One For You Chapter 86: Double Vision- 5723, a supernatural fanfic

Disclaimer: If I said on, a dyslexic person would think that I'm saying no... that could be confusing in foreplay...

A/N: Howdy people! Another story so quickly, I know- gasp! But, alas, some of you may remember this story. I had it posted on here ions ago as a chapter story, though now I am clumping it all into one nice one shot. It is an older story, so again, quality isn't as good as quantity, but I hope you'll enjoy it! Oh, and one other thing, is that in this story Sam's eyes are brown. Haha, I guess I wrote it before I knew that Sam's eyes were green, and instead of going back and changing it in this story, I am leaving them as brown. Well, enjoy people, and please review!
**sorry for the formatting problem before- with it all being italics. I fixed it up!**

Title: Double Vision
Genre: Angst and I guess tragedy
Summary: After an accident, Sam is blinded, and then haunted by visions of Dean being killed.

Double Vision

"Ahh! No! No!" the scream of pain and terror could be heard all the way out into the hallway, and Dean wanted nothing more than to rush into the room.

He'd tried to already. Twice. But a rush of doctors and nurses stopped him from getting any further than the entrance to the sterile hospital room. From his stance he would get a brief glimpse into the room and, even just for a few seconds, be able to see his brother. Sammy. Crying in pain, withering on the bed as doctors tried to give him anything to make the pain go away. It broke Dean's heart to know that even though his baby brother may glance towards the door during those moments, he never saw him.

Sam couldn't see.

The case was simple. Poltergeist. Abandoned house. The whole gig wasn't even necessary, but Dean had insisted on going as something to do. If only he hadn't. He remembered when it happened too. When Sam stood cornered on the opposite side of the long hallway in the upstairs. Dean was on the other side and could only watch as the light bulbs that illuminated from the ceiling smashed one by one, working their way to Sam as it plunged their world into darkness. It was the last bulb that burst that brought the pain. The last bulb that exploded in his Sammy's face that ended their world as they knew it.

"I'm sorry Sammy," Dean ran his hand roughly through his hair, "I'm sorry, I should of done something."

It was around five minutes later when the cries stopped, and Dean wasn't sure whether he should be happy or scared. When the doctor came out of the room with a saddened look on her face, Dean thought the worse.

"Are you a relative?" it was a doctor that Dean didn't recognize, and as he caught the nametag reading Elizabeth, he knew he'd have to explain himself again.

"I'm his cousin John," Dean forced any emotions inside of him for now, "I'm all he has right now. You have to tell me what's going on with him."

"Alright John," Elizabeth nodded her head and took a seat opposite Dean, "Sam is resting right now somewhat comfortably."

"Somewhat?" Dean repeated.

"We had to give him a large amount of sedatives," Elizabeth explained, "The bulb that exploded in his face not only burnt his corneas greatly, but it caused slivers of glass to become deeply imbedded in his face. He was in a lot of pain, and though we did everything we could for him, only time will tell if he'll get his eye sight back."

"So he's blind?" Dean choked on his words.

"I'm afraid so," Elizabeth spoke as comfortingly as possible, "You can go see him now if you like."

"T-Thank you," Dean got up and walked to the doorway which he'd peered through so many times while his brother was awake.

Now, however, he found himself not wanting to enter. Instead he stared from the doorway at Sam who lay on the automatic hospital bed. His face had a large white bandage going around his eyes, and an IV stuck ominously into his right hand. The scene made Dean's heart scream, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to go back in time and be the one at the end of the hallway. To be able to take the pain away from his baby brother.

But he couldn't, and moments later, Dean found himself sitting beside Sam in a chair, and holding his hand; the only form of comfort he could manage.

"It's going to be ok Sammy," Dean whispered, "I'll never leave you, I promise."

"You sure you're ready Sam?" Dean questioned, shoving an assortment of clothing into a bag, "Because we can stay a couple of extra days if you want."

"No," Sam shook his head from his position on the bed, "Lets go."

'At least he said something,' Dean tried to think positively.

It had been just over a week, and their stay was quickly coming to an end as Dean's credit card had been getting flagged as a potentially stolen one. Smooth talking gained them an extra night, but Dean knew that any longer and they'd be pushing their luck. The lacerations and burns on Sam's face were slowly fading, though the bandages remained over his useless eyes. He barely spoke a word to anyone, and Dean had to force him to do anything.

"Alright Kid, everything is ready," Dean spoke up after a few more minutes of hasty packing, "I'll go get a chair for you."

He waited just a moment to see if Sam would respond to this, though wasn't surprised to find that he didn't. It was going to be so hard, Dean realized as he got an old worn wheelchair; everything had changed. Nothing seemed important anymore except for helping Sam get used to his new life. The doctors said that there was a 'slim to none' chance that Sam would ever regain his eyesight again; the damage was too bad. When Dean had gone to check Sam out of the hospital, the nurse had given him a small piece of paper with the name of 'West-Ridge Institute' written on it.

It was a home for the blind.

"Ok Sam," Dean said as he entered the room, "I got the chair."

Walking over, Dean made sure to touch Sam's arm before he helped his little brother to his feet. Sam clutched Dean's arm with all the strength he could muster, and took slow easy steps across the room.

"That's right," Dean encouraged, "We're almost there. You can do it."

"Dean I'm not a baby," Sam's voice came out stern and angry as he stopped in mid-step, "I know how to walk."

Dean sighed sadly, "I know. Sorry."

Reluctantly and in silence, Sam aloud Dean to lead him to the chair. With few words being spoken to the nursing staff, Dean lead Sam to the car and helped him into the front seat of the Impala. Dean made sure his belt was on before moving around to his own side and starting up the engine.

"I figure we could head back down south," Dean started to talk once they got onto the endless highway, "Maybe find some old family friends. I'm sure once we can get a hold of Dad that we could get him to come down and maybe set up an apartment for you or something."

Sam remained quiet, and if it weren't for the flexing of his hands, Dean thought he may be asleep.

"Listen Sam," Dean sighed, "I know this fricken sucks. But everything will be ok."

"Why?" Sam's voice was cold, "Because you say so? Because you, the almighty Dean says it will be ok, then it will be. Because that's worked great up until now."

Dean squeezed his hands around the steering wheel, and took a deep breath, "Don't do that to me Sammy. Don't blame this whole thing on me."

Again Sam just stayed quiet and after a few moments Dean glanced over to see the rhythmic movement of his chest. Sam was asleep…

"Hey Sam, I'll be right back," Dean looked over at Sam.

Without saying a word Sam watched as his brother opened up the car door and got out. The rain was hitting hard against the windshield and his brother only stayed in sight for a short while before the darkness consumed him.

"Dean wait," Sam attempted to call out, but Dean didn't hear, "Dean!"

Something was going to happen.

The younger Winchester stared out the window, waiting for Dean to reappear through the downpour. Why couldn't he leave! He had to save Dean! But something was stopping him from being able to leave the car.

"Dean!" Sam shouted at the top of his lungs now, "Dean come back!"

As if in answer to his frantic call a howl of wind seemed to shake the car. Something was going to happen to Dean! His heart pounding, Sam tried to force his limbs to work, and let him open the door so he could go after him.

"Dean!"

This time a loud scream and three shots answered his call and Sam's head swung towards the drivers side door. Sam wasn't sure how much time passed as silence seemed to envelope him. Not even the rain made sound as he could only stare out the rain slick window.

"Dean…" his voice came out in barely a whisper.

Just as Sam was about to try again in his futile attempt to save his brother a loud smash came to the left side of the car. Sam's eyes were wide as he saw Dean's lifeless, bloodied body pressed against the window; blood and rain dripping down the cracked surface.

"Dean!" Sam screamed out in horror, "Dean!"

...

"Sam!" Dean placed a hand on Sam's chest, "Easy man. It's me."

"I know who the hell you are," Sam spoke bitterly, his heart pounding.

He could feel sweat pouring freely down his face and his shirt felt damp. He didn't even have to ask what happened, nor did he have to see to know that his older brother was staring intently at him. He'd had another vision. They'd left the hospital four days earlier and Sam had the same, horrid vision over a dozen times since. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Dean; lifelessly flung at the window. His scream of pain. And Sam not being able to do anything about it. Dean had questioned Sam, of course, about what his dreams were about.

Sam lied and said they were from the night they were in the house with the poltergeist.

"Want me to change the bandages around your eyes?" Dean asked and Sam could feel him pulling the car to the side of the road, "They're pretty sweaty from your," Dean paused and Sam visualized the sceptical look he was getting, "Dream."

Sam remained quiet towards his brother.

"Sammy…" Dean turned off the engine and reached into the backseat to grab a small bag which held their medical supplies, "This has got to stop," slowly he began to unravel the white gauze that was around his little brothers face, "You can be pissed at me all you want. Hell, it was my fricken fault that this happened to you. But at least speak to me! Yell at me, or take a swing at me; I don't care. Just… say something man."

"What do you want me to say?" Sam asked, "I'm blind. I can't see. There's nothing I can do."

Dean knew that was true, but as every time he changed the bandages around Sam's eyes, he hoped that maybe this time Sam would be able to see something. Sam didn't move at all as Dean carefully pulled back the small wads of cotton that covered the eyes under the gauze.

Dean flinched.

It looked the same way every time, though Dean reacted the same way when he saw it. All around his brothers eyes were a raw red that was peeling in some spots. Small cuts littered the eyelids which were bright pink and swollen partially shut. The first time Dean had cleaned and changed the bandages, he'd talked to Sam, reassuring him and telling him to let him know if it hurt at all. Now, however, Dean knew better than to try and make small talk. Instead he pulled out a small squeeze bottle from the bag which held sterilized water. Dean paused a moment knowing how much this next part hurt Sam.

"Sorry," Dean whispered out the words knowing they'd give no comfort.

Using one finger Dean pulled open the eyelid of Sam's right eye. Sam let out a hiss of pain, and Dean felt him flinch. The eye was almost completely red where it once was white, and what used to show Sam's reflective brown eyes, was now glazed over. There was no doubt in Dean mind that his little brother couldn't see out of it, and trying to limit the amount of pain that Sam was in, he quickly squirted the water into the eye and let it close back on itself. He repeated the same with the other eye, and slowly wrapped back up his brothers face.

Dean replaced the bag into the backseat and waited a moment, staring a Sam, who'd moved to face forwards. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Sam spoke before he could get any words out.

"I'm fine Dean."

"No," Dean weighed out each word carefully, "No, you're not Sam. And frankly, I don't know what to do anymore. I've tried to talk to you, I've tried to be there for you, but you just won't talk to me."

True to his form Sam remained silent in the passenger seat.

"I've been thinking," Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Maybe," he swallowed hard, and Dean was startled to find tears welding up in his eyes, "Maybe we should check out West-Ridge."

There was a long pause and Dean held his breath, waiting for Sam to do anything. To move, to breath, to show any sign that he'd heard the words he spoke.

Sam's lips trembled a moment, "Ok."

"Ok?" Dean didn't even try to hide the fact that as the conversation went on he was becoming more and more upset, "Just like that; ok?"

Sam's chest breathed in and out heavily, though Dean knew he wasn't asleep.

"C'mon Sam!" Dean was shocked by his own anger.

"Yes," Sam spoke slowly and solidly, "Just like that."

"That's bull Sam," Dean's voice got louder and louder as he spoke, "Why the hell are you acting this way? What did I do to piss you off so badly that you would rather be at some God damn institute than with me? You're so-!"

"Please," for the first time Sam's voice shook with emotion.

Dean's chest heaved, so many emotions going through him he didn't know if he should cry or punch something. He had been planning on talking to Sam about going to see West-Ridge for nearly a day, though he never expected Sam to readily agree. He'd hoped that it would cause his brother to open up to him, to tell him that no, he'd be ok, and that all he needed was time. That he'd rather be with Dean than go to an institute where he knew no one. Instead here was Sam telling him that was exactly what he wanted to do.

"Ok," Dean forced his voice calm as he started back up the car, "We'll be there in about two days Sammy."

...

"Dean!" Sam shouted at the top of his lungs now, "Dean come back!"

"Dean!"

"Dean…" his voice came out in barely a whisper.

"Dean!" Sam screamed out in horror, "Dean!"…

Sam gasped, and sat up.

'A dream!' his mind screamed at him, 'It was all a dream!'

With trembling hands, Sam moved his fingers to his face and felt the bandage over his eyes. The dream was becoming more an more intense, and Sam wondered how much more he could take it. Dean had barely spoken two words to him the previous afternoon after they'd talked about West-Ridge. It was late by the time Dean had pulled into a small, shabby motel, and after he got Sam settled in bed and took a quick shower, the eldest Winchester went to sleep. Sam, however, had forced himself to stay awake as long as possible, knowing exactly what would happen when he'd go to sleep.

And he was right. The dream had re-occurred, and now as he sat up in bed at what he guessed was some time in the early hours of the night, his brotherly instinct told him that Dean was sitting in his own bed staring over at him. Recent days had taught Dean not to say anything after Sam had one of his dreams so instead he'd trained himself to watch silently for any signs that Sam was physically hurting or was in any danger.

An hour went by before Sam spoke into the silence, "What time is it?"

"Just after five," the reply was instant, and Sam almost smiled at the fact that so much relief swept through Dean's voice at the small conversation.

Just after five was good enough for Sam. He'd catch a nap later on, and slowly he got up and worked his way to the end of the bed where he knew Dean had thrown his bag the night before.

"Here," Sam heard Dean jump out of his bed and come over, "I'll help-"

"I don't need your help," suddenly Sam was back to his cold self, and Dean recoiled his hand away from the bag.

Making more of a mess than a two year old, and taking over five minutes, Sam finally managed to get out some fresh cloths and things to freshen up with out of the bag. Moving slowly and shuffling his feet in front of him, Sam made his way to the small bathroom at the far end of the room.

"Leave the door unlocked," Dean called after.

Sam was silent, but made a point of making sure Dean heard him lock the door after closing it firmly behind him. If the younger brother had listened, he would have heard cuss words leaking in from the room which Dean stood in, no doubt getting dressed himself. Nearly twenty minutes later Sam emerged from the bathroom with jeans and an inside-out t-shirt on.

Dean would have laughed if he didn't want to cry so much.

"Listen," Dean spoke after he helped a reluctant Sam to a chair, "I was looking through the paper from yesterday. There's a small town about four hours away called Krypt, and there's some house there that's causing some problems," Dean waited a moment to see if Sam would inquire more, but when he didn't, went on, "There's been five people killed there in the past year. All of them burned; two couples and one older man. All the same; someone sees smoke coming from one of the rooms, the fire department comes, and the bodies will be in the room, burnt to a crisp. Only thing is, they're the only things that are burnt; the room and everything else in the house will be in perfect shape."

Sam stayed sitting in the chair, facing the wall.

"We're stopping by there," Dean spoke in an affirmative voice, "I want to check it out. It'll only put us behind schedule about half a day; we'll make it to West-Ridge early the day after tomorrow."

After that Sam listened as Dean went in and out of the room, putting all of their supplies into the Impala. Last was Sam, and Dean placed a limp hand on Sam's elbow leading him towards the door. It was when Sam crashed into a chair and Dean did nothing but pull him harshly to the right that Sam started to feel bad for his older brother.

Outside Sam felt a light rain drip onto his head and heard the distant rumbling of thunder. Dean lead him the few feet to the car, and harshly planted Sam's hand on the door handle and left. Sam hesitated a moment before opening the door and clumsily got in; having heard Dean already go into the drivers side and start the chilly car up.

"Do you want something to eat or drink?" Sam could hear Dean's forced calm voice nearly three hours later as Dean pulled the car to a stop.

"No," Sam's answer was blunt and Dean left.

Strangely Sam found himself thinking of the case that Dean was going to be looking into. Something about it rung a bell. Sam had been hunting with their Dad a long time ago when he was barely fifteen. Dean was out of town, and John had decided to take Sam along on a hunt. While his Dad had gone off into a cemetery to burn some bones, he left Sam back at the car to keep an eye out for security. Sam knew that his father just wanted to do the whole burning of the body alone and so Sam had kept himself busy reading their fathers journal. It was the young Winchesters first look at the book which held all the information their Dad knew, and it was only a couple of pages in that Sam read about a demon by the name of Malum Aduro. It was a demon of fire that would catch its victims on fire, releasing their spirit, making the demon stronger and stronger. Soon the demon would be strong enough to divide into two, making two Malum Adoro's, and the whole process would start over again.

"We'll be there in about an hour," Dean's sudden voice snapped Sam out of his thoughts as the car was started up again and they headed out.

Just over an hour into the ride two things happened that caught Sam off guard. A large crack of thunder erupted what had once been a quiet sky, with it bringing down rain so hard that Sam could feel Dean slow down the Impala. The second was much more disturbing to Sam than a simple thunder storm. It was his eyes. Without any reason they were suddenly fiercely itchy, and it was all Sam could do to not take off the bandage and scratch.

Dean must have taken Sam's fidgeting as a sign of restlessness for a moment later he spoke, "We're at Krypt, but if you think that you're coming with me, you got another thing coming."

'Jerk,' Sam wished he could transfer his thoughts to Dean.

Five minutes later the car slowed to a stop and Sam heard the pounding of the rain against the roof of Dean's precious car. Something about it seemed so ominous, and so heart lurching.

So familiar.

"Hey Sam, I'll be right back," Dean's voice penetrated the momentary silence, and Sam's insides froze.

The dream!

But it was too late as Sam heard Dean close the door, leaving Sam to the sound of rain splattering against the windshield and soft purr of the still running engine.

"Dean!" Sam cried out, "Dean, come back!"

But no answer came, and Sam swung his head around, seeing nothing but blackness. He knew this! Sam knew what was going to happen, and knew he had to save his brother. But how? Sam couldn't see to undo his seat belt, never mind find something to help Dean with. A loud howl of wind shook the car as a clap of thunder erupted from the sky.

"Oh God no," Sam whimpered.

A loud scream and three shots rung out from the left side of the car. Barely thinking about what he was doing, Sam moved his hand up to the bandages covering his face and hastily began to unravel it- ignoring the pain. It seemed to take forever, but soon Sam had them removed, and pulled away the cotton from his eyes.

"Please," Sam whispered a silent prayer and forced his swollen eyes open.

The fuzzy interior of the car came into view. Sam wasn't sure if the tears coming down his face were from the pain that washed through his head or the relief that he could see. He didn't care though as a moment later he had his seatbelt undone and was fumbling to turn off the car and take out the keys.

"Come on, come on," Sam muttered as he got outside and struggled to open the trunk.

His sight was far from great and what little he could make out was hazed by the rain and darkness of the sky. What seemed like hours was only seconds as Sam finally opened it up and turned on the small light on the top of the trunk. The fact that Dean had been angry when he put the items inside was apparent as most of the things were dumped around. It made it easier for Sam, however, as he spotted what he was looking for right away.

"The journal," Sam's hands were shaking as he picked up the worn, leather bound book.

If only his eyes would focus! Sam turned the pages, squinting through pain at the haphazard papers and struggled to read the words that his father had written in there so long ago. Finally he spotted it; Malum Aduro. Tears continued to sting down Sam's face as he scanned the page for the passage he was looking for; …'many of the usual methods of killing a demon does not work on the Malum Aduro. The only thing that is able to get rid of it is it's own weapon; fire'.

"Fire," Sam breathed scanning the trunk.

He grabbed one of Deans many lighters and a propane torch. Barely taking the time to slam the trunk shut, Sam took off running towards the newly seen house. It was a large three story brick building from the early nineteenth century, and Sam's heart lurched as he realized he could look for hours in that place and may never find where Dean and the demon were. Just as this thought crossed his mind Sam tripped on a large rock, falling sharply onto the ground. A cry of pain escaped his mouth to which he heard a distance growl.

The problem of trying to find Dean and the Malum Aduro suddenly didn't exist as he looked to his right and saw a large man around ten feet tall holding up Dean by the back of his neck, now looking directly at Sam. Dean's pain filled and bloodied face stared over pleadingly at him as well.

"Dean…" Sam breathed.

The demon tossed Dean aside like a lifeless rag doll and slowly worked its way over to Sam. His long, twisted, and matted hair fell to just bellow his shoulders, his eyes white and his cloths looked singed. Sam's heart pounded painfully in his chest as he fumbled in the rain to light the propane torch. Just as the younger man was sure it wouldn't ignite, a powerful hiss let out and a blue flame licked out of the end.

"Try some of your own medicine," Sam threatened, launching forwards on his knees and lighting the legs of Malum Aduro.

Sam watched, the rain slowing down, as the demon let out a loud, pain filled cry and burst completely into flames. For a moment it stood there, flailing it's limbs in a feeble attempt to extinguish itself. The next second it burst into dust and faded away to oblivion.

"Dean," Sam gasped, struggling to his feet and rushing to his brother who still was half laying on the ground, "Dean, are you all right?"

"Sammy…" Dean stared at Sam, his eyebrows scrunched up in an attempt to keep his emotions in check, "Sam, why do you have the bandages off?"

Sam smiled, "To save your ass."

Dean let out a small chuckle and slowly moved his hand to Sam's face, "Can you see?"

"I hope so," Sam quipped.

"Smart ass."

"Better than being a dumb-" Sam started but Dean cut in.

"If you even think," Dean threatened playfully, "Of saying 'Better than being a dumb ass', I am seriously going to punch you."

Sam stared at Dean a moment and was suddenly thankful of the rain that was washing down his face as it covered up the tears which crept down. Not out of pain, he knew, but at the sight of his big brother. It occurred to him, after a time of enjoyable silence, that blood was still coming down Dean's face.

"Dean," Sam's voice broke and he was forced to clear it, "Dean, you're hurt."

Sam got to his feet and helped Dean to his. Together the two walked clumsily to the car, and Sam tossed his brother the keys before moving and getting in the passenger side seat. Dean got in the drivers side and shifted around to be able to look at Sam directly. Sam reached into the back seat and grabbed the bag of medical supplies.

"Sam," Dean grabbed Sam's arm to stop his brother from doing anything, "Look at me."

Sam looked at his brother, and Dean moved a careful hand up to his face. Carefully Dean pulled the lid up on Sam's eye and saw that though the whites were still red and pink, Sam's brown eyes sparkled with the life that had been gone. A large lump formed in Dean's throat.

"I'm ok," Sam insisted, "I promise you, I can see. God," Sam made a small laugh, "I never thought I'd be so happy to see you in my life. Even if you were dangling over three feet off the ground."

Dean laughed and looked down at his hands; desperately trying to think of the words that he wanted to say.

"Listen Sam…"

"I'm sorry Dean," Sam pulled Dean out of his uncomfortable speech, "I'm really sorry."

"Why?" Dean pulled a cloth out of the bag and placed it on a gash at the base of his forehead that was bleeding thickly.

Sam took a deep breath, "For being an ass. I didn't mean it, I didn't-" he swallowed hard, "Dean, you're my brother, and I never wanted to leave you, I swear."

"Then why?" Dean wanted to know, "Why did you say that you wanted to go?"

Sam turned his blurred gaze out the windshield, watching a droplet of water make its way down, "I've- I had a dream."

"So I've noticed."

"And it ended the same way every time," anger was laced through Sam's voice, "You died, and there was nothing I could do. I-I tried to get out of the car to help you but I couldn't, and then," Sam painfully squeezed his eyes shut trying to force the image of a lifeless Dean out of his head.

"Hey," Dean placed a hand on Sam's arm, "It's ok now," he smirked, "You saved my ass again."

"But that's why," Sam took a cleansing breath, "I thought that if I stayed away from you that my dream wouldn't happen."

"But it did, didn't it?" Dean asked the question, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "The rain, you leaving me in the car. Everything was the same."

"Sam when something like this happens, I need you to talk to me," Dean tried to keep his voice comforting, "You scared the crap outta me man. Don't do that."

Sam smirked, "Sorry," he glanced at the blood mixed water that was washed over his brothers face, "Are you all right Dean?"

"I'll live," Dean paused a long moment before speaking with a smile, "You think you're pretty smooth knowing how to get rid of that thing, don't you?"

"Aww, it was a piece of cake," Sam gave a last glance at his older brother a moment before turning his gaze back to the windshield, "Anyone who can see could have figured it out."

The End.