They pulled up and screeched to a halt. Guards surrounded them, but Sherlock just showed his driver's license briefly to them and stormed in. Sam apologized for him and followed after.

"Wait out here," Sherlock commanded Sam. Sam didn't question it as Sherlock raced inside. He remembered the hall. he remembered the room. His shoes pounded against the floor and his trench coat flapped behind him as he ran to where Mycroft was, expecting the worst.

He skidded to a halt. Mycroft stood in the middle of the room, unmoving, silent. His stance was uneasy and he swayed as though he were ill, and on his face was a look of distress and pain. "Sherlock…" He said, barely above a whisper. "I told you not to come…"

His eyes shut and he fell forward.

Sherlock raced up to him, catching his chest with his hand. The off-white of the room seemed intrusive and overwhelming, and he could barely tell what was happening. He felt his hand pressing against Mycroft's chest get hot and wet, and he pulled it away to see it was soaked in red. He stepped away, appalled, and his brother slipped through his fingers like sand, falling to the floor. He backed away. the room was spinning. His heart was pounding. His brother was dead.

"Hello, Sherlock," A voice said. Sherlock's eyes flicked around the room until he found the source of the voice. It was the phone. Just a voicemail, but he was sure he knew that voice.

"Aw man, sucks right? Although, then again, he did tell you not to visit him. You really should have listened to big brother Mikey!" the man on the voice said through the phone. He laughed. "Anyway. I'm sorry I had to kill your brother, but you see, it did have meaning Sherlock. See it how you will, an artist should never explain his art. It could represent something like the eternal pursuit of life, doomed to fail. Admittedly, though, it does have a more literal, specific meaning, so much so, it could be called a message." His cheerful, fluctuating voice suddenly got low and serious. "Stop looking for Lucifer. You can't stop him. It's already over. You leave this problem be and maybe, if I am in a very very good mood, I'll let you die quickly." His voice changed back immediately, and the words bounced around in Sherlock's head. "That's all! Oh, wait no, sorry, not quite. Um… what else, ugh it's on the tip of my tongue… Oh, right! I probably ought to tell you that as soon as this message ends, a 30 second countdown will start and then a bomb put into the phone will go off and blow up the white house. Just thought I should mention. Okay, I'm nearly done. Just one more teensy thing you may want to do Sherlock. Well, two, actually. Number one: Look up."

Sherlock found himself unable to disobey, especially since a sticky, lukewarm liquid was dripping onto his cheek. He knew it already. Blood.

His eyes widened, horrified, as he saw four words written ten words across, using red, hot, dripping blood as ink.

Did you miss me?

Before Sherlock had time to contemplate, the voice continued onto his second message. "Number two: run."

Sherlock didn't question it. He darted out of the room, hearing automated voice on the phone say "message ended." Again, his feet thudded across the floor as he ran out. He grabbed Sam by the shirt when he met him outside.

"What's happening? Where's Mycroft?!" He demanded.

"Dead!" Sherlock responded.

"What?!"

"Come on, we have to run!"
Back at the warehouse, Dean was still cleaning out his gun. Suddenly, he heard a loud clatter behind him. His eyes flicked up to see the chair tipped over, and crossed over the chains, empty. Castiel was nowhere in sight. He sat rapidly up.

"Castiel?!" He shouted. "Castiel?!"

Sam didn't question what Sherlock had to say, and followed immediately behind, both of them sprinting away. Sherlock had been counting subconsciously. 30 seconds. The timer was always 30 seconds.

He swallowed as he nearly ran out of time. 10, 9, 8.

Not fast enough, not far enough away!

7, 6, 5.

No, it couldn't be too late! No!

4, 3, 2…

No…

A crash set off behind him, a force pushed him forward, and everything went black.

-TO BE CONTINUED-

((Short chapter, I know, sorry, but I figured it was the best possible place to leave off. Please review if you enjoyed, and I'll post the next part after a bit!))