This is just a little drabble about how I imagine the opening moments of next season. Obviously, spoilers for all of season 9.

When Cas arrived at the bunker it was deserted. He wasn't sure Sam was even here as he hadn't been answering his calls. He checked in Sam and Dean's bedrooms and in the kitchen before finally finding Sam crumpled in a heap on the floor of the same dungeon in which Cas had last seen Dean.

"Sam?" Cas asked uncertainly, just now noticing the man's shoulders shaking from his silent sobbing. That last tiny piece of hope that somehow Metatron was lying and that Dean was actually fine was quickly fading.

"Cas?" Sam chocked, peering out from behind his curtain of hair and his tears.

"What happened, Sam?" Cas said evenly, his tone of voice not giving away the fact that tears had started to form in his eyes for the second time in his existence.

Sam didn't seem able to put anything into words; he just stared around the dungeon in confusion, grief marking his every feature. Cas walked over to Sam and placed a hand on his shoulder. After a few more moments of Sam trying to control his sobbing and Cas blinking away the tears which refused to abate, Sam was finally able to choke out,

"Crowley won't answer my summons," he stood up shakily as the anger he was starting to feel began to give him some fight.

"Sam," Cas replied disapprovingly, "you can't be thinking of making a crossroads deal."

"No, I shouldn't have to!" Sam's voice was rising with his growing anger, "This is Crowley's fault! All of it! He's the one who took Dean to get the Mark, he's the one who broke him out of this place! I'm going to make him fix the mess he made!"

Cas wasn't sure what to say, how to comfort Sam, so there was a brief stretch of silence before Cas broke it.

"Can I see Dean?" he asked quietly, a slight waver in his voice and his slightly red eyes the only signs of his grief.

Sam seemed to deflate at this, all his anger and fight gone.

"Yeah, sure Cas, he's… he's in his room," Sam's voice broke as a new wave of despair washed over him.

"In his room?" Cas asked, confused.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Sam, I looked for you in there before I found you here and his room was empty." Sam and Cas exchanged looks of worry and confusion before Sam swept from the room, Cas at his heels.

"What the hell?" Sam breathed out when Sam saw Dean's empty bedroom. He laced his fingers behind his head as his mind raced with possibilities.

Cas, looking closer at the room this time, noticed the bed was crinkled where Dean had likely been. Those pesky tears started to form in his eyes again.

"Crowley. It must have been Crowley!" Sam was getting angry again and Cas wasn't sure which attitude he preferred from him – sobbing or yelling.

"Why would Crowley have any use for Dean's…" Cas trailed off, unable to finish his question.

Sam face cringed at what he knew Cas had been about to say nonetheless, fishing for a plausible answer.

"I don't know. Does he need an excuse? He's the king of hell, he's an evil guy."

"Ooh, my spine is tingling! You wouldn't happen to be talking about me by any chance?" Sam and Cas whirled around, coming face to face with Crowley.

"Where's Dean!" Sam yelled; his anger so etched on his tear stained face it was a surprise steam wasn't coming from his nostrils.

"Now, now Moose. With manners like those you can hardly expect me to just spill my guts, but oh wait! Your dear squirrel has already done that, hasn't he?" This time both Cas and Sam surged forward, determined to cause Crowley as much pain as they could.

"Uh, uh!" Crowley held up two hands, creating an invisible shield which stopped the two men in their tracks.

"Where is Dean?" Cas demanded, all of this starting to feel like too much. If his grace were stronger, he would have had Crowley's shield down and had him begging for mercy by now.

"He's been with me, out on the town. Given his new perspective, I thought he might be more appreciative of my friendship." Crowley loved the looks of pure confusion and revulsion which were warring on the other two men's faces.

"Dean's gone to hell?" Cas asked disbelievingly, hating the fact that he was no longer in any position to pull him out again – nor were any of the angels at this point.

"No, you poor excuse for an angel," Crowley paused to relish in their confusion before continuing, "I can call for him if you'd like, perhaps you need a visual aid."

Sam and Cas were struggling to understand anything, terrified of what Crowley may have done to Dean.

"Oh, squirrel!" Crowley called in a mockingly sweet tone. Nothing happened. Cas and Sam stared at each other dubiously, each thinking the same in regards to Crowley sanity.

"Dean Winchester! Get your backside up here this instant!" Suddenly, Dean appeared, facing Crowley.

"Dean?" Sam and Cas exclaimed with varying degrees of wonderment, relief and confusion. At the sound of his name, Dean slowly turned around and when they saw his black eyes, they knew the Dean they knew was long gone.