A/N: Okay, I had this idea for a very long time, but never knew how to execute it. After watching 'The Eye' starring Jessica Alba I was able to put it all together. Here is the first chapter. Enjoy and please be gentle, I bruise easy, hehe.

Disclaimer: Same old, same old. We get it. But Kripke does get props for owning such a kick ass show. Rock on dude!

Dean lifted the gun, the spirit in his sights. His hands were steady as a rock, knowing that from years of experience he could take the thing down.

"Make my day you son of a bitch."

Dean cocked the gun and then let off a shot. The spirit let off a loud scream just as he did so, causing Dean to drop his guard. The bullet ricocheted off a pipe sending a blast of intensely hot steam into Dean's face.

Dean crashed to the floor, the spirit escaping in a puff of smoke. Dean grabbed at his face. Sam slipped around the corner to find his brother yelling in pain on the floor.

He rushed to Dean's side grabbing him. Dean jumped.

"Dean, what happened?"

Dean mumbled incoherently, but Sam was able to hear two words through the rambling: 'My eyes."

Sam grabbed at Dean's hands, trying to pry them off his face. He wouldn't let him.

"Dean, please. Let me see."

Dean was still crying in pain, but he allowed Sam to pull his hands away. Sam pulled back as he saw how damaged his brother's eyes were. The whites of his eyes were a yellowish color with deep crimson lines streaking from the outer edges to the pupils. The skin around his eyes was a crisp red. Some of the flesh was peeling. Many of his eyelashes were stiff and darkened and some were missing. Dean was trying to see, but squinted from the obvious pain.

Sam waved a hand in front of his brother's face. When Dean did not respond, Sam swallowed hard.

"Dean we have to get you…Dean, Dean?!"

Sam's words were cut off as his brother slowly began to slip into unconsciousness.

XXXX

The doctor waved a penlight in Dean's eyes, which resulted in little to no reaction of his pupils.

"Okay, seems to me that you've got some corneal damage Mr. Richards."

He wrote something down on a small tablet, nodding to himself and then slipped it back in his breast pocket.

"So Doctor Steele, when can we expect my brother to see again?"

Dr. Steele turned to Sam, who was sitting on the edge of Dean's bed staring hard at him, as if he could will him to see. If Dean could see how his brother was looking at him, he would have decked him.

"Well your condition, which I won't downplay, is bad. Although I do believe Dean could see at the very least shadows and some shapes in the next few days. A direct hit like that to the eye can put you out of commission for some time. I say that your brother should have a full recovery within a week, with the proper treatment."

Sam smiled slowly and gripped Dean's hand.

"Dean, did you hear that? You might be able to see within a week."

Dean shook his head.

"Dude, I'm blind, not deaf. I heard the man."

Dean sat up, unable to distinguish anyone or anything at present. Everything was black. Never in his life would Dean have thought he would know what it was like to be blind. It was an altogether new feeling for him.

"Um, Doc. When do you think I can leave? This whole not being able to see and being stuck in a hospital room thing kind of weirds me out."

Dr. Steele chuckled.

"I understand. It can get a bit confined in here under the best of circumstances. I think tomorrow would be a good guess. We need to monitor you, just to make sure that your eyes don't get infected, and then we will see if you can go home. Deal?"

Dean nodded. Anything to get out of the hospital. He had too many bad memories of these places, and it would be a comfort to get back to the motel and sleep in his own bed. He heard Sam whisper to the doctor, followed by footfalls exiting the room. Oh yeah, that's fine. Take advantage of the cripple, he won't mind.

Dean leaned back against the bed, closing his eyes. Not that it mattered really, things looked the same opened or closed. He could have left them opened and went to sleep just as easily. But it was the principal of the thing, so he closed them anyway.

As he drifted off to sleep, a strange feeling washed over him. He felt like he was drowning. Water was all around him, in his lungs, his mouth and even in his nose. It surrounded him and made it hard to breathe. Dean fought against it, struggling to pull his head to the surface.

Suddenly, something grabbed at his throat, gripping tightly. Not only was he fighting against the weight that was pressing against every part of his body, now he had an invisible hold clenching his throat with such a force, it was threatening to snap his neck.

Without warning, everything ceased. Dean could breathe and the wall of water around him fell away. He shot up in the bed, his heart pounding. Next to him the EKG machine was beeping erratically.

The doctor rushed in, Sam right behind him. As the doctor dealt with the monitor, Sam sat beside his brother.

"What happened?"

Dean's face was pale. He tried to look at his brother, but he only succeeded in looking toward the hospital room door.

"I don't have any clue Sam. All I know is I want the hell out of here."

XXXX

The drive back to the motel was a quiet one. Dean sat stoic in the passenger seat, his arms crossed. Sam merely stared out the front window watching cars pass them by. He had no choice but to drive, even though Dean had been adamant about it. He did not like the fact that Sam was driving his car and he was incapable of seeing what his brother was doing with her.

"Doctor Steele told me that despite what happened yesterday, everything was progressing normally."

Sam turned slowly to look at Dean, who only shrugged.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened, or do I have to assume you'd rather keep it to yourself?"

Dean sighed.

"Sam, listen. What happened was just a symptom of my condition, nothing more, nothing less. Can we just get back to the motel?"

Sam opened his mouth, but decided that right now Dean just wanted to recover and didn't need his baby brother bothering him with annoying questions.

"By the way, could you please turn that whiny ass music off? I know you like that Emo crap, but please for the love of God, just because I can't see doesn't mean you have full reign over my stereo."

Dean felt for the knob on the radio, and after hitting the dashboard finally connected with the radio. He snapped off John Mayer's incessant droning about some girl's body being a wonderland. If he had been able to roll his eyes without wincing, he would have.

"Sorry. I just thought I would play something slow, not something that might be too heavy. Just thinking of you is all."

Dean sighed again.

"Sam, don't. I may be blind, but I can take care of myself. I don't need you to think for me."

Sam grit his teeth. He understood what his brother was saying, understood that he didn't want to be treated like a child right now, but he didn't have to be such a hardass about it.

XXXX

Back at the motel, Dean struggled to get to his bed. He banged his shin on a small side table which caused him to curse aloud. Sam tried to steer him in the right direction, but he shoved him away.

"What did I tell you? I can do this myself. I don't need your help."

Sam mumbled something to himself.

"You know what Sam; I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave me alone okay."

Sam bit his bottom lip as Dean found his bed and flopped down on it. He watched his brother roll to his left and within moments fell asleep. Sam sat on his own bed and despite what Dean had said to him, he would keep an eye on him.

XXXX

Dean woke up later that evening, and instinctively began to wipe at his eyes. All Dean was able to touch was the cotton and hard plastic Dr. Steele had made sure to cover them with. The hard covering pushed into his eyes, making him grunt.

Dean had no clue what time it was, but he figured it was late. He needed a bath; he had only light sponge baths at the hospital which did not cut it. The doctor had advised him against showers since water in the face was a no-no.

Edging his way from the bed, he could hear that Sam was asleep. He was breathing slowly and deeply. Dean lowered his head. He had been a jerk to the kid. Sam had only been trying to help and Dean had bit his head off. It was just that Dean was never one for wanting help. He always wanted to do things on his own, especially now. He felt people treated him like an invalid in this condition. That was never a great position to be in. He made a mental note to apologize to Sam in the morning, it was only right.

Once in the tub, Dean felt relaxed. He had been right, he needed this. Dean leaned back and soaked until he was sure he became a prune. Cleaning himself up as best he could, he unplugged the tub.

Carefully stepping out, he worked his way to the sink. Now was the challenge. He had to brush his teeth, but couldn't see them.

"Okay, let's see how I work this."

Dean groped for the mirror and opened it. He touched a tube, which he hoped was toothpaste, and pulled it out. Opening the cap, he sniffed it. It was.

"Okay, score one for Longstreet."

After a few attempts he got a bit of tooth paste on his brush. Turning the water on in the sink, he started to brush his teeth. As he leaned over to spit, his heart almost stopped.

The sink was there all right, but he could see it. He could see the water flowing from the faucet in a steady stream. Dean dropped the brush onto the floor. His hands went to his face. The gauze and plastic were still in place, so there was no way he would be able to see anything so clearly.

As he stared in shock at what had manifested in front of him, the water started to gurgle. It backed up, spat, and then suddenly rushed out a dark earthy brown. It filled the entire basin, flowed over the sides and splattered onto the tile floor. Dean stepped back, slipping on the floor. Behind him he heard more gurgling. Dean shot around to see the tub begin to fill up the same way. Filthy brown water crept to the edges of the tub and then worked its way over. Dean stood frozen to the spot. Normally something like this would be common place and not cause him to falter, but this was not under normal circumstances. How could he be seeing this when he couldn't see? It wasn't possible.

The water finally stopped flowing. The water was calm, but still murky. Dean swallowed hard not sure what he should do. He guessed the only thing to do was to check it out. So he stepped forward.

Dean knelt in front of the tub, pulling back slightly as the smell of something rotten invaded his nostrils. He fought off nausea and leaned in not sure of what to expect. He stared into the water, his pulse pounding. Nothing happened. The water remained calm and it seemed as if all there was was the smell which in and of itself was bad enough.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, even though it was odd that he could see all this, and then leaned against the tub. He rubbed his forehead, still wondering what was going on. He sighed again, when a hand reached out of the tub, grabbing him around the neck, dragging him under.