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“Dal?”
He opened his eyes. Darry was above him, shaking his shoulder. Why was he- right. He was on Darry’s couch, not Buck’s. This one had been closer, Johnny said. And, in Dally’s secretive opinion, more comfortable.
“What do you want?” he asked. What time was it? It was still dark out. Or had he closed his eyes again? Dally blinked just to make sure. No, he was right the first time- it was just dark outside.
“Don’tcha know we have blankets? You look like you’re freezing.”
“Am not,” he said without thinking.
“Don’t lie to me.” Darry threw a blanket on him, then another one for good measure. The best word to describe the noise he got in response was hiss. “You’re pale, sweating buckets, and I doubt you can even stand like this- don’t even try it.”
“Why’d you wake me up?” Dally asked again, sinking back into the couch.
“‘Cause Johnny woke me up. He said you felt warm, too. That’s two against one, Dal. Not the greatest odds for ya.”
Where was Johnny, anyway? He was right next to him when they came in here. Dally didn’t remember anything after making it to the couch. Probably because he went to sleep (or passed out. Hard to tell).
“An’ Johnny is . . . ”
“At the lot. Don’t gimme that look, Dal, you know I can’t make him stay here any more than I can make you stop smoking in the house.”
“Damn right,” he said, lips twitching up at the corners. Where were his smokes, anyway? Where was his jacket? He must’ve started muttering again, because Darry just said “in the wash” and kept on. It was a stupid habit that Dally really needed to kick before it got him into the kind of trouble he didn’t like to be in.
“Are you cold?”
“No.”
“I think you are. I think you have a fever, Dal.”
“I do not.”
Dally suppressed a shiver. It didn’t work out too well, though, since Darry just gave him a look and then threw a third blanket on him.
“Shut up,” he muttered, too tired for it to have any bite. Darry raised an eyebrow at him.
“I ain’t said anythin’ yet. And this is my house, last I checked. I don’t care if it’s one in the morning, I’ll say what I want when I want.”
When Johnny had brought him in here, he’d said that Darry would help him, and while he wasn’t thrilled with the idea, he knew the kid was right. He certainly hadn’t expected his host to be so . . . argumentative, though. Dally rolled his eyes, causing him to wince. He’d forgotten how painful eye rolling could be in this state- and in his suffering, he missed the way Darry’s brow softened just a touch.
At least now he knew what time it was.
“Let me get you some Aspirin,” Darry suggested softly. Dally’s anger flared hotter than his fever.
“I ain’t about to-” he was cut off by a torrent of hacking coughs, flushing red when he finished. By the time that hell was over, Darry had somehow managed to procure the medicine he’d promised him.
“Take it,” he prodded, shaking the bottle at him.
“I ain’t some needy child. I don’t want it.”
Darry rolled his eyes. “You’re not being needy, Dallas, you’re being human. Now take the damn Aspirin.”
Dally swiped it, glaring at him, but not without pouring four more tablets than he needed into his hand and swallowing them dry before he could be stopped.
“I’m never letting you near my medicine cabinet again,” he heard, and though he’d closed his eyes taking the pills and hadn’t opened them back up yet, he could just picture the glorious look on Darry’s face right now.
“S’your fault for givin’ me drugs and expecting me to be responsible,” he shot back, smirking. Darry didn’t miss how it took him longer than usual to think of the response.
“This is Aspirin, not crack,” he said firmly, taking the bottle away. Dally groaned loudly despite the early hour.
“You’re no fun.” He flinched away from the hand near his forehead on instinct.
“Stop dodgin’ me. You’re only gonna make it harder.”
“That's the point,” Dally said, grinning ear to ear. He tried to lean back, but Darry stopped him easily with just one arm. Damn muscles. The back of his palm on Dally’s forehead felt cold, and this time his attempt to get away from the contact wasn’t involuntary.
“I hate the fuckin’ cold,” he muttered under his breath. Darry paused.
“Would you rather I stick a cold piece of metal down your throat?”
Dally shook his head quickly. Darry huffed.
“Then hold still, would ya?”
His demeanor was softening again, but his hands were still firm as he forced Dally to lay back down. It was probably not the best way to take his temperature (it certainly wasn’t the most accurate), but Darry had no doubt in his mind that it was the only way he’d even manage to get a feel for it with this kid.
“I don’ think I’ve ever seen you this sick before,” he said quietly. Dallas hummed in response. He wanted to protest somehow, but his energy was quickly waning. Maybe because it was one in the morning. And also maybe because he was probably sick.
“You gonna stay on the couch, or do you want Soda’s old bed tonight?”
Dally shook his head.
“I’ll be out of your place in an hour. I’m only here ‘cause of Johnny, anyway.”
Darry narrowed his eyes.
“You feel like throwin’ up at all?”
“ . . . no?”
“Good.”
Then, Dally felt himself and his three blankets being hauled over his shoulder fireman style. He didn’t even have time to react, because by the time all the blood cleared from his head and he stopped being dizzy he was already in Sodapop’s old bed with Darry pulling the covers over him.
“What the fuck?” he screeched, a lot louder than he meant it to be.
“Language,” Darry chided gently as he threw a fourth blanket onto him, “And volume. Pony’s sleepin’ soundly for once, and if you wake him up you’re buyin’ my groceries for a week.”
That shut Dally up right quick.
“Just go to sleep, Dal,” he continued, “I'll shut the door, I won’t tell my brothers you were here, and I don’t even care if you jump out the window in the morning, but for God’s sake, just sleep in a real bed tonight. Please.”
Maybe it was how soft Darry looked when he said it. Maybe it was how tired Dally actually was. He wasn’t normally one to give in- but right now, it seemed like he was losing the battle. It seemed like nothing, not even Dallas Winston himself, could win against the goodwill of Darry Curtis.
“Fine,” he said, rolling over and falling asleep in seconds.