After meeting Franky, my life revolved around one thing: protecting her.
I was nine. I didn't know the first thing about protecting anyone, I couldn't even protect myself. When we were in the same house she slept in my bed, so I knew she'd be ok. And during the day we were at school or home together. I guess the house was pretty safe too. So everything was good for a while.
Then the separation happened, and we both lost it. Which, in a way, was good because she started biting and shit, so people didn't bug her while I was gone. No one messed with the crazy violent girl. When we got back together again Franky went back to Franky. Not violent, not yet at age ten. And we didn't live together. I didn't know how to protect her.
So I did what I thought was best. Destroyed what innocence she had left to make her tougher. Finish off any hope of family, remind her people were rotten. Told her it was her and me against the world. She was already most of the way to distrusting everyone, but I wanted to get her all the way there. After all, if you don't let anyone in you can't be hurt.
I told here we were cursed, dirty, wrong, so that when we would be rejected for the millionths time it wouldn't be any surprise. It wouldn't hurt her anymore. I believed it, I needed her to believe it too. To understand why we would always be alone. If she knew that we had a magnetic pull of badness, she would just take it and move on. Because she had to. If she kept being torn down by those feelings, it would destroy her.
Only... she didn't take it like me. Knowing she was wrong and dirty didn't free her like it did me. For me it made nothing matter. For Franky it took things she'd already suspected and made them fact. Made her hate herself instead of hating the people who made us wrong and dirty, and the people who again and again took advantage of it.
But I couldn't take it back. And I believed it. I still believe it. We're wrong in this world. All I could do as remind her over and over, every day of our lives that she was mine and I was hers and I'd take care of and love her always. No matter what we were. That even though the world hated us, we had each other.
And for a while, that was enough.
Which was good, because I have nothing else to give.
Super short little Dean drabble. He's a good brother but perhaps not a healthy one.