Siren's Song

Unconditional

Insecurity chased her. 

Some quack psychologist told her that it was psychosomatic - to which, she said, goodbye. This, in tandem, with the therapist who, in so many words, told her to get over the trauma of an event in her childhood, had put her off mental health professionals for several years. Until Dean and Krisinda helped her find the right path to the right professional. 

But, it still creeps in. That little insecurity, and if she's totally honest with herself, it is the one that kept her from being intimate with Jon. That nagging idea that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't whole. And, how could anyone love a broken woman? How could anyone love someone, who spent years with a fear of intimacy? 

Even though, Dean does. 

She thinks. 

Some days, she's not even sure if he does. She's not sure if he really loves her or if he pities her enough to be with her. And, today, is one of those days. It's what keeps her distant, turning her head away from his kiss as she pours coffee, and keeps her from ruffling his hair as she passes by him reading the news on his phone on her way to get ready for the day. She's just not feeling affectionate, maybe, because she doesn't feel deserving of it being returned to her. 

He's waiting for her when she returns from getting dressed - if you can call changing from her pajama pants to workout Capris  getting dressed - leaning against the counter, cup of coffee in hand, and an expression of something she can't quite place pulling his eyes downward in a particularly puppy-like manner. 

"So," he sets the cup down and crosses his arms over his broad chest. "You want to tell me what's wrong or do you want me to guess?" 

"Nothing - " 

"Let me just stop you," he holds up a hand, "You can't give me that bullshit. I see right through it, I always have. Something is obviously wrong." 

Teri drops her head in shame and defeat, mumbling something, he just makes out as, " - you know?" 

"Yes, I know." Dean sighs, making his way to her. His hands curl around her biceps, whether it's affection or just to keep her from running away from this conversation, she doesn't know, but he's warm and strong so she doesn't fight.  "Baby, you're the most affectionate woman I've ever been with." he leans down to kiss her head. "And, when that stops, I know something is wrong." 

Teri's bottom lip trembles violently and her eyes are glassy with tears when she finally looks up at him. "Dean, why do you love me?" 

"What?" Dean's rightfully confused. This has appeared to come straight out of left field, leaving him unprepared. "What are you talking about, Teri?" 

"I'm not...whole!" Teri finally gives into all of her doubt, all of her insecurity, and lays it out for him to see. "I've been violated and scarred and I don't know how to be...not crazy!" 

"Baby!" Dean interrupts, "Teri, stop! I don't love you because you're normal, I love you because you're not! I don't want normal!" 

"How can you love me?" Teri finally sobs, desperate for answers, for something that might get rid of this damn insecurity that haunts her. 

"Because, you are you!" his voice is loud and firm, pleading with her to understand. "I love you - all of you. Even the parts you think aren't whole and are unlovable! Love isn't all about the good, Teri! It just isn't. It's about the good, the bad, and everything else. Love isn't black and white. There's a lot of gray area. A lot of it!" 

"Dean..." 

"Sweetheart, c'mere," he gathers her up in his arms and carries her into the living room, settling on the sofa with his girl in his lap. She curls into him, hoping to soak in every bit of warmth she can, pressing her face into his neck, and reveling in his arms around her. The strength of his hold. The warm solidity of him. All of it.  "You are a whole human being. Whether you believe that, or not, it is true. You are more than your past and I know it comes back to haunt you, sometimes. I know it chases you and that maybe something you always deal with it but I still love you. I will always love you. I don't come with conditions. I've got issues, too. I'm not normal, either. Life isn't exactly normal when you're us." 

"I know." she sighs. 

"But, that doesn't make me love you, any less." his reassurance is quick but firm, leaving no room for argument. "You were hurt and I know you've been told you're a waste of time and you need to get over it but you will never be a waste of time and you need to take care of you. If you can't, I will.  You are my time, my world, okay?" 

"Okay." Teri agrees softly. 

"How about we read for a bit?" he reaches for the book on the end table. "I don't have to be at work for a couple more hours. Not when I'm needed at home." 

The book is one of quotes, of poetry, and inspiration, and he can always tell when she's been reading it because she's bright and happy and in the kitchen seeking an outlet for her sudden flood of creativity. He flips through until he finds a page to read to her, unable to conceal his soft laughter at how fitting the quote on the page is. 

"I wanted all of her," he sinks a hand into her hair, absently rubbing her head. "Not just what was pretty; I wanted her broken and bad, her wild, and her winters. Anyone can love for a season but I wanted the years." 

"Me too." 

"I'll give you as many years as I've got."