Hey guys, so sorry it took me so long to finish the next installment of this, but I think this one is my personal favorite, and I hope you enjoy it too!

Recap: After a door in Pandemonium was opened and the ancient evil creatures, the Shedim were set loose, the Winchesters were certain someone was out to get them, especially Sam who hardly made it out of the Shedim attack alive. Turns out, their fears were correct and it was the last living Prince of Hell, Asmodeus. He invaded Hell and took the Winchesters and company captive, set to make himself the new ruler, but Sam, Dean, Cas, and the loyal demons prevailed and were able to defeat Asmodeus temporarily by using the Scythe of Kronos dipped in Shedim poison, putting him out of commission for long enough to give them time to prepare, researching, collecting weapons and getting ready for the next battle. But Asmodeus is not planning on playing fair, and he's willing to strike, even when he's still mostly out of commission...

Abandon All Hope

A Supernatural Fanfic

Chapter One

"Happy birthday, Sammy."

Sam smiled indulgently and ducked his head, raising his glass at Dean's insistence and the three of them clashed their glasses together before taking a drink.

"God, I love unlimited funds," Dean said as he waved to a waitress, raising his now empty glass.

Sam rolled his eyes, but he had to admit, it was pretty nice staying in a five-star hotel.

The fact that it was in Vegas was moot. They'd needed a vacation for a long time and they were finally getting one.

After everything that had happened with Asmodeus invading Hell and taking over for a brief period until Sam took his throne back, there'd been a lot to do. Putting their kingdom back together yet again. With everything else he'd had to think about, Sam had almost forgotten it was almost his birthday, but a week ago Dean had decided that they were going to celebrate it, and instantly planned a trip to Vegas.

To be fair, Sam wasn't as thrilled as he could be with the destination spot, but this was just as much for Dean as it was for him. They'd all taken some hard hits in the last few months, and Dean ending up on a rack in Hell again, however briefly, had not helped. His brother had been waking up from the kind of nightmares he hadn't had for years, and Sam was glad they were getting a chance to get out of there for a while. And a place like Vegas with the gambling, and the showgirls, could even keep Dean distracted from his worse memories.

And really, it had been a long time since Sam had just let himself relax too. As Dean had told him when he came up with the idea, it wouldn't kill him to have a little fun. And ruling Hell had its perks. Unlimited funds being one of them. Crowley had set them up with no-max credit cards, which they still hadn't gotten the hang of using when they went on hunts. But they'd definitely put them to good use in Vegas already, what with the hotel and the steak dinner and drinks.

Lots of drinks.

Even more drinks were deposited on the table in front of them by a provocatively clad waitress who gave Dean a very pointed once-over. Sam turned to Cas and they both rolled their eyes.

Dean caught their look as their waitress walked away. "Oh, come on, live a little. It's your birthday, Sammy! And how long has it been since you've gotten any?" He smirked. "I mean, being king has to come with some perks."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, and every woman is scrambling to sleep with the King of Hell who they don't even know exists."

"Kiddo, with this credit card, you can be whoever you friggin' want," Dean told him with a wink. "King of Hell, Brad Pitt, playboy millionaire, take your pick. At the end of the day, it's all the same here." He picked up his glass and took a long swig. "Just remember, we're here to have fun." He emphasized the last word, pointedly looking between Sam and Cas.

"I'm not entirely sure this denotes my idea of fun," Cas admitted.

Sam laughed and clapped the angel on the shoulder, already feeling a little drunk. "It will be okay, Cas. And Dean's right. It has been way too long since we've had fun."

"Tonight, we're not the rulers of Hell, we're just three dudes looking for a good time," Dean said, reaching across the table to grip both their shoulders. "And later, I'm teaching Cas how to play blackjack."

Cas' protests were cut short by the arrival of several of the waitresses, carrying a huge cupcake between them with sparklers burning on it, giggling.

"Oh, here comes your surprise," Dean said with a grin at Sam.

"Oh god…Dean…" Sam covered his face in embarrassment as Dean laughed and the girls popped party poppers, making confetti fly all over the place as they set the cake in front of Sam, wishing him happy birthday.

"If you ask nice, maybe they'll feed it to you," Dean said and Sam kicked him under the table, but was smiling all the same.

This was normal. That was what this was really about. It was about the three of them getting to be normal for a night. Getting drunk, gambling with Hell's nearly endless coffers, and, in Dean's case, getting laid. They could be regular stupid humans for a couple days, then go back to their duties, maybe not without regrets, but at least none that held any real weight or world-ending consequences.

Sam flushed as one of the girls took a fork at Dean's comment and giggled as she raised a bite of cake to Sam's mouth. He ate it awkwardly as Dean wolf-whistled and Cas shook his head. Sam grabbed his drink and downed it, feeling the warmth of the alcohol blanketing his embarrassment.

He picked up his fresh glass, smiled, and held it up. Dean, and even Cas, raised theirs as well in a second toast.

The night was young, and it was theirs. No politics or looming rebellions were taking their attention that night.

Sam decided he was going to celebrate his birthday and enjoy it.

"No, no more!" Sam protested as Dean set down his empty glass. "Dude, you'll be too drunk to play blackjack."

"Fine, fine," Dean said, and waved for the bill, slipping a generous tip into the waitress's hand and probably his room number too. Sam stood and felt the liquor going to his head. It had been a long time since he'd gotten drunk, and he wasn't used to it anymore.

"Sam, are you okay?" Cas asked him with concern as he set a hand on the back of his chair to steady himself.

"Yeah, just too many drinks," Sam said, pressing a hand to his forehead. "Why don't you guys go to the casino? I'll catch up with you in a minute, I'm gonna go out to the courtyard for some fresh air."

"Hey, no skipping out on us, Sammy," Dean said, wagging a finger at him.

"I'm not skipping out, promise," Sam huffed. "Ten minutes."

Dean huffed back, but nodded. He slung his arm around Cas' shoulders and led the angel toward the casino. "Alright. But I will come looking for you if you try to hide."

Sam smirked and waved them away as he headed for the doors that led out to the large courtyard behind the hotel.

No one was out there, obviously finding better things to do with their time, and it was peaceful, none of the noise that was slightly discombobulating in the restaurant.

Sam breathed deeply, and tipped his head back to look up at the stars, the cool night air already helping clear the drunken fug from his brain. He thought his demonic powers might have something to do with that too. Dean was convinced that he could drink more now before he got drunk. Honestly, Sam wouldn't mind spending the rest of the night out here in the peace and quiet, but Dean would make good on his threat to find him. Until then, he planned to make the most of a short breather.

Glancing over his shoulder to make sure Dean wasn't lurking, Sam pulled his phone from his pocket. He dialed and listened as the call went through.

"Your Majesty? I thought you were instilling a no calling rule. Is something the matter?"

"Don't worry, Wheatly," Sam huffed a laugh at hearing his steward's slightly reprimanding tone. Obviously, Dean had gotten to him. "Just checking in. Making sure everything is going okay there."

"You know I have everything under control, my lord," Wheatly assured him. "You're not supposed to be thinking about Hell right now."

"Okay, fine, I get the message," Sam laughed. "Everything's good."

"Indeed, my lord. Oh, and happy birthday."

"Thanks, Wheatly," Sam smiled. "I guess I better go back to celebrating before Dean finds me."

"That would probably be wise," Wheatly said, and ended the call.

Sam huffed a laugh and tucked his phone back in his pocket, turning it off. He turned to go back to the casino when he felt a demonic presence.

If he hadn't been drunk, he probably would have recognized it sooner. As it was, it was too late by the time he turned around.

He was met with a demon holding a gun.

Sam tried to summon his powers, but they were sluggish, and by then the demon had already pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out in the cool, clear night.

"I promise you, Cas, you'll be great at blackjack," Dean was saying as he and the angel entered the casino and he looked around at all the different tables and games going. The room was filled with cries of elation and desperation. He breathed in deep, already feeling his alcohol intake dissipating, and leaned in close to Cas to be heard over the din.

"I don't know, Dean."

"Come on! We're here to have fun! And if you don't like blackjack, you could always try your hand at poker. I bet you'd make a killing—you always beat Bobby and he's the best player I know."

Cas rolled his eyes slightly, but didn't protest anymore. "Fine. I suppose I'll have to have something to do while you make advances on literally every woman here."

Dean ignored the obvious jab and grinned. "That's the spirit! Look, there's a table over there that doesn't seem to have that many people. Come on."

Cas reluctantly allowed Dean to steer him over to the table where a dealer was placing cards out across the green velvet top.

"Why don't you watch this for a couple minutes, see how it's done. I've gotta hit the head," Dean grinned and clapped the angel on the shoulder. "Keep an eye out for Sammy too, would ya?"

Cas nodded and Dean glanced around to find the nearest restroom. After emptying his bladder, he turned to the sinks and washed his hands, before leaning over to splash water on his face to wake himself up a little. He didn't know if he was getting rusty or just old, but he didn't want to admit to Sam or Cas how tired he was after a days' drive and probably too many drinks. He was kind of really looking forward to sleeping in a huge, comfy bed that night in his own room. Secretly, he thought that he might just skip a prospective conquest until tomorrow. It would only be embarrassing to fall asleep the minute he laid down in bed. Sam and Cas could think what they wanted when he got up late the next day.

As he was bent with his face near the sink, the door to the bathroom opened and he instantly felt a prickle on the back of his neck he that he always got when he sensed a demonic presence where it shouldn't be. And there were several.

He straightened slowly, eyes flicking to black, as two demons advanced on him, equipped with angel blades.

Dean reached into his coat and pulled out the demon killing knife that he had taken with him because of instinct and years of hunter training drilled into him. He was glad he had now.

"Even a Knight of Hell is no match for three of us, especially drunk," said a third demon who had hung back, sniffing with a look of derision.

Dean smirked and flipped his blade around, holding it backwards with the blade against his wrist in a knife-fighter's style. "Try me, bitches," he growled before the two demons simply rushed him and lashed out with their blades.

Dean ducked under one blow, slashing with his knife and catching that demon across the ribs, as he kicked the other backwards into the urinals.

The wounded demon staggered backwards, eyes black with fury, and poised to attack again.

Dean caught sight of the other demon in the mirror and whipped around, stabbing him in the shoulder.

The demon cried out and Dean kicked the blade from his hand, as the first demon grabbed him from behind, an arm around his neck.

Dean grabbed the demon's wrist before he could stab him, the angel blade halting just an inch away from his chest. He grunted, struggling to kick out at the other demon who had grabbed his blade again, shoving his boot into his assailant's stomach.

Seeming to see Dean wasn't going down easy, the third demon joined the fray and Dean frantically extricated himself, throwing the demon previously choking him over his hip, just in time for the third demon to grab him by the back of his coat and throw him into the sinks.

Dean flew backwards and slammed into the mirror, feeling it shatter against his shoulder and the back of his head. His breath was knocked out of him as he crumpled onto the sinks and then rolled to the floor, the knife jarring from his hand as he struck his elbow.

Before he could recover it, the demon had him by the front of his coat, hauling him upright and slamming him back against the sinks again, bruising the small of Dean's back. He grunted as he felt shards from the mirror digging into his flesh.

"The Winchester reign is at an end," the demon sneered. "Asmodeus wants you to know that."

"Asmodeus can go to Hell," Dean said. "I'll make sure he has a welcoming party."

A knife swung toward Dean and he made to duck to one side as the door to the restroom slammed open, accompanied by the furious light of Cas' battle-heightened grace.

"Dean!" he yelled and threw his blade at the demon about to stab Dean. The blade took him through the throat, and the demon slid to the ground. Dean was already moving, retrieving Cas' blade, and tossing it underhand to the angel in the same movement as he bent to retrieve his own.

It took only another second for the two of them to take out the two remaining demons.

Dean panted, reaching up with a wince to pull a shard of mirror from his shoulder before he grabbed a paper towel and cleaned his blade.

"What the hell was this?" he muttered.

"I have no idea. I felt the demonic presence and came as quickly as I could," Cas said worriedly, bending to search through one of the demons' coats, but coming up with nothing. He straightened. "Are you all right?"

Dean nodded, though his head ached. It would be fine in a couple hours though. He was already pulling his phone out. "They said to send their regards to Asmodeus. I guess he's on the playing field again."

"You think this was a hit?" Cas asked worriedly.

"Yeah." Dean speed dialed Wheatly.

"Now you're calling, Master Winchester?" the Steward of Hell asked, sounding amused.

"Can it, Jeeves, we've got a problem. I need you to send a team to clean up some bodies like yesterday."

Wheatly's voice instantly turned serious. "Are you all right, Master Winchester? Do you need more men?"

"No, not yet, we just need to figure out what's going on." He ended the call before Wheatly could ask any more questions, knowing the steward would do as he asked. "We need to find Sam. Now."

They both rushed out of the restroom as Dean grabbed an OUT OF ORDER sign from a janitor's cart nearby and clapped it on the door. Hopefully no one would get there before his men came to clean it up.

They ran through the casino, nearly knocking over a group of showgirls with trays, who gave them dirty looks, but they didn't stop, not even bothering to think that Dean still had blood on his clothes and the back of his head.

"Where the hell is he?" Dean muttered as they made it back into the restaurant. He grabbed his phone and dialed Sam's number, counting rings until the voicemail picked up.

Cas suddenly grabbed his arm. "Dean, he said he was going to step out into the courtyard for some fresh air."

Heart in his throat, Dean and Cas raced through the busy restaurant to the doors that led outside.

He threw the doors open and the second he and Cas stepped out, the sound of a gunshot rang through the night air.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, spinning around and racing in the direction the shot had come from.

The image that presented itself made his heart stop. A figure dressed in dark clothes stood there with a gun still pointed in front of him, and Sam…

Sam was on the ground, a dark puddle surrounding him.

"No. NO!" Dean screamed.

The dark figure, a demon, Dean could tell now, turned, and pointed the gun at him.

"Dean!"

Cas slammed Dean to the ground as a second gunshot rang out and whizzed off into the night. Dean roared and surged to his feet again as the figure began to run. He grabbed his blade and threw it at the retreating figure. It caught the demon between the shoulder blades and he fell with a cry.

Dean was running to Sam's fallen form then, collapsing and skidding so violently on the cobblestones that he tore the knee of his jeans, feeling the sharp pain that was nothing compared to the horror squeezing his insides.

"Sam. Sammy! Oh god, come on…"

He pressed a hand against the hole in Sam's chest, leaking precious blood. There was already so much of it…it was seeping into Dean's jeans, mixing with his own blood from his scraped knees.

Dean ripped his jacket off and pressed it to Sam's chest, his other hand falling to Sam's cheek, stroking his hair back, before slapping his cheek gently.

"Sammy, come on, don't do this. You can't do this to me. Please." He twisted frantically, calling over his shoulder, "Cas!"

The angel appeared in a second, rushing to the pair and kneeling on Sam's other side, throwing down Dean's blade and the gun he had taken off the demon's body. His hands went to Sam's chest and forehead, closing his eyes.

Dean watched Sam's face, waiting for some movement, some flicker to let him know his brother was still in there, because he couldn't be...he just couldn't. Not now, not after everything.

"Dean."

Cas' voice was strangled and Dean finally tore his eyes away from his little brother's face to look at his friend. The angel was pale and he swallowed hard. Dean felt his insides squeeze painfully hard.

"No," he gritted out. "Don't say that to me, Cas. Do not say that!"

Pain crossed Cas' features as he reached out and gripped Dean's shoulders. "He…he's gone, Dean," he whispered.

"Don't say that!" Dean snarled, shoving Cas off of him so violently the angel sat down hard on the cobbles. Dean hauled his brother across his knees, shaking him. "Sammy! Don't you dare, little brother, you come back! You hear me? You come back! Dammit!"

He clutched Sam's limp body to him and Cas returned, gripping his shoulder tightly, his head bowed in shared grief. Not saying anything, because what the hell could he say about this?

Tears slid down Dean's cheeks mingling with Sam's blood, but he took a shaky breath and looked up, eyes flicking to black.

"I swear, I'm gonna kill Asmodeus for this," he gritted out. "That son of a bitch's days are numbered."

So, you guys trust me, right?