Wild Hearts (AU!Dean Winchester x Reader)

Part 7 - Ten Years After Dean Came Back

Ten years after Dean came back.

"And how does that make you feel, Y/N?" The skinny man asked from his chair placed next to the couch.

He  wore a tweed suit and you thought he looked more like a college  professor than a couples' therapist. He had a notebook in his hands and  jotted down notes every time either of you spoke.

"I don't know, not good." You shrugged.

"Mhm," he jotted down more notes, "I see."

It  was your first appointment and Dean had yet to speak up for any of the  questions. He told you there was no point in going since he still loved  you and you still loved him. He made it sound so simple, but it was more  complicated than that. And he knew you needed to talk it through, so  here he was supporting you and holding your hand; you couldn't ask for  more.

"And, Dean, how do you feel about it?" Mr. Fitzgerald asked.

Dean  scrubbed his free hand over his mouth and chin as he side eyed you. Mr.  Fitzgerald, or Garth as he told you to call him, hadn't directed any  questions towards Dean until now. Dean didn't seem too happy about it,  but refused to let that show in the way he looked at you. All you saw  was love.

"I'm okay with it," Dean said, still looking at you.

"How can you be okay with it?" You asked, scrunching your forehead.

"Because  I love you, this doesn't change anything between us." He said with a  shake of his head. "It doesn't change the way I feel about you or the  fact that I still want to spend the rest of my life with you. I need you  here with me. I can't do any of it without you."

"Yes, you can." You said.

"I don't want to."

Garth  stayed silent while he listened and jotted down notes. He was a nice  guy but hadn't said anything helpful yet. Maybe couples therapy was  about opening the conversation more than actual advice or guidance.  Maybe he just worked as a buffer and had you guys find your own way  through.

"Everything's different now, Dean."

"No."

"You're  the one that had our future planned out; two kids, one boy, one girl, a  white picket fence, a big yard, and a dog. You even hung a tire swing  and started building a treehouse, for fuck's sake." Your chin started to  tremble and you took a breath. "Dean, you want kids and I want you to  have them but it's not going to happen with me. I'm broken, my body's  broken."

After four years of trying to get pregnant and the  endless testing and trials, you were spent. Your body was spent and you  couldn't remember the last time sex felt like it was supposed to. It  felt clinical now like you were running through a maze for a piece of  cheese. You tried almost everything, there were calendars and ovulation  sticks, hormone injections, temperature readings, wedge pillows, and you  were sick of it all.

You couldn't imagine it felt any different for Dean either. Your sex life was present but unaccounted for.

"I love you." Said Dean.

He  wiped your cheeks dry from the tears streaming down them and kissed  your forehead. It didn't matter how many times you'd snapped at him over  the past four years with your hormones in overdrive, you couldn't push  him away if you tried. And you had tried.

That was one reason why  you wanted to go to therapy, you wanted to come to terms with your  infertility and let it go. You wanted to stop the hormone treatments and  stop feeling the way you were. You wanted to feel like yourself again.