I ran out of title ideas and stole a lyric from Starset's My Demons, so credit them for the title. It fits with the fic, and I was soo tired of trying to come up with titles.

I rated this k+ because it's all seen through a kid's eyes. Some of the content is a little rough, but I avoided describing anything. There will be torture in later chapters, but it's the opposite of graphic. There's some minor action violence as well.

If you were wondering, this isn't a romance in any way. Possible subtle Destiel, but not anywhere near as much as in the actual show.

I felt free to make changes to canon, so the universe is a little different. I hope you enjoy it!

When I was seven my mother died in a car accident, and I was sent to live with a father I'd never met. Now I'm stuck with a bunch of knowledge I never wanted. My dad's John Winchester. He drags me around to a million hotel rooms and runs off to fight monsters with his other sons, Sam and Dean. Monsters?! Really, John, monsters? And why tell a seven year old?

Now I've been with them for about eighteen months. Luckily, I'm too young for John to expect me to be a hunter. Not having reached double digits yet has its perks. Still, it's a harder life than when I lived with my mom, Kate Milligan. I don't want to even think about how it'll be when I'm old enough to go on hunting trips.

I'm supposed to be at the library right now. John ordered me to go there. Normally, I spend all my time at the library, but John ordered me to go there. I don't do orders. So I changed my plans and am snooping in on their private conversation. I hadn't expected to need Sam's lessons in stealth, but they're coming in handy now.

"But will the proofing sigils work if they manifest their wings?" Dean asked.

"The handcuffs'll be enough," John said gruffly. He's usually gruff.

"We don't have enough holy oil," Sam complained. "And even if we did the whole idea is ridiculous."

"I'm in charge here, and I say we're doing it," John snapped.

"They don't deserve to be hunted. They can't be hunted! All you're going to do is get us killed."

"Don't question me!" John yelled.

"You need to be questioned!" Sam yelled right back. "This hunt is suicidal, and we aren't even hunting monsters."

"We hunt monsters, and the angels are monsters," John said. "We're hunting them, and that's final."

Angels? Did I hear John right? No way. He cannot be hunting angels. I just misheard. It's surely some other monster whose name sounds like angels.

"We hunt monsters who kill people," Sam retorted. "We start hunting all inhuman creatures and we'll be no better than the monsters!"

"The angel did sound pretty innocent," Dean interjected quietly.

"We are hunters!" John yelled. "We need to be able to hunt, and if we don't know how to kill those angels, we won't be able to."

So, the word was definitely angel. OK, so it's a code word or something. There's no way he meant literal angels. Right? Even John can't be nuts enough to think angels need hunting. I never studied theology beyond Christmas Carols, but aren't angels good-guy messengers who are perfect and work for God? It's worse than hunting Santa's elves, and about as possible.

"And what are you going to do about Adam," Sam was asking. "He's a kid. You can't drag him into this mess."

They're talking about me. I don't like it when they talk about me. I mean, if they're hunting angels I don't want in, so Sam is right. But I don't really feel like being the prop in an argument.

"Adam's nine," John spat back. "He's old enough to deal."

That was bad. It was very convenient for me to pull the kid card. Was John stealing that from me? I'd known it was only a matter of time before this happened, but I'd wanted some more time. At least another two or three years. I'd thought maybe by then I'd be tough enough to handle standing up against John and point blank refuse to hunt.

"Couldn't you send the kid to Bobby's?" Dean asked.

"Ah, couldn't hurt," John said off-handedly. "And we've got enough time I suppose."

"We shouldn't use the summoning ritual," Sam said. "It's the worst hunting idea you've ever had."

"It'll work."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Sam said. "If I was confident it would flop, I'd say go ahead. It would be a disaster if it worked."

"We can handle an angel," John said. "We're hunters. It's our job."

"But we shouldn't. Three against one, really? That's hardly fair," Sam spat.

"Fair is irrelevant, you insolent brat!" John yelled.

I took that as my cue to leave. This was worth researching, and now that they had dropped into insults it wasn't worthwhile to keep listening. I walked over to the library. I wanted to see if they had anything on angels, and it wouldn't hurt if John thought I'd been there the whole time. The library was a flop. I couldn't find any reliable information on angels. They're too popular of a myth.

It probably wouldn't matter. John was a decent hunter, but there was no way he'd catch an angel. They probably weren't real anyway. Angels? Really? The regular hunting crap was real, I'd seen enough to believe it. But angels weren't monsters. They were- rays of holy light or something. I don't know; it sounded bad as soon as I thought it out.

John showed up at the library and snagged me to drag me to Bobby's. I didn't resist, and I didn't try asking about where we were going. I don't think he likes it when I ask questions. I'm not a confrontational person like Sam. I'd rather just quietly protest or hide in the crowd.

John got in this big argument with Bobby and we ended up leaving. Well, I left civilly. Bobby chased John off with a loaded shotgun. It was pretty normal for John's interactions with other hunters, so it didn't faze me. I've gotten good at being neutral and staying out of arguments.

John drove me to an abandoned warehouse in North Dakota, and started painting a bunch of sigils on the walls. I sat in a corner and read an L'Engle book. Several hours later it got too dark to read, so I tucked the book into my backpack and looked around for a light. There were no lights. Apparently, John had left me alone in an abandoned warehouse with nothing. I sighed in irritation. I wish I had a better guardian. This is not how you're supposed to parent a nine year old.

I got bored and left the warehouse. If I got in trouble, it would be John's fault for not telling me not to. I stumbled into the middle of a summoning circle, and tripped over a wire. "Oof," I yelped, falling on my face. There was a funny hissing noise, and fire sprang up all around me.

I cried out in shock and jerked away from it, but the fire surrounded me in a circle shape. There was no escaping. "Um," I choked. I sat in the center and pulled my knees to my chest. I'd been caught before, and I could tell the fire wasn't closing in on me. But I was still scared.

I don't like feeling trapped, and I have pretty bad claustrophobia. I started freaking out a little, staring around at the fire. I was trapped; I was stuck. I couldn't get away. I looked outside the fire for the first time, hoping someone was coming to let me out.

Three confused faces looked back at me. Sam, Dean, and John.

"Guys?" I asked.

"Adam?" Sam asked.

"C-can you let me out?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course," Sam said. "We were expecting someone else."

"No," John spoke suddenly. "He's possessed."

I sniffled. "Am not."

"I guess it's possible," Dean said.

"G-guys, this isn't f-funny," I stammered. "Lemme out."

"Dad, he's not possessed," Sam said.

"There's far too much to say he is," John said firmly.

"Can't you just throw holy water at me and prove I'm human?" I begged. I didn't want to stay in the circle.

"It wouldn't work," Dean said gruffly.

"Holy water won't affect what we're hunting," Sam explained gently.

"Oh," I said. "Angels, right. Duh."

"There," John said triumphantly. "Proof you're not Adam. He didn't know it was angels."

"What?" I asked, horrified. "But- I'm really me!"

"We'd need proof," Dean said.

"He's an angel," John said sternly.

Dean backed down. Of course he backed down. He's Dean, he never questions John properly.

I turned to look at Sam, the only one who wasn't convinced I was an angel. "You believe me, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "I didn't even finish reading the summoning yet. And angels need permission to possess people, so I think you're clean."

"Phew," I said.

Sam got a bucket of water they'd had on hand for emergencies and was about to put out the fire.

"Stop!" John ordered angrily. "Do not release the angel."

"Yeah, cause Adam's an angel," Sam said. "Sure, I totally agree," he added sarcastically. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to let my little brother out of the fire."

"Stop this insubordination this minute," John ordered fiercely.

"Why?" Sam snapped. "I don't want to help you fight angels, much less my own little brother! Can't you see at all anymore?" He was about to storm away.

"Wait," I begged. "I don't wanna be alone." I didn't count John and Dean. They thought I was an angel and wanted to hurt me. I wasn't clear on why they thought I was an angel or why they would want to hurt me if I was, but I knew I didn't want Sam to leave. I extended my arm toward Sam and over the ring of fire, entreating him not to leave me.

"An angel couldn't do that," Dean noted.

"So Adam's not possessed," John admitted hesitantly.

Sam splashed water onto the fire, putting it out. I jumped up, ran to him and hugged him.

"Hey, Adam, it's ok," he said gently. I noticed I was crying.

"Sam, finish the summoning," John ordered.

"Forget it," Sam said. "Why are we hunting angels in the first place?"

"Read. The. Summoning."

"Explain your reasoning first," Sam said. "And maybe I'll think about it."

"You are my most disappointing child," John said. He turned. "Dean, read the summoning."

Dean took the paper with the summoning on it from Sam and read from it obediently.

I was a little confused. The oil was covered in water, and the trip-wire wasn't reset from me stepping on it. How were we going to catch an angel if one did show up? We weren't prepared. I wasn't convinced yet on this angels are real thing, much less that you could summon one. If one did show up though, and was nasty like John thought, we were toast.

But an angel wouldn't be nasty. How nasty could a beautiful, winged harp player who sat on clouds be? And even if those stories were wrong, we'd probably be looking at a righteous warrior, right? Angels were nice. I was actually looking forward to the possibility of an angel showing up. It would be cool to see a real one.

Dean finished chanting with the word Samandriel. I vaguely recognized the summoning ritual, and I was pretty sure this was where the name of the person you wanted to summon went. So the angel's name was Samandriel? It was kinda long, but I liked it.

"How'd you get the name to use?" I asked.

"A woman in San Francisco said a young man named Samandriel saved her daughter from drowning," Sam explained. "We think he was an angel."

"Isn't helping people good?" I asked, confused. "Isn't that what you guys do?"

"Yeah." It was Dean who answered.

"So why are we hunting Samandriel if he saved some poor girl?"

"That's my question too," Sam said.

"Because he's a monster," John said.

"He's an angel, dad," Sam argued. "He's good."

"He's not human, so we find a way to kill him," John said matter-of-factly.

"That's nuts," Sam spat.

"It's common sense and good hunting," John snapped back.

The soft flutter of wings prevented Sam from replying. Samandriel had come.