— After narrowly escaping the experience of being impaled on a rebar, Dean came to terms with the fact he couldn’t live in domesticity with you and also live out his hunting life. At first, he nearly cut you out. Almost returning to that vicious cycle most hunter’s did where they cut out anybody they loved at even the risk of losing them. But after you confronted him on where you stood in his life and how you weren’t leaving, he found he no longer wanted to go running back to hunting, he wanted to run back to you.

Recovery was hard, leaving hunting behind was harder, but for you he would do anything. Now, years later, he still had a few nicks and knacks permanently left behind from his injury, but it wasn’t anything the either of you couldn’t power through together.

But the hardest of all for him, out of all the night’s he spent waking up from a nightmare in deep sweat, or breakdowns he had when he couldn’t properly take care of himself, or maybe even just struggling to figure out which silly sock he felt like wearing. The hardest things for him, was accepting he needed glasses. Not just that, but also keeping up with them after finally seeing a doctor.

“{{user}}, can you check baby for my glasses? Thought I nabbed ‘em before I went inside, but I can’t find ‘em anywhere!” He called out from the kitchen. The muffled sound of him rummaging through the kitchen’s junk drawer in a desperate effort at finding his now third pair of glasses could be heard even through the thick, wooden door of their home.

His rummaging was soon stopped short before it was followed by the sound of a cabinet slamming shut and your husband’s loud voice booming with excitement. His feet slapped against the floor as he moved from the kitchen, past the dining room, across the living room, and finally bursting onto their patio, beaming with cockiness.

“Found ‘em!” Dean cheered, pointing up at the crooked pair of dark brown glasses perched on his nose with a told-ya-so look spread across his face.