Dallas Winston was sitting in the hospital cafeteria, munching on a bland ham sandwich, when he heard a rough voice call his name.

He whipped his head around to see an old friend of his in a wheel chair, wheeling over to him. Dallas smirked, "Fuckin' Shepard." He shook his head and chuckled. "What the hell happened to you?"

Tim Shepard scoffed, "I'd like to ask you the same thing, shithead." He pointed to Dally's bandages.

Dallas looked down at himself, then back to Tim. "Didn't ya hear?"

"Yeah, yeah. Ol' Dally had a shoot off with the fuzz. I saw it in the paper. Congrats kid."

"So," Dallas took another bite of his sandwich. "what's your story?"

"Ah, nothin' tuff. Buck Merril and I got in an argument, and long story short, he stabbed me in the leg." He patted his right thigh which was wrapped in bandages.

Dally smirked and nodded his head. Then he pulled out the pack of Marlboros Ponyboy gave to him.

"Jesus Christ," Tim moaned, "gimmie one of those man. I haven't smoked in two days. I'm dyin' in this damn place."

Dallas tossed him a cigarette with a lighter that he stole from an elderly man in the hospital.
Tim tossed the lighter back and they both blazed up.

"Man," Tim sighed. "Hey, would ya look at that, they've started puttin' up Christmas decorations."

Dally turned to follow Tim's gaze. A rope of tinsel was strung across the mantel of the fireplace in the lounge area. There were also reeves being put up on the exit doors. "Damn," Dally breathed, "It's Christmas time already? I swear it was Halloween yesterday."

"Time flies." Shepard dragged his cigarette. He then spotted something underneath Dally's arm. "What's that?" He pointed.

"Huh?" Dallas looked down to the book, Gone With The Wind he had picked up from the little library they had in the building.

"I didn't even know you knew how to read Dal. Say, isn't that a chick book?"

"I'm not readin' it." Dallas defended. "It was for- somethin'...." He didn't know how to explain to Tim that he had seen a ghost, without Tim laughing right in his face.

Tim smirked, but let Dally off easy. Instead, he changed the subject. "Do you believe in God, Dallas?"

Dallas snorted, "If there is one, he probably hates me." He put his cigarette to his lips, and inhaled the nicotine. "Not that I'd care anyway. Why you askin'?"

"I got bored as hell yesterday, so I picked up that Bible they have sitting beside the beds right? I started readin' it, but it just didn't make no sense to me. I mean, how can a guy create the world in fuckin' seven days? Do you know how big this world is? Shit, whoever wrote that damn Bible was probably on crack."

Dallas chuckled at his remark.

"And then that whole Heaven and Hell thing." Tim went on, "How come we gotta do good things, so this guy who supposedly made us can decide whether or not to give us forever happiness- or whatever you call it? And why is it that you don't go to heaven until your dead, you know? What's the point of livin' in the first place?"

"Why do you even care?"

Tim shrugged. "I mean, I'm already livin' in hell as it is, so I guess it don't really matter does it?"

"It doesn't matter cause it probably ain't even real." Dallas was sure of himself.

Tim thought for a moment. "What if your wrong?"

Dally turned to his friend and smirked arrogantly, "Then Hell, here we come."

Tim smirked back and drew another cloud of smoke from his cigarette. "'You ever miss New York?"

Dallas rubbed his chin. "Things were a lot more intense up there. I mean, the stuff that happened was crazy as shit. You'd go to bed one night, then wake up the next mornin', and your whole gang is dead, just cause you didn't pay someone else the money you owed- or somethin' like that." He took a drag, then exhaled more smoke. "So yeah, I do miss it sometimes." He said ironically, which made Shepard chuckle.

Suddenly, the back door to the building flew open, and in came several paramedics with a man in a stretcher. Behind them, a young, red-head girl followed, familiar looking to Dallas.

"Is he gonna be okay?" She spoke between sobs to the paramedics.

One of them answered, "We'll do what we can." And with that, they all rushed to the emergency room, leaving the girl behind. She covered her mouth with her hand, and dropped down to her knees and sobbed harder. Her other hand gripping her stomach.

Dallas nodded his head in her direction. "Hey!" he called out to her, "Strawberry, right?" He smirked.

Lifting her head up, her bloodshot eyes met Dally's, which wiped the smirk right off his face. He saw the immense pain she was in, and stopped the flirtation immediately.
Then she just got up and walked away, not saying anything.

"Strawberry?" Tim questioned.

"Yeah, that's what they call her cause her red-hair. Pretty sure it was Strawberry, or maybe it was Raspberry." He scratched his head.

"Man, she looked upset. Wonder what happened."

"Yeah." Dallas agreed.