Five-thirty pm. Five-thirty pm was when Crowley had snapped his fingers to freeze Sam in time before going in. Six-thirty pm was when Crowley assured Dean that he meant Little Brother - Little Moose - no harm but that they had to talk. Five-thirty pm was when Dean had no choice but to listen.

Five thirty-four pm. Frustrated, Crowley needed to make himself clear.

"Listen to me, Dean. Abaddon will make you an offer. She will take Sam away and she will make you kill him." Crowley paused, desperately hoping his words would sink in. "Now I am giving you," Crowley paused, trying to get a hold of his own anger, "a better offer! Take it!" he whispered viciously.

Dean stared daggers at Crowley. He glanced at his frozen-in-time brother, about to enter the service tunnel entrance of the hotel. He looked lethal, determined... Steadfast, healthy and strong. All while Dean had been slipping into despair, alcohol, and a craving for power that he'd still only tasted a couple times from holding that knife...

But of course Sam didn't know that. Since the beginning of all this Dean had been concealing - trying to give the impression that he was fine. That he could handle everything without a confidante. That he could be as self-sufficient without Sam as Sam was without him.

He wasn't though. He wasn't okay and as much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to reach out for help when Sam was doing so good. It gutted him every day that Sam was so put-together without Dean's friendship, without their camaraderie, without the safety net of each other's emotional presence. Dean's confidence was crumbling while Sam was flourishing. If Sam could do it though, Dean hadn't stopped trying.

But he was getting tired. And he was still slipping, hiding, keeping everything to himself and the only person that knew all of it was the man standing before him, offering him Dean's version of a happy ending - his little brother growing old with a wife and kids chugging Viagra... with the only stipulation was that he couldn't be part of it.

It broke Dean's heart but he'd always known he'd die before seeing any of it anyway. Even if he wasn't dead, Dean couldn't see Sam welcoming him into it anyway... Not the way they'd been going. Sam's distance from Dean was helping him.

Dean pulled himself back to the moment. He needed to assess this reasonably.

"What if I refuse to take either offer?" Dean argued.

"Then Sam dies," Crowley said harshly, "and he goes to hell. Abaddon wants both of you." Crowley shifted and lowered his gaze. "I just want you."

"What if you're wrong though. What if Abaddon offers me a better deal?"

"She won't," Crowley replied instantly, "I'm so sure that I'll even allow my deal to be conditional: if she gives you a better one, our's is null and void."

Dean blinked at Crowley, his expression blunt surprise. Crowley rolled his eyes.

"I know her ilk," Crowley said with disgust, then leaned forward conspiratorially, "She's not in sales," he whispered. "You tell her what I'm offering you and she's not gonna promise Sam a mansion and a ferrari! She's gonna cut into Sam's belly and rip out his intestines!"

Dean grimaced and looked back at his brother. Crowley stretched his back and cracked his neck.

"Dean? Take the offer," he said solemnly. Somehow it even sounded kind. Dean just kept his eyes on his Sam, trying to burn the image into his memory. Sammy looked so good. He was so dedicated, driven and honest, Dean thought wistfully.

I'm so proud of him...

"You know. I haven't been blind to what's been going on between you and your brother. Sam doesn't want you anymore and you? You want the knife. Dean you should give Sam what he wants-"

"-And what do you think he wants?" Dean spat.

"To be free of you," Crowley responded sincerely. Dean flinched at the truth finally spoken aloud. "To be free of you, Dean," Crowley repeated, driving that stake in deep, "you know it as well as I do. You tricked and betrayed him, you dragged him from a peaceful death back into this life, a life he never wanted in the first place. You are to blame for Sam's memories of Kevin dying at his hands. You are at fault for everything that haunts Sam and everything that will ever haunt Sam, do you understand me?"

Dean cringed and turned away, willing to acknowledge Crowley's words but unwilling to address them.

"You never even apologized, did you?" Crowley tilted his head, now rather sadistically amused. "You and your self-righteous shit. I was in that church too, you know. I heard everything Sam confessed. All his sins were tied up in having disappointed you," Crowley said, shaking his head slowly, smiling, and added three condescending tsks. "Well look who's the disappointment now."

Dean licked his lips and braced his hand against the wall. It looked smooth but Dean was on the verge of collapse, need and guilt and desperation roiling his stomach and pricking underneath every inch of his skin. Crowley's words were sharp arrows of truthful insight that Dean had been trying to deny for too long now. Dean flashed back to his own words...

I may not think things all the way through. Okay? But what I do, I do because it's the right thing. I'd do it again.

Crowley looked up to the sky and idly watched a storm rolling in from the East. Dean didn't look at him when he spoke.

"I did what I thought was right," Dean huffed, his voice too loud; overcompensating.

"Sam doesn't want a brother that thinks what you did was right, Dean," Crowley responded immediately.

We are family, okay?

...Everything that has ever gone wrong between us has been because we're family.

Crowley watched a tear fall from Dean's silhouetted face as he leaned against the wall.

"Dean, take my offer. Sam will lose you but he hasn't really wanted you in awhile anyway, has he? All you are is judgment, violence, betrayal, chaos to him-"

"-You're trying to manipulate me just so I'll take your offer," Dean claimed, his voice, just like his resolve, weakening.

"No, Dean. You know I'm right. But yes I would very much like it if you would take my offer. Let Sam leave this miserable wayward existence you've forced onto him. Let him be, for once, and come with me to live as royalty."

Dean closed his eyes and wiped his face, trying to think of another way out. Truth was though he was too exhausted, too unstable... He needed that blade... He needed... He needed clarity.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to think of what Sam would tell him to do. Sam would probably tell him to reject the deal. Kill them both.

Dean shook his head.

"Sam... Sammy would want me to kill you both even if he died in the process," Dean admitted, his voice now shaking uncontrollably. Crowley nodded, as if he expected this from Dean.

"Yes I think he would. You have to ask yourself two things about that plan, Dean. One, is it really in you to let your brother die tonight?"

Crowley's phrasing struck a memory...

I was ready to die, Dean! -I know. But I wouldn't let you, because that's not in me.

"-Two, if we both die, someone else will rise as the new king or queen of hell... and you will still be Cain's successor. For the rest of your life you will have this curse on you. And if your brother still ends up riding with you, let's just say it'll be tempting every demon's sadistic need for poetic and historical symmetry," Crowley smiled at his own cleverness. "Dean if you thought you and your brother attracted trouble before, well..." Crowley stopped, allowing for Dean to fill in the blanks.

"Better the devil you know, Squirrel," Crowley murmured wisely.

"Take my offer and make this sacrifice. Show Moose that you're able to make a good decision for once."

...You are certainly willing to do the sacrificing as long as you're not the one being hurt...

Dean sniffed and stood up straight. He looked Crowley in the eye. His expression was angry but Crowley knew masks when he saw them.

"Will Sam be happy?"

Crowley put his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

"I can't see the future but when you blasted off to purgatory and he was alone, he went off the radar and found himself a potential Mrs. Moose, didn't he?"

Dean nodded meekly and looked at the frozen image of his little brother. Sam was so competent. Capable. A survivor. He was nothing - and would be nothing - like the mess he'd been without him that summer Dean had been in hell... Sam would be able to survive this. Sam would be able to create happiness for himself once Dean was gone...

"Dean, this isn't a deal. It's an opportunity for redemption in Sam's eyes," Crowley pressed.

"How do I know you won't renege?"

"Dean, I'm insulted. Have I ever broken a contract?"

Dean eyed the future king. He had to acknowledge that Crowley, as repulsive as the man was, had always stayed true to his word.

"I've known you and your brother for a long time now, Dean. We've fought together. We've saved each other's lives. Abaddon is going to use Sam as leverage but I know I have gained your loyalty. That is why I feel confident in offering you this option in the first place. If I didn't think I could trust you... I'd let you kill Abaddon and then just use the same tactic as she did to make you mine," Crowley purred. "But positive incentives are stronger. So I'm giving you this. Take it." Crowley looked at his watch. "We don't have much time."

Dean wiped his face free of the silent tears he'd been shedding since they'd begun this discussion, straightened his posture, set his jaw, and squared off in front of Crowley.

"Deal."

Five-forty pm was when Sam resumed his graceful stealth into the hotel and neither Dean nor Crowley told as they followed in after him. The time lapse went unnoticed.

Writer's Note: Thank you so much for reading! How was it? Please comment/review! ~ Alex