Running around the hotel room, you quickly grabbed as many items as you could, Dean's gun, knives, your duffle bag that held a first aid kit along with your weapons, anything you could think of, ignoring the fact that none of these could kill Abbadon. That item had still been wrapped and locked securely in the trunk, the less time Dean held it the better, but now you realized it had made it easy for Dean's idiotic plan.

While you were rushing around, Sam had his phone out, dialing Dean, hoping against hope that he was just taking too long getting food, that maybe he had stopped for beer. But when it went straight to voice mail, Sam turned and looked at you, a defeated and disappointed look on his face.

After Sam had gathered a few items of his own, the two of you made your way to the parking lot. Knowing time was wasting, Sam glanced around, making sure you weren't being watched, before checking cars for any that had been left unlocked. He was lucky on his third try, a nondescript late model sedan that had definitely seen better days, the paint faded. Within seconds, Sam had it running, and throwing the bag in the back you climbed in, double checking to make sure you weren't noticed.

You were lucky, no one was chasing you out of the parking lot, and Sam stepped on the gas, pushing the car as fast as its poor engine would allow. Feeling helpless, you tried calling Dean again, slamming your hand on the dash when it went straight to voice mail. Dean must have turned his phone off, you fumed, furious that Dean would do this. But, deep in your heart, you had had a feeling that Dean would have done something like this, it was one of his signature moves.

The house was a good ten minutes away, but Sam made it in 8, squealing tires as he took turns too fast, honking at people as he sped past them down the quiet neighborhood streets. You kept checking behind you, hoping you hadn't caught the notice of a police officer, but so far no blue and red lights flashed in your rear window.

Sam turned onto the final street, a short, fairly secluded street that only included 3 large, Victorian style houses. The Impala was parked down the street from the only one that needed repair, it's shingles falling, and the paint peeling from the front porch. Sam slammed to a stop behind the Impala, and the two of you climbed out, dissapointed to see it empty.

Opening your bag, you pulled out your gun and some knives, handing Sam the Demon killing one. Sam already had his gun tucked into the back of his pants, and was ready to go. The two of you crept up to the house, trying to stay under the cover of the large trees lining the sidewalk. There were overgrown bushes surrounding the house, and you and Sam used it as coverage, coming up on the side of the house. the windows were tall, higher than your point of view, so Sam was the only one able to glance inside.

"Damn it." He whispered, keeping his head to the side so he wasn't spotted.

"What?" You asked, fearing the worst.

Sam turned his gaze from the window, and guided you to a secluded corner, away from the prying eyes that could be anywhere.

"He's in there." Sam started. "And he's not alone. Abaddon is in there, along with Crowley.

"Crowley? What the hell is he doing there?" You asked, shocked.

Sam shrugged. "I have no idea, but it seems like he can't move, he's stuck in a chair."

You thought abut it a moment, before you understood. "He's there to help Dean. He wants her dead just as much as the rest of us!"

Agreeing, you and Sam quickly hatched a plan, deciding the best course of action would be coming in from the back and trying to sneak up and help Dean as much as possible.

"Stay behind me." Sam warned. "Abbadon will go for anything she considers Dean's weakness, and you are definitely it. Also, if he does kill her, we have no idea how he's going to react. I just need you to stay safe."

Knowing Sam just had everyone's best interest at heart, you agreed, even though you wanted to be in the thick of everything. Making sure the coast was clear, the two of you moved to the back of the house, encountering only one Demon, who Sam quickly took care of with his demon knife.

Opening the back door, you noticed the kitchen was empty, and you quietly crept down the hallway, stopping outside the door, trying to gauge what was going on in the room.

You heard Crowley complaining from his chair, something about a lamp that attacked him. Abbadon was ignoring him, laughing and from the sounds of it, toying with Dean. Dean was silent, and you were worried, fretting that he was trapped, or hurt.

"Sam, what's happening?" You whispered as quietly as you could, but it was a mistake. As a Knight of Hell, Abbadon had amazing hearing, and she heard your voice.

Knowing you were already screwed, the two of you burst into the room, guns held high as you took in the situation. Crowley was still in his chair, a gash on his forehead from being attacked by the flying lamp. Abaddon was in the middle of the room, her red hair flowing behind her, wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket, her lipstick a bright red as she laughed at Dean, her hand held high and twisted.

Dean was pressed against the wall, presumably from Abbadon's powers, the first blade laying on the floor. He was bruised and bloody, but otherwise unharmed.

Abbadon looked at you and Sam, and with a sinking heart you realized you had forgotten Sam's orders, and you were currently standing beside him, not behind like he had requested.

"Well who do we have here?" She purred, her attention on you, and not on the fact that Dean was somehow summoning the blade to him, with only moving his finger.

You gasped in shock, and Abbadon turned to see what had garnered your attention. "But how?" She asked, shocked. She watched as Dean fought her power, the first blade wiggling on the floor before flying to Dean's hand.

Her mouth wide open, Abbadon could do nothing but watch as Dean took one hard step, then another fighting against her control. She tightened her hand, but it didn't stop him, and you stood in shock as he strode over to her, plunging the blade into her stomach, hard enough to lift her off the floor. She screamed, loud enough that you covered your ears, before a bright orange light flashed out of her, almost blinding you in the process. She then went limp on the blade, and Dean let her fall to the floor, before pulling the blade out.

Before you and Sam could congratulate Dean on finishing the job, he raised the fist grasping the blade, smashing it down on her face. Again and again he beat her with the handle of the blade, hard enough that blood flew everywhere, and all you could do was stand there, speechless as he beat her body to a bloody pulp.