Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Darrel Curtis felt most like a mother when September rolled around, to put it simply. The members of the gang weren't exactly equipped with the strongest immune systems, and often had built a tolerance for over-the-counter medications. The Curtis brothers were the only ones who managed to avoid illness, with the youngest Curtis as an exception, as Ponyboy had pneumonia as a baby and never quite bounced back.

And with the neglect and abuse the others received growing up, it was no surprise they all fell ill around cold and flu season.

But there was one who always stuck out; Dallas Winston. Dally had been a victim of childhood sexual assault and was never able to grow a stable immune system due to never being let outside, as his father feared being reported. A pro of this was never falling too ill, but Dallas needed to fall ill at some point to provide strength to prevent future illnesses. Because he never had that luxury as a child, he was more at risk for illness.

That's why Darry was currently holding Dallas's frosty blond hair in his lap, massaging the significantly paler boy's temples and hushing his soft whimpers. Dallas cracked his soft blue eyes, attempting to see Darry's reaction to his cold, but just saw a worried and slightly frightened Darry, who swiped a calloused hand over Dally's face to force him into closing his eyes. Darry was more worried about Dally’s 106.3° fever than his migraine, and was currently weighing what bills he could skimp on if insurance didn't cover the inevitable hospital visit, which it wouldn't, because Dally was not legally in his custody.

“Hey, sweetface, you gotta focus less on seein’ what's goin'on and more on healin’ up,” Darry said, looking at Dallas's bent-out glasses. The arms were forced out, probably because Dallas was still growing and his glasses were two years out of date. Dallas groaned, but turned to force his head into Darry's stomach, starting to burrow into his shirt for warmth. This gained Darry's attention. “Dal?” He asked slowly, wiping sweat from the younger's left brow.

“Shuddup. I'm sleepin’,” Dallas whined, burying himself further into Darry.

“Do you want a blanket?” Darry whispered, ticked off by the rude response from the younger, but deciding it wasn't worth it and Dallas wasn't in his right mind, which if he was, Darry wasn't sure he'd be in this position with anybody but Ponyboy or Sodapop.

“Yeah.. yeah, actually, a blanket sounds nice, real nice right about now, Darry,” Dallas answered earnestly, sounding more like a child than a hardened criminal.

“‘Course. I'll go get that for you.”

“Thanks, Darry.”

“Anytime, buddy,” he smiled at the thanks, the cupboard door almost falling on him because of the lack of attention. Damn, he really needed to get that door fixed.

As he returned to the couch and draped the thick blanket over Dallas, he noticed a grip on his right hand coming from under the blanket.

“Will you stay? I don't want to be alone,” Dallas choked out, clearly tired but not tired enough to not think clearly about his wants.

Darry thought for a moment. There was no reason to leave, especially when Dallas was in such a vulnerable condition.

“Yeah, buddy, I'll stay as long as you need me to. I'll stay forever, if you want me to.”

Chapter Text

After Dallas fell asleep, Darry let out an exhale he didn’t know he was holding. He supposed it was because the kid had been hacking up a lung for half the day, so now that he was asleep, Dallas didn't have to be in pain. Definitely not because if Dallas got better, he wouldn't have to pay thousands out of pocket for a hospital visit.

Definitely not.

Darry shook his head, and thought it would be okay to slip away, just to get some chores done. After all, he made good on his promise. Dallas had never responded with a time frame, and now the younger, jack-frost looking greaser was asleep, so it couldn't hurt to just walk twenty feet to wipe down the counter, Darry reasoned with himself. Though his mind still wrestled with the fact he'd be leaving the boy's side, he knew it was in his best interest to disinfect, hoping the others wouldn't catch the flu from Dallas. At least Dallas was a crier, and not constantly delirious, like Ponyboy.

At last, he pulled away, hesitantly tip-toeing two steps to the kitchen, before turning to tie up Dallas's long hair and caress his cheek, before actually pulling away and heading to the kitchen.

He'd checked the big grandfather clock before he left the living room, grateful Steve had fixed it, and read 12:42. Just before one, meaning Pony would be back from school in roughly five hours because he had a track meet that evening. Thank the lord for Steve and his open schedule, because Darry definitely couldn't pick him up with Dallas in this state.

Darry rambled about this to himself as he sprayed the counters and wiped the windows, until he heard a soft call of his name.

“Yeah, Dal?” Darry returned the call, temporarily frozen in place to see if he could find a response, but all he was met with was silence. Maybe he made it up, he thought.

That was, until Dallas dragged himself into the kitchen, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets but moving and vertical all the less.

“Hey, buddy.”

“You left me,” Dallas whined. He sounded more like a pouting child than a seventeen year old with multiple misdemeanors and a record as long as his arm.

“I'm sorry. I figured because you were asleep, it'd be okay to come and disinfect before the others come home tonight,” Darry sighed, reaching out his arms for the boy to clamber into, which Dallas did happily.

“You were wrong. You have to stay until I'm up.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't forgive you.”

“Would some soup make it better for you?” Darry asked, hoping it was a yes, which would mean Dallas was in better condition than he was before his nap, which was 27 minutes long, respectively.

Dallas thought for a moment, before nodding, pointing at some chicken noodle soup, and popping down into a kitchen chair.

“Alright, I'll get started on that for you. It'll be a bit of a wait, though.”

“That's okay. No rush,” Dallas grinned, curling into his blanket.

“I'll get started now, then,” Darry said as he grabbed the can opener, starting to talk about absolutely nothing, but knowing it helped Dallas to feel less alone if someone was talking. And if it helped Dallas, it helped, Darry, too.