the outsiders imagines

never let go - dallas

pairing: dallas x curtis reader

warning: arguing

summary: dallas doesn't take care of you like he needs to. but he never wants to let you go

---

"hey, dal? i'm not feelin' so hot," you whisper, barely mustering up enough strength to poke dally in the side. he groans and pulls the covers over his head.

"it's too early, man. you're probably just hungover."

"dal, i wasn't even drinking last night. that was you," you remind him, rolling your eyes.

"leave me alone, let me sleep."

you stare at the lump underneath the covers before turning away. dally never seems to care when you feel sick. once, you had the flu for an entire week and dally barely batted an eye. and he's complained bitterly when you asked him to go out and get a can of soup. not to mention, your request for cough syrup had turned into a yelling match lasting half an hour and resulting in a sore throat for the both of you. but of course, when dally gets even the slightest bit sick, it's a whole different story. he expects you to wait hand and foot, getting him whatever he wants. and you are happy to do that for him. he is the love of your life, after all.

you just wish that he'd show the same amount of concern for you.

"well, i'm goin' home then," you say, forcing yourself out of bed.

"you are home."

"i meant my home home," you reply, referring to the house your three brothers live in. dally doesn't say anything, and continues hiding his face under the blanket. sighing, you quickly pack a bag full of your clothes and walk out the door, pleading your aching body to move.

when you get to your brothers' house, darry is the first one to greet you.

"hell, y/n, you look like death."

well thanks, dar," you retort. "i'm not feelin' too good."

"you got a cold?" he reaches his hand out to touch your forehead, pulling it back immediately. "you're burnin' up! get your ass in here." he pulls you in through the door, shaking his head.

"i've been coughin' and coughin', and my chest hurts. the pain won't leave me alone long enough for me to get a good rest."

"y/n, what happened to you?" your twin brother sodapop walks out of his room, hands deep in his pockets. "you look terrible."

"i think she's got the flu," darry explains.

"where's your boyfriend?" ponyboy says, appearing from the kitchen.

"at his place. told him i felt sick, but he just ignored me."

"this is why i told you not to live with him, let alone fall in love with him," darry remarks. "he don't know the first thing of taking care of someone other than himself. he barely even knows how to take care of himself. i'm glad you came home."

you nod before allowing sodapop to lead you to the bedroom you used to share with him. he helps you into the bed, tucking the blanket tightly around you. "now if ya need anythin, just holler alright? i'm gonna make you some chicken soup." as soda leaves the room, ponyboy strolls in, sitting down at the desk chair in the corner of the room.

"so dal's no good for ya, huh?"

you sigh, unsure of how to respond. sure, dally is nonchalant and slightly insensitive...but you know deep down that he cares for you, that he'd die for you. when you first started dating him, the rest of the gang warned you that whatever you had with dally wasn't going to be a conventional relationship. it was going to be filled with more downs than ups. but despite the gang's advice, you were sure that you two were meant for each other, that with each down would come a chance for reconciliation and strengthening the relationship. and you still believe that. it's just hard to explain that to the people who only see the potential bad, to people who'd come to expect the worst out of everything, to people like darry and sodapop and ponyboy.

you decide not to respond to ponyboy's comment.

"can you make sure soda doesn't put any of his special food coloring in the chicken soup? last time he made it purple, and my friends were askin' about my 'new lipstick' for a whole week," you say. ponyboy chuckles before standing up and leaving the room, mumbling something about sodapop's previous attempts of making green pancakes.

-

your condition only worsens.

now you're having thunderous and unrelenting coughing fits, you feel cold despite it being the middle of august, and sodapop's chicken soup was no longer in your stomach but at the bottom of a trash can. not to mention, your forehead felt like a furnace.

"we're takin' you to the hospital," darry says firmly, despite your protests. "everyone get in the truck."

the next thing you know, you find yourself lying in a white room, darry sitting in the chair next to your bed. a nurse walks in and addresses darry. "mr. curtis, i'm afraid your sister has come down with a rather intense case of the pneumonia. she'll need to stay overnight, so we can monitor her condition."

your two other brothers, for some reason accompanied by steve, come in as soon as the nurse leaves.

"y/n, you okay?" pony asks quietly.

"aw man, look at y/n lookin' all fragile and weak," steve teases. "hey sodapop, you might actually win an arm wrestling match against your sister for once now."

"shut it, randle, or i'll show you just h-" you manage to choke out before having a coughing fit. the boys laugh, but only until you give them a death stare.

"where's dally?" you ask hopefully.

darry shakes his head. "i ain't callin' him. he don't deserve to come visit you anyway."

"you brought steve along but not dally?"

"hey, i was worried about you too," steve mumbles.

"please darry, can you ask him?" you plead with darry to call dally, and despite his initial refusal, he eventually relents.

-

a few hours later, a tall brunette greaser walks into the room, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

"yo, put that out before my sister has a coughin' fit," soda says, a hint of annoyance in his voice. dally shrugs and tosses it out of the window before turning to you.

"what're you in here for, it's just a cold, ain't it?"

"it ain't just a cold, dallas, my sister here has got pneumonia," darry snaps. "not that you even care."

"she's got what?" dally says incredulously. he turns to you. "doll, i didn't realize..."

dally kneels down next to the head of the bed, gently placing his hand on your cheek. you look up at him, seeing pure, unadulterated remorse in his eyes. he doesn't need to apologize, because you can see it etched into his face: quivering bottom lip, eyebrows knitted together, cheeks turning red. this is how dally expresses his guilt, and you don't need to tell him you forgave him, because you know he could see it in your face too. in that moment you decide that it doesn't matter what anyone else thought of your relationship. all that matters is that you understand the boy in front of you, and love him not because of his flaws but in spite of them.

dally stands up and coughs awkwardly, turning to your three brothers. steve, standing in another corner of the room, observes with his arms crossed tightly across his chest. darry glares at dally, while sodapop opts for a milder expression and ponyboy fiddles with his shirt. "i know you think that i'm not good for y/n," dally speaks quietly, "and in some ways, i agree. but she makes me a better person. she makes me want to be a better person."

dally hadn't said much, but it's clear your brothers understand the deeper sentiment his words were derived from. darry nods curtly, but not without a look in his eyes that said if you hurt my sister, i will absolutely, positively, without a doubt end you.

even after your brothers (and steve) go home for the night, dally stays with you. he sits in the chair next to your bed, talking to you in the soothing deep voice you have come to love. at times, he insists on sitting on your bed so he can hold you close to him and rub your back. when you cough, he hands you the cup of water on the little side table and hollers at the nurse to bring more. but he never once lets go of your hand in the time he spends with you. it was as if he is trying to say something through his touch: i've let go before, but never again.