Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.
E/O Challenge: Eyes. 100, 150, and 200 word drabbles. #1: Dean has concerns about his new look. #2: If only everyone would just see it Dean's way. #3: What once was lost is found again. Watch out! Spoilers for the season 9 finale.
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It's all in the Eyes
"Where words are restrained, the eyes often talk a great deal" - Samuel Richardson
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A/N: Dean has concerns about his new look. 100 words.
First Sight
"The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages" - Virginia Woolf
"Okay, I get it!" Sam shuddered. "Put them away already!"
Dean shifted uncomfortably and turned to Crowley, of all people, for comfort.
Crowley sighed. "You know the saying 'eyes are the window to the soul'? Well, that's just Dean in there, not someone possessing him, so he's got no one to hide behind."
"You mean he's always gonna have... those?"
Dean blanched. "I can't go out looking like this!"
"And that's all you're worried about?" asked Sam.
"I'll be one of those douchebags that wears shades at night," Dean moaned. "No chick's ever gonna want to come near me again!"
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A/N: If only everyone would just see it Dean's way. 150 words.
See Here
"The hardest thing to see is what is in front of your eyes" - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
"Right, now I'm in charge, I want every demon back downstairs," ordered Dean.
"You sure that's wise?" asked Crowley. "Employee motivation and all that..."
"Okay, but no new deals or possessions without my say-so."
Crowley nodded. "Aye, aye, captain."
Dean paused. Did he just?
Of course. The former King of Hell had an even bigger smirk on his face than usual.
"That's not funny," Dean snarled, still feeling self-conscious.
Crowley shrugged. "About my fee; I believe we agreed on a regular supply of the red stuff?"
"Right," Dean said. as he started to roll up his sleeve.
Crowley pulled a pained expression. "Not you! With magic it's all about the symbolism. It's got to be pure."
Dean scowled, until struck by a sudden brainwave. "Sam'll sort you out."
His brother squawked in protest.
"Hey, there's no point making puppy dog eyes at me anymore, Sammy. I'm a demon now, remember?"
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A/N: What once was lost is found again. 200 words.
A Sight for Sore Eyes
"Love is blind; friendship closes its eyes" - Friedrich Nietzsche
Dean and Castiel sat for a long while, studiously avoiding each other's gaze.
"I'm sorry..." they both said at the same time.
"Why? You've got nothing to be sorry about!" said Dean incredulously. "It's me that's managed to damn myself; twice. That's surely gotta be some kinda record."
Castiel grimaced. "It was my job to protect you. Something I've repeatedly proved incapable of doing. But know this, I pulled you from Hell once, I will do it again." he said, forcing himself to meet the black eyes that still sent a cold shudder down to the bottom of his grace.
"I have faith in you Cas. Whatever happens, I just want you to know that," Dean croaked, a little overcome.
Beyond words, Castiel laid a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. There was a spitting, sizzling sound and Dean yelped as his flesh burned under the angel's touch.
Castiel look aghast. "I'm so sorry."
"Smells like barbecue," Dean snorted, pulling back his T-shirt to inspect the damage. He hummed in pleasant surprise. "It's been a while since that faded. It's feels kinda good to have it back," he said softly as he admired the impression of Castiel's handprint in his skin.
(;,;)