A/N This is my first fanfiction ever so please be kind. I live off constructive criticism so that would be nice. I think this will be the only chapter from Dean's view point so there is that. Please note that I am not blind so any thing wrong in how I write blind people is completely my fault, please tell me what's wrong so I can change it.

Dean entered the coffee shop, the smell of warm air and coffee hit him as the door shut behind him. He stood there for a moment breathing

deeply, the scent cinnamon and sugar woven into the coffee smell.

"The way's clear, just walk straight." Sam called from the back of the shop, Dean nodded his thanks. He folded up his cane and stuck it into the pocket of his leather jacket. He walked forward carefully, counting his steps as he went.

Dean was blind; he hadn't been able to see since he had turned twelve, he was now twenty-four and used to it. It wasn't like he had much of a choice otherwise, right?

"Hey Dean, you want the usual?" Jo's chipper voice asked as soon as he reached the counter. Thirty steps to the counter half a step to the left and he was at the register. Sam, his brother, had led him all around the shop when he had first gotten the job three years ago. Dean had the entire shop memorized now.

"Yeah, that and a slice of your apple pie would be nice." He said with a smile. He hoped that the pie had been fresh made that morning.

He heard the bell ring above the entrance but didn't pay any attention to it. It was probably Gabriel going to change the chalkboard sign again. Sam and Gabriel had been fighting over what went on the sign since they had started working there. Sam thought that the day's specials should go on there. Gabriel thought that dirty limericks would bring in more customers. He felt a hand land on his shoulder with a clap. The weight was too familiar to cause him any unease.

"I'll be at the first table, at your eight o'clock," Sam said. Dean called to Jo telling her to make it two coffees. Jo handed Dean the coffees, and told him she'll bring the pie to his table.

Dean turned straight around, and FUCK SHIT FUCK.

There was a person standing behind him, Dean had walked right into him spilling his coffee all over himself. His really hot coffee, Dean started swearing, dropping the paper cups. He hadn't even heard the guy behind him, and Dean heard pretty much everything.

"I'm sorry," the voice said. It was deep and gravelly. "Here, let me help you." Hands were on him, hands he didn't know. Hands that were slightly unwelcome at this point in time. Dean knocked them away with a quick "I got this."

Sam was beside him now, his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Dean, you okay man?"

"Yeah, fine," was the reply. Dean's hands stung. But Sam didn't need to know that right now. Dean knew it would only make him worry, Sam had more than enough to worry about without Dean adding to the pile.

"Here, take these," said the mystery man. Dean assumed that he must be holding something out for him to grab, napkins maybe? Dean held his hand out hoping the guy would just hand them over and leave. He didn't really want the guy to try and help him. It would be pathetic to have a stranger try and help clean him. The napkins slid into his open hand.

"You should watch where you're going." Sam huffed out at the man. Dean could hear the glare in his voice. Dean wiped at his shirt. He would have to go home and change, it was already cooling. It sent a chill down his spine as the wet cloth moved against his skin. God he hated wet clothes.

"As I said before, I'm sorry. You don't see me telling him that he should watch where he was going, though it would be within my rights at this moment." The man growled back at Sam. Oh, he had done it now. Dean had his glasses on so Mr. Gravelly couldn't see his blank eyes, but there was nothing that got Sam's hackles up more than someone who made stupid comments, it didn't matter that the guy didn't know. Dean decided it would be best to nip this in the bud before Sam started yelling.

"Well, it's kinda hard to watch where I'm going, especially since I can't see." He said with a smirk. He pulled out his cane and held it next to his head giving a little wave with it.

"Oh." That shut up Mystery Man. Jo cleared her throat from behind the counter. "You still want that pie?"

When Dean left after an hour he had had enough of Sam ranting about the guy. The wet clothing had added to Dean's irritation. It hadn't even been that bad really, so what if the guy hadn't noticed Dean was blind. It wasn't that bad a thing to miss. He left the coffee shop, after getting a promise from Sam that he would bring pie home once he was done with his shift.

Dean got to his apartment just fine, it was an old brick building by the feel of it. Dean and Sam lived on the second floor. There were four apartments on each floor, each taking a corner of the building up. He could hear something happening in the apartment next to the one he and Sam shared. It had been empty for a while after the last tenant had died. Mrs. Harold, she had made great snicker doodles. They completely made up for the fact that she always left her old newspapers in a pile next her door. It had tripped Dean up for weeks until he started walking along the other side.

Dean could hear swearing coming from the closed door. Seemed like someone was having trouble with their kitchen, Dean smiled. He would go over there later and introduce himself, and ask that they not leave their mail in the hallway. They might be a little more compliant than old Mrs. Harold. But he would do that later, probably when the swearing stopped.

Dean could walk through the apartment easily, after five years of living there he and Sam had not moved a single piece of furniture around. Even if Sam had wanted to he wouldn't do it. There would be too much of a chance that Dean would forget about it and trip over something. Which Dean had done in the past. Sam was younger than him by four years, but he was very protective of Dean, especially nowadays. Dean did his best not to get annoyed by it.

He walked into the back room, his room, after he left his keys and glasses on a table next to the front door. He didn't wear the glasses inside. Really, what did he have to hide here? This place knew his secrets. Knew his shames, he kinda liked it like that. Sam had the corner bedroom, since it had more windows. So Dean shared a wall with the new neighbor. Sam had tried to give Dean the corner bedroom, but Dean had downright refused it. What use would he have for it anyway? It's not like he could look out the windows. When he told Sam that his brother had gone quiet and that meant that Dean had said something that Sam disapproved of. Dean pulled the older brother card, something he did as often as he could. "Seriously, I don't want that room, I like this room. It's nicely spaced and all the shit." He had said. So Sam had shut his mouth and let Dean have his way.

He changed out of his now dry shirt. Sam had said that the coffee didn't show on it but it felt stiff and made Dean uncomfortable wearing it. He put on a fresh t-shirt and a flannel over shirt. There, that was much better.

Dean walked into the living room and sat on the couch, it was worn and old, but that just meant it was comfortable. He leaned forward and his hand hit the edge of the coffee table. He ran his fingers along the wooden top until they hit the book he had left there the night before. He would read until Sam got home, and then his brother would take him to a bar where Dean would make his money for the night. He put his feet up on the table and leaned back, he found the spot where he had left off the night before and got lost in the story.