I want to thank the followers of my story, "Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace." The story is not forgotten but is on hiatus for right now. I will finish the story because I don't like to leave things undone; but, I need to get this current story written. The season finale was great and I can't wait until October to find out what happens. So, I decided to write what I believe will be canon but only the writers know what will happen! I am still new at writing so I am open to criticism and direction. Thank you again.

I do not own the characters of this story. That pleasure goes to Mr. Kripke.

"Open your eyes . . . Let's take a howl at that moon." Crowley speaks excitedly, patiently awaiting Dean to open his eyes.

Within seconds, Dean opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling. Everything looks and feels the same to him. He remembers everything, including what happened before he opened his eyes. He remembers being beaten senseless by Metatron. He remembers Metatron stabbing him with the angel blade and twisting it to refute any possible way of recovering. He remembers the look of horror on Sam's face when he knew he was not going to make it out of this one alive. Finally, he remembers telling Sam how proud he was of them before everything faded to black. He may still be proud of Sam but, how can he be proud of himself right now. He is 100% certain he did not come back from the dead with no consequences. Everything seems to fall into place as he also begins to recall hearing Crowley's voice revealing the predicament he now faces. As he tightens his grip on the first blade, his fingers begin to twitch as he turns his head to face Crowley.

"Whoa, easy there tiger." Crowley cautiously states as he slowly takes a step back, stretching his hands out in front of him as Dean lays there with a look of pure murder in his black eyes.

Crowley took another step back and bumped into Dean suddenly behind him. Dean throws him up against the wall, knocking over a few items in the process, causing a loud crashing sound which did not go unnoticed.

Downstairs, Sam waited impatiently for Crowley to appear when he heard the loud crash. "Dean?" Sam calls his name in part disbelief and hope. "Dean!" Sam then yells, bolting towards where he laid Dean to rest.

Quickly approaching the room, Sam begins to slow down as he hears Dean hollering at Crowley. He stops at the door to see Dean holding Crowley a foot off the ground with the first blade at his jugular.

"Tell me. Give me one reason why I shouldn't end you right now?" Dean spats out.

"I didn't know, Dean, I swear!" Crowley entreats. "I said it was important, fundamental, for you to know that."

"Ask me if I give a crap!" Dean snarls. "I heard your pathetic speech. What kind of new life is this? Do I look like I want to go howl at any damn moons?" Dean presses the blade further into Crowley's neck drawing a little blood onto the blade, exciting him even more.

"I am not the only one at fault here, you know!" Crowley yells back. "You decided to take on the mark going all rogue. You could have said no. No one forced you. You wanted Abaddon dead just as much as I and no one, or anything, was going to stop you."

Dean was about to retort when he felt a familiar presence in the room.

"Dean?" Sam questioned as he looked at Dean. "Dean."

Dean heard Sam and loosened his hold on Crowley a little as his eyes turned from black rage to his emerald green. Hearing Sam's voice slightly crippled him and brought some familiarity and humanity back to Dean if but for a moment. He did not want Sam to see him like this. Uncertainty, doubt, and fear gripped him enough for Crowley to take advantage of the situation and escape his grasp, positioning himself equally between Sam and Dean.

Shoulders hunched and back towards Sam, all Dean could get out was, "Go away Sam," as he still gripped the blade as if his life depended on it.

Sam took a step forward inside the room before sternly answering, "No," to Dean's request. "I am not leaving you anymore. I made that mistake once and I will not do it again."

Back still facing Sam and Crowley, Dean slowly shakes his head. "I can't. I can't deal with you right now, Sammy." Dean pleads as he struggles to keep his rage contained from lashing out and possibly hurting his brother.

"Tough." Sam replies as he glances at Crowley who just looks at him with an innocent expression. He turns back to Dean and continues. "Whatever it is, we can deal with it. We've faced a lot of crap Dean and we came out of it. I am not going to let you out of my sight. Just, put the blade down and-"

Before Sam could finish his sentence, he found himself in the same position Crowley was in. The only difference was Dean held him up with his forearm to his neck instead of the blade. No trace of green in Dean's eyes, Sam stared at a pair of hollow black eyes representing the mere shell of what his brother used to be.

"Really, are you ready to deal with this Sam? Huh, are you?" Dean furiously questions Sam.

Sam's expression is mixed with terror, sorrow, and anger as he looks at his brother and then to Crowley, who just shrugs back at him.

"Look at me!" Dean pulls and bangs Sam back to the wall. "Still want to keep me in your sight? Still want to deal with this?"

Gloss starts to form in Sam's eyes as he sees what his brother has become. Part of him feels responsible for his brother becoming the thing he hated most. Everything he put his brother through, put himself through, seems meaningless now. All looks lost, but he refuses to believe this is the end for his brother. With a new determination, he looks at his brother, his image blurry from the unshed tears in his eyes, and speaks.

"Yes. You're my brother and come hell or high water, I will not leave you."

Dean flinches at his response and although his eyes were still black, Sam could see the shock in his expression. Dean backs off and, before Sam could speak again, he disappears.

"Dean!" Sam shouts. "Damn it!" Sam breathes heavily.

Witnessing everything, Crowley leans against the dresser, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Temperamental little demon isn't he?" Crowley mocks.

"Shut. The. Hell. Up." Sam retorts in a tone to make even the King of Hell take him seriously. "This is your doing. Don't you dare tell me you didn't have the smallest inclination this was going to happen? You will find a way to get him out of this. You will do something or so help me-"

"So help you what? God? Is that what you were going to say? Don't make me laugh! Do you think I can make Dean do something, anything right now? Do you really believe he's just any old run of the mill demon? I don't think so, and you can't make me do anything. I am still the King of Hell."

Sam advances toward Crowley but does not reach him quick enough. Crowley raises his hand throwing Sam across the room and out the door.

"I don't think so. I'll be damned if I get hemmed up by you too. How about you cool off eh?" Crowley disappears, leaving Sam alone and unconscious on the floor.