My brother was only six when he first began suffering from night terrors, the only thing doctors could think of was to get him a teddy bear and a night light and that he'll be fine. The thing is he wasn't a baby, he was smart and knew way more than he should've. The little smartass. At the time even my parents had the suspicion that they were caused by stress from external stimuli-for he was a normal happy child, though everything changed when he went to sleep.

At the time I didn't pay attention to how much parents felt about the whole ordeal, they were always calm and collected except for the whispers I could hear through the wall at night, they were terrified. It's almost as if they knew what was up. Their baby was ridden with an illness neither they or any doctor could understand. After a few months he stopped sleeping during the night, completely convinced what he saw was real, he was only able to sleep for a few hours during the day in random rooms around the house, except his.

A few weeks passed and he was ready to try sleeping in his room again, so he did. Once again the dreams started and they were always the same, a little girl stood at the foot of his bed, getting closer, closer, closer, until he woke up screaming then went back to sleep so the vicious cycle could repeat itself, after a few times he'd go to our parents room and stay with them for the rest of the night until one night he came into my room rubbing his tired blue eyes. "It's not fair that I keep waking them up, can you stay in my room with me?" And so I did.

I waited for him to fall asleep and after about ten minutes he began to whimper "Go...Go..." He shot up, his eyes fixated at the foot of his bed, his neck snapped in my direction and he lunged at me. He pushed me with a force that no eight year old possessed on his own, then he collapsed. I crawled towards him to make sure he was okay, but at this point our parents were awake from the noise. He sat up, his hair matted with sweat, his skin was sickly pale; almost yellow looking. Then of course he puked, then burst into tears. "Why didn't you go...I told you to go, Dean...She was going to get you...She couldn't get inside me...So she went for you...Your ear..."

By this point our parents came in and took him to the bathroom to clean up, I was slowly processing what he said, so I hesitantly reached for my ear, it was bleeding from the inside. I put my finger inside my ear to feel what felt like mush really, the worst thing is what I pulled out. The tip of a child's finger, ridden with whatever things attach themselves to you when you decompose.

We boarded up the room and eventually moved, but that wasn't the last time something supernatural happened to Sammy.

Sammy crawled into my bed as soon as the shouting started, something about what happened that night a few weeks ago changed the way things were around the house, dad developed a sudden obsession in teaching us how to shoot a gun, mum seemed reluctant but allowed it. Sammy was smart enough to know something was going on and so was I. It's not the first time we had moved and it sure as hell wasn't the first time something odd had happened. Our normally quiet and contained parents just seemed to lose it, all they did was scream at each other lately. I wish I could figure out what they were talking about. So as I sat there with Sammy on my lap, I cupped his ears and listened.

"No John, you fucked up this time and you know it." It was the first time I'd heard my mum swear.

"Really Mary? I fucked up? I did this for you, so that our boys could grow up safe!"

"I didn't want you to! You've endangered the boys, I didn't want them to have this life!"

"They don't need to be like us, I've already told you this."

"How do you expect them to protect themselves, John? By ignoring reality and running away? You were selfish for doing what you did. You should've left me."

This doesn't make any sense I thought, but boy I was determined to find out. The next thing I heard was the slamming of a door, dad probably went to the bar. Again. I thought about everything that had happened up to this point. Is it stupid that I believe in ghosts? Probably. All I know is that now I have only one priority, and that was to protect my little brother from whatever it is that's plaguing this family.

I gently uncupped Sammy's ears and ruffled his hair. "Time for bed Sammy." I said through a slightly forced smile. I picked him up hulk style and tucked him into bed.

"Hey Beanbag." Sammy whispered, I smiled at the little pet name. He hadn't used it since he was three.

"Yeah Sammy?"

"Sing me a song, you know, like you did when I was a baby."

And so I did.

Carry on my wayward son, there'll be peace when you are done

lay your weary head to rest, don't you cry no more…

It was around 4am, Sammy was asleep, mum was asleep, dad was passed out on the couch stinking of alcohol.

I swear to God if I could go back and stop myself from doing what I did that night I would. I mustered all the courage I could and tiptoed to dad's study.

The creaky hardwood floor made my heart jump into my throat, yet I kept going. I walked past the couch with dad snoring on it and straight to the door of his study. It was locked. Luckily for me, I was a survivalist of sorts and managed to pick the small brass lock. The door creaked open and I walked in. The room was small and cramped, the walls were barely visible, covered in weird blueprint and symbols, there were books stacked to the ceiling, written in languages that didn't even seem human, the room had a musky kind of smell, dust clinged to the air. There was a pentagram kind of symbol painted in front of the door, my suspicions of something Supernatural taking place seemed way more logical now.

The one thing that stood out the most about the room was an ancient looking stone box sitting on the desk, it was engraved with one of those weird looking languages. It had a kind of lingering luminescence, it called to me. I was in some kind of trance-I edged towards it, reached out and flipped the box open. The light faded and nothing seemed to happen for a few seconds until a buzzing sound filled my ears, the room started to shake and a shadow filled the room with darkness and the smell of sulphur.

"Hello Dean." Man, this guy was creepy. He had these pure black eyes, like coal. I could tell we weren't going to get along, anyone who can make the word 'hello' sound sarcastic was almost always bad news.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked suspiciously while taking a step back.

"Yes." He replied.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You're not human are you?"

"Bingo. Demon. Crowley. Thank you for releasing the king of hell, adios."

He clicked his fingers and disappeared. Everything happened so fast, I stood there in a daze, trying to process what just happened.

Demons, Crowley, box, demons? British. What?

I sat down on the floor, it hadn't sunk in yet. All I knew was that Sammy needed protection from much more than bickering parents. Much more.

Before I had time to react the front door was kicked down by a group of men-no, not men; they had Crowley's black eyes. The next thing I saw didn't make sense, my dad was fighting them, like full on ninja-style knifing the bastards.

Mid combat he called to me. "Dean, take Sam and run. GO!"

So that's what I did. I ran upstairs, grabbed Sammy and the bag of provisions I've kept under my bed since we moved house. I could hear my mum shouting at the things at the door, she was fighting too by this point, I ran downstairs and almost slipped in a pool of blood, dad was the source of it. I ran even faster to the back door, burying Sammy's head into my chest, I didn't want him to see all the blood.

I ran and ran until I was nauseous and drenched in sweat, we were far away enough to take a minute to gather ourselves.

I opened the bag and took out some fresh clothes for Sam and helped him change. Okay so Dad's dead. I thought to myself. Then I realized.

Dad was dead.

I snapped out of it quickly enough, I had to protect Sammy, my feelings were irrelevant compared to his.

"Dean?" Sam asked me rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Yeah Sammy?" I replied with soft tone, too soft actually-so he knew something had gone bad.

"Are we going to Uncle Bobby's?" He asked. That's where we always went when something weird happened.

My genius little brother figured out our next move, at this point I wasn't sure how much he saw or how much he knew, but he'd figure it out eventually, he was a smart kid. Luckily for us Bobby didn't live too far away, maybe about an hour on foot. His wife Karen always baked us pie. No matter what time we turned up.

I reached into the bag and pulled out handgun, courtesy of dad of course. I tucked it into the back of my jeans discreetly so Sammy didn't see; I wasn't prepared to kill anything though. If a demon came along I doubted I could shoot, after all it wouldn't kill the demon-just it's meat suit.

I took Sammy by the hand and we started walking, the atmosphere was weird though. There was a kind of ambient light lingering in the air. I thought nothing of it and glanced over to Sammy, I could tell his cogs were turning furiously. We walked for about twenty minutes in silence until something crashed into the ground behind us and exploded in a blinding white light.

I pushed Sammy behind me and reached for the gun, I didn't need it though-for what we saw next was borderline comical.

A boy with scruffy brown hair and huge angelic looking blue eyes stood up covered in soot. He was wearing this oversized trench coat, the boy looked round in a daze until he saw me, giggled and skipped towards me.

"HI DEAN!" He called through huge smile.

"Uhh, hi..." I replied.

"I'm sorry! I should introduce myself! I'm Castiel!"

"Okay...So, what exactly are you?"

"I'm an angel, only a baby though." He said sadly.

"An angel? Nope. No, we're not doing this crap again, come on Sammy let's go."

"But...I was assigned to be your guardian angel..." I glanced back at him and felt a pang of guilt, his big blue eyes looked on the verge of tears, his trench coat was all floppy-like around his hands.

"Fine. Come with us, we'll deal with this later."