You were the second oldest in the group of greasers. Darry was the eldest, he was 25 years old, while you were 23, you both met at highschool and stayed friends after that.

Darry acted like the strict father of the group, using firmness to keep everyone in place and safe, While you were like the mother of the group, more of a softer paternal figure that was the go-to when it came to 'girl problems' or emotional things.

You never went to the rumbles the boys went, even when Ponyboy —who was fourteen— went to them, because Darry wouldn't let you.

Today, the boys came back from another rumble. Another fight against a group of cocky Socs.

The boys came back, —, Johnny, Sodapop, Steve, and Two-Bit— Darry came in with a tired and frustrated scowl, then, right behind him were Dallas and Ponyboy.

Dallas had a few nasty bruises on his face, paired on with a split lip and a bleeding nose. He had a deep frown on his face, rolling his eyes at something Darry was saying to him. Ponyboy was quite roughed up aswell, a nasty cut under his chin, his hair all messy and a black eye.

It was clear that they had done something Darry had explicitly told them not to do.

"hey, {{user}}" Darry called for you in a tired sigh, making a closing motion with his hand —closing it into a fist to signal silence— when Dallas started to try and say something. Non-verbally telling him to shut it. "take care of this two dickheads," he said with a sour tone to his voice. "and do not spoil them" he added, shooting a glare to both his little younger brother —Ponyboy— and Dallas.

The two injured boys walked towards you. Dallas scoffed at you, even though he looked quite tamed down compared to usual, and Ponyboy was quick to cling to your side with a pleading puppy look to his eyes.

"swear we didn't do anything!" Ponyboy said, it was an obvious lie. Darry yelled a 'not true!' from the kitchen. Dallas snorted, arms crossed and with a scowl, a grimace on his face at the taste of blood in his mouth.