Crowley strode, with a purpose in his quick steps, through the dark warehouse, a lower class demon, Crowley didn't bother to ask her name, had informed the king of crossroads that they had captured a Winchester. Crowley smirked, after all this 'cat-and-mouse' all it took was a young foolish demon to bring down the Winchesters?
Ha! "The mighty Winchester brothers captured by a demon of the same worth as a house cat!" Crowley thought, smirk growing as he approached the room where the demon told him the Winchester would be.
"Well hello moose, what a surprise!"
The younger Winchester, huddled as small as possible in he metal chair the demons handcuffed him to, didn't answer, just curled i to himself more if humanly possible.
Crowley's smirk faded, where was the usual Winchester bravo? He wondered, 'perhaps he realized how ineffective it is'.
Crowley gestured over his shoulder, the demons that were waiting at the door entered the room, one of them, a short black haired male, moved forward and unlocked Sam's cuffs. Still, Sam didn't move, not even to rub his obviously sore wrists, he just drew his arms in, curling up in the metal chair. Crowley frowned, why didn't he fight back? Or try to escape?
"A tad bit quiet today, are we Sammy?"
Crowley said, stepping closer to Sam and crouching by the chair. Crowley's frown grew as he watched Sam's face, he was muttering under his breath, his eyes red and watery as though he'd been crying for hours.
Crowley reached out and slapped Sam's face, trying to snap him out of his trance like state.
Sam cried out in pain and terror, jumping up and racing to the dirty corner of the room, whimpering and beginning to rock back and forth. Crowley's eyes widened, Sam was acting strangely similarly to the few people Crowley had seen at a psych ward, the demon stood, walking slowly towards the scared man.
Sam started sobbing and covered his face with his arms, curled in a ball against the cold concrete wall.
Sams mutterings grew louder as Crowley approached, he chanted "nonononono" and in a language Crowley determined to be Latin
"Samuel quia abominatio est malum Samuel, Samuel labe infecta sit, nemo, nihil, nullus, stop, lucifer".
Crowley almost gasped, Lucifer?! As in 'fallen archangel Lucifer?!
"Moose?"
Crowley questioned with a slight hesitation. Sams sobbing hitched, he pulled his hands apart, letting himself peek at whoever was speaking.
"D-de'n?"
Sam asked softly, sniffling as he blinked at the blurry shape above his head.
"It's not your squirrelly brother, what's wrong with you moose?"
Crowley once again crouched down by Sam.
"I-I-I…wan' de'n….please d-don't h-h-hurt me!"
Sam whimpered.
Crowley's eyebrows shot up, sure, he and the Winchester never got along and, quite frankly, hated each other, but Crowley prided himself in being a quite, in a way, respectable demon, he never killed if they didn't deserve it, and didn't agree with a lot of demon 'stereotypes'. It was funny, really, a world where angels were evil and demons were helpful.
"Relax moose, I'm not gonna hurt you, but what in the name of hell happened to you?"
At the word Hell Sam curled even further into himself, Crowley heard a soft dean whispered.
"Ah bollocks!"
Crowley sighed, standing up and walking to his servant waiting by the door.
"Get me squirrel on the phone!"
"S-sir?"
The demon squeaked.
Crowley rolled his eyes, honestly, are they so daft?.
"Dean Winchester! Get me Dean Winchester on the phone! Now!"
Crowley growled, shoving the lower class demon out the doorway. The demon squeaked again then ran out to find a phone.
Crowley sighed again, this was not what he was expecting when the demons told him they had Sam Winchester, he'd thought he would intimidate, make a few threats (to keep up his image as scary king of hell), maybe get some info and then let Sam 'escape', certainly not deal with a obviously traumatized, bloody Winchester.
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Ah hell! Where's a Winchester when you need one! All up in ya business till you need them then poof! Right off the bloody face of the bloody earth!"
Crowley growled as he hung up for what seemed like the thousandth time, he'd called Dean Winchester so many times he practically memorized the elder Winchester's number.
"Mr. C-Crowley?"
Crowley whirled around, standing in the doorway of his lush office was the same demon who was supposed to be watching the younger Winchester brother.
"
What do you want?!"
"W-Winchester is f-freaking out, d-do you want me t-to knock h-him out sir?"
The younger demon stammered, looking downright terrified to be talking with the king of hell himself.
"
What? No! I'll take care of it myself, go deal with whatever you demons have to do!"
Crowley shouted as he strode out of his office.
The closer he got to the room he was holding Sam the louder the noises got, sobbing with the occasional cry of "dean", and a strange rhythmic dull bang of one object hitting another.
Crowley opened the large iron door and stepped into the cell of Sam Winchester.
Said Winchester was sitting against the wall, his face finally uncovered, smashing his head into the concrete wall, tears streaming down his pale gaunt face, his mouth working in a consistent stream of whimpers.
Crowley quickly walked over, putting his hand between Sam's head and the cold wall, he felt the sticky warm texture of blood smearing the back of Sam's head.
"What on earth are you doing? Trying to break your head more then it obviously already is?"
Suddenly Sam jumped and before Crowley could register his movements, the youngest Winchester had his arms wrapped around the demon's neck and his face the crook of his neck.
"Ple'se, ple'se d-d-don't leave! ….L-l-l…uc'fer n-nnno…"
Sam whispered into Crowley's neck as he sobbed.
Crowley was shocked, what in bloody hell happened to him? Sam whimpered, clinging even harder to Crowley, Crowley's arms hovered above Sam's back, it had been years, centuries even, since he had hugged or been hugged.
Eventually he wrapped his arms hesitantly around then young Winchester. Sam relaxed slightly, seemingly melting into the hug.
"Sam? What happened to you moose?"
Crowley questioned, still awkwardly hugging the Winchester.
"D-d-d'n s-said….h-h-h-hit m'head"
Sam nestled closer to Crowley, making a happy little noise in his throat.
"You hit your head?"
Crowley sighed as he got no response, judging by how relaxed Sam was, the young man was most likely asleep.
"Aw hell,"
Crowley scooted forward moving Sam slightly so Crowley was against the wall with Sam sitting beside him, after all the king of Hell hugging a Winchester? That's absurd!
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Sam moaned, shifting his head from where it rested on Crowley's shoulder, he yawned, opening bleary eyes to peer at the demon.
"D-d-de'n?
"For the last time, I'm not your brother moose!"
Crowley exclaimed, just how hard did Sam hit his head?
Sams eyes grew wide at Crowleys outburst, he scooted minutely away, putting around an inch of space between him and the demon.
Crowley sighed, he really didn't want a repeat of earlier, it would do no one any good if moose freaked out.
"I'm not your brother Sam , but I'll call him if you tell me what happened, okay?"
Sam nodded his head, eager for a chance to talk to his brother.
Alright. let's start, how did you hit your head?"
Crowley questioned.
"'Pala h-h-hit a t-t-t-t'ee. H-hu't m'head."
Sam stuttered out, painfully slow, taking almost five minutes for the few words.
"Your car crashed? Okay, now we're getting somewhere. What happened after you hit the tree moose?"
"sa-said I was 'n a c-c-c-coma. B-bra'n d-d-d-d-damage
" Sam sighed, exhausted just by the short conversation, he leaned against Crowley, resting his head against his shoulder.
'Brain damage?!' Sure, Crowley knew something was wrong with the youngest Winchester, but something as serious as brain damage!
"Okay… where's squirrel?
" As far as Crowley knew the elder Winchester had always been protective, one might say over-protective, when it came to his little brother, and Crowley couldn't imagine Dean abandoning his younger, brain damaged, little brother.
"S-s-s-sq-q-'irell?" Sam asked, confused, "w-w-wha'?"
"Your brother Sam, where's dean?"
Crowley looked down at Sams head resting against his shoulder,he looked at the young mans face, he looked so much more innocent then the last time Crowley had seen him, suddenly Crowley realized something, he was the one bloody king of hell! All he had to do was simply look at Sams head, then he would know everything and he would see how serious the damage is.
"Okay, Sam I'm just gonna take a peak at your head alright? It might feel a little strange but shouldn't hurt, okay moose?"
Crowley shifted slightly,moving so he had a clear view of Sam but the younger man was still leaning against him.
"M-m-m'ka-a-ay…"
Sam whispered, he closed his eyes as Crowley held his right hand above sams forehead.
Crowley gasped as he saw Sams mind and soul from the inside, he saw that Sams brain function and comprehension was the same as a toddler, Sam's speech was also badly affected, but what was worse was Sams memories, twisted and dark, full of blood and pain, it was moments like these that Crowley hated he's kind, moments when he felt almost human, when he saw the horrors bestowed upon young innocent humans.
But the thing that took the cake was a single fuzzy memory, of a hard looking man, a doctor judging by the clothes, telling Sam that his brother died, that he was impaled through the lungs by a tree branch, that by the time the ambulance got there they couldn't help him.
Crowley saw that Sam didn't understand what that meant, in Sam's head Dean was still coming back, he also saw Sam's need for comfort and touch, nothing sexual or romantic about it, just an innocent want for someone to love him. Crowley felt his supposedly non existent heart ache for the young Winchester.
Crowley vowed to remove the doctors, who had 'helped' sam, from they're jobs at the very least.
The doctor had been cruel, he didn't get Sam the help he needed to fully be able to speak or understand speech, he was rough when treating Sam and his other patients, Crowley guessed it was because the man figured the people he treated would never recover and just didn't care.
Crowley saw the horrors sam faced every night in the forms of nightmares, nightmares that Sams now innocent mind couldn't understand and was terrified of.
Crowley looked down at sam, his eyes were still closed and he was leaning heavily against Crowley, the demon could tell the younger man was exhausted.
"Sam? You wanna get off the floor? Maybe go
Find a bed?"
Crowley questioned gently, he may be a demon but, well, Sam had always been pretty gentle and nice but now, now he had the sweet innocence of a child, he reminded Crowley of his own son, the very son Crowley had sold his soul to save.
Sam blinked owlishly at Crowley, nodded then closed his eyes once again.
Crowley sighed, he moved swiftly, using his inhuman strength to pull both him and Sam up at the same time. Crowley grunted as Sam fell heavily against his side, remembering the brain damage he figured Sam must not have full physical abilities either.
"Okay moose, this might feel strange, it'll be over quick though, okay?"
Crowley shifted Sam a little to the left so Crowley could hold his arm underneath sams armpit to support him better.
"Ok'y"
Sam agreed, he scooted his uncooperative legs closer to Crowley, after getting out of hell Sam was always cold, and right now he was freezing, wearing only threadbare jeans and a grey t-shirt didn't offer much protection from the coldness off October, especially if you had been on concrete in an unheated warehouse.
Crowley snapped his fingers, teleporting him and Sam so Crowleys large flamboyant mansion in the blink of an eye.