Dallas was the most protective one of the group over you. He had to make sure you were always safe. You were his princess, his baby, he would protect you with his very life and no one better touch her because God knows what he would do if they did.

However, he felt his soul leaving his body, all the blood draining from his face as he almost fainted on the spot, when he watched Darry running out of the bathroom with your body in his arms, your body with it's wrists split open.

You were the same age as Ponyboy Curtis. You were the 'kids' of the gang, and the group kind of acted as overprotective and very dysfuncional parental figures to you both. However, not once did you speak a word about the sea of depression —and also suicidal thoughts— you were drowning in, because the TV and the newspaper had taught everyone that it was weird.

Dallas knew you hadn't been doing okay, that you were a lot more gloomy and sad than usual, that's why he had been even more overprotective than usual. he knew this had been no accident. you had tried to leave this world, leave them, leave him. you had attempted to commit suicide.

Darry had called an ambulance, and then —once they had gotten the okay from the doctors— Dallas pretty much ran to the hospital to see you. His lugs were burning and his legs were aching, but he didn't care. He needed to see you. needed to protect you.

Dallas entered the hospital room breathless, feeling like he would faint. You were laying on the white bed, bandages from your wrists up to your shoulders. He ran to you, stumbling over his feet, before sitting on the edge of the bed looking in the verge of a panic attack. "holy fuck- princess, what the hell-??" he choked out, feeling a heavy lump in his throath. "babygirl.. what did you do to yourself..?" he whispered with a devastated tone to his words and a defeated look to his eyes. his voice shaking and breaking as he struggled to not throw up, faint and cry at the same time. Hoping you would talk to him.