This is my first fanfic that I've published. Here is the first chapter. I'm working very hard on it and appreciate you being here to see the work. I'm working on the sign language best I can, I am still learning. Thanks and enjoy! I'll post an update when I can!

It was hard to bring himself out of the darkness that enveloped his mind. The last thing he remembered was his father being stabbed and that crazy black-eyed man

running after him. Opening his eyes, Carter blinked away the fuzz and tried to concentrate on the scene around him. His hands were tied behind his back to the chair he

was sitting on. There were big boys in the same position across from him. One had short, dirty blonde/brown hair that was spiked up in front and the other had long,

dark brown hair. Between himself and the two big boys, was that same black-eyed man who had stabbed his dad.

The short-haired man was talking to the evil man.

He's innocent! He doesn't matter to you!

The evil man turned toward Carter, and his black eyes gleamed with sinister happiness that Carter was now awake.

Look at you! The man knelt down so he was eye-level with Carter, who screwed his face into a mean grimace. So scary! The man barked with laughter. Now, D here is

supposed to be choosing whether I kill you or his brother. Which do you think he'll choose?

**SPN**

Dean was infuriated by what this demon was telling the child sitting across from them. That fury alone was probably what made him able to finally get the knot loosened

to free his hands. He quietly made his way to Sam, slipping a hand into his jacket to remove the hidden Demon Knife. The demon was still chatting, although one-sided,

with the small boy.

"You are such a precious thing, you know? It'd be my lucky day to kill Sam Winchester, but I'll have just as much fun—" The knife cut the sentence off as the demon

died. Dean quickly un-tied the boy, who stared at him in surprise and worry while he worked at the knots. After he got them undone, he knelt in front of the boy.

"Hey, kid, no worries! It's gonna be okay. We're here to help. What's your name?"

The little boy made a "C" with his hand and then took his index finger to his chin and pulled it down.

Dean stared at the boy, perplexed. Sam was now kneeling next him, looking just as confused. The boy made the "C" again, closed his fist with his thumb sticking out,

crossed his index and second finger, put his thumb in-between his first and second finger in a fist, set his thumb under his four fingers and then crossed his index and

second finger again.

"Dean, that's sign language!" Sam exclaimed.

"So, he's deaf?" Dean asked.

The boy was nodding.

"So, I think he must be able to read lips. I think he signed his name for you."

The boy nodded again, and made the letters again with his hand. After, he made the "C" and took his index finger to his chin and pulled it down like he had before.

"Sam?"

"No, Dean, I can do a lot, but I have no clue what he's signing. I know 'thank-you' and 'sorry.' That's it."

Sam took his hand and placed a fist on his chest, moving it in a counter-clockwise direction. "Sorry. We'll figure it out, okay? Do you know your address?"

The boy shrugged.

"Where's your mom and dad?" Sam tried.

The boy placed one hand palm up, the other palm down next to it in mid-air and then flipped both over. His eyes filled with tears that quickly began falling.

Dean pulled the boy into a hug and stood up, picking the boy up with him.

Sam stood as well.

"Well, I don't need to know sign language to figure out that demon probably killed his parents." Dean said gruffly. "Let's get out of here."

"What are we going to do—"

"I dunno, Sammy. We're taking him with us for right now, he's gonna need protection. I don't think that demon just chose a kid randomly."

"Let's see if the library is open. It's only five." Sam said, as they began walking from the abandoned building, Dean still carrying the crying child. "Better yet, I think we

passed a school for the deaf in Iowa. After the library, maybe we should take him there? No one will know him and they'll be able to translate for us."

"What's gonna be at the library?" Dean asked, placing the child in the backseat of the car. He was asleep now. Dean took his jacket off and put it on the boy's sleeping

form, then got into the driver's seat. Sam dropped down into the passenger's seat.

"Books on ASL."

"Right. Iowa is about fifteen hours from here."

Sam went into the library, Dean stayed in the car in case the boy woke up. He had no idea what they were going to do. He wished the kid out of this whole situation.

The rustling brought Dean out of his thoughts and he turned towards the back seat. The red-haired boy stared back at him, and Dean got an idea.

Dean got out of the car, beckoning the boy to follow. Dean picked the boy up and placed him on the trunk to sit. Out of his pocket he took his dad's old leather-bound

journal and opened it to a blank page.

"Can you write?" Dean asked, hopefully.

The boy nodded. Relief flowed through Dean.

"What's your name?" He asked.

In a child's hand, he wrote. C-A-R-T-E-R. Then signed the letters of his name to Dean. Dean clumsily signed it back to Carter. Carter then pointed at Dean questioningly

and tapped the paper. D-E-A-N, he wrote.

Carter then made a "D" with his hand, set his thumb under his four fingers, closed his fist with his thumb sticking out, and then put his thumb underneath and stuck it

out between the second and third fingers.

"Is that how to sign my name?" Dean asked.

Carter nodded. With Carter's help, Dean learned his own name, quickly.

"Sam's my brother," Dean said. "He's in the library."

The boy tapped the paper. S-A-M, Dean wrote. Carter made a fist, then stuck his thumb out, and then stuck his thumb under his four fingers, sticking it out between

the third finger and the pinky. He then placed an open hand on Dean's chest, but then he made what looked like an "L" shape with both hands. One he took to his

forehead and brought it down to meet the other hand.

The boy made the motion again, and then signed "S-A-M" again. He took the pen and wrote "brother," before making the entire motion again.

Dean mimicked the name and motion, but the boy shook his head, he took the hand Dean had pointed at him and moved it so it was against Dean's chest. He motioned

his open palm at Dean and made the "brother" motion again. It clicked. Sam was his brother, not Carter's.

The red-haired boy was smiling up at Dean. Dean looked up and saw Sam heading back their way with a couple books under his arm.

"His name is Carter." Dean said, as Sam got closer.

"How d'you figure?" Sam asked.

"He's old enough to write a bit. Mine's this," Dean said, and signed his own name.

Sam laughed. "Well, I got a couple books to help us out, just in case. I guess we should get on the road to Iowa?"

"Yeah," Dean turned back to Carter, who was looking a bit confused. "We're gonna go on a little road trip. We're gonna protect you, okay? Those demons aren't getting

their hands on you."

Carter put his thumbs up to his temples and flapped his fingers, surprise and worry etched on his face. He then placed his index finger on his lips and moved it forward.

Carter then took his index finger across his forehead and pointed to his eyes.

"Sam?" Dean asked, looking at his brother.

Sam shook his head and shrugged. "No idea. I'm gonna need a minute to read the books, Dean."

Carter seemed to give up on the sentence he'd just signed, and tugged at Dean's shirt. Dean looked back toward Carter as he touched his thumb to the tips of his

fingers and put it to his mouth.

"Don't need the book for that one," Dean said.

"Nope. Food," Sam said.

"I agree. Let's get some food," Dean said. Carter smiled and held his arms out for Dean to pick him up. Dean obliged and put him back into the car, buckling him in this

time. Sam buried his face in one of the sign language books, reading with the late evening sun, and about a half hour later, they came upon a small diner along the side

of the highway. Dean parked and the trio went into the diner. The hostess sat them down at a table and asked what they'd like to drink.

"Just water," Dean and Sam said simultaneously.

"And you, sweetie?" She asked, looking at Carter.

He put three fingers up and tapped his mouth with them.

"I think that he wants water," Sam said, questioningly.

Carter nodded at Sam. The waitress put down two regular menus and a kid's menu before walking away from the table to get their drinks. Dean handed the kid's menu

to Carter and looked down at his own menu. After a few minutes, Dean felt eyes on him and looked up to meet Carter's eyes. He tapped the menu and then tapped

Dean's arm. Dean looked down at the menu and read the items off for Carter.

"Uh, hamburger or cheeseburger, grilled cheese, mac and cheese, or chicken nuggets?" Dean asked.

Carter shook his head and tapped the paper again. Dean looked down and saw that Carter was tapping a tic-tac-toe game where he had made an "X" in the center with

a green crayon. Dean smiled at him before grabbing the blue crayon and making an "O" next to Carter's "X." Sam watched the game, until Carter had three "X's" in a

row and made a line through them, smiling up at both of them. Sam held up his hand, and Carter obliged him by slapping it, beaming.

The waitress came back with three waters.

"That's so cute," she said. "Is he yours?" she asked, looking between Sam and Dean.

"Uh—Well, er, yeah. He is." Sam stuttered out, glancing at Dean.

"Has he been deaf since birth?" She asked.

"Y-Yes. He has," Dean answered this question, biting the end off tersely.

"Well, are you ready to order?" She asked, changing the subject.

"You know what you want?" Dean asked Carter.

Carter nodded and pointed at "grilled cheese."

Sam ordered his usual salad and Dean his usual cheeseburger.

Once the waitress left, Dean and Sam sighed, relieved that the questioning had stopped. Sam looked at Carter, who stared back questioningly. He pointed at himself,

made a fist and stuck his thumb and pinky out and pushed his hand forward. He then motioned to Sam and Dean. Dean looked to Sam, who had one of the books open

on the table.

"Stay. I stay you," Sam said. "He's asking if he's supposed to be staying with us now."

"For now, yes," Dean said to Carter.

The waitress dropped the food by, "Enjoy!" and made her way back to another table to take their order.

**SPN**

Carter stared at his plate as he shoveled it into his mouth. His dad had made grilled cheese for him all the time. He remembered sitting at the island in the kitchen,

eating while his dad signed stories of when he was a kid and of stories about his mom. She had died when he was born, and he had been born deaf. Yet, his dad

had taught him as he'd grown. He remembered the rumble of his dad's chest as he spoke and sang lullabies to help him sleep. Even though

he couldn't particularly hear the words, the rumble of his dad's chest helped lull him to sleep.

Finishing up the last bite, he stared down at the empty plate, sadness filling him. His mom and dad were both dead, and here he was sitting at a table with two strange

men who talked about demons being real. Carter wondered if angels existed, too. His dad had always told him angels were watching over him, which he'd always

thought would have been odd. Were they watching while he went to the bathroom? Why had they been watching? Dad had said they were watching him to protect

him, so they must have stopped watching, or they'd have protected him from that black eyed man, right? Dean saved him though, so maybe Dean was an angel. Carter

looked up at Dean and Sam. They were just finishing up their food. Carter tapped Dean on his arm, and waited until he looked up. When he had, Carter motioned toward

him with his index finger and then touched both hands to his shoulders and raised them up, with a questioning look on his face. Are you an angel?