Here's the epilogue (which is why it's so short)! This part takes place in the episode Bloody Mary, right after Mary is destroyed, so a few weeks after the last chapter.
Dean flung the mirror to the side with what felt like the last vestiges of strength in his body, gasping for breath; it smashed with a satisfying crunch of breaking glass. His head was throbbing with a deep, slow headache and though his eyes seemed to be fine he could feel the blood congealing on his cheeks. He sagged back, allowing his body to relax onto the floor for just a few seconds.
Sam, beside him, was unable to do the same.
Through eyes clogged by blood he had seen Mary twist and shrink, dissolving into nothingness-he had blinked as Dean flung the last mirror aside-now all he was aware of was the pain spearing his whole head, so intense that he could not open his eyes and every tiny sound, even just Dean's laboured breathing at his side, slammed deep into his skull like a physical blow. He scrunched up his face, trying to control it-freaking spirits, he fumed. It wasn't fair. He had faced her and her powers twice, and now it just hurt too much to think.
Still, at least they'd been able to save that poor girl…Charlie who Mary had targeted because of someone else's crazy blame-targeted like she had targeted him-
Memories swam through his mind. His own face in the mirror, twisted by hate, eyes bleeding. You killed her. That demon version of himself, speaking his innermost and worst fears in his own voice-Bloody Mary as himself, forcing all the pain inside him out into the open to be faced.
And she's right, Sam thought. I did…I killed Jessica…
He opened his eyes. Horror blasted through him.
He was staring into a black, empty, pulsing darkness that was as familiar to him as his worst nightmares. Blind. No. No, it was not possible. Even his luck was not that bad. No. No, please no…he blinked, tasting the metallic tang of blood and panic. But still his eyes opened on nothingness. He felt his breathing speed up until he was almost hyperventilating, the pain in his head driven through his very mind like a rusty old nail, grinding against the edges of his thoughts. He was blind. Mary had destroyed his eyes. It had happened again. He remembered the bleeding eyes of his demon face in the mirror-remembered the pain, the agonising weakness and feeling of being torn apart from the inside out that had forced him to his knees. He had not known if his head was imploding or his heart.
Now he knew. She had taken his eyes. The blood running down his face was not just blood-it was the remains, horrifically, of his eyes. Dean had come too late-his eyes had exploded, just like those of all her other victims He was blind again, this time for good. It was over.
Suddenly Dean's hands were on his shoulders, lifting him into a sitting position. Sam struggled almost deliriously, tears now mingling with the hot blood smearing his face. "Easy, easy, Sammy," came Dean's voice from beyond the darkness. "Easy, she's gone, let me look atcha…" His fingers gripped Sam's face, forcing it upwards, and Sam felt a spike of new pain, heartache, rip through him. He gasped, face convulsing. Dean let go of him, startled.
"What's wrong? Sam? Hey-hey, breathe, okay? Take it easy. Breathe."
"Dean," Sam gasped almost incoherently. "Dean-my eyes-gone-Dean, I'm blind, it's happened again-can't see-she took-my eyes-" He heard a sharp intake of breath, then felt Dean's fingers on his face once again, gentler this time, probing cautiously. Sam struggled to breathe, his whole body shaking violently, unable to believe this horror, this nightmare that had returned-it was too late, it was over, he could not deal with this, never handle something as horrific as this, he was finished and he could feel himself dying right here and now, because he just could not deal with this kind of pain-
"Sam," Dean said softly. "Sam, it's okay. You're okay. There's blood in your eyes is all, you're okay."
Sam shook his head, more tears spilling down his face. "No-m'blind-I know-"
Dean was laughing now, weakly, with relief. It cut Sam to the core. "No, you're not. It's just the blood. You're gonna be okay, Sam. You hear me? You're okay." He guided Sam's hand to his face and blindly, desperately Sam scrabbled at the congealing mess of blood caking at the edges of his eyes. He scraped away the mess and already there was Dean's face smiling worriedly down at him, the faint moonlight penetrating into the little chamber and glinting off the chaos of broken glass scattered all around. He sucked in a long, shivering breath, scraping away at the blood concealing his other eye too, and suddenly he could see again, he was not blind. Not blind.
"Two runs with ole Mary a little much for you, huh?" Dean suggested with wobbly flippancy. Sam laughed harshly, painfully, amazed and completely overwrought.
"S'okay. You were scared."
Sam dropped his gaze, somewhat embarrassed by his panic. Dean glanced around the room, then laughed. "Hey, Sam. This has gotta be, what, a thousand years' bad luck?" Sam followed his gaze around the graveyard of broken glass and jagged fragments of mirror frames, and he found himself laughing too, instead of crying, a deep and almost racking laugh that shook and hurt his battered body, but it was a pain he would never have done without.
Well, there it is, finished! I really hope you liked this last chapter and that the story has in no way disappointed. A big thank you to MysteryMadchen for the idea of doing a blind Sam story, which I wasn't sure I'd be able to manage, so I hope I did it justice because it was epic to try it out! And as always my thanks to everyone who stuck with this story and who reviewed it, because I couldn't have done it without that encouragement. Again, thank you all and I hope you enjoyed this story!