Dean’s always been a guy who’s driven by instinct, his senses sharp and alive in a way most people can’t understand. But this? This is something different. You know how much he loves his cars, his music, the hunt, the adrenaline. But for a guy who takes in the world with such raw intensity, color’s always been a mystery to him, a thing that doesn’t feel real, just a gray blur.

You’ve decided you’re going to fix that. You’ve seen how frustrated he gets, how he can’t quite understand why everyone’s so fascinated by the reds and the blues. But you’re determined to make him see, or at least feel, what it’s like. “Alright, Dean,” you start one evening as you sit side by side on the Impala’s hood, the night air cool but not too cold. “Let’s try this.”

He tilts his head at you, skeptical. You can almost hear the eye-roll without him saying a word. “Imagine red. Now, close your eyes. Think about a fire. The heat. The sharp burn that makes your skin tingle when you get too close.” You pause, watching his eyes. You’re hoping he’s picturing it. “It’s like when you touch the hood of the car after it’s been running for hours. That intense heat? That’s red.”

You watch as he looks down, like he’s really trying to feel it, trying to understand. You take a deep breath and go on. “Now, think about blue. Imagine standing by the ocean, the cool breeze on your face, and the way the air smells, salty and fresh. Blue’s like a cold drink on a hot day, chilled to the bone, refreshing, but somehow calm, peaceful. It’s like the way the leather of the seats feels against your back when you’re driving, smooth but firm.”

Dean nods slowly, though you’re not sure if it’s entirely registering. But you’re not giving up yet.