Silence rang in the tall man's ears as he peered down at the demon chained before him. He squinted, cocking his head, as he watched him writhe and presumably weep in what he believed to be pain. It was pathetic, sort of, to see the King of Hell at his wit's end.

"Crowley," Sam prompted tonelessly.

"Are you still here, Moose?" Crowley barked in reply, his head snapping up towards the Winchester.

"Uh, yeah."

"It was a rhetorical question you ass," the king narrowed his eyes up at Sam now, balling his hands into fists as he tried to tug out of his restraints to no avail. He sighed, sinking into his chair. He realized that, even if he somehow managed to escape his bindings, he was far too weak to take on Sam at the moment. And fleeing didn't seem doable.

"Can't you just leave me alone?"

"No."

"Why?" Crowley's voice was rising. He boiled in his anger momentarily before his face softened as Sam opened his mouth to speak, the king's eyes falling gingerly to the man's lips as he formed words.

"I thought you could use the company." Sam didn't want to admit that he, maybe, was developing a feeling of sympathy for Crowley. To be perfectly honest; the guy was rubbing off on him. And he really sort of hated it. He crossed his giant arms over his torso, eyeing the man before him.

"You thought wrong," Crowley finally breathed, dropping his gaze entirely away from Sam as he lied through his teeth. He, too, was developing a feeling for Sam. But not a feeling he wanted to admit to; a feeling of the worst emotion ever. He liked Sam. But what good does that word do? He likes alcohol. He likes killing people. He likes a lot of things. Loving things, on the other hand, he didn't do as often.

"Oh, come on. You're a neon sign."

Crowley's eyes fluttered up, his heart suddenly beating in his chest. "What?"

"I know you like my company," Sam chuckled, his eyes darting around the room briefly. "I'm your f-..." He gulped, averting eye contact intentionally now for a moment before his gaze landed on Crowley. He drew in a deep breath, frowning now as he inclined his head.

"You're my what, Moose?" A smirk tugged at the corners of Crowley's mouth as he showed his teeth. "Where you about to say you're my friend? You? My friend?" He let out a shrill laugh of amusement; although behind his laugh he felt his heart clinch and his stomach bubble with warmth. "Why would I want to be friends with mother fucking you? The very thought-" he trailed off into laughs that made Sam's head spin. His face was flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger.

"Asshole."

"That's no way to speak to your friend, Moose!" Crowley shouted, his voice followed by a line of chuckles. Wearing a grin, he stared up at Sam. "That was the greatest joke I've heard in...in...in since I was human, Moose."

Sam said nothing, simply stared at Crowley as thoughts raced through his mind. He didn't know what to say or how to say it, so his simplest conclusion was to leave. And that's just what he was going to do.

"Fine," Sam huffed. "Rot in this god forsaken world without a single friend, Crowley. See if I care." He turned on his heels and slipped out of the dungeon, closing the heavy door behind him as Crowley's laughter followed him out.

Completely alone, Crowley's laughter continued. The door thudded shut and the sound of the lock ensured his loneliness. His laughter continued momentarily before slowly transitioning into blubbering wails as the man cried.