So I didn't expect to be back so soon. I was trying to think of a one-shot or short story to write for Christmas and this is what I came up with. This story will be 5 chapters long. I'm going to try to write it and get it posted before New Years, because who wants to read a Christmas story in January?

The Outsiders and it's characters belong to S.E. Hinton and A Christmas Carol belongs to Charles Dickens.


Dallas Winston was dead. It's important that this is clear before you hear my story.

The gang and I watched our friend Dally get shot down by the cops the night that Johnny died. I still see him crumple under the street light when I close my eyes. Dally had failed to follow his one rule.

"You get tough like me and you don't get hurt."

Dally had cared for Johnny though and he clean lost his mind when he died. He went out and chased down death until it took him.

I'd thought that Dally had it all wrong not caring for anybody letting himself get hard as stone inside but everyday as we get closer to this season, I'm starting to wonder.

Everyday is a day closer to our first Christmas without my parents, Johnny and Dallas, I feel like a little bit of me is dying. There's a cut somewhere in my heart and I'm slowly bleeding out, only no one can see it.

I see them everywhere I look. My mom baking cookies in the kitchen, swaying to the Christmas carols on the radio as she sings along softly. I always thought that she had the sweetest voice in the world. My dad stomping in with his boots calling for his Curtis men to fall in so we could go out and hunt down the perfect tree. Johnny shyly helping to decorate the tree after my dad wouldn't take no for an answer. Dallas refusing to help but accepting a cookie from my mom with a softness in his eyes that I don't think he realized anyone saw.

I don't know how I'm supposed to stand it. I feel like I've cried enough tears to last me my whole life. I'm just plain tired of feeling. Johnny told me to stay gold but as I walked down my street and saw the twinkling of lights in the windows I wanted to double over from the pain.

It started slow. I got in a fight at school. Some soc made a comment about Johnny and before I could really think, I was all over him. All I saw was red. Two-Bit had to drag me off. In that moment I didn't feel lonely, I didn't feel the loss. Feeling angry was easier. Letting the hate burn inside me was easier.

So, I let myself be angry. Angry that my parents had been taken away from me. Angry that Johnny had died. Angry at Dally for getting himself killed.

I stopped trying to avoid fights. I mouthed off more. Stood my ground more.

The trouble was trying to keep it from my brothers. Darry questioned me a few times about busted knuckles or a split lip but it wasn't too hard to blame it on the socs. They usually started it anyway.

I pulled away from Steve first, which really didn't make much difference. We had more of an understanding than before but I was still a tag-along to him and I still didn't like him much. I didn't accept rides to school from him anymore and I steered clear from him in the hallway at school. As long as he didn't see me getting into more fights then he wasn't gonna report back to Soda.

Next was Two-Bit. He tried to get me to hang out with him but I always put him off, giving him one excuse or another .No, I couldn't go out to the strip, I had a test next week. Sorry, I was too tired to play a game of poker. At first he just cracked a joke and grinned widely but as I turned down more and more offers I saw how his smile slipped, how the laughter left his eyes. Two-Bit was a good buddy but I couldn't let myself feel.

Darry was harder. We both had been trying to get along better for Soda's sake. He had finally paid off my hospital bills and was able to work a little less. He had asked me a few times if I wanted to catch a movie. My heart had clenched to tell him no since I knew he was only offering because he knew how I liked them. He was trying his best to connect to me, but I couldn't let him. It would just make it worse later.

It almost killed me to push Soda away. I stopped visiting him at the DX and told him that I didn't need him to sleep with me anymore one day over dinner.

Soda and Darry shared a look over their plates of chicken and green mashed potatoes. "You ain't having any nightmares no more, Pony?" Soda asked gently.

"Naw, not for a few months now." I answered, keeping my eyes on my food. "Anyway, what kind of 14 year old needs his big brother to chase away his nightmares?" My voice came out more bitter than I'd meant it. Soda looked like I'd just belted him in the face and Darry just set his jaw as if he was swallowing a retort. I pushed down the apology that bubbled to the surface and kept mechanically eating.

That night I'd heard Darry tell Soda softly that maybe it was for the best. That maybe I was just growing up.

"Something isn't right with him Darry. He's not acting like himself." Soda's whisper had echoed through the house and I knew from Darry's silence that he agreed.

I just sat on my bed in my dark room, my arms tightly wrapped around my knees. I wasn't going to go to them. I didn't need my big brothers to make everything better. I just had to stay tough, like Dally said.

That was a few weeks ago and it was now Christmas Eve. Darry had asked me if I wanted to go with him to pick out a Christmas tree. Standing in the doorway of my room Darry looked so much like Dad that it felt like I'd been kicked in the gut.

"No."

Darry blinked at me in surprise a few times, then I saw his brow furrow. "Well, we can all decorate it when Soda gets back from work tonight." He offered.

"Not interested." I answered without looking up from my book.

Darry's jaw moved and I could almost hear him grinding his teeth, he disappeared from the doorway and I heard him quietly talking to Soda.

Soda peeked into my doorway already dressed in his DX shirt, and the fact that he didn't jump right onto my bed made it clear that he knew something was wrong.

"Pony?" He started carefully. "I know this year's been hard, for all of us, but I think mom and dad would…"

I snapped my book shut with a bang that made Soda jump. "Just drop it Soda. I don't want to have anything to do with Christmas." I got up and pushed past him, not wanting to see the hurt in his eyes. I walked right past Darry out the front door, ignoring the way he watched me with concern.

I felt a kind of satisfaction as the door slammed behind me. I wasn't sure where I was going, so I just let my feet guide me.

The worry and hurt on my brother's faces kept flashing in my mind but I stubbornly shoved it down. Celebrating Christmas was too hard and I for one was not going to open that vein of sorrow. They could do what they wanted, I was having none of it.

I put my hands in my pockets, I'd left the house without a coat and it was getting pretty cold. I kicked at a rock, looking down at the old cracking pavement of our neighbourhood.

I raised my head up and saw a tall figure. He was leaning against a tree, his hands in the pockets of a worn dark brown leather jacket. He looked up making eye contact with me and tossed his head like a horse to get the white blond hair out of his eyes.

I froze solid, my brain not being able to comprehend what I was seeing, but before I could really question it, I blinked and the figure was gone.

I stood there, still not able to get my limbs to move.

Dally.

I'd swear that I just saw Dallas Winston.

I laughed shakily to myself. That was crazy. Of course I didn't see Dally. He was gone. I just imagined him because I've been trying to be hard and tough like he told me.

Still, the chill that went up my spine had my feet heading towards home.

I was thankful that both my brothers had left by the time I returned. Soda gone to work and Darry to get that useless tree. I spent the rest of my day holed up in my room. I heard Darry return, grunting and muttering to himself as he figured out how to get the tree to stand straight using the old rickety stand that dad made.

Part of me said to go help him but I clamped down on it and didn't budge.

When Soda came home, he tried again to get me to come out to decorate but I turned him down flat. As he left my room his shoulders hunched and his head down, I felt a lump come to my throat. I hated disappointing him, but I couldn't let myself care, not anymore.

I must have drifted off because the house was quiet when I woke up biting back a scream.

It took a moment to realize that I was alone in my room. Whenever I woke from a dream, I always forgot that I'd told Soda that I didn't need him any longer. My nightmares hadn't left, they'd actually gotten worse, but I'd figured out a way to stay quiet enough so my brothers wouldn't find out.

I dragged myself out of bed, my socked feet shuffling against the carpet. Peering into the hall I realized that it must be late, since both of my brothers had already gone to bed. I was hungry, I must have slept through dinner and I sure wanted a smoke. Deciding that my nicotine craving was the first order of business, I padded my way to the front door. I slipped outside into the crisp air, shutting the door quietly behind me.

The street was deserted, there wasn't anyone out and about on Christmas Eve. I couldn't decide if the quiet was eerie or comforting. I flopped down on the sofa on the porch and pulled a pack of matches out of my back pocket. Now, where had I put my smokes?

"Isn't it passed your bedtime, kid." A familiar voice rang through the darkness, making me fumble and drop my matches.

I looked up and my jaw dropped open.

There on the other side of the porch was Dallas Winston.

He was leaning up against the house, his one foot propped up against the railing. He was picking his finger nails with a switchblade. He was wearing his old leather jacket, which struck me as funny since the same jacket as stuffed in the back of my closet. He lifted his head up and the light of the streetlamp was just enough to illuminate his high cheekbones and unruly hair.

"I'm dreaming." I whispered, somehow afraid to speak loudly.

He cocked his head and my eyes met his icy blue ones. "You dream of me often?"

I shook my head, hoping that the vision would disappear. "You're not real. You can't be real." My voice was climbing higher, making me sound a lot younger than fourteen. I was breathing heavily. Jesus, I must be going crazy.

"I'm real alright." Dallas pushed off the wall and moved towards me. As he approached, I stared in horror as I realized that I could see the other side of the porch through him. I could clearly see him but if I focused I could see whatever was behind him too. "God, I don't have time for this." He muttered. Before I could move, he shot his hand out and cuffed me on the back of the head.

"Ow!' I complained, rubbing the tender spot.

"See? Real." He said, throwing himself down on the old sofa beside me.

"Dally, what? How are you..? I don't understand..?" I stared at him, not really sure what I was asking him. I ran my hand through my hair, resting it over my eyes to hide the sight of my dead friend.

"I've got somethin' to tell you, kid." I moved my hand to look at him. Dallas looked back at me steadily and I shifted my seat. "What you're doing is no good. You gotta smarten up."

"Smarten up?" I asked, feeling a little betrayed. "I'm just doing what you told me to! Get tough, remember?"

Dallas turned away and crossed his arms. "You wanna end up like me?"

I reeled back from him, then pushed myself off the couch to lean against the railing.I didn't want to hear it. Yeah, Dally's ending was terrible but that was because he hadn't been tough enough. I wasn't going to make that mistake. I reached into my back pocket again for my smokes, frowning when I came up short again.

"Here," Dallas said as he stuck a smoke in his mouth and tossed me his pack of Kools. I tried to hide my surprise when I caught them. I guess my hallucination could not only hit me but had real smokes too somehow.

I lit one and settled back against the railing, watching him.

"Listen, kid." He spoke around his cancer stick. "I'm supposed to tell you that tonight you'll be visited by three spirits."

"What?" My heart started pounding hard in my chest. Seeing Dally, who was a buddy was one thing but having to deal with any other ghosts gave me the willies.

"Yeah, they're coming to teach you a lesson, so you gotta listen real good, yah hear me?" He eyed me with that dangerous look, the one that meant not to mess with him.

"I hear yah." I took a drag to try to calm my nerves and not show him how freaked I was. He just smirked back at me.

"Shoot kid, there's nothing to worry about." He pulled himself to his feet. "Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Well there was that one time that you talked me into hitting Steve with that water balloon…" I started, not able to stop a smile from growing on my face even though I knew that talking back to Dallas was never a good idea. I was figuring that I couldn't be killed by someone who was already dead.

Dally just cackled in return. He reached out and ruffled my hair, then laughed harder when I tried to swat him away. He hopped down the front steps and stopped at our gate. He seemed lighter than I remembered him.

"Remember Ponyboy, listen. Don't make me come back here, you'll regret it." He pointed to punctuate his threat. His eyes were brighter in the darkness then I'd ever seen them in life. It was like they were lit from within. "Take care, kid."

Then as he stepped into the circle of light cast by the streetlight he was gone. I stood and blinked a few times, shaking my head for good measure.

I was all ready to believe that it had been a crazy dream if it wasn't for the smoldering cigarette still in my hand.


Side note: I describe Dally using the novel but I can hear Matt Dillon's voice saying the dialogue.