It's Been A Long Time... [Desperate Measures Sequel]

SixtyTwo.

My heart ached as I longed for more of his touch. His expression was one I had seen many times from my mother, pity. His jaw hung open almost like he couldn't believe what I had told him. If only he knew up where I had, he might not look like he never heard such a thing before. 

His hand uncurled from mine and as the warmth of his hand left mine, I started to worry that admitting the truth was a massive mistake. His hand instead placed around my shoulder as he inched closer to me and put his arms around me pulling me into his chest. 

His heartbeat was quick, I could hear only that throughout the room as his fingers stroked my skin as he held me. "You are all I need in my life, Natasha," he spoke as he clutched onto me. "You've always been enough."

I looked up at him and sadly spoke, "I know how heartbroken you were after Immy."

"She was different," he told me. "She lied to me and that hurt more than anything. She lied to me to keep me away from you and you were the only person who could see it." Dean's eyes wandered over the skin of my face. "I was ready to give everything up to try and make that arrangement work with her but with you, you would never expect me to do anything that I didn't want to do." He sighed, "At the time I acted recklessly, my decisions were rash and uncalled for." I watched as his bit his lip. "I lashed out at you because I wanted you to hurt as much as I hurt at the moment in time," his fingers drew me close to him again. "The truth was I felt physically sick every time I laid my hands on you, every time I left a mark I wished for more pain on myself."

Tears left my eyes as he spoke, admitting things which were hard from him. 

"I knew you were the only person for me before then," his fingers danced along my shoulders. "I should have never let you leave, every time you have left you took a little bit of my heart with you."

I looked up at him, our eyes staring into each other as I took his hands in mine and held them. "I never wanted to leave," I gave him a weak smile as I tried to remain positive that we were here having this conversation. "I wanted you to follow me, to stop me, to bring me back and tell me everything was going to be okay. I wanted you to make me stay with you and for us to stop our shit."

He reached up and his fingers stroked my face, "Maybe at the time it wasn't right. Now we can move forward, now we can begin again, start again."

"We can't ever start again," I told him before I smiled. "We can try to move past all of this, maybe we can draw a line in the sand and start from here."

His fingers left my face before he held my hand, his eyes looking down at our hands. "Before we can move on, there are things I need to now, things I want to ask you. There are some things I need to tell you too."

Nodding to myself I squeezed his hand, "Okay."

"Are you better now?" He asked as I watched his eyes wander over my body. "Do you still need help?"

I managed to smile, "I don't know if I will ever be better. All I can do is take one day at a time. For now, though, I am healthy."

Dean moved his hand away from mine and he pushed some hair away from my face before his hand returned to mine, "Do you think you'll need to go back to rehab at some point?"

Shrugging my shoulders I sighed, "I hope not." I honestly hoped not, I didn't ever want to return to rehab, although I got all the help I needed it was a situation I would rather not return to. 

"Do you blame me for what happened?" He asked I didn't quite understand what he meant so I answered the best I could.

I shook my head, "My eating disorder is my problem, no one else's. I don't blame that on anyone."

He squeezed my hand and looked away from me, his eyes dull. "Do you blame me for being attacked?"

And there it was, all his guilt pouring out. 

My hand squeezed his before using my other hand to move his chin so he could look back at me. "What happened to me," I breathed heavily. "There was nothing that you could have done to change what happened." I smiled as I finally felt good talking about it, good to talk and get it off my chest. "I think it would have happened no matter what," my voice was raw as I spoke. "If that didn't happen something else would, something else would have happened and somehow we would still be here having this conversation."

"What can I do?" He asked me as he stared into my eyes begging for something, anything. 

I chuckled at how adorable he was, "Please just be yourself. Do not blame yourself and don't treat me any differently."

He put an arm around me and held me close, "I want to keep you safe all the time." He looked down at me so our eyes were looking into each other. His touch was gentle and made my skin feel tingly as I put my hands on his toned chest and smiled. "I want to hurt anyone who has hurt you, you are so precious and beautiful." He looked at the hands I rested on his chest, "I can never forgive myself for hurting you, but maybe you could forgive me?"

My heart almost stopped, he had so much guilt when it came to me, how he could bear to be near me was beyond me. "I have always forgiven you." I pulled out of his hold and put my hands on his face, my eyes burned into his. "You are like a drug to me," I admitted stupidly as I grinned widely. "There is nothing you could do that I would never forgive you for."

"After everything I've done to you, you should hate me," he broke from my touch. "I hate myself when I think about how I have broken your heart over and over again." He shook his head, "You are so perfect and I keep fucking things up."

Smiling at him I laughed, "I am incredibly good at fucking things up too."