Eyesight. The hundreds of little pixels showing colors and shapes, identifying objects and processing visual situations. But without eyesight, it's black. The pixels are there, but there is no color to show, nothing to see. Dark and deep and never-ending blackness.

It had started as an ordinary hunt. But it always did, didn't it?

Tracking a warlock, and they had located him inside a building. Sam and Dean would go in on opposite sides. They were set up and were ready for action. And they sprung.

Sam opened the door, and stepped inside as Dean did the same on the other side of the building.

It was fairly dark and dusty, the ground made of concrete and worn down by shoes carrying dust and dirt. The walls were breaking down, and it was amazing the building hadn't collapsed yet.

Sam hadn't gotten 10 feet into the building before a hooded figure erupted from the shadows, clamped one hand over Sam's eyes.

Dean got in and as if on cue, he heard Sam's scream. His blood ran cold, adrenaline and panic flushing through his body like a tsunami. He ran toward the scream.

"Sam?!"

Sam was against the wall, and the warlock had his hand over his eyes, bright green light seeping through his fingers. Sam's face was contorted in pain.

Dean fired off about three bullets before the warlock turned around and gave him a glare before looking down at it's chest, where crimson stains were seeping through it's robe.

It raised his head and gave Dean a smile before crumpling to the ground. Sam let out a groan as the warlock released his face and he slid down the wall to fall to the floor.

Dean ran to Sam's side.

"Sammy? Come on, Sam, answer me. Dammit, Sam!"

Sam's eyes fluttered slightly, before opening. Dean's breath caught in his throat.

Sam's eyes seemed to be covered with some sort of grayness. His minty green eyes could only be seen if you strained hard enough to see them.

"D'n?"

"Yeah. You okay?"

Sam's brows furrowed in confusion and Dean didn't miss the flicker of panic.

"Sam?"

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I-I can't see."

"Hey. How ya doin', kiddo?"

"M'fine, Dean."

Dean snorted. "Sure you are."

Sam glowered in his seat. "Dean, it's that big of a deal," he started softly.

Dean scowled and exhaled loudly, as if this was all some annoying routine that always happened. Which it kind of was.

"Not a big deal, Sammy? What, are you nuts? You're blind!"

"I know," Sam murmured.

Dean softened at Sam's tone, but that still didn't calm him down completely, but he figured he needed to try to stay calm.

"We're going to figure this out, okay? Just like we always do."

Sam nodded.

Dean got out of the car, jaw clenching at the way Sam flinched and his brow furrowed in confusion, traces of fear etched on his face.

He hated seeing Sam so helpless.

Sam reached out tentively to touch the car door. He patted it down gently until he found the handle.

Dean opened the door and Sam frowned slightly.

"Need a hand?"

Sam sighed and got up, feeling his way out of the car on his own.

"Dean, if this is how it's going to be, I need to figure out how to do this on my own."

Dean scowled again. "You're not staying blind, Sammy."

Sam pursed his lips. "You don't know that."

Dean rolled his eyes in irritation. "Yeah? Well I know I'm going to try to fix this."

"What...What if you can't?"

Dean looked at Sam disbelievingly.

"Sam, what is with you?"

Sam shrugged, and Dean could basically see the mental walls being pulled up again.

Dean just let Sam, for the most part, go inside the motel room on his own.

Sam's knee hit the corner of a chair with a thud and he winced slightly.

Dean didn't say a word, just moved it over.

Sam found a bed and sat down.

Dean looked back at Sam, wishing he could make that look of loneliness and sadness just disappear off his face.

He dialed up someone he hoped could help.

"Bobby? We got a problem."