I wasn't the one to pursue the relationship in the first few days of knowing Dean. But something about me must have intrigued him in the same way something about him made me comfortable. He sat next to me at meals, jabbering away in what I would come to know as "the Dean way". I didn't offer much about myself. Told him the story of how I'd gotten my Manikin (oblivious fosters, art store trip, etc) but other than that let him be the one to regale me with stories of old homes, school, former kids he'd had to deal with and so on. He was one of the loud ones so he had no qualms about listing all his grievances to me. Stuff he couldn't tell socials and that the other kids would just tell him to shut up about. I listened. I was the first person who ever had to Dean.

One day about a week and a half after I'd arrived we were in the boy's room coloring while everyone had gone out to the backyard to play. Dean was itching to go outside but he stayed in with me and indulged my need for a little space from the others. I hated the girls' room, all decked out in pink and frills. I bunked with two other girls. They were older and didn't hit but had made noise of disgust the first night when I'd wet the bed and gave me annoyed looks whenever I got into their vicinity.

"So how come you cut your hair?"

"Hmm?" I looked up and met Dean's curious gaze.

Dean picked idly at a scab on his arm. "You're a girl. Don't you like long poofy hair to put up in plaits and all that other girly stuff with ribbons and bows?"

I blushed and looked down at my drawing. "I uh…"

The scab came off and Dean flicked it onto the bed of a boy he didn't like, then licked at the wound. "How come you panicked when the foster grabbed you?"

Even worse. I ducked my head further downward. "… Don't like people surprising me."

Dean nodded in understanding at that one. "Yeah, I get that. Like, who gave you permission to grab me." I looked up and nodded vigorously. "Well at least you know that no one will touch you without your permission now." He joked.

I didn't say anything.

Dean read my face and the smile faded slightly, so he stood and swung his arms as if he needed to stretch. "So why'd you cut your hair?"

"Because it gives people one less thing to grab," I said truthfully.

Dean's eyes widened and he paused, then nodded his head curtly. I squirmed in discomfort. That was the most honest thing I'd said in years. Dean sat down close to me, too close for anyone else but already an acceptable distance for Dean, and he placed his hand on my head and ruffled my feathery hair. "Well, it looks good on you Lion." I smiled and leaned ever so slightly into his hand.

"Ewww, gonna make out with her now Dean?"

We turned to see two of the other boys walk in through the door, trampling dirt in from the backyard. I grimaced at their dirty appearance. I was more than fine getting dirty but they were coming into their room with the crap.

"No!" Dean retorted in annoyance. My mouth fell open slightly when I noticed Dean didn't bother to move away from me like most boys would in this situation. He wasn't going to denounce me to look good for the other boys. I think at this point he already thought of me as his.

"Whatever. Get the fuck out of our room Franky."

I stood abruptly and headed for the door. As I passed one of the boys stuck his grimy hands in my face with an obnoxious, "Blah!" I flinched away and the two boys started laughing at my jumpiness. I bit my lip in embarrassment.

"Hey!"

Suddenly the boy was on the floor and Dean stood over him, pulling his arms back to his sides. "Don't do that shit head!"

It was the first time Dean ever stood up for me. It was far from the last. But that moment was big. I was eight and a half years old and for the first time in my life someone had tried to protect me. The world dropped away and it was just Dean, my Dean, face fierce as he glared down at the boy. I was frozen in place, entranced by Dean and all he could mean.

Someone cared about me.

Dean stood firm as the boy got back on his feet and I backed up against the wall, out of the way. The boy was older and had an angry feral look on his face. The second boy plopped onto his bed and put his hands behind his head, smirking at the show.

Dean and the boy stood as if ready to pounce, trying to stare each other down. We all waited to see who would make the first move. Finally the boy's body relaxed and he walked passed Dean with only a quick punch to Dean's shoulder. Dean stuck out his tongue and came over to me. "Come on Franks!" He held out his hand with a smile.

I took it.