#lowkey there's some dalbit bc i love them

[starcraftt]

|| red dye, like the blood red on my hands

this post requested, and i hopefully delivered !! :3 ( @letmebesilly, thought you might want to be tagged <3 )

warnings : blood, two getting jumped ( </3 ), fighting, probably some cursing, switchblades, weapons, death threats, injuries, characters who don't usually break breaking, soft dal???

authors note : well,, we need more two-bit anyways. here's to contributing !!

pairing: none

word count : 2k

summary : drunken versus sober. surprisingly, two bit was not the one intoxicated that day.

links : ; quotev link ( has a self made cover ! ) ; ao3 link ; wattpad link

" people cry, not because they're weak, it's because they've been strong for too long .

keith mathews boots clicked against the concrete sidewalk, kicking at an empty beer can. which hadn't been discarded by him, mind you. the greaser had woken up feeling off this morning, rolling off the curtis' couch, a headache throbbing at the back of his mind. he didn't remember what had happened last night, and he didn't bother trying.

he had waved darry a thanks, walking out the front door, slamming it behind him for old times sake ( even though it only spiked his headache along ). he made his way throughout tulsa, needing fresh air and peace. something he didn’t have quite often. but he was usually the one doing the talking.

that’s why he liked ponyboy. the two could just be mutually quiet and have it still be comfortable. they don’t communicate silently like he does with johnny, it’s just . . . quiet. 

two-bit ran a hand through his hair, and laughed slightly at himself. he was moping around for no reason. he was two-bit mathews, talking and energetic of it all. he forced a cheesy grin on his face at the next blonde that walked by, winking at the female as she rolled her eyes, walking away in a faster speed then she had been before.

two huffed out another laugh, shoving his hands in his pockets as he brought his shoulders into himself. straightening his back and walking with an air of confidence. he tilted his chin upwards slightly as he walked past a gang of socs, making sure to look real mean.

they ignored him, spare for a few glares his way, and two-bit relaxed a bit—letting out a quiet, relieved exhale. he continued stepping forward, one foot in front of the other, making his way across about three concrete tiles. until he felt a presence behind him, a tingling feeling at his neck.

he whipped around, spinning on his heel, seeing the same group of socs he had passed approaching him. slowly. trying to be intimidating. and it was half working, because two stepped back slightly as they got closer, trying to keep a straight face.

the usual taunts echoed into the air, sound waves against air molecules. “you should watch how you act around us, grease.” 

two-bit grit his teeth, glaring at the one who had spoken, his eyes flicking to one of his posse members as they seemed to stumble around slightly, like they couldn’t find their footing. oh that makes it even better—the jerks were drunk. and two was still nursing his hangover.

this is gonna be great.

“no need to get your pants in a twist,” two spoke aloud, pulling his hands out of his pockets as he hovered his hand near his back pocket—feeling his switchblade in said back pocket. he didn’t like using it, felt it was too pretty for this type of thing, but he didn’t have anything else except a couple of fists. 

and if the socs had weapons, those wouldn’t be all that great against them sharp knives. 

the socs look at each other, laughing a mocking laugh at the greaser’s words. the one who had initially talked letting the others speak up. like he was trying to remind two-bit how many people were in their pack.

“look grease, this doesn’t have to get bloody.”

“you’re right, it doesn’t.”

that caused annoyance to spark throughout the socs as two-bit spoke back. though any retort would annoy them. the main soc nodded his chin in two’s direction, and the others started to move, attempting to make a circle with foggy minds.

keith stumbled back slightly, only to be shoved back into the middle of the circle by a soc who was behind him. the main soc—who had been called christopher by another rich kid—had sort of dark hair, and brown eyes. he had a couple inches on two-bit, but most people did.

said ‘chrissy’ stepped into the circle, matching two-bit, who had hunched his back slightly in an attempt to be more intimidating; like the socs had tried to be. christopher had found a switchblade somewhere, flicking it open as he approached two. 

keith stood his stance, glaring at christopher as he shifted his hand nearer to his own weapon, head turning around to make sure none of them noticed, still trying to keep an eye on chris. it was a split second where no one moved, until it was only a blur of movement. 

the socs jumped towards two-bit, who had attempted to pull out his switchblade in time, only to have a soc rip his arm away from his back pocket. they tugged him to the ground, but he managed to slip out of their grip, scrambling back to his feet.

he reached for his back pocket, hoping to grip his weapon, only to have his hand grasp at air and the brush of fabric against his fingertips. his eyes widened in panic, and he looked towards the posse to find his blade in one of their hands, them grinning tauntingly. damn it.

it just went downhill from there. socs jumping on him and blades being dragged across his arms, face; clothes being ripped, his heart was pounding as he tried to fight back, throw some fists. when he felt a punch to the face, black inked his vision, and the last thing he heard was the mocking laughter of the socs as they walked away.

he was right. it had been great.

two-bit woke up to a running mouth of curses, air rushing around him as he forced his eyes open, seeing the familiar face of dally. he tried to talk, opening his mouth, only to groan at a sudden pain; brain finally registering the multitude of injuries peppering his body. he shifted his head, twisting his neck to see what he could, gaze landing on the moving ground below him, and he squinted at it, confused.

it registered when dally cursed again. dallas winston, carrying him to who knows where. he would've made some stupid comment about dal being a romantic if it didn't hurt to talk. "shit, keith, don't close your eyes again," dally warned him when he noticed two-bit awake.

it wasn't until dally made that comment he realized how tired he felt, and how much his eyelids were drooping. he tried to follow dally's orders, snapping his eyes back open again when they threatened to fall. soon enough, the curtis household dropped into two-bit's gaze, and when he was softly—weird enough so. it was dally carrying him after all—placed down on the couch, he shifted uncomfortably. he'd been in this same couch probably just a couple hours ago.

it felt like there were spikes all over his body, stabbing at each one of his injuries. and when he looked down, he saw the crimson blood of his own trailing down his arms and hands, eliciting a wince. damn it. his headache was gone though. like that mattered.

his vision suddenly went blurry, and at the realization that it was blurry by water—tears—he sucked in a breath, determined not to cry. it took a second, but dally came back, with the rest of the gang who had been home. darry with the first aid kit, dally leading him to the couch, and ponyboy standing at a distance, looking sick.

shit, he didn't want pony to see him like this. the kid always thought of him as this tough greaser, who never, never cried. ever. he had to keep up that reputation. there's no way he's gonna let pony see him cry. or anyone else for that matter. the kid didn't need to see reality just so early in life.

when johnny came up behind pony, peeking over the younger's shoulder, his black eyes widened, pools of darkness washed over with concern and worry.

two-bit let out a small yelp of pain when he felt something brush over a particularly deep cut, and he glanced down to see darry crouching down next to him, eyes squinted in concentration as he tried to wipe the blood off with a wet cloth. he sucked in a breath and tilted his head back against the arm rest as he scrunched up his face, trying not to seem weak. 

a couple excruciating minutes passed with keith's gaze now left with nothing of blurry tears at the burning pain. damn it.

his head tried to dart up when the screen door opened, but he let it fall back down with a curse. from what he could see in his flat position, soda and steve walked in, shoving and messing around with each other, wide grins on their faces. they turned to greet the gang, their smiles fading surely quicker then they had appeared. it was almost comedic, and two-bit would've laughed if it didn't hurt. he managed a weak chuckle, followed by a sharp inhale. 

after a mess of fussing over two-bit and burning red pain, they managed to find it in them to leave two's injuries alone after the five millionth time he let out a yelp whenever darry touched a bad cut. they had patched most of his injuries up, what they could, before two-bit sat up, feeling everyone's watchful and worried gaze on him. they had formed a half circle around him and he looked between most of them awkwardly. he still felt those tears in his eyes, but he couldn't reach up to rub them away. that'd be obvious.

his gaze landed on johnny, who was debating a mix of not looking at two-bit or not looking away from the injured greaser. "hey we're matching now kid," two-bit spoke when he caught johnny's eye—trying to lighten the mood as he pointed to the still red, thin cut over his cheek, a forced smile on his face.

"yeah man," johnny mumbled, now staring at the floor, hands in his pockets as he kicked at the ground, scuffing up his shoes even further.

apparently two-bit talking encouraged the others to, because dally spoke up, one hand clenched into a fist as he jabbed his pointer finger at two. "who?" he asked shortly, an edge of sharpness to his voice.

"some guy named christopher or something," keith responded, running his tongue over his top teeth when he closed his mouth, almost physically flinching at the name despite the fact that he was the one who had said it. he tasted blood. only realizing he had been biting down on his tongue when he recognized the familiar iron taste.

when dally muttered the name back to him, squinting down at the floor, soda spoke up. "how're you holdin' up?" he questioned, and two grinned. he was sure they could see through it.

"sucks man. i could've beat those guys off if i had—" he cut himself off, sitting up straighter at his own revelation. damn it. they had his switch. his eyes widened and he suddenly felt another urge to cry. he wished it was just about his knife. but no—no, life didn't seem to being kind to him today.

he was in pain, stressed, still buzzing off the adrenaline from the fight. pissed off, angry, and scared. he hated that he was. two frowned, placing his elbows on his knees, hands hanging down between them as he willed himself not to cry. 

his hand immediately rushed up to brush at the stray tear, telling himself it'd be the only one. but when he glanced up and saw the heartbroken look of ponyboy's face—taking the expression as something of pony was disappointed the one person he knew didn't break, was breaking—he gave up. head falling down as he almost folded himself over, he unwillingly let the tears fall down, streaming down his face.

he felt a hand on his back, and he didn't see who it was, but he could tell it was dally. and that was freaking him out. probably him telling two to toughen up. dally wasn't ever soft. and neither should two-bit. never.

he tried. to stop crying. but the world wasn't letting him.

he felt warm arms envelop him, and after a second, another pair joined, when two-bit forced his head up, he took note of the gang joining in a group hug. two-bit at the center.

damn it.