Black eyes. Sam's worst nightmare, but Dean's best sweet dreams. He could do whatever he wanted to, whenever he wanted to. Man, this was perfect! He tried to please the people that was around him for too long. Saving people? Hunting things? The family business? Uh-huh. Not for him. Now, with the first blade and this huge power he could feel inside of him, this time, he was doing all of this for him, and him alone. It wasn't selfish, he was just doing what he knew. Being the fucking menace he was, grinning as he approached his next prey, aka Sam Winchester, his younger brother. As farfetched as it sounds, his black eyes did gleam in the darkness of the bunker. The blade was hungry for his blood. The only person he cherished more than anything. The only person he could say he loved. It was time.