Author's note: I wrote this for my rp so I think Jal is mentioned in there once or twice. :P So it's supposed to be present day.

When Franky had started to balk at the idea of going out with Dean like she had promised he hadn't argued, just picked her up and flung her over his shoulder as if she was a doll. She'd crowed in indignation but his replies of "A promise is a promise" eventually made her shut up. When they were out of the door and on street level, and Dean was sufficiently satisfied that Franky wouldn't bolt, he set her down and took a step back, beaming at her. "Franks," he started, a chuckle in his voice, "Did you know that your shoes are most of your weight when you have them on?" She punched his arm playfully. "No seriously! Those things are gigantic!" After a few minutes of laughter Dean pulled his pouch loose of his shirt and withdrew some of it's contents. A mix of pills all shapes and sizes. He held out the handful and said, "Pick your poison."

"…what are they?"

"You wouldn't have asked that question a few years ago. Just take some."

"I wouldn't have. But I don't hate my life now, so I'm not just throwing it about."

Dean's face fell and his voice cracked so slightly Franky only barely picked it up as he said, "You hated life when it was just you and me?"

"That's not what I meant Dean. And you know it. Don't turn this into being about us. Life was shit. We were the only good things about it. But we were trying to destroy ourselves."

"… I never would have let you destroy yourself…"

"And you could have stopped me?"

"With my last breath."

Franky flinched and looked away, then snatched a few pills from Dean's still outstretched palm and gulped them down dry. "There."

Dean nodded with satisfaction. "Good. Just loosen up Franky. That's what you need. You're replacing running around with holing up in your room with your art. How is that better?"

The drugs already starting to kick in, Franky furrowed her brown in confusion and shook her head. "I-it is… I don't know. I just, it's more healthy isn't it?"

"No."

"Oh."

Dean held out his flask and Franky took it without protest, swigging down a mouthful of burning liquid before coughing and handing the metal container back to Dean.

Everything started to blur at the edges and Franky grinned and tipped slightly to the side, squinting her eyes as if to get a better look at Dean. "Youuuu… you haven't changed a bit have you?"

Dean laughed and rolled his head backwards, closing his eyes. "Not really no. Neither have you. You've just decided to internally combust rather than externally." Franky nodded in agreement, eyes half closed. Then her eyes snapped open and she tried to turn her nod into a head shake. But it was too late. Dean was grinning at her merrily as if all of his beliefs had been confirmed.

They spent a few hours just outside the dorms, smoking spliff and drinking, talking about nothing in particular but communicating more in their own code than anyone could ever guess. Finally sure that they were fucked enough to do whatever he had planned Dean indicated that they should start walking.

Do what Dean wants tonight. That's what Jal said. And maybe it's good advice. Franky followed Dean as he weaved in and out of dark streets with no discernible path. Finally he halted and smiled that way that he did when he'd been struck by something. He turned to grin at her and she bit the inside of her cheek nervously. Dean grabbed her hand. "Trust, yeah?" Franky nodded and let him pull her towards a house that Dean eyeballed with interest. And then she realized. She tried to pull free.

"No. We can't."

"Come on Lion. Live a little."

"We aren't twelve anymore."

"Which means we'll be better at it, yeah?"

"This isn't even our town. And it's wrong."

Dean's hold on Franky's hand tightened and he scowled. "They'll be fine. Come on."

Do what Dean wants you to tonight.

Franky shrugged and Dean smirked. "Good." They moved around the house until they found the storm drain. He held out his hands expectantly. Knowing the cue, Franky fished out her Manikin from her pocket and handed it to him. He tucked it safely into one of his own pockets. Her Manikin never went with her on these particular missions. Dean knit his fingers together and made his hands into a basket. "Up you go Franks." Franky grabbed hold of the pipe and stepped into his hands and he boosted her up so that she could get a firm grip with her feet on the wall. She shimmied up the pipe to the nearest window and examined it closely. After a minute of examining she nodded and worked a bit of Franky magic. Her fingers knew exactly what to do still, even after years of not using these particular talents. Eventually the window eased open and she grabbed the sill and pulled herself into the house.

Delicately she landed on the inside of the house, taking care not to let her Creepers make too much noise. After a few seconds thought she bent over to untie them. She leaned back out the window to see Dean waiting for her to give an "Ok, head to the door." Before she did she tossed him her shoes. He caught them and gave her a thumbs up, disappearing around the corner of the house.

This was her part. Navigating a foreign house in the dark, quietly and carefully. On the way keeping an eye out for possible valuables and dangers. She crept out of the room she'd ended up in, a bathroom, and made her way out to the hall and down the stairs. When she got to the front door she opened it to a smirking Dean. "Knew you still had it in you," he whispered, "Now what'd you spot?"

They picked their way through the house meticulously, picking up small objects that looked to be valuable and stuffing their pockets. Satisfied Dean gave the nod and they went to the front of the house. After a moments pause Dean nodded at a bookcase that was close to the door. Franky gave him a sullen frown but he nodded again and she got on one side. With a heave they shoved the bookcase forward, sending it crashing to the ground. And they ran, blood pumping and adrenaline so high it was giving them both headaches. Dean grabbed Franky's hand and squeezed and despite feeling oddly numb inside Franky smiled at him and held on tight.

As they ran Franky searched idly for feelings of guilt or horror at what she'd just done again. All she could dredge up was an ache in her gut, requesting more alcohol.

She'd have to ask Dean to pass the flask when they stopped.