I don't own the character etc. etc.

This couple is taking over everything I write. Just when I think I've gotten them out of my system I write down another fic. Someone stop the madness!! Er..yeah, that was a tad dramatic.

Anyway, GH gave us a glimpse of a more edgy Dillon and anyone that knows me or what I like to write about, knows that I adore edgy characters...so I took that and ran with it.

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~Rebel~

Georgie Jones was on a mission. She was going to find Dillon Quartermaine and talk to him. They had a lot to sort out. She'd treated him awful and after seeing the feud he'd had with his mother, she felt ten times worse. How was she supposed to know that Dillon had it so rough? Then there was that nagging voice at the back of her head that called her a self-centered egomaniac. If she'd only stopped and asked him, just once, how things were going for him, she would know. She just hoped he didn't do something stupid before she found him.

Dillon Quartermaine was on a mission: to self-destruct as soon as possible. The fifth of whiskey he had stashed in his jacket was sure to do the trick. He'd walked around town for the better part of an hour before he decided that the docks was as good a place as any to drown out his sorrows and feel sorry for himself. So what if his mother chose some slime-ball, money-bags greaser boyfriend over him. So what that the one friend he thought he had -at present- hated him. So what that the mansion he lived in was full of backstabbing, morally corrupt crazy people. None of it mattered, because in no time he would be feeling grand thanks to his old pal Jack.

Georgie had scoured most of the town and was about to give up when she finally found her target sitting at the edge of the docks with his feet hanging over the edge and the soles of his shoes just inches above the water.

"Dillon, what are you doing down here?" She approached him slowly.

Dillon held the liquor bottle to his lips and took a long drink. He didn't even flinch when it burned going down. Tipping the bottle in her direction, he smiled widely. "Being a juvenile delinquent, what does it look like?"

"You're drinking," she stated plainly.

Dillon's smile only increased. "Are you going to tell your father? Maybe if I'm lucky I can get my ass hauled back into jail tonight."

"Is that what you want?" Gerogie sat down beside him and crossed her legs.

"Maybe," he said slowly, seemingly measuring the word on his tongue. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up.

"Since when do you smoke?"

Blowing a puff of smoke into the air, he acted as if he didn't hear her. "Since when do you care?" he replied only after she repeated her question.

"Right, well...I guess I deserved that." Georgie pulled her hair behind her ears and took in a deep breath, trying to avoid inhaling the chemical toxins that were now swirling in the air.

Squashing the butt and then flicking it into the water, Dillon's face softened. "I guess I'm going through my 'Rebel Without a Cause' phase."

"'Rebel Without a Cause'?"

Looking at her incredulously, he smiled. "Yeah, come on...James Dean, Natalie Wood. Any of this ring a bell?"

"James who?"

"Please tell me you're joking!" He cradled his head in his hands and rolled it from side to side in disbelief. "Come on, you know, James Dean. You know, only one of the coolest guys in all of cinematic history."

"Oh. So this guy was pretty famous then, huh?"

Dillon rolled his tired, drunken eyes. "Yeah, he's pretty famous and here's the kicker, the guy only starred in three movies: 'East of Eden', 'Giant' and 'Rebel Without a Cause'. ' Rebel Without a Cause' has always been my favourite though. It seems so fitting, doesn't it?"

"I-I wouldn't know. I haven't seen it."

"That's right, you wouldn't because I'm the only freak who sits around watching old movies and wishing just once that I was the one that got the girl."

"Dillon... Wait, what?"

"Never mind," he said, putting his arm around her, "let me walk you through this one. 'Rebel Without a Cause' is about a teenager who is basically shunned by the so called 'popular' kids. He moves to this new town and instantly he's an outcast but he really doesn't care. He's one of those loner type of guys, only I don't think he wants to be that way, he just doesn't know how to make friends. Well, he does make one friend, but well...the guy doesn't just see him as a friend. He's without a stable home life and really just trying to make it all work. He tried to court this girl, only he doesn't really know how and just comes off as awkward." He stopped, smiled faintly, then shook his head. "She makes it seem like she's interested but then when her boyfriend comes along, she makes fun of him. It's a constant push and pull. Anyway chaos ensues. They play chicken and the girl's boyfriend ends up riding over a cliff and Dean's character has to struggle with the consequences."

Dillon could feel the heat of her gaze on his skin and knew for a fact her eyes had never left him since he began explaining the film. It made him feel braver. It made him feel like taking a risk, just once.

Dillon took another slug from the glass liquor bottle. Setting the bottle on the docks, he tentatively raised his hand to Gerogie's cheek and smoothed his thumb against her jaw. Slowly, he brought her closer and laid a kiss on her lips. It wasn't demanding or controlling, just light and easy. Pulling away in a matter of seconds, it was barely enough for her to ease into it, but enough to taste cigarettes and whiskey on his lips and tongue. Though the combination wasn't to her liking, the kiss was still sweet and soft...and she liked it.

Swiping the bottle of Jack Daniel's back from the wood plank, Dillon took another swallow, avoiding her eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

Touching her fingers to her lips, Georgie blushed slightly. "It's okay."

Dillon shrugged his shoulders and turned his eyes to the open water, squinting against the harsh white light reflected off small churning waves.

Georgie stared at his profile for a full minute before she found her voice to speak again. When she did, it was small and weak. "The movie...how does it end? Is there a happy ending?"

"It's simple, the guy gets the girl and the kid that worshipped him ends up dead. I guess you could call that a happy ending." He looked at her then and she had a strange expression on her face that he couldn't read. "I'm sorry, I'm not very good company. Aren't you glad you decided to join my pity party?"

"It's okay, I mean, I...," she stopped, watched the water for a moment, "Is that what this is? You're just sitting here feeling bad about yourself?"

"I dunno," he answered casually, "I just needed to get out of that house, with those insane people and just be by myself for a while."

She sat up straighter. She hadn't considered the possibility that he wouldn't want her there. In fact, she hadn't really considered his feelings at all until now. "I could leave."

He surprised her by taking her hand. "I want you to stay."

Her heart began to pound and the rush of blood that sounded against her ears was too demanding for her to register exactly what he said. "Then I will. Dillon...are you going to be alright?"

"Me?" he asked, feigning shock. "Yeah, yeah, I'm always alright." Gone was the sarcasm from his voice, but there was something in his eyes that gave away the real pain.

"You know I'm here for you." She squeezed his hand and smiled when he caught her eye.

He broke eye contact and looked down at the worn laces on his tattered Airwalks. "Are you?"

"Of course."

Dillon let go of her hand and scratched the back of his neck and ran his fingers through his unruly spikes. "And what if Lucas needed your help right now, would you leave me to go to him?"

"Dillon..."

"Don't," he warned quietly. "We both know the answer."

"Is this how it's going to be like from now on?"

"What do you want it to be like? Am I supposed to sit around and pretend I don't care? Am I supposed to watch while you throw yourself at Lucas and he breaks your heart again and again? Well, I'm sorry, I can't do that. Not anymore."

"Dillon, I thought we were friends."

"I was never your friend, Georgie. I was the guy you turned to to make Lucas jealous, I was the one you used and I was the one you yelled at. We were never friends."

"Fine. I did all those things and I made mistakes, but we were friends and I don't believe for a second that we can't still be."

He sat there for a long moment, and Georgie feared he wasn't going to speak again. That he had dismissed her and didn't want to be her friend any longer. She was becoming impatient, bordering on annoyed and spurting into anger, before he finally looked up and smiled slowly, though it seemed forced. "Sure, we can be friends."

Her smile was instant and she reached over to give him a hug. Holding her for a moment, and smelling that soft, fresh scent that always accompanied her, he pulled himself away before he was lost to the rapture again.

"Georgie, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I think I want to be alone now. Would you mind?" he asked, as he took off his jacket.

"Yeah, I can...are you sure you're going-"

He stood and stepped away from the water, taking the pack of cigarettes from his pockets and throwing them, along with the liquor bottle, into the trash. She stood too and watched his actions. "I'll be fine. Here. Take my jacket, it's gotten cold."

"No, it's okay. I..."

"Go ahead," he insisted and placed the jacket around her shoulders.

She could feel the heat instantly warm her through and she pulled her arms through the too-big sleeves.

Dillon laughed softly and his fingers itched to move the strand of hair that had fallen against her reddened cheek. "Be careful."

"You too," she tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the stairs.

He watched her until she was out of sight and then he sat down on one of the benches that littered the pier. Swiping his hands down his face, he took in a deep breath. The air seemed cooler, the atmosphere lonelier and the word friend felt like a knife to his already aching heart.