As promised kiddies. Hope you enjoy!

"What the hell, Bobby?" Sam said angrily. "Getting his eyesight back isn't gonna matter much if he's dead."

Bobby glared at him. "You think I woulda bothered coming here if I was just gonna let him die? Now, before you get your panties all twisted, you mind if I finish?"

Sam pursed his lips. Gave a nod.

"We're not actually gonna kill him," Bobby explained. "We just have to... bring him closer to the edge. Draw out the reaper that's latched to him so we can use the spell to cut the link."

"And uh, how exactly we gonna do that?" Dean asked.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Poison."

"What?" Sam objected. "No way," he said, stepping between Bobby and his brother. "We are not poisoning Dean."

"Look, Sam I never said it was gonna be pretty." He glanced at Dean. "Or pleasant. But there's an antidote for it. We give Dean the poison, he gets where the reaper wants him ahead a schedule. Bastard comes to finish the job…we nail it. Fix him up."

"Are you kidding me?" Sam objected. "He's already weak, Bobby. You give him that stuff, you will kill him."

"Look, I'll be honest with you both….it's a risk. But it's the only thing we got."

"No. It's not the only thing," Sam argued. "Look, you just need someone close to death, right? Give it to me. I'll take the poison. I'll draw the reaper and then you can give me the antidote. My body's stronger. I have a better chance."

"No fuckin' way," Dean replied, pushing himself up on one elbow.

"Sam, even if I'd let ya, you can't just lure a reaper, you need the reaper. The one that's latched itself to Dean. You draw the wrong one, Dean'd still be dying and we'd all have a whole new set a problems on our hands. Gotta be him."

Staring first at Bobby, then at Dean, Sam shook his head. "This is crazy."

"Just what part of 'a reaper's tryin' to kill your brother' do you think is sane?" Bobby countered.

"Sammy, look at me, man," Dean said gently. "I'm not exactly sittin' pretty right now. If this thing goes wrong…." He raised one shoulder in a shrug. "I'm dead either way, Sam. Least this gives me a chance."

At his brother's words, Sam took a long look at Dean. Took in the pale, drawn features, his blank stare.

God, he wanted his brother back. Wanted him back the way he'd been before the Reaper. Before the Rawhead. Wanted him back the way he'd always been.

He sighed. Turned to Bobby.

"What do we have to do?"

Dean shifted on the couch. Stared at the ceiling.

What he assumed was the ceiling, anyway.

This whole blind thing was getting old fast.

Though their voices were muffled, he caught the sounds of Bobby and Sam talking outside.

It was true, what they said, about his other senses compensating. His hearing, always particularly sharp after years of hunting, seemed even more finely tuned since he his world went black

Of course, not being able to look at anything had other… side effects. The loss of his sight gave him time to focus on the internal sensations that had been growing stronger with each passing hour. Not quite painful, but definitely uncomfortable, he'd felt a shadow of the strange tremors ever since the encounter with the reaper. Over the days, they had been intensifying and lately…

He clenched his hands against the slight tingling in his hands. Gritted his teeth against the stronger sensations traveling through his legs.

Dammit, he was sick of this. Sick of being some reaper's plaything.

And to top it off, he had to pee.

No way in hell was he gonna call Sam or Bobby for an escort. Like some invalid. Besides, he'd made the journey from Sam's couch to the bathroom so many times the past week he could do it in his sleep.

Doing it blind shouldn't be a problem.

Carefully, Dean pushed himself up on his elbows. Made to swing his legs over the side of the couch.

Hesitated when they didn't move.

Shit.

Of all the time for his legs to fall asleep. Course, he'd been lying on the damn couch for hours.

Trying to get some circulation back, he rubbed his thigh.

And felt nothing.

"The hell?"He asked aloud.

Pushing himself up a little higher, Dean pinched his thigh. Hard.

Nothing.

No twinge, no sensation.

Nothing.

Feeling his heart rate quicken, Dean focused on calming his breathing. He didn't think hyperventilating would really help his situation right now.

Losing his sight had scared him shitless, but at least he could attempt to deal with it. He could attempt to put on a brave face. But this?

Paralyzed?

No. He couldn't stay like this. Didn't know how long he could handle being this helpless before he lost it.The days after the Rawhead had been unpleasant, sure, but at least then when he'd been dying of a busted heart, he'd been himself.

Weak. Sick. But himself.

This? Wasting away a little at a time?

Suddenly, Bobby's whole poison plan didn't sound too bad.

Dean just wanted this whole thing to be over.

One way or another.

"You got the oil?" Bobby asked, as he bent over the trunk of his car.

"Yeah," Sam replied, placing the small container into his bag. "What else?"

Bobby held up a tiny vial containing a purplish-red liquid. "Plan's not gonna work too well without this."

Poison.

He stowed the vial in his satchel. "Alright...think that's everything."

"Actually," Sam said slowly, reaching into the trunk. "One more thing."

He picked out a small canteen, silver with a delicately etched cross on the front. Held it up to Bobby.

"Drink it."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "'Scuze me?"

"It's been bothering me since I called you," Sam said cautiously. "You being in California right when we needed you. You being so close..."

"Lucky I could help you boys out."

Sam took a step toward the elder man. "We don't get lucky." He thrust the container at Bobby's chest. "Drink it."

Bobby huffed. "You think I'm possessed?"

"Can't hurt to be sure, right? Hell, I may have been out of the game for awhile, Bobby, but I'm not stupid. You're about to poison my brother. Not really in the mood for gambling."

Bobby's mouth quirked in a smile. "Well, well. You can take the boy out of the huntin'…"

With a snort, he grabbed the canteen, took a long swallow.

Sam tensed. Watched for any reaction.

After a moment, Bobby licked his lips. Shoved the container back at Sam. "Satisfied? Or you wanna impale me with a wooden stake while you're at it?"

"Uh, yeah. I mean, no," Sam said awkwardly. " I mean...think we're good. Sorry, man."

"S'alright," Bobby replied. "Look, Sam. I know you're worried about Dean, but I'm not possessed. And I wasn't lyin' to you either." He capped the canteen. "Not exactly."

"San Francisco...there was no job, was there?"

"Oh, there was a job," Bobby replied. "I'm lookin' at it."

"What..." Sam said, brow furrowing. "What, you mean me?"

Bobby nodded. "When Dean didn't check in...thought somethin' might have happened to him. Wanted to make sure nothin' happened to you."

"Well, I mean, thanks for the concern and all, but..."

"Like I said. I was doin' a favor." Bobby closed the trunk. Kept his eyes away from Sam's. "For John."

"Dad?" Sam froze. "Jesus. Bobby, you know where he is?"

The elder man shook his head. "One thing about your Daddy…when he wants to disappear, he does it damn well." He looked down at the ground. "Nah, he gave me a number, a voicemail. I would call it now and again. Sometimes get a text. Coordinates. I'd forward some on to Dean, send some jobs his way. Easy stuff, things to keep him busy…"

Sam's eyes widened. "The Rawhead. You sent him there."

Bobby nodded slowly. "Shoulda known it was a two person job. But. I wanted to keep him busy. Keep him from takin' off after your Dad. He said he could handle it so… Hell, if I woulda known…"

""Bobby, what happened to Dean...it's not your fault. Besides, it was Dad that took off on him. Left him with no backup. Abandoned him."

"You Dad left for a reason, Sam. He's on to somethin'. Didn't want you boys to get hurt."

"Well, that's our Dad," Sam said sarcastically. "John Winchester. Father of the Year."

Bobby's face softened. "Hey, John might be in the runnin' for World's Biggest Jackass... But he loves you boys."

Sam rubbed his neck. Changed the subject. "Any idea what he was after?"

"Somethin' big...somethin' dangerous."

"The thing that killed Mom," Sam said slowly.

"A demon," Bobby replied. "I talked to him. Right before he disappeared. Said he'd gotten a lead on it. More importantly, a lead on a way to kill it."

Sam leaned back heavily against the truck. "Dean know about all this?"

"No."

"I don't think we should tell him," Sam said quietly. "Not now, anyway."

Bobby put a hand on his shoulder. "How 'bout we focus on one problem at a time, huh?"

Sam gave a half smile.

"Now if you're about done...," Bobby said, hoisting his bag onto his shoulder. "Let's go save that brother o' yours."

-tbc

As always, thanks for all the reviews guys!

(And by the way, some of you are gettin' good at callin my plot twists. Must be losin' my touch ;)