"Crowley, I know you can here me." Sam called into the empty room. "You might as well come, i have everything I need to summon you right here and now." He waited for a second before starting the spell.
"No need to do that moose. I'm here." Crowley said as he stepped out of the dark corner of the room.
"I need your assistance, Crowley." Sam replied matter of factly, eyeing the king of hell.
"With what, and where's the squirrel?" He asked looking around the room. "Are he and the angel up in his room doing the dead?"
Upon Crowley's statement Sam looked away.
"Ohhh, jealous Sammy boy? Trouble in paradise? Heaven steal your brother?" Crowley continued on with the torment as Sam refused to look him in the eyes. He couldn't stand the thought of feeling any of those ways. Dean was happy, and he loved Cas, so Sam was happy as well. This was all Sam ever wanted for Dean, to stop worrying about him so much and find his own happiness.
Sam tuned back in to hear Crowley say, "You want me to get rid of him?"
Sam lunged at the man in the room, crowley was on the ground Sam leaning over him within seconds of saying those words.
"Don't you ever say that again," Sam seethed.
"Did I push the wrong button Moose?"
"Have you heard anything about Castiel?" Sam asked standing and regaining his composure.
"What do you mean Sam? What could I possibly hear about Castiel? Last time I checked he was in heave- I take that back, I heard he'd disappeared mid-mission and didn't return for a while. The other angels were not happy about that. Why? Is he hurt?"
"Dean got a box, of Cas's feathers. There was blood all over them and he was pretty shaken up."
"Oh, I hadn't heard that part. I'll look around okay? We don't need an even more unstable Dean Winchester running around killing everything that looks at him in the wrong way."
Sam tried to laugh but couldn't. He had to go check on Dean, he knew his brother was in self destruction mode. "Hey Crowley?"
"Moose," Crowley replied slowly watching Sam closely.
"One more thing, spread word that if Dean tries to make a deal, or call upon a demon, to not answer."
"Okay, moose. Take care of the squirrel, we don't need heaven raining upon us if he isn't around to keep them off us."
Sam smiled slightly before turning on his heels and jogging up the steps, he tried just ripping the door open but was stopped when the door didn't budge. He laughed quietly to himself at the realization that he'd locked the door.
He raced down the hall to Dean's room. The door was now closed and he heard screaming and a loud commotion just on the other side of the thin wooden door.
He knocked and tried to open the door but something was jammed up against the door keeping it closed.
"Dean, come on let me in," Sam called loud enough to be heard, but soft enough to not spook his heartbroken elder brother.
"No," Dean said sternly. "Go, away Sam." His short comment was followed by the sound of glass shattering as it hit the door and an ear-splitting scream.
Sam instantly knew it was Dean screaming, and that he had to get in there as soon as possible. He started banging on the door, trying to loosen whatever it was that was barricading the door shut.
He had no luck until he kicked as hard as he could, and felt his foot pass through the jagged wood, of the broken door. He scrambled as fast as he could to get the door open.
Once open, Sam stood in the doorway shocked. Dean's room was a disaster, everything was thrown everywhere, the only things still in place where his dresser, minus the drawers and the box of bad feathers. The feather of Castiel's, which Sam learned must have been clean for it was not in the box, was placed sweetly and safely on top of Dean's partially destroyed dresser.
Sam eyed the room suspiciously, glass was broken and lying all over the floor in shards of all sizes. That's when he noticed one thing was missing, Dean.
"Dean?" Where are you man?" he turned and found Dean huddles in the closet, like he used to do when their father came home drunk and tried to take it out on one of the boys. He'd grab Sam and they'd hide in the closet all night. As Dean got older and Sam started to pick fight with their father more and more Dean would push Sam in the closet and go face John. Letting himself take the beating instead of his little brother whom it was his job to protect.
At the thought of the all the beatings Dean got because of Sam Dean's scarred, bruised, and bloody body flashed in Sam's head. How the next morning when John left Sam would hear Dean cursing in the bathroom as he cleaned his wounds and covered his bruises. He never told Sam, but Sam when that not all the scars on his brother's body was from hunting.
Sam walked swiftly over the the closet and bent down, he could see now how puffy and red Dean's face was from hours of crying. He didn't ask permission, he just scooped his elder brother into his arms and carried him to the bed, that was on all fours, but now across the room from its original spot.
While setting his brother down he heard the sharp intake of breath from Dean. He realized his hands and feet were bloody and gory. He went and quickly retrieved the first-aid kit and fixed his brothers wounds. Neither boys said it but they both knew this was compensation for all the time Dean had to do this on his own growing up.
That's when they heard it. The thunk against the wall in the hallways, and a quiet moan.
The brothers looked at each other quizzically before Sam stood to confront the intruder.