Just gonna stand there, and watch me burn, But that's alright, because I like, the way it hurts, Just gonna stand there, and hear me cry, But that's alright, because I love, the way you lie, I love the way you lie

Angela Shepard had moved on from this earth. Where she ever ended up, I won't know for some time. In my eyes, I see her as so many people have called her. She's looking down on us. She sees her brothers and the pain and suffering in their eyes. From up there she can now see past Tim's wall. She understands him now, and she understands what she didn't for so many years. She can see the love he really had for her.

Her son is down here with us. I'd like to think she looks over him more than anyone else. This child is going to go through life without a mother; a prime caregiver. He witnessed the most horrific thing anyone could witness. He watched his mother die. God has looked over that poor child for years. It's someone else's turn now.

I was going to look after that kid. Tim would be good to him too. I'd make sure he was if nothing else. He wouldn't have to go through what Angela went through for years. That was one of the few things she really wanted; a better life for her child. A life she couldn't have. A life full of happiness.

Tim has a court hearing coming up soon. His attorney thinks he's got a good chance of being let off easy. He doesn't talk much anymore. When I say he doesn't talk much, I mean not at all. He's holding back a lot. He's going to break one day... the question is: who'll be there to pick up the pieces?

Curly is different. He reminds me a lot of Ponyboy. Sure he isn't nowhere near the sunset watching boy I call my brother, but he does feel things like Ponyboy. He doesn't show it, but deep down you can see it. His sister is gone too. It's something a lot of people have looked past. It's all about Tim in the Shepard world now. Maybe someday someone will see who Curly Shepard really is. Maybe one day he'll step out of his big brother's shadow and finally be able to go through life as his own person.

The nightmares are still there. Some nights it's all I can see when I shut my eyes. Her panic-stricken look etched across her features, Jeff's eerie cracked smile, the sound of a gun ringing through a room. These are the things I see when I lay alone at night. Sleep isn't my friend these days.

Jeff's gone. Sometimes I still think I see his shadow lurking around in my room at night, but he's to dust. My eyes witnessed his body being lit in flames. Not a tear was shed from those same eyes as I watched justice be served. Jail wouldn't have had this much satisfaction out of it. Jeff didn't belong in jail. Jeff belonged in hell. And that's exactly where he'll spend eternity. The beast is dead.

My mind is slowly blocking some of the events that happened. Darry says it's just the body's way of protecting itself. He says time heals all wounds. Even the deepest of wounds. Wounds like mine.

Sometimes, though, it takes events like this to wake people up. It's something like God just grabbing you by the shoulders and telling you to get your shit together.

Some listen, and some refuse to face the truth of how fucked up it really is.

I've been granted a once in a life chance. A get out of jail free card... and I'm not wasting a minute of it.

I know the boy who stands tall beside me. My skin hums when I am around him. The rest of the world seems so much duller in comparison to the long nights I've spent lying next to his warm, naked skin. To share his joys and pain because it seems to enhance his smile that melts my heart. When I'm at my darkest, he makes me light up. I would sacrifice anything to keep him with me. He's proven the same, though he'd never admit it.

Dally isn't a cold child who doesn't care about anyone but himself. He isn't someone who is "never nice". He isn't someone who doesn't love anyone or anything. He keeps his exterior hard and cold. He walks like he doesn't have a care in the world when, really, he has too many to count. He hides tears and sadness behind yells and screams. He refuses to admit feeling, for fear of not getting anything in return.

Over these last few months, I've gotten to know a different person than what all the scenarios point him as. Dally may not be like Ponyboy and sit out watching sunsets and talking about books. He may not be like Randy and drive a mustang and dress sharp and know all the right things to say, he may say things without thinking, react totally on anger rather than using his head, and sometimes he may step over the line.

But this is Dally.

I cannot make him into a prince charming. He'll never be the boyfriend who has his girl's family swooning over him. He'll never be the guy that will cry with me when I'm upset. He'll never be the boy who tells me he loves me every day. But you know what, that's fine by me.

Some may wonder why I put up with someone so cold. Who wouldn't want a guy telling them every second how much they mean to them and how much they love them? Those guys may mean it or not; I wouldn't doubt some of them do, but do their lovers feel what I feel with Dally? I'd rather have a man who'd never say they loved me over one who does and then turns around and fucks the nearest whore.

Dally may not say it much; let's be honest - he doesn't. But on those small occasions where the word slips out, I feel it. Looking into his eyes, seeing the way he smiles when I'm around, hearing his laugh; they make me feel more than words can say. I feel how much Dally loves me. I can see it.

We fight, claw, and yell till we're hoarse. We throw things, punch holes in walls, shove, push, scream. I used to think this wasn't what a real relationship is all about. That's what we're taught anyway. A guy is never supposed to call a girl out when she deserves it, and he's never supposed to tell her she's wrong or even raise his voice at her. As little girls we are designed to find a man who will treat us like queens, whether we deserve it or even if they love us or not. Then in return we're supposed to treat these men like kings.

Over time you learn to feel things that society has protected you from feeling. You find that the town beast is making your heart beat a little faster and not out of fear, but because of something else. You find who people think you should be with aren't the ones that make you feel the things you feel for someone else; someone who is wrong for you.

Society has made us think that living with a man who isn't proper is wrong.

Fuck society.

The man standing beside me, he may not be the most charming, proper, kind, or even the most nicer smelling. He may be the one who'll yell over the stupidest argument if he's sure he's the one that's right. He's the man who'll call me out when I need it the most...

And he's mine. He's the one I want.

I know who Dallas Winston is. I know I cannot change him. He's made me stronger. He's made me see things differently. I see that love doesn't always mean sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes you have to go through the hard stuff to see the good stuff. Sometimes yelling is needed. Sometimes people fight. But sometimes, those same people get in bed at night and feel something they cannot break themselves from.

The same thing I feel with Dally.

We may not get married. We may not run away together. But for the moment, I'm madly in love with this man, and I'm not giving that up without a fight...

And neither is he.

"Are you ready?" I asked the three men standing beside me.

They all looked towards the majestic sunset and nodded. The tall grass sounding the meadow weaved back and forth as the wind blew. All you could see way green for miles. Miles of never ending beauty.

She would have wanted it here.

I rubbed the patterns on the side of the jar. They were flowers. Flowers were her favorite.

In the jar was darkness and dust. That's all that was left of her; this beautiful angel that had long left us. This angel that was finally going to be set free. She was going to be free from her pain.

"Bye, Ang," I whispered through streaming tears. "I love you, babe. Don't forget that, okay?"

I turned and passed the jar down the assembly line of men standing beside me.

Tim pushed it by, refusing to touch it, letting it fall into Curly's hands.

No one said anything. Tim knew who he was, and I guess he knew what was best for him. Right now, though, he wasn't Tim. Tim was left back at the church. Time can only tell if he'll ever return.

"Hey, kid," Curly spoke softly. "Take care of yourself. Don't get too crazy up there in the big house."

I grabbed on to Dally's arm, refraining from crying anymore. This was the right thing to do. It was time for the tears to dry. It was time to let the angel free.

"Ready?" Curly asked, taking in a big sigh.

In sequence, we all nodded. It was time.

Gently, Curly twisted the top of the cap of the urn, breaking its seal.

I grabbed hold of Dally's waist. He put an arm on my shoulder and blew out a breath of smoke form his cigarette, remembering the events we all surpassed that dreadful day, and the one who wasn't so lucky.

The wind's speed picked up. It was only a matter of time before we'd have to let go. We all had to let go of this girl. A girl whose life was cut short because of some monster with a gun. One of the many mistakes she had made caught up to her; if only she had more time to learn from them.

Angela had been my best friend since I was a child. I'd seen her grow up; I grew up with her. She may have come across as a bitch at times, and most people had her painted as a no good whore. But like Dally, she was much more than that.

She was my best friend, and I'll never forget her.

Curly looked over at us one last time, asking for approval.

I nodded my head - as did Tim. We all knew this was it. It was time to let go of the girl who'd impacted our lives so much. A girl who will be forever loved and missed.

Curly tipped the jar to its side, allowing the breeze to catch what was left of her and let her ride. Every piece that was left of her was swept away as the wind carried her on its back.

We all stood back and watched Angel's ashes pass through meadow, taking her off into a better place. A place will she will no longer be in pain or have a care in the world.

She's safe now. No one's going to hurt her...

She's gone.

Once the ashes had been sped out and nothing was left, Tim turned on his heel and started towards his car.

I couldn't stand to watch him anymore. The pain just seeped off of him when he entered a room. He had a lot resting on him. Some stuff I don't know if he'll ever overcome. We can only pray. Pray.

"I love you," I whispered into the air. "I love you, Angela. I'll never forget you. I promise."

Dally finished up his weed and threw it in the nearby grass. "Ready to go?"

I looked around him at Curly. He had his head down and was slowly turning to follow his big brother. "You gonna get home alright?" I asked.

He wiped his face and nodded. "Yeah, Tim's got it."

I watched as he left, trying to hide his tears before he stepped foot in his brother's car. He needed help too. They both needed a lot of help.

"Ready?" Dally pushed again.

Slowly, I turned and looked up at him. The sparkle in his eyes beamed down at me. A slick smile came across his face, after which I knew a smirk would follow.

This was Dally. My Dally. The Dally I was in love with.

I pulled him down to my level, pushing his lips upon mine. I let him rest there - just feeling his lips on mine and feeling my stomach do flips, trying to keep up with my heart.

You could not describe what I feel at this moment in four letters. No one could.

"I love you." I pulled away from his sweet touch. "Dally, I love you."

He reach up and gently brushed a lose piece of hair out of my face. "Let's go home."

Hands joined, we walked across the cool meadow, letting the wind blow our hair. The sun set behind us. Slowly, it went down, making everything dark again.

I don't know what it is about this boy holding my hand. I may never know what it is I'm truly attracted to. But whatever it is, I love it. I love the way you scream, the way you squeeze me tight, the way you push me to my limits, the way you make pull my hair out with anger, the way you touch me, the way it hurts, the way you love me. I love everything...

I love the way you lie.

Just gonna stand there, and watch me burn, But that's alright, because I like, the way it hurts, Just gonna stand there, and hear me cry, But that's alright, because I love, the way you lie, I love the way you lie, I love the way you lie

Author's note: And that's all she wrote. I hope this ending wasn't too sappy or boring. I thank you all for reading this again and to everyone who gave me so many reviews. They truly helped me keep going on this. So thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart. I'm really sad that it's done. I thank you all, once again, for your time.

Major thanks goes out to you taryn at six for all she's done to help me on this story. She is an amazing beta reader and writer. She is a really talented girl and amazing to work with. This story would not be what it is now without all her help. Thank you SO much Taryn!

So, ahem, I'm not done yet, so just hold up. I've still got a little something up my sleeve... and so does Danni and Dally. ;) I couldn't just let their story die. Look out for the next story in this saga: Light up the Fire, coming this fall!

In the meantime, I am doing a short story of one-shots about Tim called, Take the Long Way Home. These are the events of his life after this story. It starts to lead into the next saga and should be up shortly.

Also coming soon: Is There Anyone Out There? I'll have that up shortly as well. Some of you have asked for it so I'm going to write it. ;)

Go to my profile for a link to the full trailer of, Light up the Fire. Please note that there are new OCs in the trailer so you must look at the pictures on my profile first or you will get confused. :)

Without further ado, here's the sneak peak of, Light up the Fire. Again thank you all so much,

Good night to you, but not to me. – Arney, Gilbert Grape.

XX

Everyone's searching for something in Tulsa, whether it's love, happiness, or just a way out. Changes are happening this time. Will everyone find what they are searching for, or will they just get caught up in the fire? How will it all turn out when some long lost people are now throw into the mix? Will the love between lovers be broken, or will it be born again? What will happen when the line between greasers and socs is broken again? Can everyone make it through? Or will someone get burned?

XX

I never imagined that this would happen, but here I am. I'm stuck in this hole I've dug. He warned me. He told me what would happen if I didn't stop. This is what I get. I never thought I'd go this far. The line between greasers and socs was broken once. Why did it have to break again?

I once knew the man who sat in front of me. He was once my everything. So many nights we spent together, I thought I knew him. How can I decide what's right when he's always there looking over me? No one can win this never-ending, losing fight. In the end we all lose. How did we get here? I thought I knew him. He was no man, he never was. Him and all those people he calls his friends, are pure evil. That's all they are.

"Do you see what we've done? Is this what it's going to take to end this? Will this ever end? Someone's life is on the line because of what you've done, what we've done." I announced.

He refused to look my way. He knew it was just as true as I did.

"How did we let it get this far?" I peered up and looked at the guy standing in front of me. Sweaty hair hung in front of my dirt covered face.

He didn't answer. Instead he slipped his hands in his pockets and sighed.

"Look at what we've done." I breathed out. "He's dead because of us! Dead!"

"You think I don't know that?" Anger beamed in his cold eyes. "We screwed up ok?"

I shook my head. "No, no we didn't screw up!" I got up from the hard floor and raced over to him. "This is all your fault and those people you call your friends!"

He gripped hold of my arms and tried to stop me. "Calm down! I'm sorry ok? How many fucking time do I have to say it?"

I pulled away and brushed through my hair. I was sick of that word; sorry. No one ever meant it. "He's dead," I repeated. "We killed him."