I debated about posting this one because I'm making some big assumptions here. But this is my headcanon so I'm going to post it. Hope you enjoy.

Trigger warning: abuse.

I kiss Dean all the time: cheek, shoulder, chastely on the kips. They're all friend kisses. But I have tried three times to have more-than-friend kisses with him.

The first was when we were eleven. We were on the pirate deck and I purposefully knelt in front of him and kissed him hard on the lips, interrupting him mid-sentence. When I pulled away he picked up his sentence right where he'd left off. I didn't know what to d next, so I just sat down next to him and pretended I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary. But for days after I wondered if I had somehow done it wrong.

The second time was the day after his fourteenth birthday. I'd given him his official birthday present the day before (odds and ends of everything I could get my hands on, including a knit sweater, a bunch of stolen CDs, a spliff and a packet of pills), but the next day announced I had another present to give him. This time I wrapped my arms around his neck, standing awkwardly on my tip toes, and kissed him fiercely on his lips. I tried to coax his mouth open with my tongue but he kept his lips firmly closed against me. This time when I leaned back Dean stared at me with a strange look in his eye. He pursed his lips and looked away from me, then said with a nervous laugh, "I liked your other presents better." I was so furious at him that I didn't meet up with him for two days.

The last time I tried we were fifteen. That time I was determined to get him to respond. I started similar to the first time by kneeling in front of him and kissing him. When he tried to lean away from me a surge of anger made me knot my fists into the front of his t-shirt and pulled him back. I vehemently attacked his lips with mine and when he didn't respond I bit his lip until I tasted blood. My brain screamed at me: control get control control mine.

Finally Dean grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me back. We glared at each other furiously and he wiped his arm across his bleeding bottom lip. "The fuck Franky?"

"What, am I not good enough for you?" I snapped ferociously.

"You bitch. Fucking pull yourself together!"

"You sleep with anyone. What's so wrong with me? You're mine for fuck's sake!"

"Course I'm yours! But not like this. In every way but this."

"Why? Why not this too? What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you?"

"Crazy bitch!"

I slapped him.

He slapped me right back.

I launched myself at him, fists flying. We had the most violent fight we ever had then. No holding back. Adrenaline kept us from feeling the pain for a while and we only pulled away when we had exhausted ourselves. I had a black eye and a split lip and bruises all over. Dean was bleeding steadily from his nose and various scratches on his face and arms and he held his side in pain. I was too proud to hold my arm as it throbbed at my side but avoided flexing my fingers.

We glared daggers at each other, breathing heavily. Neither of us could speak for a minute. Finally Dean gave me a crooked grin and said, "Did you notice that was more sexually charged than that godawful kiss?"

I blinked in astonishment then started to laugh hysterically. We both dissolved into a fit of laughter.

From laughter I went into sobs.

Dean let me get the hysterical crying out of my system for a while and when I began to calm down he came and wrapped me safely into a hug.

"There's something wrong with me," I said into his shirt.

"Maybe," he replied honestly. "Me too."

"What are we?"

"Family," he said simply.

"Are you sure? I- I feel like I can't live without you. Like I need you to survive. You're half of me. That's not family. That's not normal family."

"Horcruxes."

"Dean…"

"Soul mates then."

"Doesn't that mean romantic?"

Dean tilted my chin up so I could look into his eyes. "Franky, did you feel anything those times you tried to kiss me?"

"I felt safe."

"We always feel safe together you loon. Anything else?"

"Um, possessive?"

Dean let out a loud laugh at this. He nodded his head. "But that's not romantic. That's just our brand of crazy. Anything else?"

"…no."

"There you go then."

"It's confusing."

"Not unless you think too hard about it."

"That's true. Normally I don't even think about it. You're you and I'm me."

"And we belong together. That means if we ever find a romantic partner, another soul mate, we'll just have to live next door to each other." He winked and I laughed.

"So my little Lion, why were you so desperate for kisses?"

I stiffened against him. He pet my hair encouragingly and I finally stammered, "I'm afraid…that I'm somehow broken. And I was trying to make myself feel it with you. Because I don't. I don't feel it Dean. I've gotten crushes but the thought of anything physical makes me sick. I wanted to change that."

Dean was quiet for a long while. And then quietly he said, "Are you trying to take it back? All that stolen stuff."

My stomach rolled because I knew he was talking about what we never talked about. And I didn't want to. But he was the only person I could ever sort this out with. So I took a shaky breath and said, "Yes."

"They fucked us up for life."

My thoughts flashed to creaking floorboards and a bed too big for a child and I choked out a, "Yeah." My fingernails dug into Dean's arm. He didn't say anything about it. Dean kissed the side of my face. It felt good, so indescribably good, to know that no matter what Dean loved me. In a way that I needed to be loved. He pried one of my hands loose from his arm and laced his fingers through mine, saying, "You'll feel it when you feel it. The right person will see past your clothing shield and your stutter and will make you feel it. But don't hate yourself if you can't get physical right away."

"You're lucky you can have sex without freaking."

Dean laughed bitterly. "Yeah, having sex so I don't have to pay for my drugs is so healthy. Not saying I hate it, but I'm glad that's not you. I would kill anyone who laid a hand on you. Then it'd be harder to get drugs."

I gave him a sad smile. "Aren't we a pair?"

"We're like the fucking poster children of sexual abuse."

I averted my eyes and started to bite my lip hard and Dean took the cue. We were done with that line of conversation.

"Fucking hell, my dad's will go nuts when they see me. This is like the fifth time in three months I'll come home looking like I'm in some sort of fight club."

"I guess now's one of those times you being a good liar comes in handy."

"…I wish I was a better liar. I wish I could lie to myself."

"I'm glad you can't. Love you my little lion Franky."

"Love you too, Dean."