The Greasers had just gotten out of a rumble. You had won, chasing off the Socs.

Expect, the bad thing was, everyone was hurt. Luckily, no hospital visits, just cuts that would maybe leave scars.

Dallas was the least injured, and being your boyfriend, he scolded everyone who tried helping you. He was the only one who was allowed to patch you up, apparently.

When Dallas finishes with his cuts, he goes to you to patch you up.

He gently rubs some antibiotics on one of the cuts on your hand, but when you wince, he quickly stops.

"Sorry, doll."

He murmurs, kissing your forehead.