Everything faded together as Sam stabbed the needle into his arm and pressed down the plunger. If Crowley concentrated hard he could swear he hear someone shouting as they sobbed. The voice sounded familiar, yet he couldn't place who it belonged to. Either way, it was oddly comforting in a way to hear something that sounded so familiar. It was as if he was drowning slowly, and all the pain he felt drained away. Unfortunately, good things never seem to last in this world and as his vision blurred more into a pool of darkness, the last thing Crowley heard was the faint sound of something hitting the floor over the obnoxious ringing in his ears.

With a flash of extremely bright light, Crowley slowly peeked open his eyes, squinting against the blinding darkness of the room. His senses returning to him, he groaned in discomfort as he struggled to remember what just happened to him. Looking down, he saw a blurry figure, kneeling as it held a body sprawled across the ground. Suddenly, he remembered everything and it was like getting punched in the face a thousand times in a row. Everything rushed back to him; the trials, his capture, begging for forgiveness, Abaddon, Dean's attempt to save his brother and to convince him to stop the trials, and the final dose of blood that led to the white light and then this. He could feel Sam's blood surging through his veins, changing him, opening his eyes to what he could never see before, to what he couldn't feel before. He could see everything as it happened like he was a ghost in the room, unseen as he watched Sam back away from Dean, coming closer to Crowley. He watched with horror and dread as Sam took the final step back and jabbed the needle into his own arm, mouthing a silent sorry to Dean as the older brother cried out and lunged forward, futilely trying to stop Sam from finishing the trial. He watched Sam's eyes as they fluttered closed and he fell towards the ground, caught by his brother before hitting the floor. He could hear every pained sob that came out of Dean's mouth as he held his brother in his arms, begging him to come back. He felt something new, something paining his lungs as he breathed that shared the grief and agony that Dean felt and was still feeling.

As Crowley was snapped out of his daze, he looked with new eyes at Dean as he knelt next to Sam's body, his hands clinging onto Sam's chest as if letting go would mean falling off of the edge of the Earth. His head was down on his hands, unable to look at the broken face of his brother or the monster that sat chained to a chair in front of him. He didn't care that Hell was sealed and all of humanity was safe from the very demons that had cost him his entire family. He didn't care that the King of Hell was sitting, purified and chained, a whole two feet away from where he knelt. All he cared about was Sam. He didn't want to live safely and have a life if Sam wasn't in it. He didn't want to hunt down every other damn ghost and vampire in existence is Sam didn't have his back. Hell, he didn't even want to move from this spot if Sam wasn't going to move with him.

Crowley had no idea what to do with the scene in front of him, all these new emotions flooding his mind as he tried to think of a logical way to do anything. He couldn't imagine what Dean was going through, and could tell he was suffering by the way his shoulders trembled and shook with each ragged breath he took. Pain was also a small part of his humanity that he seemed to have reclaimed and as Crowley tried to move, he groaned softy at the stiffness in between them. Refocusing on the brothers in front of him, he noticed for the first time how beat down and exhausted Sam looked, yet how peaceful and relaxed death had left him. As he came to realize the amount of pain that he had caused the duo, he felt as if his chest was being ripped and sawed open and his chest was bursting.

The soft groan of pain from the only other being in the room brought Dean out of his muddled trance of indifference to the world. Still not moving, he listened to the others heavy breathing, trying to still his own and keep from sobbing uncontrollably. Like he had always done when something horrible happened, he started to mentally lock away everything that had happened, telling himself that this wasn't Sam, that Sam was in the car or at a motel or staying with a girl he met at a bar for the night. No, wait, that last one was more like him. Scratch that, Sam was probably running late while getting some crappy diner food for them because he forgot the pie like always. In a broken way, Dean smirked into Sam's shirt, and started shaking even more as he tried to lock away his emotions and be strong like his dad always told him to be. A voice in his head sneered back at him. Yeah, guess what else Daddy told you to do? Protect your brother! Keep Sammy safe. Didn't do too good of a job at that, did ya? Never listen when it matters, do you? Always screwing up. He told you to protect your brother, and look what happened. Here's brother dearest, crumpled and broken. Great job. Can't wait to see what else you can screw up. You should just kill yourself already. You know you want to now that you don't have precious Sammy to hold you together.

With a shudder, Dean got up quickly, surprising the other occupant of the room. Crowley seemed to struggle for words as emotions Dean had never seen on his face flickered on and off. So, the trial had worked, Dean mused silently. Despite his inner curiosity, Dean kept his face vacant of emotion and dug in his pocket for the keys to the chains around Crowley's neck, ankles, and hands. Actually, Dean didn't really care if it had worked or not. He would happily set free the King of Hell if it meant some alone time to break into pieces slowly over his brothers corpse.

"Dean, I-I'm so sorry" Crowley managed to finally say, voice thick with emotion.

When Dean didn't respond or show any recognition, Crowley got even more worried than he already was which probably wasn't possible.

"…Dean..?" He tentatively called out as Dean, stoic and emotionless, fished the keys to his chains out of his pocket. Emotionless wasn't really the right word for Dean's expression. It was just so empty and void of feeling that it chilled Crowley right down to the bone.

"..Dean please talk to me, I'm..I just..I….." Crowley trailed of as he tried to get a reaction out of Dean, attempting to apologize, as if that was even possible. The damage that he had done to the Winchester boys was going to follow him to his grave, and he knew that. There was no forgiving what he had done.

Crowley almost tried to back away from Dean as he stepped up to him and reached for the lock on the collar around his neck. With a click, the locked popped open and Dean took it off and tossed it to the ground, causing Crowley to flinch as he tried to think of what to do. With a bang, the collar fell to the floor and Dean bent down to unlock the cuffs around Crowley's ankles.

"Dean, are you okay?" Obviously he knew Dean wasn't okay, but he needed to get him to say something. He might have actually been happier if Dean had socked him right in the face instead of being so eerily silent. He knew that he should be trying to keep Dean talking so he wouldn't lose it, so this was his best try.

With a sad smile filled with anguish, Dean's eyes teared up and as he reached for Crowley's wrists, he looked Crowley in the eyes and chocked out an almost silent "no" that was filled with so much pain that Crowley was shocked into silence. Almost relieved that Dean was okay, but worried by his response, he yet again tried to apologize.

"Dean, I'm so sorry for..everything…I just h-" Crowley managed to get out before Dean stopped him with another soft, choked reply.

"I know Crowley, it's okay," Dean stated softly while concentrating on unlocking the cuffs around Crowley's wrists.

"But, you can't possibly mean that, I destroyed everything, I should be damned for eternity which I probably am, but you should hate me. Tell me how much you hate me! It-It's not okay!" Crowley rambled, trying to see why Dean was being so forgiving.

With a sad but kind look, Dean got up after freeing Crowley completely and helped him stand up. Facing him, Dean took the keys to his Impala out of his coat pocket and put them in Crowley's hand.

"Take good care of her, she's been thorough a lot. There should be a ton of cash in the trunk unless S..Sam took some and I didn't know. Good luck Crowley." Dean said, having a difficult time saying Sam's name out loud, before going swiftly to kneel next to his brother's side again, leaving Crowley confused. Crowley looked down from the open air where Dean's face had been a second ago to the keys in his hand. Shocked yet again by Dean's actions, Crowley looked over to where Dean was by Sam's side and finally everything clicked into place.

"No-" Crowley reacted a second too late to do anything as Dean placed his gun to his head and pulled the trigger, eyes full of fresh tears even though they glazed over with death. Dean's now lifeless body slumped over his brother's chest as blood poured from the hole in the side of head.

Eyes wide with shock, Crowley was at a loss for what to do. He didn't even realize it, but his own eyes filled with tears that eventually blurred this sight of the bloody scene in front of him. No matter how his tears cloudy his sight, the image of the Winchester boys, still and lifeless before him, would never leave his mind. Finally, his knees gave out and Crowley collapsed onto the floor in tears as he tried to process what just happened.

Hands on his head, as if to aid his lungs as he started to struggle to breathe, Crowley sobbed, face struck with horror as his mind seemed to repeat only one thought: What am I supposed to do now?!