All I Crave is Mercy Chapter 15

I sat in the bathroom after Dally left for what felt like hours. Minutes which believably disguised themselves as hours, which in reality were ticking away as quickly as seconds, dragged on durably, and caused me unbearable torture. After everyone had finally gained enough sense to leave me be, they had shut the door to the bathroom and left me to drown, alone, in my emotions and pain.

Ah, pain. There's that uncomfortably familiar word again. It seems to string itself into my sentences, and it's laced rather thoroughly around my vocabulary. At first glance, it's a rather small word; for it possesses only four letters. But it's an unbearably long and ominous word if you look at it properly. If you know what it feels like to be exposed to raw pain, you suddenly learn that there is an evil in the word which you are right to cower from. An evil which should promote fear; fear being another immensely powerful word, even if it does lack a proper amount of letters.

I sat before the toilet in a kneeled position, with my forehead rested on the cold white exterior. Perspiration ran down my face, some of which dripped off the end of my nose after colliding with a lost tear. They both mixed together, creating an unbearably human concoction which rained from my skin and dropped worthlessly into the toilet bowl, which then proceeded to stir unhealthily together with the vomit I hadn't the strength to flush. My throat felt raw and it ached and scratched as I swallowed my distasteful saliva. I'd get lost in my thoughts eventually, only to be woken up by the urge to vomit. I couldn't, however, no matter how desperately I purged, because I simply had nothing left to give.

I'd sit there, helplessly and pathetically gagging, my arms wrapped around my abdomen, my back curving in mock reflection to my stomach, which ached dully.

I heard footsteps echo wearily outside the door, and I closed my eyes, hoping no-one would come in. just as I decided I should've locked the door, someone opened it and walked in somewhat cautiously. I heard a sigh escape their lips as they paused to look at me.

''Johnny.''

It was Dally. He inched his way over and sat down beside me, keeping all his limbs confined to a certain area, as if he were staying inside his own little bubble, and he was afraid to touch me. I backed into the corner of the bathroom, and curled up; my legs pulled up closely to my chest, and I wrapped my arms around my abdomen, resting my head on my knees.

''Johnny, man, I'm sorry.''

I didn't look at him. My head remained unmoved on my knees. I honestly didn't have the energy to move my head.

''I didn't mean to snap at you. I really didn't. I was just… I don't know. I hate how ya keep shit from me. All the important shit, you just go and keep from me. You don't tell me when you feel bad; ya just keep to yourself. And I gotta know this shit, man. You could be real sick. And the doctors said if you got real sick, you'd die. And you… you can't die, Johnny, you just can't. I wouldn't be here without you, Johnny. And if you were to leave me- Fuck. I don't even know.'' He pulled in a deep breath which, to my surprise, almost seemed to quiver. I looked up at Dally. He sat with his knees pulled to his chest now, though they weren't held as tightly as I know sat, and his head was in his hands. His blond hair swooped down in front of his eyes, blocking from me any sort of hint to what he was feeling. I just stared at him. He looked like a wreck. The exact opposite of what I had seen just earlier.

''Look, Johnny, you're all I have left now. You're it. You're where it begins and where it ends for me, because I seriously don't have shit. I don't have parents. I don't have a family. I just have you. But you know what?'' He looked up at me. His eyes weren't bloodshot, but I witnessed a tear slide down his cheek before he brushed it away.

Dallas Winston was crying. For me.

''You know what? It doesn't even bother me. My old man doesn't give a shit about me, I'll bet he doesn't even know I'm gone. Sure, I've got the gang. But their company only goes so far, ya know, man? So that leaves you. You're all I have. And you're probably all I'll ever have. But you're all I need.''

Tears slithered down my cheeks down. No-one had ever made me feel as loved as Dallas Winston. No-one. Ever. He was what filled the huge, gaping hole in my life. He was what held together all the cracks in my reality. He fixed everything. And he was always there for me. I realized now that he always would be. He wouldn't leave me again. He would stay here. With me.

''And I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I'm sorry I left you all alone while you were sick. I'm sorry Buck hurt you when you went to his house to get me. I'm sorry your dad's a piece of shit. And I'm sorry I just said that, I know you don't like me saying shit like that, but it's the truth. And I'm sorry for everything I've ever done to you that hurt you in any way. I'm sorry.''

He looked at me. His eyes were wide in anxiety; he was waiting for my answer. His hair was all in his face, and it cast a lonesome shadow over his elvish features. Another, more noticeable tear dribbled down from his lamenting eyes, and I realized how hurt he looked. I'd never seen Dally look so pathetic. So alone. So hurt. So… like me.

I had scooted over slowly and wrapped my arms around him. He returned the gesture, and I buried my face in his shirt.

''I love you Dallas Winston.''

/

When all was done, and all was forgotten, Dallas Winston remained in the hospital room. He sat beside the bed Johnny Cade had died in, and he cradled his head in his hands. Tears ran depressingly from his raining eyes, which swam with a great sorrow. Whimpers escaped his lips, and echoed through the deserted hospital room.

Johnny Cade had died of the one thing every doctor had warned them of, and he now remained defeated in the morgue of the hospital. If one were to journey down into the deserted morgue, they'd spot him immediately. The emaciated body of a helpless sixteen year old; one whose parents had forgotten him, and would never be attending his funeral. One whose life was one disaster after another. One who had had life thrown on him at an unbearably young age, and who was more familiar with the feeling of pain than any other his age.

Dallas Winston travelled from the hospital to his home, where he knew he had a gun resting silently in a drawer. Grief seemed to drown out every other sense, disabling him from the world as tears snaked down his pale cheeks, and sorrow smeared itself in his dull eyes.

Johnny Cade was the only thing Dallas Winston had ever loved.

And now he was gone.

And there was no getting him back.

He entered the house and made his way to the chest in the back of the gloomy room. He remembered vaguely the last time he had entered the small room. Johnny had been with him. He remembered seeing the look of disgusted surprise in his looming black eyes, and how he had assured Dallas that he was fine with staying here even though it was so obvious that he was not.

Dallas Winston drew the gun from the darkest corner of the drawer, and with his Johnny Cade sitting silently within his thoughts, he shoved it far into his throat.

And he pulled the trigger.

A/N:

And so the fic ends. Thanks so much for reading! I'm really sorry I ended this so abruptly, you probably really hate me for it, but I recently thought of a prompt which I am itching to write out, so yeah. It will be about the Outsiders, and Dallas will be a main character in it.

So anyway, PLEASE REVIEW, tell me what you thought of the fic, tell me if I did good or not. I'd really appreciate it.

Stay gold and stay tuff,

Your's truly,

-Attempting-To-Stay-Gold-