All for Myself {dallyboy}

Found Him

"Y'all, I'm gonna fuckin burst. Whose idea was it to get a double burger?" Dally inquires.

"Yours, fatty. You ordered it." Johnny giggles.

"Hey, he's only big boned!" I laugh back.

"Oh, hush. Look at Pony's cute little rolls." Dally reaches under my shirt and pinches my side.

"Dallaass!" I whine with another giggle. As much as I want to be shocked, it really tickles.

We all laugh in unison and decide to leave the diner. We parked near downtown and walked a few blocks over to the diner, so we decide to return to the car on foot. We take our unfinished milkshakes with us, walking down the sidewalk with Dally in the middle. He has a hand around my waist as usual, but his hand migrates down to fill my back pocket. Johnny walks in line with us. We keep up a solid conversation, laughing and joking as we try to make it past the run down buildings.

I get nervous as we approach the bus station. The once empty station is now filled with people. Everyone knew the punks liked to hang out around the bus station, terrorizing any and everyone who passed. Punks aren't like greasers- punks like to harass people, smash windows, and they wear those weird clothes and strange haircuts. It depended on the gang, some could be nice. But the punks fooling around at this station were not.

From about a block away, I see them pushing each other around and yelling, even spitting at each other. There's a skinny one with wild, bleached hair with dark roots. The two others are dark-haired, one with spiky, messy fringe and the other cut short enough to see his scalp showing through. They wore skinny pants, with shirts that were torn and ripped up. They had scribbled graphics on them, like they had been crudely drawn on.

Dally feels me lean into him uncomfortably as we walk.

"hey, don't worry. I'm right here." He whispers to me as we get further. Johnny even starts to huddle in closer.

As we approach, I realize there's more than the three of them on the sidewalk. Two others huddle against the side of the station with riveted leather vests and more wild haircuts. They hang their heads down, so I can't see their faces. My friend Rusty James said they sleep in the empty bus terminals, because they're all homeless.

The two boys sitting on the floor just looked blank, really. They looked like kids wearing costumes.

"Look at the fags!" the blonde yells at the two other bumbling guys. They seem out of it, probably high.

"Who the fuck are you talking to?" Dallas growls. He moves his hand around my waist protectively. I try to hold him back by turning to him and placing my hand on his chest.

"please, Dal, can we just go? It's nothing..." I plead.

"Yeah, listen to your little boyfriend, fag! Actually, let's see... why don't I give 'em a try?" He flicks out a switch blade from his hand, and motions to the other two standing men. They immediately spring towards me, ripping me from Dally's grasp.

"Hey! Please, let me go!" They hold my hands behind my back, and the blonde runs over to my face. He stares into my eyes wildly, and I notice the scratches and needle scars going up his arms. He laughs deeply before licking the side of my face with his flat tongue. His hot breath against my face makes me shudder in fear.

"Aahhh-!" I yell, and he before I know it, Dallas pulls him back roughly by the shoulder and gives him a punch to the nose. The blonde stumbles around, still laughing. He sits down against the wall, still chuckling to himself looking blankly.

"Johnny, run to the truck!" Dally calls out, making Johnny book it the rest of the way down to the parking lot.

"Let him go. Right now." Dallas growls, blowing air from his nostrils in frustration.

"I don't know, man- he looks pretty tasty, don't you think?" The punk on my left laughs to the one on my right, still holding onto my arms. I wince at his comment, letting a lonely tear fall from my cheek.

I see Dallas's face grow red, and he bares his teeth as he finally loses it. He grabs the one on my left by the shirt collar and delivers a solid blow to the side of his jaw, sending him flying into the pole behind him. He hits his head on the metal, and crumples into a ball on the ground. The punk on my right twists my arm backwards, making me cry out. His free hands reveals a switchblade directly under my nose.

"don't step any closer... or your little bitch here gets it." He sneers with a horrible smirk. Dallas looks at me helplessly.

"l-leave him alone. He didn't do nothin'. We're just trying to get to the car." He pleads. The blade gets ever closer to my neck. His hand trembles.

"wes, leave 'em alone..." A quiet voice slurs behind us. One of the sitting punks in the vest speaks up, still holding his head down. He sounds incredibly tired. His hair is black and wild, touching his shoulders in a mullet shape. I can see the needle scars up his arms. He must be coming down from a high, his expression is pained and he's sweating.

"What, shephard?" Wes barks at him. Shephard...?

"I said leave 'em alone- They was just walkin'- go on, man..." He bends his neck and leans his head back against the wall with his eyes closed. Holy shit. I recognize him. I could recognize him anywhere.

Wes grunts, before throwing me forward onto the ground in front of Dallas. Dally immediately bends down to my level, picking me up by the back as Wes storms off around the corner. Dally gets me to my feet, then hugs me close with shuddering breaths. I cry a little more into his comforting chest.

"Guys!" Johnnys voice rings out towards the station. We turn around to see Johnny driving the truck.

"Come on, get in!" Dallas leads me to the passengers seat and lays me down. He holds me around my back as he climbs in as well.

"I'm so sorry, baby, let's get you home. You aren't hurt, just a little shaken up, it's ok, doll... shhh-" Dallas pets my head comfortingly.

When the door closes, I peek out the window through my now drying eyes.

The boy sitting against the wall, with the strange clothes and hair, covered in scratches and needle scars, sleeping homeless in a bus terminal with a strange gang- is Curly Shephard.

My eyes lock with Curly's as Johnny starts the truck again, starting to drive away. He is the first to break the stare, looking down at his tattered shoes on the concrete. I swear I could see a lonely tear fall from his eye.

•••
{1829 words} I haven't had as much motivation to write, but now I've got some clear stories in mind, so expect some more frequent updates! Also, 2k reads... you guys are amazing. Thank you so much!
Love, Matty-
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