So this probably has no accuracy at all, and I feel like it's pretty boring too, but it's 1:30 in the morning, so give me a break. I got bored and I can't sleep again😂 And I'm calling it a Darry one shot because it's in his point of view, but it's actually about Dally dying. Let me know what you think!

Darry's POV:

"Pony," Dallas says weakly, falling to the ground. Did I actually just see that? Did I actually just witness Dallas Winston- the Dallas Winston, the one that had a mile long prison record, but would never do anything really harmful- get shot?

"What the hell?!" I scream, running up to the cops. I see an ambulance loading Dallas in out of the corner of my eye. Is he okay? Should I go over there?

"What's wrong?" The cop with the gun asks.

"You just shot him!" I scream at the cop, completely losing my cool.

"He was armed. What was I supposed to do?" The cop exclaims. Um... He robbed a convenience store. Why would you shoot him?

"It wasn't even loaded. We tried to tell you," I explain.

"Well kid, what's done is done. I'm sorry about your friend," He says, walking away.

"Wait! Officer..." I look up at his name tag, which I can barely see in the darkness.

"Carl! Officer Carl!" I yell, running after him. He turns around.

"Do you think Dallas will... you know, survive?" I ask him. He shakes his head.

"You just saw him get shot. You really think he could survive that?" He asks me. I nod.

"Yeah. Dallas was tough," I say.

"Not that tough. He was shot in the chest. But the paramedics will do what they can. Sorry, kid," He says. Why does he keep calling me "kid"? I'm twenty years old, for crying out loud!

Suddenly, I hear screams.

"Darry! Dar, get over here!" Sodapop screams at me. I look over to him to see him holding a half dead looking Ponyboy. He had cuts and scrapes all over his face, and he looked like he had passed out.

"Is he okay?" I ask, running back over to him.

"I-I'm not sure. He fainted. I caught him, but he's burning up," Soda informs me. I spend a few seconds cursing under my breath before a paramedic comes over to the gang.

"Is everything okay?" She asks.

"My brother just passed out. He has a high fever," Soda talks for me. I absentmindedly put a hand on his forehead. Everything seems to be in a blur right now. All I know is that I pretty much just burned my hand on Ponyboy.

"Can you take him with you, just to make sure he's okay?" I ask the paramedic. She nods.

"Of course. Would you like to ride with him?" She asks. I nod, and take him out of my younger brothers arms, into mine.

"Should we meet you at the hospital?" Soda asks. I shake my head.

"No, we could be there for a while, so stay home, Sodapop. I'll call you when I know what's going on," I tell him. Nobody says anything about Dallas.

After finishing with the gang, I carry Ponyboy over to the ambulance, where they put him on a stretcher, still out cold.

I stand awkwardly in the background as they hook up tubes to Dallas and put an oxygen mask over Ponyboy.

"Was he not breathing?" I ask them. No response. I look to Dally, who has blanked upon blankets, topped with towels over him to try to stop the bleeding. About 4 paramedics are tending to him, and one to Pony. I watch it happen, and feel my heart break more with every second.

"H-how's Dally doing?" I ask. Again, no response. About 10 years, or maybe more like 10 minutes later, we reach the hospital.

"Get him a room, now. He has to go into surgery, now. That bullet needs to come out," A paramedic says, helping a few others wheel Dally's stretcher out of the ambulance.

"What about Ponyboy?" I ask. They start wheeling him out without a response, and I follow.

They take him to the pediatric ward of the hospital and give him a room. It's very colorful and bright in there, the glass walls painted, probably by the children, with animals and smiley faces and stick figures, but it doesn't make the atmosphere in here any less terrifying. It smells clean and it's pretty quiet, other than the sounds of a few little children crying.

I stand in the doorway of Pony's hospital room and watch the doctors work. One nurse seems to be cleaning his wounds up, while another one checks his blood pressure and temperature.

"104.7... That's high," She mumbles to herself, and she and the doctors whisper together. I feel my heart sink, that can't be good. I've always heard that if someone has a temperature over 103, you should take them to the hospital. When the hell are these doctors going to tell me what was wrong with him?

"Is he okay?" I ask after a moment. A nurse nods.

"Yes, sir. He'll be fine. You'll just have to give us a little while to treat him," She says. I nod.

"Sure... I'll be back in a little while," I mumble and walk out to the reception desk.

"Hi. I'm looking for Dallas Winston's room," I tell her. She nods and looks at her computer, quickly typing something and scrolling through. 

"Yes, room 246, third floor. Be quick, though, because he's going into surgery in-" She looks at the analogue clock on the wall.

"About ten minutes." I nod and thank her, then go up to his room.

"Dallas. You awake, buddy?" I ask, knocking on the door. No response, so I just go in.

I look at my friend. He's hooked up to heart monitors, oxygen tanks and IVs and other tubes galore. He looks pale, and sickly. By now, the bleeding has stopped, but he was wearing a hospital gown to cover it.

"Excuse me, sir. We need to take this man into surgery now," He says. I guess that means he wants me to leave the room....

"Good luck, Dal," I whisper.

"I'll see you when you get out of surgery," I say, walking out. And just as they get ready to wheel him out of the room, I hear a long, loud, ear piercing beeeeeeeeep. The heart monitor. I peek into the room, there are doctors and nurses surrounding him. I can't watch, so I go back up to Ponyboy's room.

"Darrel Curtis?" A nurse says, once I'm back in the pediatric ward.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Ponyboy has been asking you," She says, pointing to a room.

"Thank you," I say and go in.

"Soda. Soda. Soda, where are you?" My little brother says, eyes closed. He must be having another nightmare, I figure, so I put a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him.

"W-what?" He says, only half awake.

"Ponyboy, it's me. Darry," I say.

"D-Darry? Where's Dally? I gotta talk to Dally," He says.

"Ponyboy..." I whisper, taking my younger brother's hand in mine.

"That was just a dream," He says, half crying, and half comatose.

"Dally's dead."

A/N: 1.1k words. Pretty good for almost 2 AM! So let me know what you think! -Katy