A/N: Because I had to get some type of closure. Even if it's really not… Kinda based off of/response to this post: /uBcX5p
"Dammit Crowley, where are you?"
Sam threw the box of matches on the ground. They skidded and landed next to polished leather shoes as the King of Hell appeared. He looked up at the demon.
"Calm down, Moose. No need to get upset." Crowley sounded bored.
"No need to get upset? It's because of you that my brother is dead!"
"Now, now, don't cry. Remember the good times." It seemed Crowley was in the mood for pleasantries.
Sam was not. "Bring Dean back."
"I already have."
The threat that was on the tip of Sam's tongue died as the words registered in his mind. Almost instantaneously, the doors of the dungeon flew open, as though pushed by invisible hands. Dean strode into the room, familiar smirk back in place.
Dean turned to face his brother. His eyes flashed black.
"Heya, Sammy."