A/N: I can't say how thrilled and gobsmacked I am that ths story has been getting so much attention lately. Thank you to cuddygirl18 and Bellbird for their reviews. And for all of you who put my story on alert and or faverioted it. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, I'm trying to move the story along as quickly as possible! Fell free to review, It's appreciated. Anyway, Enjoy.

Sight

People say seeing is believing. But for some, that's not entirely true. When you lose your sight, those memories of what you have seen fade so much, you probably wouldn't even recognize yourself any more. You would be able to smell the rain before it drops but you can't watch it fall. You could feel the sun on your face but never see it rise or set. We all treasure our sight but we also deprive it. Once we lose it, you will never be able to get it back. All those beautiful colours you once knew will be gone. Then you have to face the blackness alone, with nothing to help you at all...

Dean lay stiffly on the bed, shedding silent tears. The world around him now was so much darker, literally more so than anything he had encountered before, and he was scared; scared of the nightmare that grew in front of his eyes, the endless void of eternity spiralling down and down, plunging into darkness. Dean clutched the hospital blanket closer to his body, the irritating fabric rubbing against his skin. Fear filled his sightless eyes. He was more afraid than he had ever been.

A clatter of wheels brought Dean back to reality as one of the nurses brought in a bed into the room.

"Okay," the male nurse said, his voice sounding serious. "You've had a long surgery, now you need a long rest. I'll have the doctor come check on you in a few hours, OK?"

"Yes, I understand..." replied a child's voice in a deep sigh.

The nurse left the room quietly, closing the door glass door behind him gently.

After a few minutes the boy spoke up.

"Don't I know you?"

Dean wiped away a tear from his eyes.

"I wouldn't know kid. Just leave me alone please," he snapped.

"Wait a minute. You're that FBI guy from yesterday!" Joshua said in sudden excitement. It took Dean a few minutes to remember.

"Joshua?"

"Yep! That's me. The one and only…" His voice drifted off as he examined Dean.

"Did you have an operation?"

"Last night, they fixed my arm," Joshua answered. "I should be able to go in a few days." He hesitated for a second. "What about you? How come you're in here?"

"Where exactly is here?" Dean remarked.

"Intensive care ward," Joshua replied with confusion. "Again, how come you're in here?"

"Long story," said Dean.

"Well, we've got all night." Joshua's voice was starting to become slightly shaky as he began to realise something was very wrong.

"Look, kid, no offence, but I planned on getting some sleep, if that's okay," Dean snapped back unintentionally.

Joshua froze, and when he spoke his voice reflected his fear. It was so tangible that Dean could almost taste it.

"Please stay awake."

"No, really," Dean objected, though he sounded fractionally less certain. "I need sleep."

"It's better if you stay awake." Dean heard Joshua jump off his bed, his feat slapping against the floor as he walked over to Dean's bed and whispered in his ear. "That's when they come out," he said as he leaned in closer.

"Who?"

"The monsters."

He needed to call someone. This was too much for him to handle anymore. With his free hand, Dean patted around the bed and side-desk in hope that he could find his mobile.

"Hey, do you see a phone anywhere?" Dean asked Joshua, while still searching for the phone with his free hand.

"No, sorry. Hey, are you okay?"

Joshua finally looked closer at Dean, and for the first time registered his sightless eyes. He held up three fingers on his left hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Dean took a wild guess.

"One."

"You're blind!" Joshua burst out in a mixture of shock and confusion.

"And we have a winner! Thank you for pointing that out. I think I figured that out already, you little prick!" Suddenly, Dean realised how loud he was yelling, and grimaced apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't mean it to come out like that..."

"That's okay....What happened? You were fine yesterday," he pulled up a plastic chair from around the corner and sat next to the bed.

"I got shot, and I cracked my head on a table," he paused. "Tell me honestly, how bad does it look?"

Joshua looked up at the blood-soaked bandage that was wrapped carelessly around Dean's head. He could see a depression at the top of his head where it had struck the table.

"It looks kind of nasty," Joshua admitted reluctantly. "There's pus and everything coming out of it."

He paused, almost as an afterthought, and turned surreptitiously to make sure no one was coming to check on him. No one was. Dean thought for a moment, trying to decide what to do.

"I need you too to me a favour. Is there a piece of paper and pen anywhere in here?"

Dean felt around in the hope that there was something on the bedside desk that he could have used, but with no luck.

"There's some over the other side of the room," Joshua replied, quickly getting out of the chair and striding across the room. He pulled his medical chart and the attached pen out of the pocket hanging at the end of his bed. Rushing back, he passed the clipboard with the pen and paper to Dean.

Dean began writing a phone number on the paper. His writing slanted and overlapped but Joshua was just able to make it out what it read.

"I need you to call that number for me. Just say it's a message from Dean Winchester and he needs their help. Can you do that?"

Dean looked directly at Joshua, and his sightless eyes pierced straight through him. Joshua nodded eagerly, and then spoke up quickly as he remembered that Dean couldn't see his response.

"Yeah, sure. I'll sneak out and use the phone in the hall."

"Thanks," Dean said with a forced smile which rapidly slipped back into remorseful sadness. He gently took the piece of paper from his hand.

"No problem. I'll be back in a minute."

- - - - -

Joshua carefully opened the glass door only a crack, just enough to get his head around the corner to make sure no one was coming. The nurse was nowhere in sight. It was at least 8pm now; the corridors were dark and illuminated only by the dim florescent globes on the ceiling.

He glanced back at Dean; he was staring at the direction of the door waiting for him to move out into the corridor. Why was he helping him? He had only met him once when they came to ask him about the nurse who had died. This was weird, too weird. What was going on?

Slowly and steadily, Joshua closed the door behind him and walked down the hall towards the phone.

The ward was almost completely silent. A few of the older patients were snoring. One guy was hooked up to some sort of kidney dialysis machine. The machine was running at full power, the mechanics vibrated throughout the air. On the right there was an old lady, and her skin was red and swollen. Her entire face was hardly visible under her puffy skin. It was impossible to see her eyes, as a great chunk of skin had folded over the top of them.

One of the nurses on duty came out of the room ahead, and Joshua quickly ducked into one the room on his left. The nurse's footsteps echoed loudly down the hallway and Joshua quickly hid underneath one of the beds in momentary panic. Once the nurse had gone past did Joshua finally pick himself up off the floor; only then did he realise that the bed he had hidden under was occupied.

It was just a small boy; a poor kid who couldn't have been any more than eight years old. There was an IV hooked up to his arm, saline travelling along the tube to disappear under the boy's skin. Joshua turned back towards the door.

"Who are you?"

The unexpected voice startled Joshua, and it took an effort not to yelp. The boy had woken up; his voice was raspy followed by a few violent coughs. Joshua quickly strode over to the kids bed.

"Hush," Joshua whispered. "My name's Joshua. What's your name?"

A couple more violent coughs followed.

"Kevin. What were you doing under my bed?" he asked innocently.

"Hiding," Joshua answered simply. "I, uh… I'm playing a game with the nurses."

Joshua peered out into the hallway. The nurse was busy checking up on the old man further down the corridor.

"Cool! Can I hide too?" Kevin was getting exited now, and as his excitement escalated, so too did the volume of his voice, and that was definitely not a good thing for Joshua. The nurse exited the room she had been in and began walking back up the hall.

"Crap!" Joshua growled, and turned quickly back to the kid. "Can you do me a BIG favour?"

"Okay," Kevin replied excitedly.

"I want you to start screaming and yelling, like you're having a nightmare, so the nurse will come in here. That way I can get to the phone. That, um… That's my safe zone, okay? If I can get to the phone, I win the game." He quickly poked his head back out the door. She was four rooms away, and slowly moving closer. "Can you do that for me?"

"Yeah!" Kevin enthused. He seemed genuinely excited, but his enthusiasm was quickly replaced by a deep throaty cough.

Joshua ducked behind the aqua curtain that was next to the door making sure that no part of him was visible.

"Now," he whispered to Kevin.

At that moment, Kevin began kicking and screaming like a baby. He was pretty good at it too. He threw his pillow to the floor and kicked the blanket off him. In seconds the nurse came running in right past the aqua curtain. Joshua waited a moment before quickly pushing the curtain aside and slipping out the door, and down the hall to the phone.

It looked further away than he had thought, but he finally managed to reach the phone. Joshua picked up the phone receiver and started dialling the number on the piece of paper. He got to the last number and stopped. It was too hard to make out. Was that a seven, or a one? No, he decided finally, it was definitely a one. Joshua pressed one, and the phone began to ring. After a few seconds a male voice answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Umm, hi," Joshua replied, he didn't know what else to say.

"Okay, who is this? How did you get this number?" the voice asked in a fierce dangerous tone that told Kevin that this was a guy not to be messed with.

"Dean Winchester gave me your number. He needs your help."

"What happened?" the man sighed, as if he had expected no less.

"I don't exactly know. But he can't see, he's gone blind."

The statement was followed by a few seconds' silence.

"What's your name kid?"

"Joshua. Who are you?"

"My name's Bobby. You don't need to know anything else. You just go back, and tell that idjit that I'm on my way."

With that, the phone hung up.