Dean rolled his eyes and glanced up from his careful unwrapping of Sam's trashed bandage. "The mall, Dad? Really?"

John chuckled. "Yes, Dean. The mall. Think you'll survive it?"

Dean shook his head, exaggerating his voice. "Well, I don't know. It's THE MALL. Why the hell we goin' there anyway?"

"Because everyone who opened a curse box was a teenager, Dean." Sam said, like it explained everything. He caught his breath as Dean came to the end of the gauze and tugged as the last little bit pulled free of Sam's foot.

Dean froze, grimacing. "Sorry, Sammy." He looked up. "You good?"

Sam nodded, holding his breath. His foot was on fire.

"Yeah, you look good, gimpy." Dean noted, shaking his head again and returning to his work. He gently positioned Sam's toasted foot over the basin of tepid water and carefully began trickling the water down over it.

Sam lay his head back on the top of the headboard and gritted his teeth.

John tried for a distraction. "Jory said every kid who opened a curse box was dead within a week. Whatever this is, it's fast-moving."

Dean whistled. "Still, why the mall?"

"Well, it's a town of less than 1,000 people, Dean." John explained. "If you were a kid in a nowhere town like this, where would you go for fun?"

Sam snorted, his eyes closed, "nearest backseat."

Dean stopped his ministrations long enough to shoot Sam the stink eye. He couldn't believe the kid actually said that in front of Dad.

John shook his head, stifling the chuckle that tried to escape. "Okay, if you weren't Dean Winchester, and you were a kid in a nowhere town like this one, where?"

Sam risked a peek out of one eye to find Dean still frozen in place, glaring at him. He giggled. "The mall?"

"The mall." John repeated, rising and moving to stand over his boys. "It's not infected, is it?"

Dean shook his head, resuming the gentle bathing of his brother's foot. "No, it looks real good, actually, despite Sam tryin' his damndest to get the thing to fall off." He looked up at his father. "You get the antibiotic ointment?"

John nodded, retrieving a pharmacy bag from the kitchen and shaking it out over Sam's bed. A tube of prescription ointment rolled out, along with three rolls of fresh gauze, white medical tape, a bottle of migraine medicine, a box of surgical gloves and a bag of brilliantly colored gummy worms.

Dean stared. "You bought gummy worms at a pharmacy, Dad? What, you had an extra $7 you didn't have a use for?"

John snorted. "Yeah, well, desperate times and all that." He smiled as Sam's eyes widened and the kid snagged the bag of worms immediately. "I seem to recall someone around here liking the ridiculous things."

Sam smiled up at his father in delight. "Me." He said, tearing the bag open with his teeth. "It's me."

"Green ones are mine." Dean threatened, moving to the sink to wash and disinfect his hands. He dried off, slipped on the surgical gloves and began gently applying the ointment to the worst of Sam's burns. He glanced up once to see what effect his careful strokes were having on his brother, but the kid was elbow deep inside the bag, counting." Dean looked up at Dad gratefully, and the older man nodded, smiling.

"Is this green?" Sam sat dangling a bright purple worm.

"Yeah." Dean told him, smirking as the kid popped it into his mouth and immediately made a face.

"Grape. Yuck."

"That's what you get." Dean replied as he took the sterile roll of gauze from Dad and commenced wrapping.

And when the sticky red gummy worm came flying out of nowhere and adhered itself to Dean's cheek like some weird, fruity parasite, he rolled his eyes and kept on going, despite the gales of laughter erupting from his father and brother.

###

"Here." John said, slipping his glasses case into Sam's hand. "If there's an optical store at that mall, see if you can get these fixed for me."

Sam frowned, recognizing his father's reading glasses and realizing he hadn't seen them in weeks. "What happened to them?"

"Wendigo." John said shortly.

Sam nodded and slipped the glasses into his jacket pocket. He picked up his crutch and followed Dean to the car.

"Let me know if you get anything." John said, clapping Dean on the shoulder.

Dean chuckled, "Could be a while before you hear from us. Might get Sammy a makeover while we're there."

"Ha. Ha. Ha." Sam said sarcastically, pausing between each syllable.

Dean winked at him as he positioned himself behind the wheel. "Come on, Sammy. I heard they just came out with this new eyeliner, and it's too-DIE for. You know you wanna try it."

"You're a jerk, Dean." Sam commented as he maneuvered himself into the front passenger seat. "A real jerk. You know that?"

Dean tossed back his head and laughed. "Ah … you're too easy. Sam. Too easy."

And two hours later, as Sam sat on the bench outside the pretzel stand and watched Dean flirt up yet another cashier to try and get intel, he noticed the optical store. Casting a sideways glance to see Dean still occupied, Sam struggled to his feet and made his way over to the small hole-in-the-wall retailer. He stepped inside and smiled at the young girl behind the register, tugging his father's glasses case out of his pocket as he approached.

"Hi!" The girl chirped. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, uh … these are my dad's and they got broken while he was hunting. Do you know if they can be fixed?" He placed the glasses on the countertop and waited while she examined them.

"Oh, sure! They just need a new nose piece and a couple of screws." She reached beneath the counter. "Just take me a few minutes. You can browse if you want."

Sam smiled again, relieved. "Do you know how much it will cost?" He asked, thinking about the lonely sixteen dollars in his wallet.

The girl flirted up at him. "No charge for you." And with that statement, a tense-looking older man emerged from the back room and eyed Sam up and down, frowning at what he saw.

"Anything I can help you with?" He asked.

Sam frowned, "No thanks. I'm being helped."

The man nodded, his eyes flicking down to the beat-up case and the glasses that were probably older than John.

"I see." He said, accusingly.

But Sam refused to be cowled, choosing instead to stare the man down evenly.

After a moment, the man snorted and turned away, addressing the girl. "Let me know if a real customer comes in?"

The girl nodded, rolling her eyes at Sam and grinning. "Sure will, Lou." She shrugged as he returned to his desk behind the door, and Sam realized then that the glass-fronted mirror behind the register was two-way glass.

"He's an ass. Don't mind Lou." The girl whispered conspiratorially. "Takes a while to get used to him." Then she grinned and shook her head. "No, I'm lying. There's no getting used to Lou. I'm Joanie, by the way."

Sam smiled, "Sam. Nice to meet you."

He turned away then to look over the selection of frames and lenses that hung on the wall. One pair of glasses was tinted purple and seemed to hold a place of honor there among its peers. It rested on a shiny pedestal lined with velvet, with a sign below it that said, "Try Me." Sam read the small sticker that stuck to the bottom corner of the left lens.

"What are Introspecs?" Sam asked, curious. He cocked his head to the side in concentration.

The girl looked up, smiling. "Oh, those are specially designed for people who are color blind. It corrects for missing cone cells in the eyes so they can see all the colors of the spectrum." she chirped, returning to her work like she hadn't just yanked the axis out of Sam's entire planet.

Sam felt the wall in front of him narrow down to just a tunnel as his heart rate picked up, and his stomach did a little flip-flop thing that felt an awful lot like nausea. He reached a quaking hand out, lifted the Introspecs from the pedestal, and placed them carefully on his face.

Sam stood frozen, too afraid to move. Around him, the world shimmered with a strange barrage of foreign hues and tints. He felt dizzy, enclosed. His breathing picked up, and he let out a gasp that must have been audible.

"Are you okay?" He heard Joanie ask, but he couldn't reply. All he could do was stand in place and rotate in a circle, his arms stretched straight out in front of him.

"Sam? Are you … Wait!" Sam heard delight in the girl's voice. "Are you color blind? Is this your first time seeing colors?" She clapped her hands together in glee. "So they really work?"

Sam turned toward her, seeing all the different colors that made up her image. Her hair was one color, her smock another. On her left breast pocket, she wore a name badge that was a third color. In her hair, a headband that sent a riot of messages his way. Joanie was almost more than Sam could bear to take in, but in that moment, he loved her.

"They work." He whispered, and his voice was broken, almost sobbing, and he saw his own tears reflected in Joanie's eyes. She stood behind the counter, hands clapped together at her breast, tears of happiness for Sam making her eyeliner run.

"Oh!" She sniffed. "Don't cry! I'm gonna cry too if you cry!" But she was smiling like a beacon when she said it.

"Dean." Sam murmured, taking a step toward the door. "I wanna … my brother … I gotta. I wanna show Dean." He said, reaching a hand out and running it along the length of the silicone trim that lined the door. The trim was a vibrant, dark color that Sam somehow associated with blood, but he had no idea what to call it.

"Just a minute there, young man!" Sam heard an indignant voice behind him shout. "Where do you think you're going?"

"No, it's okay, Lou! He's color blind!" Sam heard Joanie explain. "He just wants to show his brother. He's not stealing anything."

"I think not!" Lou replied, moving to step in front of Sam and effectively blocking his exit. "You're not leaving the store with those, now hand them over." The blustering man held out his hand for Sam's whole world, and Sam stepped back, his hand moving to clutch at the frames.

"No! I'm not … Don't!" Sam said desperately as the man made a move to reach out toward him. "I just wanna see! Please …I need to get my brother! He'll buy these for me if you'll just let me …"

But the man ignored Sam's pleas, he stood, arms crossed in a confrontational way in front of the boy, determined to stop Sam from leaving the store. "Give. Them. Back." Lou snarled, unfeeling.

But Joanie had seen and heard enough. She shot past Lou out the door and into the mall's main corridor. Standing in the middle of the aisle, she tossed back her head and closed her eyes.

"Dean!" She shouted for all she was worth. "Dean! Sam needs you!"

And she hadn't gotten her eyes opened when the man was there in front of her, death in his expression. He grasped her by both shoulders.

"Where's Sam? Where's my brother?"

"Here!" She said desperately, rushing toward the optical store. "In here! Lou … he's being … he's being a dick!"

But Dean had pushed past her and was inside the store. He took in a cowering Sam in the corner and the beefy, middle-aged man standing over him, and what the hell? Was Sam … was he crying?

Dean roared.

This was so unacceptable. He planted himself in front of Sam and took up the boxer's stance that John had shown him years ago. It had stood him in good stead on more than one occasion, and it seemed like just what the doctor ordered this time too. "I don't know what the hell you think you're doing to my brother, asshole, but it was a mistake."

"Your BROTHER is a fucking NO good, lying, sneaking SHOPlifter!" The man growled, taking a single step back from the formidable force that was Dean Winchester.

"Wrong." Dean said calmly, and clocked him across the jaw. He watched as the man hit the floor in front of him, then he turned to Sam and held out both hands like he would to a frightened animal. Whatever this asshole had said or done, Sam was seriously spooked.

"It's okay, Sammy. It's just me, kid. I'm here. Tell me what's going on."

But Sam just stood there staring at him from behind those ridiculous purple glasses, breathing heavy and not speaking.

"Sam, come on, man. What's goin' on? What's with the ugly shades, hunh?"

Sam smiled then, and even more disconcerting, he reached out and ran a shaking hand through Dean's hair. "Dean." He said, like he'd never seen his brother before.

Dean snorted, confused. "Yeah man. It's me. What the hell's wrong with you, Sammy?"

But in the next moment, Sam was all up in his face, staring. "My God, Dean. Your eyes!"

Dean squinted. "What wrong with my eyes?"

Sam breathed, but it came out a sob. "They're so .. they're so … green." Sam pulled away and clapped a hand over his mouth. He looked Dean up and down like he was trying to commit him to memory, and suddenly Dean was having a hard time speaking himself with his throat all closed up.

"Sam … can you … can you … see me?" He breathed. "I mean .. you know … in color?"

Sam nodded wordlessly, tears running down both cheeks and dripping off his chin.

"It's the Introspecs." Joanie gushed. They correct color blindness." She moved next to Sam and stood running a comforting hand up and down his arm. "He's never seen any color at all, has he?"

"Gray." Sam breathed. "Just gr-gray." He took a shuddering breath, and then, in a rush, his words spewed out like vomit. "These, Dean! I want these!"

And Dean instantly knew what Sam meant. He nodded, grinning from ear to ear. He turned to Joanie. "I'll take the glasses. How much are they?"

But it was a chagrined voice behind him that answered. "That'll be thirty five forty nine." Lou said, adjusting his attitude now that a sale was imminent.

And Dean grabbed Sam by the front of his jacket and grinned like a crazy man. "See there, Sammy? Forty bucks!" He fished out his wallet and turned toward the counter.

But Lou was back to his scathing assessment of the Winchester brothers. He sighed like he was the only adult in the room and repeated the number slowly, as though to a child. "That's three THOUSAND, five hundred and forty-nine dollars." Then he smiled like a little weasel. "Will that be cash or charge?"

And the sound that Sam made at that revelation would haunt Dean for the rest of his days. The older boy gaped at the asshole behind the counter. "Three thousand bucks for the ugliest-ass glasses ever made?"

And the man stared coolly back. "Get out of my store."

But Dean wasn't done yet. "Look, I'm sorry about the punch, okay? I thought you were hurting my brother. I need those glasses."

But Lou just stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. "Your kind make me sick." He gloated. "Get a job. Get HIM a job. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's a shoplifter." He picked up the store phone. "Now I'm calling security to arrest your lying, stealing little bastard of a brother, and we'll let them sort it out." He tossed a disgusted look in Sam's direction. "I hope they toss the little bitch in lock up and throw away the key."

And Dean was tempted then. He was tempted to just knock the guy out, grab Sammy and run, but before he could do it, Sam was standing in front of him.

"You don't need to call anyone." He told Lou softly. "I'll … you can have them back. Just let me … he stood staring at Dean. "Just … please … give me a minute … I need to …"

But Lou reached out then and yanked the glasses off Sam's face. The move was unexpected and harsh, and Sam was unprepared. He fumbled for the glasses, crying out. "Wait! Wait, please! I just wanna see my br-brother … please!"

But Lou slipped the specs down behind the counter and slid the door closed behind them. "Get out before I have you taken out in cuffs." He threatened again.

But Sam couldn't make his feet move.

"Please?" He outright begged, his voice broken and hopeless.

And that's when Dean tugged the kid forward and out the door, steering him toward the parking lot before some mall cop showed up and Dean had to kill him. He was going to be killing enough people in his dreams tonight all ready.

And Sam. Sam was just a big, fat bag of heartbreak. Dean bundled him into the Impala and shot out for the home-du-jour, with the kid sobbing like his world was ending the whole way.

"I'm s-sorry." Sam cried brokenly. "I c-can't help it, Dean! I c-can't muh-make it st-stop!"

And Dean yanked the kid close and nestled him into his shoulder, matching him tear for tear and running a hand up and down his arm to offer some small bit of comfort.

It wasn't all the colors of the rainbow, but it was all Dean had.