Chapter Text
He wasn’t sure what exactly had woken him up, but as soon as Dallas woke up, he was on high alert.
He could feel the warm weight of Johnny Cade pressed against his side; it had only been a day or two since he was beaten, and Dallas was adamant that he not spend the night alone. He’d been at the Curtises the previous night, but Dally had taken him to Buck’s to stay with him now. He knew Johnny felt guilty about being an extra mouth for the Curtis family to feed. Besides, he liked having the little greaser around.
Johnny was still battered to hell and recovering from a fever. Any sleep he got was usually fitful and Dallas could see it was taking its toll.
He turned his attention to the younger teen at his side; it took him a moment to realize Johnny was trembling. Soft whimpers escaped his lips, and his eyes were squeezed shut.
Dally rolled over a little. The moonlight spilling in from the window illuminated Johnny’s bruised, troubled face. Dally squeezed him a little closer, rubbing his thumb on his shoulder, trying to quiet him. He closed his own eyes again, hoping to drift off again, feeling Johnny’s warm breath against the crook of his neck.
But, mere moments later, Johnny’s cries had increased, and he suddenly sat straight up with a scream.
Dallas jolted awake faster than he’d ever done in his life, even in his time in the cooler. “JOHNNY!”
“NO!” Johnny cried, “get away!” He flung out his fist suddenly, catching Dallas across the face. Luckily for him, their proximity was too close for him to really get any momentum in the hit.
“Shit- Johnny, wake up, man!” Dallas yelled, grabbing his shoulders. With a sharp gasp, Johnny’s big eyes suddenly opened, landing on Dally, as a stream of tears began to paint his cheeks.
“Dal…Dally!” He panted, drawing back.
“Johnnycakes, hey, it’s okay, man!” Dallas reached for him again, this time his hands hovered uncertainly in front of him. At the familiar nickname, Johnny’s eyes softened.
“You’re here?” He whispered.
“Of course I’m here,” Dally lightened his touch, sliding his hands from Johnny’s biceps down to his own slender fingers. “You were just dreamin.’ It’s okay.”
“Did I hit you?”
“Naw, man. I’ve felt worse.”
Johnny looked down at his lap. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, kid. Everything’s alright.” Dallas rubbed a circle on Johnny’s hand with his thumb.
“The Socs…” he choked out, “all I could see were the Socs comin’ at me, and that blue mustang…the headlights were so bright, they were blinding me! I didn’t think…I didn’t think anyone was gonna find me…!”
“Breathe, Johnnycake.”
“I don’t feel good, Dal,” Johnny groaned softly. He was breathing hard. Too hard.
Dally felt his heart break a little as the desperation in his friend’s voice. He never complained. Dally knew if he was willingly admitting to something being wrong, he must really feel bad. Whether it was mental or physical, he couldn’t be sure.
Johnny gasped again, clamping a hand to his belly. “Shit. I’m gonna be sick.” He began to struggle out of the blankets, kicking his legs desperately to free himself.
Johnny bolted to the bathroom, throwing himself to his knees over the toilet. Dally could only wince helplessly at the sound of Johnny’s painful retching.
The poor kid was almost crying in sheer agony when Dally slid behind him, holding his long bangs away from his face while running slow, soothing circles on his back, then flushing the toilet when he was sure he was done. “It’s okay, Johnnycake. Deep breaths.”
Breathing hard, Johnny fell back against Dally’s chest, swiping his hand across his mouth. His ribs had started to heal over the past few days, but now, he wasn’t sure he’d felt anything like the way his bruises throbbed against his spasming stomach muscles.
Dally shushed him gently. “You’ve gotta breathe, kid, you’re getting yourself all worked up.” He gently pried Johnny’s hands away from their grip around his middle, replacing them with his own, rubbing his thumb over Johnny’s stomach slowly.
“I’m…I’m sorry.” Johnny gasped out.
“And would ya quit apologizing? You’re still sick and you’ve got yourself scared to death. It ain’t your fault, so just stop.” Dally said.
“Sor- I mean, yeah, I guess I’m a mess, ain’t I?” Johnny tried to grin, “not lookin’ so tuff now.”
“Cut it out. You’re the tuffest around and you know it,” Dally nudged him before pressing a hand to his cheek, “you’re still warm. No wonder you feel like shit. I’m gonna get you some Advil. Sit up for me, wouldja?”
Johnny nodded a little, though trying to prop him upright by himself was like trying to move a bag of wet rocks. With Dally’s hands under his armpits, Johnny plopped onto his behind with a small groan, rubbing his forehead with one hand. “Don’t run off, okay?” Dally mussed his hair, earning a pout from Johnny.
“Where the hell do you think I’m goin’?” Johnny huffed.
Dally was back in an instant, helping Johnny chug the pills down with a glass of water. “These’ll help soon. Promise.” Dally said gently, hoisting Johnny up and helping him hobble slowly back to bed.
He smirked a little as the younger teen faceplanted onto the mattress. Nudging him over until he was back on the bed fully, Dally watched him stifle a huge yawn, eyelashes fluttering slowly. “Think you can go back to sleep now?”
“Mmm, I’m just gonna wake up and freak out again, Dal. Keep seein’ that damn car.”
“Naw, you ain’t. You’re safe here, Johnnykid. I won’t…” Dally faltered for a second, unused to the tender words coming out of his own mouth. “I won’t let anything happen to ya. They ain’t gonna hurt you again.” With that, he pulled Johnny into his arms, wrapping him tightly and holding him to his chest. Johnny melted into his touch, small shoulders shaking as he struggled to control his emotions. “Shhhhh…” Dally shushed him, feeling the exhausted teen go slack in his arms.
“I didn’t…” Johnny swallowed thickly from against Dallas’s chest, “I didn’t think anyone was gonna find me,” he whispered. “I thought…I thought I might die there on that pavement. And nobody’d find me. Glory, I’d have to be gone for weeks ‘fore my parents even noticed.”
“Hey, you listen to me.” Dally said, grabbing his shoulders and holding him outward, “the gang and I woulda noticed a hell of a lot sooner than that and you know it. Why do you think I was out there in the first place?! I was lookin’ for you! ‘Course we’d find you. We’ll always find you.”
Johnny’s swollen lip was wobbling slightly. “I didn’t even get to put up a good fight.”
“Next time, you’ll get ‘em.” Dally smiled a little. Johnny sniffled, attempting to stop another yawn. “You’re exhausted, kid. Ya gotta sleep.” Dally let out a breath. “Roll over.”
“What?” Johnny said.
“Just do it.”
Johnny obeyed hesitantly, though it took him a while to get his stiff, aching body to comply.
Dallas propped himself onto his elbow and began to play with Johnny’s shaggy black hair absently, twisting the waves between his fingers.
“What’re you doing?” Johnny drawled softly.
“Seen Soda do it to ya before. Knocks you out like a light.”
“Does not!” Came an indignant squeak.
Dallas laughed a little. It was true. Soda was great at comforting people. He’d seen him with Johnny after a particularly bad fight with his folks that way; he’d parked him in front of the TV, turned on a cartoon, and combed Johnny’s hair with his fingers until the kid was passed out cold. Dallas didn’t know why he remembered it, but he did.
“Follow my breathing, okay?” Dallas instructed him, feeling Johnny’s own breath even out as he matched it to Dally’s.
The next time he looked down, Johnny was out like a light. He smirked a little. So it did work.
Man, he thought, if anybody else saw him act like this, he’d have to kill them.
But Johnny was special. The world had kicked him down time and time again, but he remained gentle and kind, which Dallas knew better than anyone wasn’t an easy feat. He wasn’t gonna let the world turn him cold. And if that meant holding him through his nightmares the way nobody else had ever done for him before, then that’s just what he’d do.
Soon, Dallas was asleep himself, hand still resting in Johnny’s hair.
They both stayed that way until well into the next morning.