Thank you, SammieRose28 for betaing this!
No one had known this, and it could've been a relief to have the information. If they'd known. The problem was no one knew. Nobody had any idea it would happen. Dean had made a promise that he wouldn't break. As a consequence, days turned to weeks that turned to months.
Sam was in Hell.
He wasn't in The Cage, he might've been a bit more fortunate there. He was in Hell.
When the two Archangels fell into The Cage; they shed their vessels. Sam and Adam had been free falling into The Cage. Instinct, more than anything, made Sam cover his eyes to protect himself from the Archangels' true forms. Adam hadn't been as fortunate. While they plunged down The Cage recognized the humans, it wasn't made for them. The Cage spit them out. Rather than hitting the bottom of The Cage with lethal impact Sam and Adam were thrown from it, the two of them hit the icy ground of Hell.
The impact left Sam feeling as though every bone in his body had been shattered, it took all of his willpower to push himself into a sitting position and he wished he hadn't. He should've lay there and suffered through the pain. The Cage was a few feet from where he had landed and the sound of two immensely powerful beings clashing rattled it, the sound was something Sam had never heard before. If he survived all of this, he would never get past it. The sound would haunt him for eternity.
All Sam wanted to do was run.
The sound rang through to his very core, it tore him apart in terrible ways. All he could think about was Adam. Even as the sound of the archangels clashing tore through him all he could do was force his aching body to crawl to the side of his younger brother, despite the fact that there was nothing left in the corpse of the youngest Winchester.
Adam was dead. Whether from the impact of falling or the Holy Fire he wasn't sure. Adam was dead. That was the only relief in this situation. Adam wasn't there with him. Not really.
Swallowing heavily, he forced himself to his feet and began trudging away from The Cage. He didn't go alone, carefully he picked up the body of his brother. They would get out of there together. No matter what.
.-~*~-.
Crowley found Sam wandering Hell, holding his dead brother as he searched for a way out. There were a thousand options for what Crowley could've done with Sam Winchester.
Truly, the possibilities were endless. However, something about the Moose stopped him. He was broken and holding the corpse of his younger brother.
Broken by the pure darkness of Hell.
What had been a year in Earth time of wandering had been a hundred and twenty years in Hell.
Even without torture being inflicted on him he had begun to shatter and break. Crowley could've taken pity on him, returned him to Earth. He could've been merciless and sent him to the abandoned rack and put one of the past torturers to work on him.
However, when the middle brother looked at him he was unable to look away. He was so very broken, tainted, and destroyed.
Hell had done its number on what had once been a strong and powerful hunter. What he had once been had been washed away by grief and the very essence of Hell. The Winchester was vulnerable in a way Crowley had never expected possible. A hundred and twenty years. A hundred and twenty years and he had never dropped his brother.
"Take him." Two words that might've broken Crowley's heart, if he had one. Instead he just marveled at the complete lack of care the man showed for himself. Here he was, talking to the King of Hell, trapped in the very same place. Of all the questions, all the favors he could've asked, he asked nothing more than for him to take the youngest brother.
Crowley couldn't help himself, he needed to know, how much damage had Hell done to him? "Take him where?" Crowley questioned the Winchester.
Sam had a distant expression on his face, lost for a moment. Then he spoke, his words shaky, his eyes pleading. He looked like a lost puppy. "To my brother. Take him. Please."
"That is your brother, Sam." The words were true, Crowley knew what Hell could do though. He had to wonder. It sucked away, ripped at all the good, tore it until there was nothing but bad.
"My other brother." Sam whispered, his eyes pleaded, begged the king.
Crowley could've told the middle Winchester "no", could've taken him to the since forgotten racks, instead he accepted the corpse of the youngest brother. Not out of pity, not because he cared. No. The reason was quite simple. Adam was the last thing tying Sam to his life. The only thing keeping Hell from turning him. The broken shell of the Moose was reliant on the brother who had died. Without him, Hell would chew him up and spit him out.
With that in mind, Crowley disappeared from the spot that held the middle of Hell to leave Sam to wander, to let him wander and seek until all hope was lost. He would return Adam's corpse to Dean. Not to be kind but because it would break the oldest. It would give him some sort of hope. Hope that, maybe, if the youngest had made it out dead, maybe the middle would make it out alive. Maybe Sam would survive. Hope was a great weapon towards an already broken man.
I got bored and this idea came to mind. Not great I know but boredom is boredom.
