It was John's turn for lookout. The moonlight revealed very little as far as what horrors awaited them in the morning. Wind screamed as it shook up the dust from debris of homes that had been destroyed for years.

SNAP!

John whipped his neck hard to the right, but saw nothing. Once again, his eyes deceived him.

"It's midnight."

John slammed the makeshift door shut, waking everyone up.

"Dude, what the hell?" Dean slowly sat up.

Sam was gripping his journal tight against his chest while Sherlock moaned in annoyance.

"He's here." John whispered.

"C'mon out, boys! Don't be shy!"

Their door was thrown far off, its landing a meet echo. Everyone looked at each other. Sherlock went first.

"Oh, did I wake you?" The Prince said as if to a child. "Daddy is so sorry."

"No, your majesty." Sherlock bowed. John and Dean emerged from the hole.

"Please, Sherlock, call me Jim. I thought we were a family."

"Cut the crap, Moriarty. What do you want?" Dean spat.

"Looks like somebody needs an attitude adjustment." Jim smiled at Sam. "I'm so sorry about all of this, Sammy. It wasn't supposed to end like this."

"Leave him alone, you son of a bitch." Dean pushed Sam behind him.

Jim winked at Sam, who began hissing in pain. He reached up to his head, rubbing it.

"Sh-sherlock..."

"Sam!" Sherlock grabbed the boy's shoulders and turned him directly in front of himself.

"There's a...monster..."

"Oooo...how scary!" Jim feigned.

"Shut-up!" Dean and John yelled in unison.

"What does it look like?"

"It's...just so ordinary, but, there's a light, and-"

Sherlock took the journal from Sam's shaky hand and wrote down every word.

"How interesting..." Jim whispered.

"What did that monster do to him?" Dean demanded.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" Jim motioned for Azazel, and he came forward out of the shadows.

"Are we ready to begin?" The yellow-eyed demon asked. Sherlock his the journal on his person.

"Would you mind doing the honors?"

"Of course, my Prince." And he disappeared.

"Sam?!" Dean called for his brother, who was not there. "Where is he?!"

"Your brother has been given an opportunity. He was chosen by our lord of darkness to-"

"I don't care! Bring him back now!"

Jim just scoffed. "Uh, no. Ha!" He laughed in Dean's face, causing the teen to jump back. "Now you will make a memorial to him under my instruction precisely starting immediately! Get rid of all of this shit so construction can begin."

"That would take weeks, maybe months with just the three of us." John said.

"Then I suggest you get started. And if you are thinking about running away..." He whistled, and growling could be heard. "Well, for Sam's sake, follow my orders, or I'll snap his little neck." Snapping his fingers, a contract appeared along with a knife. "Do we have a deal?"

John looked at Sherlock. Dean stepped up without hesitation. "I swear if you hurt him-"

"I've kept him alive this long, haven't I?" Jim pulled a knife. "Sign. With your blood. You belong to me now."

Dean hesitantly took the knife and cut his palm. It stung and he hissed in pain. He handed the knife to John, who did the same. Dean wet his finger with his own blood and signed his name. Sherlock stared at the knife then at Jim.

"You want to help baby brother?" Jim held up the contract. Sherlock stared at John's and Dean's names painted on the scroll.

"I don't know what you're up to, but mark my words, this will end with your blood shed at my feet."

"I'd like to see you try, my dear." Jim smiled, watching Sherlock's bony finger sign the contract.

"Now that the boring paperwork is done..." A demon appeared, and the earth opened up in an explosion to form a huge crevice. The dust and the wind threw Sherlock, John, and Dean onto the ground. "Now, do be careful not to fall in. You are like newly bought property so I can't lose you on day one. Throw everything into the pit. Every brick, every tree, every stone. I want this land spotless."

"What are we building, exactly?" John asked curiously as he got up, dust covering him from head to toe.

"This." Jim pulled out an old photo. "It may mean nothing to you now, but it means everything to him. And it would be such a welcoming gift for our lord to see when he will rise again!" He tossed it on the ground. "Get to work." He walked off into the darkness, escorted by the demon.

"Sherlock..." Dean stared after Jim. John picked up the picture. "Promise me we'll save him."

Sherlock looked at Dean then to John. They were all each other had. At least there was some guarantee Sam was alive. Together, they could save Sam. They could be a family again. But for now, they had to play by the rules, his rules, to stay alive. He would figure out what was really going on. Why they had to build this strange statue that resembled a run-down object that was used back in the late 19th century he remembered reading about one time. What was going on with Sam? And this lord of darkness. Nothing about him sounded pleasant. But he was coming. Whatever was in store for them, Sherlock knew they head to stick together. It was their only chance of maybe surviving this nightmare and rescuing Sam.

"I promise."

A whip cracked from the shadows, a demon appeared. "Aren't you a chatty bunch?" He jerked the whip again, splitting a tree in half. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

"And you are?" Sherlock asked. "What, a babysitter?"

Black eyes stared back, a dark laugh escaping the old throat. "I am Alastair, your disciplinary general." He threw the whip again at their feet, making the boys jump back. "I'm here to make sure you remain the honest souls you are by doing what you agreed to. If you don't, well."

"Ah!" The sting of the whip dug into John's shoulder. He backed up, sinking against a wall of a torn building. He pulled his hand away, sticky with fresh blood.

"John!" Sherlock knelt at his side.

"I'm fine." He took a deep breath. "Lord, deliver us."