I do not own any of the characters or affiliates and such they all belong to the people who own Supernatural. Also, I am Australian and relying solely on Google for any information about American towns and places and such, so if names or anything don't work or are wrong, sorry!

5.

Dean knew he was dreaming again, but he couldn't scream anymore, it felt like his throat had been torn with razors from all the screaming and crying from earlier. He was rolled into a foetal position on the cold floor, sobbing quietly. The pain was unbearable, but he couldn't seem to stop himself, his eyes just kept oozing blood in place of the tears, the only thing that was warm in this place.

Reaching up a shaking hand he probed the bloody holes one more time, checking to make sure it was real, that his eyes were gone, leaving behind nothing but bloody slits. More blood leaked around his fingers this time, they came away sticky and wet, the blood running down his cheeks and over his chin now. He had made them bleed more. Dean felt something stringy like wire in his hands, rubbing it between his fingers; he wondered what it could have been.

Out of nowhere, burning hot pain burst through his eyes, screaming he clawed at them, feeling material and padding come away this time, and then more sticky blood and wire. Gasping through the screams, he struggled to sit up, he felt himself up high, on something soft and warm. The cold ground was gone, and his feet weren't touching the ground. Trying to stand up in agony, he found the edge and slipped off.

Hitting the ground with a moaning thump, Dean heard the hot blood drop on the ground. Why couldn't he see still? Wasn't he awake now? Out of that horrible dream? Trying to stand, he felt another burning pain in his leg, reaching down he felt something hard around one of his legs; he couldn't tell what it was though. Pulling himself forward with his aching arms, he gasped when he felt the material of someone's jeans. Tugging on them, he tried to talk but nothing would come out.

'Wha-what?' Dean sighed with relief when he heard Sam's voice. 'Bobby turn the lights on, quickly.' Oh thank god... Dean thought, the lights were just off, that's why he couldn't see. Of course. He heard the click of the light switch, but no light came on. It must have been broken. 'Oh my God! Dean!' He felt someone get down beside him, taking his arms. 'Get a nurse, quickly!'

'Sammy?' Dean whispered. 'That you?'

'Yeah it's me man, just hold still don't move. How did you get out of bed, and oh God man... what have you done?' Sam's voice was full of strain and concern, Dean couldn't understand why.

'What's with the lights man, wont they turn on or something?' Looking around wildly, Dean stopped and fell back against Sam, resting his head on his younger brothers heaving chest. 'It's stupidly dark in here for a hospital don't you think?'

'Look Dean, try not to talk alright? Just keep calm and don't move you're going to pull out all the tubes and things. Dammit man, you cracked your cast.' He felt a hand near his leg and realised he was talking about the hard thing around his leg.

'I tried to stand up...'

'Shhh man, don't talk too much.' Sam hushed him like a baby, rocking him a little.

'What's going on man? You're treating me like a child. Quit it.' Dean grimaced against the pain in his eyes. 'Don't they give you pain killers here?' He grumbled.

'You pulled them out. Just stop talking alright; you're going to do more damage then good.' Sam's voice was so motherly; Dean wanted to crack another joke but thought against it. The pain in his eyes was making him nauseous. 'You going to be sick?' Dean nodded quickly and turned his face what he assumed was away from Sam and threw up.

'Ah thanks dude, always thought my jeans needed new colour.' Sam laughed lightly, Dean wiped his mouth and apologised groggily.

'M'head hurts man...' Dean felt himself falling backwards again; he tried to hang on to reality but slipped back to the cold and the pain. He felt his body start to convulse as he fell hard against the cold concrete.

Xxx

Groaning loudly, Dean caught a new voice that wasn't Sammy's, he heard Bobby's respond and tried to sit up but a firm hand pushed him back down again, he felt soft restraints around his wrists. What was going on? There was more padding around his face again, it itched real badly. He just wanted to tear at it, get it away from his aching face.

'We think when he fell out of the bed it caused the fracture to spiral a little more. We are going to keep a close eye on him, and move him to ICU so that he is constantly monitored. If there was any chance of repairing the damage to his eyes, it's gone now. When he tore out the stitches he did more damage, we are looking at removing them. It won't be for at least another week though; he lost a lot of blood last night.'

'So it looks like he is in for the long haul then?' Bobby asked. Dean looked towards the voice.

'He will be in here for at least two more weeks, maybe more depending on his ability to function on a day to day basis.'

'He will have us with him.' Sam spoke, tense and upset. 'We will help him as much as we can, he won't be alone.'

Won't be alone in what? Dean struggled to sit up again, but felt the same hand push him back down. After one more attempt he gave up, flopping weakly back on the pillow, yanking his arms, trying to get out of the restraints.

'Dean Will you stop? Don't make them sedate you again. Please?' Sam begged him, Dean went still and sighed.

'What wont I be alone in?' He was surprised to hear his own voice shaking so much, what was going on? 'Hello? I know there are three people in this room right now, and you all have answers.' Nobody responded. 'Answer me!' He growled, wishing he sounded more strong and dominating, but his voice sounded pathetic and weak, wispy and overused.

'Sammy please...' He cried.

'What do you remember Dean?' Sammy asked softly, avoiding the answer.

'Ah I was at the diner, and you hung up on me, then I went to go do something and you called me again, I don't remember anything after that.'

'Small memory loss is normal after a head trauma; you may or may not get your memory back. Dean, I'm Dr Marc, I have been assigned to your case since yesterday afternoon when you were brought in. I know you don't remember, but when you were on the phone yesterday with you brother, somebody attacked you. Do you remember that at all?'

Dean hoped he was shaking his head.

'When you were attacked, they used a barber's blade on you...' The doctor trailed off and Dean sensed something shifting their weight beside him.

'And?' Dean demanded.

'I'm afraid they inflicted a substantial amount of damage to your eyes. I'm not too sure if you remember the events of earlier this morning, but you clawed the stitches from your eyes. Unfortunately, you will never see again. We have rehabilitation centres in the hospital and in the town. We can help you learn how to live a normal life again, without your sight. We have also started organising for you to be given prosthetic eyes. They are ceramic bulbs made to match the eyes you had before the accident.'

Silent, Dean tried to take the news in. He was blind. His eyes were going to be removed, and replaced with fake ones that would be as good to him as a bag of marbles. He would never see again, ever. Not another pretty face, Sammy's, Bobby's... or even his own.

He was blind.

Struggling to hold back a sob, Dean laid there dejectedly. Nobody was saying anything; he jumped violently when someone laid a hand on his shoulder. The warmth was slightly comforting, he realised by the gruff grip it must have been Bobby.

'Say something Dean... please?' Sammy begged him, but he couldn't seem to form words. They wouldn't come to mind, and he couldn't think of what he could say. What was he supposed to say? Hey who needs eyes? No, Dean just sat there in silence, struggling to come to terms with the news.

'I wish I was dead.'