Destiel Fluff

Glasses

Chapter Thirteen -Glasses-

"Cas, c'mere." Dean demanded.

Castiel, as usual, followed suit. He promptly was at the side of the Winchester, blue eyes squinting at him.

"What do you require?" Cas asked.

"We're goin' huntin'." Dean declared after much pontificating and debating with his brother.

It was clear the eldest won the argument.

"There's a davea the next town over, we should help some folks out. Like old times."

Castiel agreed to tag along.

---

They returned three days later. Cas was bruised up pretty bad and had a bloody nose. Dean was much worse and Sam remained unscathed.

"I thought you said you could handle shooting a gun! You almost got yourself killed, not to mention Dean!" Sam lectured the ex-angel.

"I'm sorry, I thought I could-"

"Well thinking so doesn't really cut it on jobs like these."

"Dammit, Sammy. Cut him some slack, man. It's like his first time on an actual job after goin' human." Dean said through his wincing and gritted teeth. "Plus," he added "I don't even think he can see fully straight."

"That's an understatement..." Sam mumbled to himself.

Dean sat up and whacked his little brothers shoulder with the back of his hand.

"I heard that." He said dryly. After getting up, he got himself something to drink, brought the glass to his lips and took a swig, and with that, sat back down on the table with a relived hiss.

Cas watched this go down. "What do you mean?" He asked, questioning the comments being made on his eyesight.

"I dunno. You squint n' can't shoot right n' you run into stuff all the time. We just aren't sure if you're quite Barbara Walters in the eyeball realm."

"Barbara... Walters?" Cas questioned, Sam wondering the same thing.

"Barbara Walters: 20/20? 20/20 vision? Anyone? No? Buler?" Dean was answered with a blank stare from Castiel and an eye roll from Dean. "Eh, nevermind."

"... Anyway, what he is saying is we should invest in getting you some glasses, Cas."

---

The optometrist office is a weird place. Dr. Alcorn was nice, however. She was pretty (even if she was a little blurry) and she was very nice.

She put Cas through all sorts of tests after Dean filled out some papers.

There was one that had him look at a picture of a barn that puffed air at his eyes which they had to do like six times, cos his eyes reflexively close and make the test inaccurate.

He later had to click a button for every red dot he saw.

Soon enough, he was brought into a dark room.

She looked at his eyes with a small flashlight and had him follow the light.

He then had to sit in this chair that had a massive contraption that was situated before his face.

She turned on a projecter a a few blobs of blackish color appeared on the wall.

"One," she asked while flipping a lens over "Or two?" and repeating the process.

"Two." He replied, in the sense that the picture was made clear to be a chart of letters.

This continues for a while until she brought Dean in and told him that Cas had a 20/200 (or 50.00% vision). She also said she was surprised that Castiel had nor already had a vision test, nor ever even suspected that he had vision problems.

She told them to go pick a frame he liked in the lobby.

---

Cas must have tried on 100 pairs of glasses by now.

Dean was tired of it, and he took a nap in the waiting chair after the first ten minutes.

"Dean," Cas said, shaking Dean gently. "Wake up. I have made the purchase, they'll be done on Tuesday, said the woman."

"Oh. Right on. Glad to know you finally made a choice, Goldie Locks."

And so they left.

---

Come Tuesday, Cas opened the little case and put on his thick, black, rectangular framed glasses and asked,

"How do I look?"

Dean caught sight, smiled and shook his head.

"Like a complete dork and I love them."