<Chris's POV>

That night will never leave my brain. Dallas's last harsh words to Johnny, the deafening sound of that gunshot, the screams of my friends downstairs and the cries from the children in my arms. I can still feel my feet slamming on the step as I sprinted downstairs and out the front door into the cool October night air. I had sprinted straight out into the road, but skid to a stop upon seeing Johnny's body, lifeless on the pavement. I remember every detail.

Dallas was on his knees, his hands pulling desperately, harshly, at his hair, as if he was trying to remind himself this was real or perhaps trying to wake himself up, as if this horrible event was a dream. Pony had thrown his body over Johnny's corpse. His pale face was tucked into Johnny's shirt, his hand gripping tightly onto the black fabric. I can still hear the sound of his unstoppable tears. Skyler was a few feet behind them, dropped down onto her knees, her head deep in her hands, her body racked with violent sobs. Steve made an attempt to chase the mustang that was speeding away into the distance. His feet moved impossibly last, slapping the pavement. Two-Bit had caught him from behind. He wrapped his arms around Steve from the back and they both came tumbling down to the cold hard ground, engulfed in tears. They did not move for a very long time. Soda, my poor Soda sought out comfort, as always, in his big brother. Darry, unable to look in the direction of the body, wrapped his arms around Soda, shielding both of them from the vision that I know would have otherwise been seared into the back of their eyelids. Leala stayed in the doorway for a while, frozen. Eventually she retreated back into the house, as if nothing was happening out here. Denial, I don't blame her. Lena stayed upstairs with the children, holding them close to her, around her own pregnant belly.

As for me. I did nothing. How could I do anything, the damage is already done, Johnny is gone, and we are the only ones who are going to miss him.

<Skyler's POV>

Six days later.

The rift is as bad as ever. Socs and Greasers are at each others throats once again. They beat up Johnny, Johnny tried to get them arrested, they killed Johnny. Now that tensions are high, we are going back to our roots. Rumble at midnight, tomorrow. At first I had opposed the idea with all of my being. Kicking the shit out of one another will not solve anything, but as the fight approaches I find myself looking forward to hurting them. Suddenly I crave the fight. I want to hurt them for what they did to Johnny. I want them to hurt more then we are hurting. And I am going to make sure that happens.

Dallas wants the same thing. He shoved down the sadness deep within himself and instead focuses on the anger. Anger at himself yes, for his last words to Johnny, but mostly anger towards the socs that killed him. He is not himself, but none of us are. Johnny wasn't himself the night he died, but I am starting to understand why more and more. He was alone. We all had a person, a best friend, a partner, a sibling. Johnny had no one. No family, his best friend lives halfway across the country. Sure he had us, but we were all so preoccupied. For fucks sake, we didn't even see him leave that night that he lied to the cops. He left the house and we did not even know it. I don't blame him for being bitter, not one bit. Dallas has come to realize this too, which just hurt him more. He will never stop regretting those last words, never. But it's to late now, whats done is done.

I know for damn sure that Johnny knew we all loved him, he knows Dally did not mean it, and Soon Dallas will believe me when I tell him that. But for now, we will fight, we will fight for Johnny, in honor of him. That is all we can do after all.

The cops are still sorting out Johnny's claim that the Socs killed his father, but they have made no legal action yet. I suspect they will want to question us now that Johnny is dead. I imagine they will wait until after the funeral. The funeral. It will be two days from now, after the fight. None of us are ready quite yet, maybe post rumble we will feel more up to it, maybe.

Pony I know won't be. He has locked himself in his room. He has not gone back to school yet like he was supposed to. He hasn't eaten or showered or anything. Pony won't come to the fight, I know it. That is not his scene, he is to peaceful of a person, and much to broken. Frankly, I do not blame him, not one bit.

I put the kids to bed, shutting the light off and closing to door quietly. My feet carry me into the living room of our home. I find Dallas on the couch, looking down at something. I see in his hands is a black handled switchblade. Johnny's. I stand behind him as he sits, and place my hands on his broad shoulders. "Thought this was a hands only fight, no dirty moves," I say quietly. Dallas sighs.

"I never used to care," he mumbles, putting the blade back in its case, "I guess everything is different now." My heartstrings pull. I hate to see him like this. 

"I'm sorry Dallas, I'm so sorry," I tell him for probably the millionth time. I feel so useless when it comes to helping Dally. I am just so used to him helping me, not the other way around. He leans his head towards his shoulder, resting it on my head. He then reaches his hand up and grabs the hand he isn't resting on. 

"Don't work yourself up doll," is all he says. I force myself not to cry. It is one of the hardest things I have ever done. "Come lay with me?" He half asks. I do not say anything in response, just walk around the couch. Dallas turns and lays on his side, I follow suit, laying on my right side, facing him and his deep, hollow eyes. His arms curl around me and pull my body into his. I am so small in comparison, my boney frame becomes absorbed by his body. Dallas burrows his face deep into my shoulder, nuzzled into my black hair. I feel him take a deep breath in, and then, Dallas Winston, my Dallas, begins to cry. He becomes engulfed in the tears, his body racked with sobs. I feel him taking short breathes, in-between tears. I wrap my arms tighter around my husband. I can not help it anymore, and I begin to cry with him. 

One of the strongest connections you can feel with person is crying together. So vulnerable and open. You do not need to say anything to each other. You just cry, and understand why one another feel the way you do. 

Dallas has been so angry, prepping for the fight, he hadn't broken down yet. I was beginning to think he was so angry he was going to explode. I thought he would go on a rampage and rob stores, or leave town, or cause trouble with he cops like he used to. But he did not. He has grown up, and now he can show his hurt. I recall something Buck said to me, back at our wedding,  "you saved him, made him the man he was meant to be." I have said it a thousand times and I will say it again. This is who Dallas truly is, it just took him awhile to get here. 

After there are no tears left to cry, I coax Dallas into standing. I wrap my arms around him and give him a hug. He rests his head on mine and I take a deep breath, catching a whiff of just Dally, before whispering, "lets go to bed baby." We pull apart, though I keep my arm around his waist, and I lead him towards our bedroom. I pull his shirt over his head and he drops his jeans on the ground. I pull off my clothes and sit not the side of the bed, naked, looking for my sleeping shirt under my pillow, but I do not find it there. In the few moments my skin is bare Dallas pulls me close to him, sitting me in his lap. He runs his hands along my body, bones protruding and broken. His lips kiss my shoulder and arms and chest. 

"Baby," he whispers in a mumble, "I can't lose you." I know what he is referring to. Over the past eight months I have been trying desperately, not to just gain weight back, but develop a healthy relationship with my body, and food. When I am under stress I stop eating, when I am sad I stop, when I am angry I forget to eat, when I am tried then I will sleep instead of eat, and the biggest killer, when I hate myself I don't eat. It is a long road to recovery, over the past eight months I have gained only ten pounds. Its slow progress, but eventually I will learn to be good to myself. I never have been, even before I moved to Tulsa. For some reason the scars on my skin look more prominent lately. The old stretched pink scars remain on my body, and probably always will. I have not harmed myself with a blade in years. All thanks go to my children and Dallas for that.

Dallas kisses my wrists and my thighs and my calves, my protruding knees. "I can't lose you too Skyler Elizabeth, please, it'll break me," his eyes meet mine, "it will break me." I begin to cry again, and so does he. Dallas pulls the blanket over our entangled bodies, and slowly we cry ourselves to a restless sleep, full of nightmares, full of hate, and anger, but mostly, sadness.

The night of the rumble.

Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it. It is that feeling you get as a pregnant mother when you know something is not right with the baby. I do not know what is going to happen, I just know it will not be good. 

In a trance I pull jeans over my hips and a tank top over my head. I dress my fingers in rings, hoping that it will give me a slight advantage. My hands pull the black mop of hair on my head into a ponytail. I stare at myself in the mirror. Bags hang darkly under my eyes, my skin is dry, and I look so frail. This is a horrible idea. People will want to come after me first, I'm the smallest, the easiest to pray on, the easiest to beat. I have been in rumbles in the past, but this is different. Now there is death on the table. We are going out for blood all of us. Not just us greasers, the socials are as ready to kill as we are, and it terrifies me. If I wan't so angry, I would be against fighting, but I want to see them bleed for what they did to Johnny.

I turn around and see Dally slipping on jeans and a tee shirt, a stoic look on his face. It is going to be scary to see him fight tonight, because this isn't Dallas, this is some crazy alter ego, and it is fuming. I pick up my black leather jacket and throw Dallas his own. He catches is swiftly and slips it on without a word. I do the same. We don't take each other's hands as we walk out of our room. Not even when we get our four children from their room. Not when we pile them in the backseat of the car, and certainly not while I drive. We are just to angry, to angry for affection. We arrive at the Curtis's, our eyes avoiding that spot in the street, the spot where it happened. The spot where there is still a faint stain from blood.

I take Kaya in my arm and hold Tibby's hand as she walks with me towards the house, Dallas trailing behind with the twins. Tibby babbles to me, "why are we at Uncle Darry's?"

"Because Uncle Pony is going to watch you while mommy and daddy go out," I tell her.

"Is Josh gonna be there mommy, and Weshley?" Tibby asks, struggling to pronounce her cousins name.

I nod, "yes baby, and Henry, and Lynn too, you're gonna have a fun time," I tell her. She just giggles and jumps in front of me, wanting to open the door herself. She does and lets me walk in with Kaya. I ruffle her hair and help her hold the door for Dally who is holding the twins hand's as they walk with much struggle. They can walk, but it is still that walk where they are kind of all over the place. With my whole family in the house I look up at the gang. There is music playing from the radio, but no one is getting amped up. I will say it again, this is not like other rumbles. There is no wrestling or yells of excitement, we are all serious, no smiles present in the room. Tibby runs to Josh first and they giggle as they fall to the ground. I smirk for a second while I bounce Kaya on my hip. She just grabs at my hair, wanting to play with it. I see Chris and Lena sitting on the couch chatting. Neither of them will be in the rumble, considering they are almost ready to pop. They said they want to come though, so they will stay in the car, keeping watch on us. Ponyboy, just as I assumed is staying here with all of the kids. He needs to grieve, not to fight. The rest of us are all in. Buck is with us too, along with Tim and Curly Shepherd and some of their guys. They are meeting us at the lot where the socs will drive soon after. I look to Dallas and he looks at me, he just looks grim, reaches into his pocket and lights a cigarette. For once, Darry does not say anything about it. None of us really smoke anymore, because of what happened to me, but tonight I know they need it. I walk away from the smoke and find Pony. He is sitting alone in his room, Lynn on the bed next to him, picking at the small threads in Pony's blanket. 

"Hey Pone," I say quietly. He smiles grimly at me and reaches out his hands. I hand him Kaya and he holds her tight to his chest. 

"I don't wanna talk, Sky, but I love you and I hope all goes well tonight," he states. I nod my head at him. 

"I love you too Pony," I tell him holding back tears. I know if I stay there we will both breakdown in tears, so I walk out without another word. I rejoin everyone in the living room. Dallas is on the couch with Chris and Lena, Darry standing in front of them. Two-Bit is sitting at the kitchen table with a. beer, watching Henry play with Tibby and Josh. Steve and Soda are talking quietly in the corner, though Soda walks away to go talk with Darry. I take a few strides towards Steve and he meets me in the middle. He smiles at me sadly, "hey Sky."

"Hey buddy," I respond quietly. He bites his lip.

"Listen Sky I've been meaning to tell you, back at your wedding all those months ago, I took a minute to myself away from the group, and these three Socs came up to me, and one of them," he pauses, looking at the floor instead of my face, "one of them was your rapist from the car." My body freezes and I go cold. I do not know how to respond to that. "I had chased them out, I didn't wanna cause trouble, but I just thought I should let you know that if I see him tonight, which I am sure I will, I'm going for his throat," Steve finishes. My hands shake at my sides.

"Steve..." He just grabs my shoulder and gives me a look. A look that says its okay or don't worry. Then he walks away,  leaving me shaking. Steve hugs Dallas on the way out of the door, which I found odd, but I guess death does the tot close friends.

It is time to go. Pony comes out of his room with Lynn and Kaya and plops himself on the couch now that we are all standing and ready to leave. Darry makes sure Pony is okay and knows where everything is. Chris, Soda, Dallas, Two-bit, and I say goodbye to the kids. I take note that Dallas hugs Tibby extra long and gives her a kiss on her soft forehead.

Everyone piles in Darry's truck except for Dallas, Steve, Lena, Two, and myself. We instead get into my car, and I follow Darry down these dark streets to the abandoned parking lot. It is foggy out, the air thick, humid, and cold. It is an eerie scene. As we pull into the lot I see Buck there with the Shepherd's and their guys. Buck is on his knees starting at the fire. By the time we get out of the car flames are licking the air taller than me. It provides light in the darkness of this night, and warmth for that matter. The fall October air brings red to our cheeks and I become grateful for myself for putting on my leather jacket. Steve kisses Lena long and hard, grasping at her waist before she gets back in my car. Chris looks up at Soda and does the same. Soda then kisses her forehead and pulls her into a hug before leading her into my car with Lena. The cars are parked on the perimeter of the lot, close enough to see what is happening, but far enough to be out of danger.

We all greet each other in near silent mumbles, distracted by the fight to come. Tim and curly brought a lot of guys with them. For that I am grateful, considering the socs I am sure will have car loads of people. We begin to form a line, kind of like a defensive line. Leala stands at Darry's side, though Darry keeps close to Soda, who is next to Steve, his fists at his sides. Two-Bit stands in-between Steve and I. He gives my hand a tight squeeze as the Socs begin to pull into the lot. I look at Two and see the man, the father, he has grown into, and I nod my head. He releases my hand and I look ahead again. Dallas's palm rests on the small of my back, probably the first time we have touched all day. He does not look at me yet, just says, "stay close to me Skyler Elizabeth." I look up at him and he finally looks down at me. 

"I'll watch your back," I mutter. Dallas bites the inside of his cheek.

"For Johnny." Darry must of heard him, because as the Socs approach us he raises his voice, staring the Socs dead in the eyes.

"For Johnny." Darry turns to me and smirks, then I become absorbed in madness. I lose track of who is who. A boy probably Chris's age bears down on me, letting his fists fly. I'm lucky to be fast, not strong anymore, but fast. I avoid his punches swiftly and lay a fist into his eyes. I use tactics Dallas taught me years ago. I have to use my boney body to my advantage. Use my knees and my elbows. I bring my knee into his gut and while he is hunched over I slam my elbow into the back of his skull. He falls to the ground, into the mud. It is only now that I notice it is raining. The dirt alongside the lot has turned to muck, the fire begins to fade into thick clouds of smoke. 

Suddenly a hand grasps my ponytail and pulls me down into the pavement. My skull cracks against the pavement. My vision blurs slightly, but not enough for me to lose sight of the sneaker clad foot slamming into my side. I grunt in pain and slam my foot up into my attackers hip. He steps back for a moment, but retaliates quickly by bringing his foot hard into my jaw. My body rolls onto my stomach and I spit blood onto the wet, cracked pavement. He brings his foot unto my gut yet again, and I swear my body actually rises into the air, off of the ground, from the force. I couch blood into my shirt and look up to see Buck smash his fist into my attackers face. With that single punch, the man falls to the ground. Buck grabs my hand and yanks me up, saying nothing before returning to the fight around us. In the spare moment I have, I grab my gut and look around. I have never seen such craziness in my entire life. Everyone has themselves thrown into a fist fight. I see Dallas my the cloud of smoke from the fire, not far from me. He is hitting with such ferocity it scares me. He yells with every punch as it lands on the Socs faces. There is blood dripping from his forehead into his right eye. I turn my gaze to Leala and Darry, staying close to each other, Leala using similar tactics to those I utilize. Soda is not far from Darry, as I am sure Darry asked him to stay close. I look around desperately, beginning to feel fear, for Steve. I can not see him anywhere. After what he said to me about going for my rapists throat I start to panic. I turn in every direction trying to track him down, but he is nowhere to be found. In the midst of my panic I catch sight of a man pushing Dallas. he is pushing him into the still lit embers of the fire. I sprint through soaked, writhing bodies, trying to get to Dallas. Elbows and knees his me as I do so, but I do not stop. As Dallas hits the hot embers, I slam my body into the man that pushed him. The two of us hit the ground and start to go at each other. My hair, now pulled out of the ponytail falls into his face as I hover over him. He grabs at it and pulls, hard. I scream and wrap my hand around his jaw, attempting to push myself away from him. My hand slips up towards his lips and he jaw closes tightly around my hand. Blood trickles down my hand as he bites down. A scream erupts from my mouth and I give up and let him roll on top of me. His rough hand wraps around my throat, choking me out. As he pins my neck to the ground with that hand his other hand lays harsh punches on my face. My body begins to go limp on the hard ground. Black spot pop up in the corners of my vision and odd sounds leave my constricted throat. Suddenly his body is lifted off of me and thrown to the side a few feet from me. I cough aggressively and rub my throat. I see Dallas kneel over the mans body. Dallas's fist slams down into the guys face with such force that blood spurts from his nose, lip, eye brow, everywhere. With blood seeping from his mouth, the man falls unconscious and Dallas stands, coming over to my and pulling me up. "You okay?" he asks, holding my sides, long wet hair falling into his eyes. I nod frantically, still catching my breath. Before I can say anything else I catch the glimpse of a man with black hair stuck to his forehead throwing punches, kicks, everything he has at a Soc. Steve. Adrenaline courses through my veins as I watch Steve and the Soc, no... Jake. I remember waking up in the backseat of that car, only the Soc in the in there with me. Chris and I had gone to see a movie and we were attacked and separated. I woke up on that cold leather and he greeted me, "oh good you're awake, my name's Jake." My blood had gone cold as he touched me, violated me, hurt me. And there he is, throwing hands with Steve across the lot.

This is it. This is the bad thing I felt was going to happen. The combating bodies around me move as if in slow motion. Dallas turns his head to what I am staring at, his hands still on my hips. Steve pulls something out of his pocket. It glimmers in the misty rain and light of the moon. I see Dallas reach into his Jacket pocket and pull his hand out, his palm empty. I look back to Steve, he has Johnny's blade, pointed and at the ready in his hand. As Steve begins to bring the blade towards Jake's throat I catch sight of another glistening blade. This one in Jake's hand, pointing at Steves gut. A scream once again erupts from my mouth and Dallas's hands slip from my waist as my feet carry me across the lot. Everything still seems to be moving slow, as if in a dream. I see Lena jump out of the car, holding her pregnant belly and running to Steve as Jake's knife plunges into his abdomen. She screams in worry, and I see Chris yelling protests at her from the car. Lena makes it to Steve much before me. I am ripping the the tangled mess of punching bodies to get to him while she has a clear shot. Lena shoves Jake off of Steve as Steve plummets to the ground holding the wound and dropping Johnny's blade next to him. Lena turn back to Steve and crouches over him, rubbing his face in worry. She is so consumed that she doesn't see Jake pick Johnny's blade up from the pavement. She does not see him prepare to stab into the flesh of her back. I won't make it to her in time, there are to many bodies in my way. I can't watch another friend die, especially not at the hands of my rapist. I scream desperately for Lena to turn around, but it is to no avail. She does not hear me. I want to close my eyes, to not watch, but I can't look away. Jake raises the blade high and begins to bring it down towards her. Before my last scream of despair leaves my mouth, something else happens. Darry comes out of nowhere and leaps in front of Lea. There is a look on his face. The expression that tells me Darry knows what he has done, and he knows he won't be coming out of it alive. The sharp blade plants itself right into Darry's chest. Directly into his big beautiful heart. My body goes numb as I watch Darrel Curtis drop to his knees. I don't feel my legs move, or my arms pushing people out of the way. I don't feel it when I push Jake into the ground, or when my ring clad fists slam into his face, over and over again. I only feel the scream leave my body, the effort of it piercing through my windpipe like hot metal. My body loses control as I keep hitting him and hitting him. I want him to hurt. Not just fro Me, but for Darry. Eventually Jake stops moving. But I don't I can't. I just keep hitting him, hoping it will make me feel any better. I finally begin to feel the hot tears stream down my face, mixing with my blood. I finally feel hands pull me off of his lifeless body. 

The next thing I see is Soda, approaching us, approaching Darry's body on the ground. I don't want to see any more of it, so I close my eyes.