"Run away with me."

"What?"

"Run away with me."

"You fucker."

My head was rested on Dean's chest and rose and fell with his every breath. This wasn't the first time he'd asked, wouldn't be thelast. We were close to twelve, lying on the deck of our pirate ship. I held a cigarette loosely between my lips, taking tiny puffs every few seconds and enjoying the burn in my throat. Mostly I ignored these requests, letting Dean run his imagination for hours until he burnt out. I'd sit in silence and nod ever once in a while to indicate that I was listening. And I always always did, extracting realistic pieces of Dean's tales and trying to make a whole story that would actually work. No scenario ever did.

Dean's voice took on that earnest edge, bordering on desperate as he wove a new tale, in this one he became a world-class pickpocket (that was one of his favorites) and I pretended to be older than I was and took nanny jobs because I loved taking care of babies and tots. I quite liked that one, but the problem of course was that I looked in no way older than my age, in fact I looked younger. I nodded at the cues, silent as always.

Suddenly my head was picked up off his chest and dropped so that it cracked on the ship deck. I hissed and bit back a yelp of pain, getting on my knees and turning to glare at him and clutching at the back of my head. "Fuck was that for you prick?" I froze and instantly I removed the anger from my face, replacing it with the blank stare, the neutral safe look.

Dean's face was dark and his hands were balled up into shaking fists. He was suddenly furious, dangerous, possibly even to me (but he was more likely to storm off and beat up the first unfortunate kid he happend upon). "What," I asked in a monotone, head half bowed, making sure he knew I wasn't a threat. When he got like this his mind could play tricks on him, make him think that even I was an enemy. I'd gotten more than one pummeling for sudden movements when he was in this state, but I gave almost as good as I got anyway so there was never any need for apologies afterwards. Besides, he'd been the recipient of multiple freakouts on my end which would involve lots of scratching and sometimes trying to light him on fire in a panic.

Voice dripping venemously Dean growled," You'll never do it. You're a coward Franks. A liar. You promised, you and me, but you didn't meanit. You're just as bad as all of them only you've led me on longer." His eyes were dry but I heard sobs start to try to break through into his voice. "Fucking bitch."

I waited for a minute mulling over my options, watching him grow angrier. Finally I said, "When it's bad enough, we'll go. If it gets too bad and we need to or when we're old enough that we can actually survive. Whichever one of those comes first."

"Bad enough?" He spat, eyes blazing. "How much worse do you want it Franky? Worse than that one place that made me hold hot sauce in my mouth for swearing? Worse than that place where you kept getting locked in closets? Worse than-"

"Stop it," I said quietly, voice starting to quake. If he'd kept listing it would have gotten worse and worse until my head split open and everything inside of me was strangled. I wrapped my arms around myself and, perched on the balls of my feet, curled up into myself. Dean didn't move and we calmed down in our own ways. I counted my breathing until the blood in my ears quieted enough for me to hear. I looked at Dean and he'd settled cross-legged on the deck, digging his switchblade into the old warping wood. I uncurled myself and crawled closer to him. He looked at me and the anger was gone, leaving behind hurt. "Please," he pleaded. "Let's just go. I don't want it any worse. I'm already at my limit. Franky… something inside me is breaking more and… and I'm scared. I'm scared it'll… break completely if I don't do something."

I grabbed his hands and, sucking in my lips and biting down with all of my might, I scooted into his lap and rested my chin on one of his shoulders. He nestled onto mine and relaxed against me, for once safe.

But fear grabbed hold and I breathed into his ear, "We wait. We have to."

He went ridged against me but I held onto his hands, holding them fast against my chest. And I knew I had him. I'd trapped him here with me because I wasn't brave enough. Didn't trust in him, in us. Finally Dean relaxed again and in a defeated whisper said, "Always you and me?"

I sucked in a terrified scream because somehow I knew I had doomed him. Tied him to me selfishly, made him make a promise that would destroy him. I buried my face against his neck and my greedy heart that needed him made the final decision, making me speak the final curse word.

"Always."