watched sunsets. he said they were special, that everyone watched the same one. so how the hell were they special?
distantly, he wished johnny were here. he frowned, jaw ticking. johnny.
he really did wish johnny were here. he wished johnny didn’t die, didn’t follow ponyboy into that burning church.
he wished johnny hadn’t stabbed that soc. he was scared to death when the gang’s youngest members showed up at buck’s, scared and shaking.
ponyboy had been wet and dazed, and dallas only found out after they returned from windrixville it was because they had been drowning ponyboy.
stupid fucking socs.
he wished johnny was alive. he wished johnny were here and watching the sunset with him instead of ponyboy.
he wished it was ponyboy in that fucking church that day.
dallas nearly dropped his coke, desperately trying to ignore the shaking in his hands.
he glanced at ponyboy, like he expected the kid to know what he was thinking. finally, he sat down, still trying to ignore the shaking.
he put his coke on the concrete, getting out a cigarette to smoke. it didn’t calm his nerves at all. why did he think that? he didn’t want ponyboy dead.
did he?
no, he didn’t. dallas did not want ponyboy dead. he didn’t. ponyboy was the gang’s last hope of keeping them together.
ponyboy had a future, one that went outside of tulsa, oklahoma. dallas grit his teeth. if ponyboy died, he doesn’t know what he’d do.
dallas sat in silence, trying to force his hands to stop shaking. to just make them stop, to make them quit fucking shaking—
“johnny told me to make you sit and watch a sunset,” ponyboy suddenly said, quiet. dallas looked at him wildly.
“after i finally became, well, coherent,” the fourteen year old went on, “after passing out that night you nearly died, i found a letter in my copy of gone with the wind.”
dallas watched ponyboy. watched the kid smoke. he was also shaking.
“i thought you were dead when i was sick and all,” ponyboy admitted. “i probably bawled like a baby. soda and darry didn’t tell me much about what i said. just that i had to get a bullet outta my leg.”
dallas didn’t reply. he took a drag off his cigarette, letting ponyboy continue.
“but, i found a note in gone with the wind. johnny wrote it, i think. i couldn’t tell. he told me to make you watch a sunset.”
ponyboy finally looked at him. “so you gotta watch it. all the way through, without complaint.”
dallas scoffed, puffing out air. “yeah, yeah. i’ll watch your goddamn sunset, ponyboy.”
“good.”
and he did. he watched it from start to finish, keeping his mouth firmly shut. he smoked at least three more cigarettes in that time.
“i’m gonna hang with curly shepard tomorrow,” ponyboy spoke when the sun was gone, crickets in the background. “you oughta find tim.”
dallas startled. “why tim?”
“i dunno. hang out.” ponyboy paused to stare at him. “just do somethin’. i don’t like seein’ you all sad, you dig?”
dallas didn’t reply. he looked away, staring at his unfinished coke. ponyboy leaned a little closer. “i miss johnny too. sometimes i think i still see him.”
“you sound insane.”
“yeah. maybe i am. but i don’t mind.” ponyboy tapped his fingers on his knees. “johnny was real good. sometimes i wish i was in his place.”
he wished it was ponyboy in that fucking church that day.
the words rang in his dallas’ head again. a cruel reminder that, sometimes, he feels that too. sometimes, he wishes ponyboy died instead.
“but then,” ponyboy mumbled after, “i think ‘bout mom and dad.” his voice choked up. “and i think—they wouldn’t want me dead so soon. neither would darry, or soda, or two-bit, or steve.”
he paused. “or you.”
dallas huffed weakly.
“so it makes me think more,” ponyboy murmured. “i wouldn’t want to be dead either. and sometimes i do want to be, but then i remember you guys need me like i need y’all.”
they sat in silence for a while. dallas didn’t know what to say, but he knew ponyboy was right. he needed ponyboy, and ponyboy needed him. maybe johnny was dead, but they would be okay.
“dally,” ponyboy mumbled, tired. dally startled and turned to him. “let’s go home.”
“okay, pony.”