#ph probes

[axissolutions]

Industry's Most Reliable Solutions for Your High Risk Operations

As a leading name in the business, Axis Solutions Pvt Ltd offers a vast range of solutions to help industries improve their operations. From explosion-proof chillers to pH probes, the company delivers top-of-the-line technologies that cater to the varying needs of their clients.

Axis India's explosion proof chiller is designed to meet the highest safety standards while providing efficient cooling to industries with high-risk operations. The company's chillers are explosion proof and chiefly keep the environment free from flammable gases and vapor that can cause unpredictable explosions. These chillers guarantee efficiency and allow industries to comply with safety regulations.

Axis India offers oxygen analyzer manufacturers for industries that require accurate analysis of oxygen in their working environment. The company's oxygen analyzers aid in gauging how much oxygen is present in ventilated materials, helping to prevent explosion hazards while optimizing manufacturing processes. With its cutting-edge technology, Axis India sets itself apart in the market by providing reliable oxygen analyzer systems.

Improve Productivity with Accurate and Reliable pH Measurements

Waste management has become a top concern for many industries, with ever-changing regulations and standards that require strict compliance. Axis India as a leading COD BOD pH TSS Analyzer manufacturers allow industries to quickly and accurately analyze their wastewater for contaminants. With efficient waste management systems, industries can save on costs and protect the environment.

Axis India's pH probes are a critical component for industries that require stringent control over their water and liquid properties. These probes are designed for accurate pH measurements to monitor acidity, alkalinity, and pH levels of liquids. The information gathered helps industries improve their productivity by ensuring that their processes remain within optimal pH levels.

Axis India's Ultrasonic Flow Meters provide accurate and reliable information on fluid flow capabilities and fluid movement. Industries that carve out the accuracy and flexibility to measure the flow of ultrasounds through liquids typically benefit from this technology. These flow meters are highly efficient and cost-effective, providing accurate readings for better control over production processes.

[galaxyslime]

taking additional courses for work and realizing that maaaaaybe I'm not actually cut out for this

[elemom]

hc:

As an apology for ruining Zane’s original pink apron, the ninja all independently decided that they were gonna buy him a bunch more various pink aprons. After that hilarious coincidence, they ended up making it a tradition. it’s become a thing they do during the holidays, and they’ve even started (trying) to make em themselves, eventually making it a contest to see who can find the silliest/best/coolest apron.

so far he has:

- a classic “kiss the chef” apron

- a bunch of actually normal ones the ninja got him before they started competing

- “this machine kills fascists”

- a bootleg apron with a funny typo

- “I <3 NNC” (he got this one some time after season 2)

- a really, really ugly one from the 70s/80s. like an ugly christmas sweater but an apron. it has garland

- one with a fake tuxedo printed on it

- “autism be damned, my boy can work a grill”

- “I died and all I got was this lousy apron”

- “I died twice and all I got was this lousy apron”

- “I died three times and all I got was this lousy apron”

(After this, they just decided to keep a tally and add new deaths in sharpie.)

- one that’s just COMPLETELY bedazzled

- “Why do they call it oven when you of in the cold food of out hot eat the food”

Some additional things i thought up:

One year, he got a ridiculously complex smart apron made by Nya and Jay. It connects to him via bluetooth and has a built in timer, a thermometer, a pH probe, multiple headphone jacks, a disc drive, a screen display, and more. (Jay used that display to play Bad Apple, once. And yes, it can also connect to Zane and run doom.)

Kai and Cole made him one poorly put together out of quilt patches. The front of it had his name in a different font and size for each letter, as though Kai and Cole had just grabbed whatever they could. Somehow, it came together really well, and they won the competition that year.

Lloyd once gave him a normal white apron, in which he hid a bit of red dye. Lloyd forgot to mention that it needed to be washed alone. Insert Pink Gi Part 2

Wu gave him a magical apron that can never get dirty. *With his permission this time,* Zane and the others tested it out. They ran over it with their vehicles, used kai’s power to light it on fire, and reenacted their food fight scene (this time with the leftovers from the last time Cole tried to cook.) It never got dirty. Wu was so smug about it.

[fckinwild-kiwi]

Dec. 11th: You're Not My Girlfriend

Day 11: Playing with their hair/Cute habits

We’ve made it to day eleven of @comp-lady’s Domestic December writing challenge!

Warnings: Maybe Swearing (This is an 18+ blog, minors dni)  Word Counts: 1.1k+ Words Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader

Eddie was very protective of his hair. It was one of the first things you noticed when you became friends. While Steve spent time styling his luscious locks, Eddie spent his time finding ways to keep his hair naturally healthy and that meant that nobody was allowed to put their oily fingers in his hair. “It will fuck with my natural pH,” He once said after smacking Gareth, who tried to give him noogie. Ever since then, everyone stayed away from the hair, fearing Eddie’s wrath.

During movie nights with the group, even before you two started dating, Eddie would run his fingers through your hair, slightly massaging your scalp as he did so. It was comforting and made your heart just sizzle and burn with affection. You quickly noticed that Eddie would do this whenever he wanted to express affection and be close when actual closeness was inappropriate. For instance, during a group dinner with Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, and Steve. Eddie, with his arm around your chair, would bring his hand up to run his fingers through your hair, running his fingers through the strands before dragging his fingertips across your scalp. You leaned in to this behavior. Eddie’s love language was physical touch and it was his way of reminding you, ‘Hey, I’m here and I love you.’ 

The fact that your love language was words of affirmation sometimes threw him off and the conversation about it was frequent. “Do you still love me?” He randomly questioned as you both played on your parents couch, Macy asleep on the floor. You were so confused, how could this boy possibly think your feelings for him have dwindled even slightly?

“Of course I still love you, probably more today than I did yesterday,” You said, reassuring the poor boy as you grabbed his hand. From that moment on, you made it your mission to express your love with physical affection so he would never question the love you had for him. 

The first time you purposefully used affection to reassure your boyfriend, you were eating dinner with your Mom, Macy, and your grandparents. Though they knew who Eddie was, they weren’t the most thrilled by your relationship upgrade. “What do you plan to do after you graduate this year then, Eddie?” Your grandpa probed. 

Eddie tensed up beside you but before he could respond, Macy interrupted. “Eddie is a rockstar, Papa!”

“How do you expected to do anything with that kind of career, will you be able to financially support a family?” Your grandpa continued asking. 

“Grandpa!” You scolded, shooting glares across the table.

“No, it’s okay, babe,” Eddie reassured you before continuing. “I love to think I’m the rockstar that Macy thinks I am but while I wait for those dreams to take off, I got a job working at the record store on Main Street.”

“And we are so proud of you,” Your mom said, smiling at Eddie from across the table. Noticing Eddie’s tight smile, you reached up, placing your hand on the back of his neck before giving him a slight squeeze. Keeping your hand there, you began lightly running your fingers along his nape. Eddie quickly relaxed, looking at you with a soft expression.

“The crazy thing, Grandpa,” You started, continuing the soft touch to Eddie’s neck. “Is that I will support Eddie in any endeavor he wants to do as long as he’s happy and passionate about it. If he becomes the next Ozzy, I’ll be at his show, side-stage, cheering him on. If he decides that he doesn’t want to be a rocker and instead he wants teach music, I’ll be at every recital or performance cheering on the best teacher there is. That’s what it means to support your partner.” You sighed, before looking at Eddie who, in returning his love language with yours, mumbled out a soft, “I love you.”

The next time, Eddie noticed your increased physical touch was during his graduation ceremony. Though it was Eddie’s third time as a senior, it was perfect as you two graduated together.  As you sat next to each other on the chairs in the stuffy gymnasium, Jason approached the two of you. “Third time really is a charm, huh, Munson.”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Jason,” Eddie grumbled out. Noticing his normally bubbly personality begin to shrivel into the person that only Jason seemed to change him into, you grabbed his hand before wrapping your other hand around his arm. Finding comfort in your touch, Eddie took a deep breath before responding again, “Enjoy your day, Jason.”

“That was impressive,” You mumbled out, pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s neck. 

With a shudder, his hand found yours on his arm before he squeezed it. Eddie said, ”You made me feel stronger.”

“I’m always here to help you when you need it, Eds,” You whispered. “Let’s go find our families.”

And today, the rest of the party noticed too. Everyone was hanging out at Steve’s house for their weekly movie night. The couches and recliner full of bodies, you and Eddie opted to lay on the floor with you sitting up right, leaning against the side of couch, and Eddie with his head in your lap.

“I’m just saying that I think ‘Halloween’ is probably the best slasher movie ever,” Dustin said, shrugging. 

“No way, ‘The Hills Have Eyes’ scared me for months,” Lucas argued. “It’s definitely better.”

“You’re missing Dustin’s point, Sinclair,” Eddie laughed out. “‘The Hills Have Eyes’ is scary but what makes ‘Halloween’ better is how diabolical Michael Myers is with his slow speed.”

“Exactly!” Dustin shouted. You laughed at their childish argument before running your fingers through Eddie’s hair, your fingers massaging his scalp with a practiced touch. 

“What are you doing,” Gareth gaped.

“Hm?” You questioned, your fingers continuing their movements. “What do you mean?”

“You’re touching Eddie’s hair,” Gareth said, loudly with fear in his eyes. Eddie, who had fallen under the trance of your fingers popped up at the mention of his name.

“I did not know that was against the rules,” I said, glancing down at Eddie before looking at the rest of the group, who all decided to stop their discussion and look at you two.

“It’s not against the rules for you, baby,” Eddie said, grabbing your hand and putting it back into his hair. “It’s against the rules for those assholes who liked to fuck with me.”

“Hey!” Gareth argued. “You quite literally punched me in the shoulder last time I even came new your hair.”

“Yeah, and you’re not my girlfriend,” Eddie retorted. “Besides, when she does it, it feels like love and comfort. I’m not worried about what she might be doing or a punchline she might be making.”

Eddie loved physical touch and the innocent touches that you could provide, whether that was rubbing his back or massaging his scalp, provided him with the sense of safety and comfort. And you were more than willing and happy to provide that.

[tauforged]

the worst part about working as a lab tech is that you eventually try to do some of the tests you run at work at home (im trying to streamline my saltwater tank care by testing pH salinity calcium and alkalinity at home) but im not only so used to the high quality tools we use in the lab but i also know they’re the most accurate and reliable. which is why im out here buying a magnetic stir plate so i can make proper calibration buffers for my pH probe and do cal+alk titrations without having to manually mix the reagents and risk spilling stuff everywhere

[hermette-historian]

I am Dr. Heinz Doofenschmirtz and the auto-titrator is my Perry the Platypus

Me: I've now restarted you six times, given you a new silver probe, calibrated the pH meter, untangled the cable forest, refilled all seven chemical bottles, and unplugged every goddamn connection on the instrument. I even turned up the temperature in the lab, in case you were just upset because you were a little cold. It's been two and a half hours and this test should have taken me max 40 minutes. Do you feel like working now?

Tiamo, burrowing under the covers: Nope. Try again tomorrow.

Me: I am going to BITE SOMETHING.

[plaguedocboi]

AAAYYYYEEEE AQUARIUM EMPLOYEE SOLIDARITY!!!! do you work directly with the animals? i’m on the environmental quality team at mine, so i spend the majority of my time up in the lab or down in the pump rooms, and i’m always so envious of our galleries team for getting to have problems like ‘one of the penguins keeps fake sneezing because she loves getting attention from the vet team and wants a checkup every day or she’ll scream at us because she’s a special princess’ and ‘our moray eel found a new hiding place and we’ve yet to figure out where it is so if anyone sees him please email the head aquarist’ as opposed to ‘who the fuck used the last of our phosphate reagents and forgot to order new ones GOD DAMN IT’ and ‘alright who wants to stick their arm into the freshwater sump to retrieve the pH probe we need to calibrate?’ like it must be so wonderful to always be in such close proximity to so many little beasts and creatures. do you have a favorite kind of animal to work with/observe? i’ve always been partial to the tunicates and coldwater soft corals/sponges we pick up whenever we do collections on local coastlines. i ❤️ blob animals

Right now my aquarium is kind of a disaster (middle of massive renovations) and we have as few employees as possible so we all kind of do everything, which is sort of nice because I get to do public education and animal care and behind the scenes stuff and help with research!

I ALSO LOVE TUNICATES!!!!! They’re so cool. I especially love surprising people by telling them that tunicates are chordates that are closer related to them than anything else in the touch tank. Blob animals are the best. You should look through my moon snail tag for the biggest blob you’ll ever see

[hydrofarm]

Soil pH

What is the Meaning of pH? The term pH refers to the level of acidity or alkalinity of a substance. It’s based on a scale that ranges from 0 to 14, where a pH of 7 is considered neutral. Values below 7 signify acidity, while values above 7 indicate alkalinity. The pH scale is logarithmic, meaning each whole number change represents a tenfold difference in acidity or alkalinity. In simpler terms, a soil pH of 5 is ten times more acidic than a pH of 6.

Healthy soil pH is the foundation of a thriving garden. Find the balance, and your plants will flourish.

Understanding pH is important in soil science because it influences many soil properties, including nutrient availability, microbial activity, and plant growth. A proper balance of pH levels helps plants access nutrients more efficiently, making it an essential factor in successful gardening and farming.

What is the Best pH for Soil? The ideal pH range for most plants is between 6.0 and 7.0, which is slightly acidic to neutral. Within this range, most nutrients are readily available to plants. However, some plants have specific pH preferences. For instance, blueberries, azaleas, and rhododendrons thrive in more acidic soils with a pH between 4.5 and 5.5, while some ornamental plants and vegetables can tolerate slightly alkaline soils up to a pH of 7.5 or even 8.0.

How to Check pH in Soil? There are several ways to measure soil pH, ranging from simple DIY methods to professional testing:

pH Test Strips: You can purchase these at most garden centers. Simply mix a soil sample with distilled water, dip the test strip, and compare the color change to a pH chart.

Soil pH Meters: These electronic devices are quick and easy to use. Insert the probe into the soil, and the meter will display the pH reading.

Professional Soil Testing Kits: These kits usually come with detailed instructions and provide more accurate results than DIY methods. Some local agricultural extension offices and labs also offer soil testing services for a fee, which can give you a complete analysis of soil pH and nutrient levels.

What pH is Rich Soil? Rich soil typically has a balanced pH range between 6.0 and 7.5. At this level, soil can retain essential nutrients like nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium, which are crucial for plant health and growth. Rich soil with an optimal pH level supports a diverse range of plants, from vegetables to flowering perennials, as it creates a favorable environment for beneficial bacteria and earthworms that break down organic matter and enrich the soil structure.

What is High pH in Soil? When soil has a pH above 7.5, it’s considered alkaline. High pH soils can pose challenges, as they may limit the availability of essential nutrients like iron, manganese, and phosphorus. Alkaline soils often appear in areas with low rainfall or where the bedrock contains limestone or other alkaline minerals. Plants in high pH soils can sometimes show signs of nutrient deficiencies, such as yellowing leaves (chlorosis) due to iron deficiency. While some plants, like lavender and certain succulents, can tolerate or even prefer alkaline soils, most garden plants prefer slightly acidic to neutral conditions.

What pH Level is Healthy for Soil? A healthy soil pH typically falls between 6.0 and 7.5, though this can vary depending on the type of plants you’re growing. Maintaining a balanced pH level ensures that your plants can efficiently absorb nutrients, promoting healthy growth and resistance to diseases. Soil pH can fluctuate over time due to factors like rainfall, fertilizer use, and plant root activity. Testing your soil pH regularly can help you stay on top of any changes and adjust your soil management practices accordingly.

You can use soil amendments to adjust the pH level of the soil. For example, lime can raise pH for overly acidic soils, while sulfur can lower pH in alkaline soils. However, changing soil pH is a gradual process, and it’s best to make adjustments in small increments and monitor the results.

Conclusion Soil pH is a critical factor for plant health, as it affects nutrient availability, soil structure, and microbial activity. Aiming for a pH range between 6.0 and 7.0 can support the growth of a wide variety of plants and contribute to a thriving garden or farm. Regular soil testing can help you monitor pH levels and make informed decisions to maintain a healthy balance. By understanding and managing your soil's pH, you can create an environment where your plants can truly flourish.

[feralfrey]

second time THIS WEEK someone has come into my lab, used my pH meter, and then 1) did not rinse the probe properly and 2) did not properly submerge the probe into the storage solution

chemist grievance do not fuck with my analytical equipment i will end you

[fermentertechnologies]

Application and Advantages of Lab Scale Fermenter

Understanding Lab-Scale Bioreactors

Lab-scale bioreactors, often referred to as benchtop bioreactors, are compact vessels designed to facilitate the growth and manipulation of various biological entities under controlled conditions. These reactors mimic the natural environment of microorganisms or cells, providing optimal conditions for proliferation, metabolism, and product formation.

Components and Design

The design of lab-scale bioreactors is meticulously crafted to emulate the conditions prevalent in industrial-scale fermenters while maintaining versatility and ease of operation. Key components typically include:

Vessel: The core of the bioreactor, where the biological culture resides. Vessels come in various sizes and configurations, accommodating different volumes and types of cultures.

Agitation System: Ensures uniform mixing of nutrients, gases, and metabolites within the culture. Agitation mechanisms may include stirrers, impellers, or spargers, depending on the specific requirements of the culture.

Temperature Control: Precise temperature regulation is essential for maintaining optimal growth conditions. Bioreactors are equipped with heating elements and cooling jackets, along with temperature probes and controllers to monitor and adjust temperature levels.

pH and Dissolved Oxygen Control: Maintaining appropriate pH and dissolved oxygen levels is crucial for cell viability and productivity. Bioreactors are equipped with sensors and controllers to regulate these parameters through the addition of acids, bases, or oxygen.

Monitoring and Control Systems: Advanced bioreactors are integrated with sophisticated monitoring and control systems, allowing real-time monitoring of key parameters such as temperature, pH, dissolved oxygen, and biomass concentration. Automated control algorithms facilitate precise adjustment of operating conditions to optimize culture performance.

Applications and Advantages of Lab Scale Bioreactor

The versatility of lab-scale bioreactors extends across a wide range of applications in biotechnology, pharmaceuticals, and academia:

Bioprocess Development: Lab-scale bioreactors serve as invaluable tools for the optimization and scale-up of bioprocesses. Researchers can fine-tune culture conditions, evaluate the impact of different parameters, and optimize productivity before transitioning to larger scales.

Cell Culture and Tissue Engineering: Bioreactors play a pivotal role in the cultivation of mammalian cells and tissues for various applications, including regenerative medicine, drug discovery, and tissue engineering. Controlled environments within bioreactors facilitate the growth and differentiation of cells into functional tissues.

Microbial Fermentation: Microbial fermentation processes, such as the production of antibiotics, enzymes, and biofuels, are extensively studied and optimized using lab-scale bioreactors. These reactors allow researchers to explore different microbial strains, media formulations, and process conditions to maximize product yields and quality.

Biological Research and Education: Bioreactors serve as indispensable tools for biological research and education, providing students and researchers with hands-on experience in culturing and manipulating biological systems. Benchtop bioreactors enable reproducible experimentation and data collection, fostering a deeper understanding of bioprocess principles and techniques.

Challenges and Future Directions

While lab-scale bioreactors offer tremendous potential, several challenges persist in their design and operation:

Scalability: Translating results from lab-scale bioreactors to larger industrial-scale fermenters remains a challenge due to differences in hydrodynamics, mass transfer, and mixing dynamics. Bridging this scalability gap requires advanced computational modeling, process optimization, and scale-up strategies.

Sterility and Contamination Control: Maintaining sterility and preventing contamination are critical aspects of bioreactor operation, particularly in cell culture and pharmaceutical applications. Robust sterilization protocols, aseptic techniques, and stringent quality control measures are essential to minimize the risk of contamination.

Process Intensification: Enhancing productivity and efficiency through process intensification strategies is a key focus area in bioreactor development. Integration of online monitoring and control systems, advanced analytics, and novel bioreactor designs can streamline bioprocesses and maximize resource utilization.

Conclusion

Lab-scale bioreactors represent the cornerstone of bioprocessing innovation, offering a platform for exploration, discovery, and optimization across diverse biological applications. As advances in biotechnology continue to accelerate, the role of lab-scale bioreactors in shaping the future of bioprocessing becomes increasingly pronounced. By addressing challenges, embracing technological advancements, and fostering interdisciplinary collaboration, we can unlock the full potential of lab-scale bioreactors and propel bioprocessing into a new era of sustainability, efficiency, and impact.

[axissolutions]

Balance Efficiency and Safety with Our Explosion Proof Chillers

In today's world, where technology is advancing at a rapid pace, analytical instruments are a crucial part of any business that wants to remain competitive. As such, choosing the right analytical instruments for your company can make a significant impact on the quality of your products and the efficiency of your processes. Axis Solutions Pvt Ltd is a leading manufacturer and supplier of high-quality analytical instruments.

Oxygen analyzers are essential instruments in the food and beverage industry, where oxygen levels can affect the quality and shelf life of the product. At oxygen analyzer manufacturers, we offer a variety of oxygen analyzers that are designed to meet your business needs. Key factors to consider when selecting an oxygen analyzer include accuracy, stability, and reliability. Our oxygen analyzers come with different ranges, options, and certifications, making them suitable for various applications, including medical, industrial, and environmental.

Get accurate and fast readings with our reliable pH probes

In industrial applications, explosion-proof chillers are instruments used to cool or refrigerate products. These chillers are particularly relevant in hazardous or explosive environments such as chemical plants, where temperature control is critical. When choosing an explosion proof chiller, key factors to consider include cooling capacity, power consumption, and noise level. At Axis Solutions Pvt Ltd, we offer custom explosion-proof chillers that are safe, efficient, and designed to meet your specific needs.

pH probes are essential instruments used to measure the acidity or alkalinity of liquid samples, such as water, wine, or blood. When selecting a pH probe, key factors to consider include accuracy, sensitivity, and durability. At Axis Solutions Pvt Ltd, we offer a variety of pH probes with different specifications to suit your business requirements.

COD, BOD, pH, and TSS analyzers are critical instruments used in the water industry to monitor water quality. These instruments measure the chemical oxygen demand (COD), biological oxygen demand (BOD), pH, and total suspended solids (TSS) of water samples. When selecting a COD BOD pH TSS analyzer, key factors to consider include accuracy, sensitivity, and speed. At Axis Solutions Pvt Ltd, we offer a range of COD BOD pH TSS analyzers with different specifications and features, making them the ideal choice for businesses operating in the water industry.

[rtz669]

I was doing tests again today and conductivity was going fine, same with o2 saturation and then I get to pH and my god did thst bitch go crazy. u fucking dumb ass probe. WORK. I was going to rip all my hair out

[xols-ex-girlfriend]

Fish got stuck in my pH probe somehow

[doctoraxiom]

It's only been an hour with this pH probe down my throat and I already have a new appreciation for everyone who I've taken care of who had a dobhoff tube in and I was like "If you can just eat enough, we can take out the feeding tube!"

Eating and swallowing with this thing is really uncomfortable.

[tauforged]

i need to clean the lab pH probe but it’s cold as fuck in here and if i open my office door all the warmth i’ve accumulated by sitting here for the past few hours will escape 😭

[waynes-multiverse]

Eeeeek, I was so freakin' excited for this series!! And it was already off to an amazing start! I'm intrigued to see what happens next 👀👏

Favorite parts down below 👇🤍

When I said "amazing start," I really meant it! I like how I'm just being thrown into this setting and feel just as disoriented as the reader 🤓 (I also love the easter egg of it being set in Montana 😁)

Alpha. Your body instinctively recognizes his presence, as he’s suddenly there, hovering close above you with a divot between his brows and a frown marring his face, where thick stubble threatens to become a beard. Stern, dark brows are furrowed over his concerned eyes. His plush frown is framed by a stubborn-looking chin. Your gaze wearily travels over his handsome features, his short brown hair, the flickers of firelight that splash across the side of his face.

This whole description was just something else 👏😍

Cinnamon apples, with a hint of something floral.

You mean like apple pie? Hahaha that makes so much sense for him 😂🥧

“Yeah, well, there’s a spare room in this place for you, one bathroom. The kitchen is stocked. I’m a half-decent cook, if I say so myself, but help yourself.”

I'm a sucker for the super romantic "snowed-in in a cabin in the woods" type of story. I already know he's going to cook the best meals for her. Melting my heart here 😍

You were having a nightmare, reliving your fall, if he had to guess.

Oh, I'm sus 👀 Still wondering if she really was just out there for a hike after her dad's death or if there is more to it (and to her nightmares)

I also love how you characterize a post-season 15 Dean with Saileen going on. He'd totally become a bit of a reclusive loner and retreat to a cabin. Can 100% see that 😅 He really needs some love 💔

He digs into his pocket to show you a picture from his cell phone. Even though it doesn’t have service, you can still view the many pictures of the adorable infant in his camera roll, courtesy of Sam and his mate, Eileen. You coo at the chubby cheeks, the bright little eyes, and the swirled tuft of dark hair on his head.

Totally sobbing as I reach the end of this cute moment 😭🥹

“It’s full of pretentious douchebags, that’s what,” he says, his voice a dry whip. “Waxed up to the fucking eyeballs, smelling like Botox, Adderall, and sweaty desperation.”

I actually snorted. He sounded a bit like PH Dean there 🤣🤣

You know you shouldn’t be snooping, let alone contemplating what you’re about to do…but you can’t help yourself. Biting your lip, you slide out the journal and begin to flip through it.

I can't tell you how much those snooping scenes always freak me out! I was on the edge of my seat the whole time, scared Dean was going to walk in and catch her, but phew...

Will he know she was in his room? Can he smell she was in there? Will he notice the journal is missing? Ooooh, I'm so hooked! 👀

Welp, on another note, guess she's driving right into the monster lore 😂

He doesn’t want to leave you alone up here, so he’ll have to somehow keep fending off your probing questions into his past and personal life.

Oh, I so can't wait to see him fail at that! 😂❤️

This was so fabulous! It hits all the right notes of romance and mystery. Seems like you've conjured up the perfect snow storm 😉

Against the Wind - Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: This is a canon ending-divergent AU, but still an Omegaverse story within the canon world. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, scenting, injuries, hints of angst, fluff and feels. 

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: In His Hands

Your body is mostly numb when he pulls you out of the snow.

You utter a sharp cry when something in your side twinges, waking up your entire body like a white-hot shiv. Your ankle begins to throb as well.

“Hold on. I’ve got you.”

You only half hear the voice, a deep, coarse rumble. His form is broad and dark and blurry, but his male scent is the only thing you register with perfect clarity. 

Alpha. 

A small treble of alarm runs through you. It’s an instinct you’ve had to learn, as an omega traveling alone in rural Montana. However, something else disrupts that anxiety.

It’s his scent. His scent is like the crackle and smoke of a warm hearth. 

Safe. Your body is heavy and stiff and doesn’t respond to your commands, and yet, you feel a measure of calm when he maneuvers you into his arms. It’s a baser instinct, rooted deep in your chest. He begins to carry you down the slope of the mountain, and your vision blurs white…

Like the flurry of snow falling heavy on his jacket.  

You wake up freezing and shivering in pain. A sensation of small sharp needles begins to travel all across your skin. Slowly, as you're able to blink, your view of the dark wood cabin clears and focuses. You realize that you’re bundled in blankets, and laying on a chaise in front of a large fireplace. Still, you’re too cold. A keening whimper escapes you as you try to burrow in.

Alpha. Your body instinctively recognizes his presence, as he’s suddenly there, hovering close above you with a divot between his brows and a frown marring his face, where thick stubble threatens to become a beard. Stern, dark brows are furrowed over his concerned eyes. His plush frown is framed by a stubborn-looking chin. Your gaze wearily travels over his handsome features, his short brown hair, the flickers of firelight that splash across the side of his face.

He places a warm, calloused hand on your forehead, and he mutters a curse. Your body trembles further with cold. You part your lips, but you can't yet force your voice to escape them.

Again, he quite literally takes the problem into his own hands. He peels away the thick blankets just to slide himself in behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel their tempered strength when they cage you in against him. You manage to turn your head and rest your cheek against his chest, covered by red plaid. Thank you...

Almost on reflex, you breathe in his scent deeply.  The earthiness of it calms you, warms you from the inside. Your shivering eventually calms and turns to purring in your chest. 

“What’s your name, Omega?” he asks. His voice is deep and gruff, and it threatens to make you shiver for a different reason as the timbre of it washes over you. 

It’s difficult, but you manage to speak, clearing past your parched throat to give him your name. He nods, as if rolling the sound of it back and forth across his mind.

“Was somebody out there with you?” he asks.

You shake your head, even though the thought elicits a painful twinge in your heart. 

“Who…” you try to speak again, even though it hurts a little. “Who are you?”

You feel him take a deep breath. He hesitates, like he’s reluctant to give it to you. 

“Dean,” he says. 

You roll the name around in your head, over and over. Dean, Dean, Dean…

You smile slightly. “Yeah, makes sense.”

“What?” he says. You hear the raised brow in his tone. 

“You sound like a Dean,” you say, perhaps a little delirious. 

Anyway, that’s when your eyes close on you again. You fall back into the warm lull of sleep, to the sound of a crackling fire, and a feeling that permeates throughout your body.

Safe.

Can’t fucking believe this, Dean thinks, as he holds you. Just when he thought his life was done throwing him curveballs.

He tips his head back against the sofa cushion with a tired exhale. It would just be his luck to find a stray omega wandering his stretch of Big Sky. Montana can be gnarly in the winter, but for the past couple of years, Dean has learned to survive here in this rental cabin for a couple of months at a time, when wandering an empty bunker gets to be too much. At least here the quiet’s peaceful, if still a little unnerving sometimes. 

He glances down at you. Now that you’re warm and sleeping again, he should find something to wrap your ankle and ice it down. It’s swollen, and he wants to take an inventory of your other injuries, so he can determine how to get you back down the mountain and through the woods, back to civilization.

The sooner he gets you medical attention and back to your life, the sooner he can get back to his—even though the thought of leaving you in anyone else’s hands almost stirs a growl in his throat.

And that last part unnerves him, makes him anxious. He begins to untangle himself from you, but his movements falter when your sweet scent filters through his nose again. Cinnamon apples, with a hint of something floral. 

Fuck me.

It’s almost too sweet to be true, but Dean does his best to ignore it…and what that alluring sweetness probably means. 

Dean leaves you in the morning to revisit the site where you fell. He digs through the snow and manages to find your backpack, filled with your clothes, supplies, and your phone and wallet. He returns just in time. 

The falling snow becomes even more intense, until it becomes a quiet roar outside. You watch the snowstorm through the impact windows in the kitchen, and you know what this means. You’re snowed in with a stranger—an alpha, no less. 

You also have a bum ankle, which he wrapped for you. Doesn’t feel broken, he’d said, but it could be fractured, or at the very least sprained. You also likely have a couple of cracked ribs. 

“What were you doing out there, anyway?” he asks, while pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “This ain’t exactly hiking season.”

While you drink some hot chocolate he made you with a bit of whiskey splashed in (for extra warmth), you explain.

“Well, I guess it wasn’t my best idea in hindsight,” you say with a weak chuckle. “I was trying to find my way back, and I…well, I was a bit lost.”

He raises his brows wryly, still sipping.

“And to make a great situation even better, I thought I heard a wolf howl nearby,” you say. “I know most of them would rather run from us than attack us, but you can’t be sure, you know? I had my rifle on me, so I was turning around, trying to pinpoint what direction it was in…and of course, my foot slipped on something.”

You fell down that hill. You think you even hit a tree on the way down, which would explain your ribs. Everything gets a bit swirly, cold, and dark in your memory after that. 

Dean shakes his head. “Gotta say, going out there alone wasn’t a great idea either, especially now. This time of year, there’s no telling when a blizzard like this is going to come through.”

He waves haphazardly toward the storm raging outside. Your gaze falls to the mug in your hands. You don’t really want to talk about your reasons for taking that risk, but maybe giving him a little honesty will get him off your back.

“My dad and I used to hike up here every year,” you confess. “A few months ago…I lost him. So I guess this was just something I needed to do.”

You blow on your hot chocolate before you take another sip. This time when you glance up, Dean’s judgy expression has evened out into something more sympathetic. He lowers his glass.

“Well, hate to break it to you, but there’s no cell service up here,” he says.

You give a humorless huff. “Believe me, I know.”

“Which means no one can come up here and get you,” he continues, “and even when this storm breaks, I can’t carry you all the way down the mountain back to civilization. Not with the snow as deep as it’s gonna get. Now…maybe I can go down by myself and bring help back with me.”

“But another storm could snow me in,” you realize, with growing apprehension at the thought.

Dean nods. “It’s either I take that chance, leave you by yourself. Or we wait for you to heal up.”

He leaves the choice up to you with a gesture of his hand, the one still wrapped around his glass. You weigh those options with a tilt of your head. On one hand, you don't want to impose on him longer than you had to, but on the other, you really don't want to be left alone in this cabin for God knows how long while he scales the mountain by himself, for your sake.

“I think it would be better if we go down together, right? It can be dangerous, even when the storm breaks,” you reply.

Dean nods slowly, like that was what he was going to suggest too. “All right. Well, until you’ve got two working legs, you’re stuck here with me.”

“I figured as much,” you say. Your head tilts as you consider him. He has a gruff exterior, but all his actions so far have been kind, and far more than you’d expect from a stranger. And an alpha at that. 

Not to say that all alpha's are assholes, but you've had far too many experiences with the stereotype: arrogant, entitled, and handsy. Can't forget handsy. 

“Thank you for saving me,” you say, meeting his gaze, “and for…well, being a decent guy.”

Dean’s lips twitch. He nearly chuckles. Instead, he sits back on his side of the couch. 

“Yeah, well, there’s a spare room in this place for you, one bathroom. The kitchen is stocked. I’m a half-decent cook, if I say so myself, but help yourself.”

He gets up from the couch without preamble, to go to his room, you assume. It leaves you feeling at a loss, like he’s trying to get away from you. You know you’re a guest in his space, so you try to respect the way he wants to be alone for a while. He definitely gives off loner vibes. 

You look around and find a collection of vinyl records, and smaller collection of books on a shelf next to the fireplace. You find Gulliver’s Travels, Dune, The Odyssey, The Wizard of Oz—books you didn’t think a guy like Dean would be into. 

You take up The Wizard of Oz, reclaim your spot on the chaise, and start reading.

That night, your dreams are plagued by the crunch of dead leaves, your father shouting at you to run, and to keep running.

The coarse roar of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short.  

You wake with a start, your body both cold and flush at the same time.

Dean is there once again. It confuses you at first, but then it all returns to you in a rush—the where and the why you’re here, once again with the alpha standing over you in concern. He grasps your shoulder and asks if you’re all right. Your breathing is too erratic for you to answer him, your eyes too wide, your body trembling.

Had you been making noise in your sleep? You blush in embarrassment at the thought. You also feel bad for waking him, and all those things get trapped in your throat.

Seeing that you’re most definitely not fine, he sits on the edge of the bed, squeezes your arm, and reminds you. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe here,” he tells you. His tone is deep and even, reassuring.

You meet his steady gaze and manage to nod, trying to catch your breath. 

“I’m okay,” you say, with a shaky nod. He gives you a measuring look, both a question and a confirmation. You give it to him with a firmer nod. “Thanks, I…I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He exhales through his nose, accepting. “‘S all right. Don’t worry about it.” 

You feel the loss of his touch when his hand eventually slip away from your shoulder. As soon as he came into your room, he’s gone. 

Dean leaves swiftly, trying to brush off how the scent of your fear had tugged sharply at his gut even in his sleep. It not only woke him up, but compelled him to kick his blankets off and get out of bed to go to you.  

You were having a nightmare, reliving your fall, if he had to guess. You came out of it pretty quick when he carefully grabbed your shoulder. Every instinct in his body told him to gather you into his arms and cover you with his own scent and protective embrace to calm you down. 

Through sheer willpower, he managed to ignore every single one of those instincts.  

Two days pass, in which you and Dean say very little to one another, besides when he asks you what you want to eat, and how you’re feeling. The alpha seems genuine, but guarded any time you ask him about him; anything that’ll give you a clue into who this guy is, and why he’s here. 

You try again to strike up some kind of conversation over dinner one night. 

“Do you live here year-round?” you ask, around a mouthful of burger that’s absolutely delicious. He wasn’t lying when he claimed to be a good cook. He even made the fries himself.

“No,” he replies. “No Netflix, no internet? Think I’d die of boredom. I just come up here to uh…take a beat, I guess.” 

You smile. “I don’t blame you. Sometimes you just need a break,” you say, even though your tone is heavier than you meant it to be. Your gaze, a bit distant in that moment, sharpens and focuses back on Dean. “Where are you from, then?”

“Kansas,” he offers.

“Oh really?” You brighten with that scrap of information. “My older sister lives in Topeka. She moved there for a job, initially, but then she met her guy. He’s some kind of day trader. Which is just code for sits on his ass playing Call of Duty while she busts hers.” 

Dean huffs, then crams more burger into his mouth. He hasn’t been giving you a lot to go on while you two have been talking. Unfortunately, you have the tendency to ramble and fill the silence before it becomes even more stifled. 

“She works at a bank. Smart, driven, always knows what she wants. Meanwhile, I’ve had about seven jobs in the last three years, none of which were even remotely related to my almost useless degree in Communications.”

“Yeah, doubt you need a degree in communicating,” Dean remarks, popping another fry into his mouth.

 You purse your lips at him, but the glint of teasing in his eyes makes you fight not to smile. 

“All right, smart guy. So, what about you?” you ask.

Predictably, the man’s walls firm back up. “What about me?”

“Well…why’re you up here alone? Do you have family?” you ask.

Dean quirks a half smile. “I’ve got a brother.”

“Okay. Younger, I’m guessing?”

He tilts his head at you, a bit amused at your guess. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I can’t imagine you with a brother who’s older than you.”

His lips twitch. “You callin’ me old, sweetheart?”

You begin to blush with embarrassment. But also, sweetheart?

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just mean like…”

Dean saves you with the return of his smile.

“Yeah, he’s younger,” he says. “But he’s the one with the quasi-wife and the apple pie life.” 

“Quasi-wife?”

“They’re mated. Just haven’t gotten around to the whole getting hitched thing,” he explains. “But they’re happy. Dean Jr.’s growing up fast, already running full speed into glass doors.”

His smile is genuine when he talks about his brother, just tinged with a bit of melancholy, you think. 

“Dean Jr.?” you ask in amusement. Dean Sr. laughs a little, and you enjoy the sound, the way it lightens up his face and pulls at the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, can’t say I wasn’t surprised myself to get that honor, but…hey, it works for the kid. He’s got my chin,” he remarks.

He digs into his pocket to show you a picture from his cell phone. Even though it doesn’t have service, you can still view the many pictures of the adorable infant in his camera roll, courtesy of Sam and his mate, Eileen. You coo at the chubby cheeks, the bright little eyes, and the swirled tuft of dark hair on his head.

“Where do they live?” you ask.

“Out west, a stone’s throw from the City of Angels.” Dean’s smile dims. “He just had to go back to California.”

“What’s wrong with California?” you ask.

“It’s full of pretentious douchebags, that’s what,” he says, his voice a dry whip. “Waxed up to the fucking eyeballs, smelling like Botox, Adderall, and sweaty desperation.”

You splutter laughing so bad that your diet coke escapes you in a spit take. It partially goes up into your nose, burning, stinging your eyes, but it’s made worse by the way Dean waves a hand up incredulously. You’ve just gotten half his sleeve wet.

He meets your gaze, and you can’t help but laugh even harder. 

“Wow,” he says. 

“God, I’m sorry,” you say, still giggling. You get up, hobble over to the kitchen counter, and rip off a paper towel to try and pat his arm dry. He takes it from you and helps you back into your seat.

“I got it, Spit Take. Just finish your food,” he says, if with a dancing gleam in his eyes.  

From then on, it becomes easier for you to pull the alpha into conversation. Besides reading, napping, and staring out the window while it snows, you don’t have much by way of entertainment. Not to mention the pain of trying to get around without crutches, as it also jostles your ribs. Dean often has to help you from one room to another, which of course, you get embarrassed by.

“I’m sorry!” you yelp, when he saves you from another crash landing in the hallway. You’re fresh out of a shower, and it had taken you twenty minutes just to figure out how to wash your hair on one leg, let alone dry yourself off and get your shirt and borrowed sweatpants on. The main problem in getting back to your room happened to be the pants themselves. Their length and bagginess made you slip.

At least Dean’s learned to ignore your apologies. He now holds you by the waist, having pulled you against his chest on reflex. With furrowed brows, he notices your pained hiss when you grab onto his arms for balance.

“You okay?” he asks with a note of alarm.

“Ribs,” you gasp. They’re throbbing sharply with his hold, especially after being rattled by the near fall.

He immediately adjusts his hold lower, holding your arm and hip to support you. His hands are strong, but gentle. The warmth and pressure of his touch rattles you more than almost falling into a heap. Cliché as it might be, your heart is beating faster, what seems like in and out of rhythm. A feeling you can’t name stirs and tugs at your lower belly when you hazard looking up into his eyes. They’re a nice shade of green, like a forest floor in the spring.

“You just go ass over tea kettle at any moment, huh?” he quips, his lips tugging upward. “Come on. Where were you headed?”

“To my room, wise guy,” you say wryly, even as your blush heats your face and neck. “But this is a great taxi service.”

He snorts. “Yeah, call it the Winchestermobile.”

“Winchester. That your last name? Like the rifle?” you ask, while he helps you carefully down the hall. He nods in confirmation.

“That’s interesting. You don’t meet many Winchesters,” you remark.

“Yeah, well, ain’t that many left,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, easing you down onto the edge of the bed. His hands go to his hips as he scrutinizes your form for further injury. “You good? I was about to get cracking on some lunch.”

You offer him a grateful smile. “Yeah, I’m good. What’s on the menu?”

“Nothing fancy. I’m thinking grilled cheese. Maybe some tomato soup, assuming I can find a can in the pantry,” he says.

“Honestly, that sounds awesome,” you say. “Haven’t had a grilled since…God, probably since I was a kid.”

At that, Dean smiles. “Well, I happen to make an awesome one. No less than three kinds of cheese.”

“If they’re as good as your burgers, then I don’t doubt it,” you reply. He seems pleased at that, and maybe a little bashful as his gaze falls away.

Cute, you think. Your smile grows.

“All right, well, stay tuned,” he says. He winks, tossing you a “gun for hand” gesture that makes you laugh. Dean wears a rugged exterior as easily as his winter jacket, but he’s also kind of a dork.

After lunch (delicious, as you predicted), you take the afternoon just to sort through Dean’s records and alphabetize them for him. You hunker down on the floor in front of the shelf, close to the record player. 

“I don’t need all that. I know where all my stuff is…more or less,” he says, with a lazy wave of the beer he has in hand. 

“Oh really?” you raise a brow. “Okay, let’s test that theory. Where’s Boston.” 

“Right next to the White Album, there on the left.”

Sure enough, you find Boston, as well as the White Album by the Beatles.  

“Oh my God, you actually have the White Album?” You open up the double-sided case in excitement to read the list of songs printed on the inside. “This thing is so expensive.” 

“Beatles fan, huh?” Dean says as he takes a seat on the couch. You turn your smile on him, and he stills in his seat.

“Uh, yeah. Who isn’t?” you say.

Dean shrugs with a smile of his own. “Put it on if you want.”

You bounce a little with excitement before you figure out how to turn on his record player. You put the vinyl album on Side B, moving the needle until you find “Blackbird.”

“Of course,” Dean says, slightly teasing. You turn to him with crunched brows.  

“What? ‘Blackbird’s’ a classic.”

“Eh. Everyone likes ‘Blackbird.’”

“That’s what a classic means,” you argue.

“More like a mainstream copout,” he says. You think it’s just to needle you, but you still purse your lips. 

“Fine, Mr. Music Snob. Then what’s your favorite?”

“On the White Album?”

“Any Beatles song.”

“‘Hey, Jude,’” he says, after a moment. There’s some kind of weight in his eyes, a note of melancholy. You don’t miss it, even though you don’t know why it’s there.

“Everyone likes ‘Hey, Jude,’” you quip, trying to lighten him. 

He smiles a little. “Yeah. Fair enough.”

Finally, the snowstorm breaks. Dean ventures outside and brings you back a long, sturdy stick to lean your weight on when you want to move around, though he claims he’s working on a better solution. Now that the snow has let up, he’ll be able to go out to the shed and do some work. 

Whatever that means, you think.

You watch him from the living room when he goes outside to chop some more firewood. 

He should really wear a hat. His brown hair is getting dusted white with snow flurries as he continues to swing down the ax. You notice the power in his tall frame, even covered by layers of his jacket, pants, and boots. You almost feel each chop of the wood resonate in your chest. 

Heat rises in your cheeks when he looks up, as if he senses he’s being watched. You bow your head and pretend to read your book.

His boots continue to crunch in the snow as he makes trips back and forth from the surrounding forest. Aside from the firewood, he brings back a few long, thinner logs that he takes to the shed. Soon you begin to hear the steady back-and-forth cutting of a saw. You wish you could go out there and take a look, but you can’t even get around the house that easily, let alone venture outside.

Your curiosity about this man knows no bounds, and you decide to use the walking stick he found for you in the meantime to get around without putting pressure on your injured ankle. You know it’s wrong, but you end up traversing the long, dark hallway, pushing open the door to the right, and venturing into Dean’s room. 

It smells like him, earthy and tinged with smoke. His scent is seeped into every part of it—the bed, the dresser and nightstands, the dark blue bedsheets, the desk and chair, and even the drapes. It makes you almost lightheaded at the pleasurable feeling of it washing over you.

A shudder suddenly runs down your spine and tugs at your core in arousal. With a sharp intake of breath, you have to shift on your feet, pressing your legs together against the slick already forming down below.

You’re shocked and embarrassed at first. You aim to bolt out of his room, but you stop short in the doorway as it dawns on you.

Your sister is a beta, and so is her husband. She’s never completely understood you as an omega. She never understood your parents either, or the bond they had. She always scoffed at the idea of “true mates.”

Soulmates. It was fantasy and myth, the stuff of cheesy Harlequin novels.

Growing up, you’d agreed with her, even though a part of you deep down always protested. It wanted to tell her not to open her mouth about something she knew nothing about, and would never know. 

The day you met Dean, you knew she was wrong. 

Your more logical mind tries again to reassert itself though. You remind yourself that you barely know anything about this man, no matter how attractive, kind, funny, enigmatic… 

And yet, you can’t shake that part of you that doesn’t rest until you see his face in the morning; until you make him coffee and eat breakfast together, and take any opportunity to pull more threads from him. It’s more than passing attraction. It’s more than just being stuck together in this cabin, unable to escape each other. You know, because the feeling scares you, and it electrifies your blood at the same time.

All these thoughts go through your mind when you turn back around. Slowly, you continue to look around his room, your whole body tingling. The room is neat, more or less, with everything in its proper place. It’s pretty bare though, décor wise. There’s a desk with a few scattered books and a journal sandwiched in between. A smile of surprise forms across your face.

No. Don’t tell me this guy is Mr. Dear Diary? you think in amusement. Though you wonder if it’s another way he passes his time here, especially when he’s holed up in his room.

You know you shouldn’t be snooping, let alone contemplating what you’re about to do…but you can’t help yourself. Biting your lip, you slide out the journal and begin to flip through it. 

You frown at the strange drawings and odd entries—dates, narratives, scraps of information on different types of mythological creatures, and even more strange, on how to kill them. 

What the hell is this?

That’s when you hear the front door swing open. You bolt from his room as quick as you can, not realizing you took the journal with you in your haste. You stuff it up your sweater and pretend like you’ve just come out of the bathroom on the way back to your room. There you slide the journal under your pillow. You jump when Dean knocks on your door.

“Hey,” he greets.

The jolting pains your ribs, and your hand goes to your left side in a hiss. 

“You okay?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. He takes a step into your room, but you turn to him with a nod and a placating hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just scared me,” you say, with a bit of nervous laughter.

He gives a half smile. “Sorry. Just come ‘ere a sec. I wanna show you something.”

He reaches out a hand to help guide you to the living room.

There he presents you with two rudimentary crutches. Your eyes widen as your free hand passes over the smooth chestnut color of the wood. Dean keeps a light hold on your elbow, just in case.

“You made these?” you ask.

“Yeah, just a bit of woodworking. Picked it up over the last couple of years,” he says.

He’s downplaying it, but you’re nothing short of marveling. You set aside the walking stick in favor of picking up the crutches, and they’re even the right size to position them under your arms.

“Now you don’t have to hobble around like Long John Silver,” Dean quips. You meet the sight of his grin with a raised brow, but you soon begin to smile. When you get close enough to him, you lean the crutches against the couch and give him a warm hug, resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” you say. It’s something he was wholly unprepared for, but he hugs you back with a chuckle.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Just then, he tries not to inhale your scent. He tries not to focus on the feeling of your body pressed soft and warm against his. You fit just right. 

After a beat, you have mercy on him and pull away. You take your crutches back up and continue to walk around the living room experimentally. 

“You think I’d be okay trying to go outside?” you ask on your way to the door. Dean tenses.

“Uh, I don’t think—”

But you’re already halfway out the door. He shakes his head and follows you with swift strides. He watches you step out carefully onto the porch like a baby deer. He cleared the snow this morning from the deck and the steps, but he’s more concerned when he sees you considering how you might step out onto the snow.

“Stay on the porch, all right, Bambi,” he warns. “You’re not wearing snow boots and it’s still pretty deep. Not to mention, I’ve been keeping an eye out for a bear that wandered through here last week—”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder in amusement.

“Okay, Alpha. Calm down,” you say playfully. “I’m not gonna go ass over tea kettle.”  

His brow twitches as he frowns. Alpha. He fights not to show his reaction to the way you said it; it calls to his baser instincts, almost stirring a rumble in his chest.

Cheeky little omega.

You keep to the porch, but regardless, you’re happy. You don’t even mind the cold. You see your breath on the air, and you tip your head back, closing your eyes with a smile as the sunshine warms your face. You inhale through your nose and let it out slowly in contentment. 

“It’s a good day, Dean,” you say quietly. 

You don’t realize that he’s watching you with a more reserved smile on his face. When he realizes it, he shakes his head at himself. He’s only been here a week with you, and it’ll probably take a couple more for your ankle to heal up well enough for you to walk again, let alone get down the mountain. 

He doesn’t want to leave you alone up here, so he’ll have to somehow keep fending off your probing questions into his past and personal life. There's a lifetime of blood, nightmares, and death that he just can't let you see behind his eyes.

Hell, he's been trying to shove it all down for the past year—in booze and odd jobs and trips to nowhere, always coming back to an empty bunker. He still wonders how Sam's managed to do it, to move on, and build a new life for himself.

If Dean's honest (and he's not), he feels a bit like this cabin; old, falling apart, and forgotten.

But he’ll have to keep taking in your brightness and warmth, continue arguing with you about music and other inane shit, and pretend that every small touch of yours doesn’t ignite his skin. That it doesn’t make him have to beat down every instinct he has to pull you into his body and blanket you with his scent, ravage you, claim you, and make you his. 

He never thought this would happen to him. He never thought someone like you was out there…for someone like him.

He knows it though, deep in his gut. You’re meant for him. You’re meant to be his mate.

Which means he’s already screwed. 

AN: And we're off! Special thanks again to Michelle (@luci-in-trenchcoats) for being my sounding board when I was first writing this series. Let me know what you think of Part 1! 💜

Next Time:

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed…

When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

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