Hi everyone! This is my first attempt at fanfiction, and I write and upload everything from a tablet, so please excuse any odd spelling or grammatical errors. Enjoy, and please leave feedback!

March, 1987

"Daddy, no!" The small voice was desperate, pleading, as tiny hands tightly gripped the creases in her father's blue jeans. Her blue and green eyes were trained on the ground, the tears rolling down her cheeks left little droplets on the leather of her father's boots. "You promised, Daddy. You promised you wouldn't leave me anymore…."

Her father, Quinn Watcher, glanced over at the other man in the room. Bobby Singer caught the glance and quietly exited the room, disappearing into the kitchen.

"Evie…" Her father spoke softly, kneeling down to look in her eyes.

"No!" she interjected, her watery eyes looking up at him, her tiny brow furrowed in anger. "You promised you wouldn't leave me anymore! You promised, and you aren't supposed to break promises!"

A sigh slipped from his lips and he wrapped his arms around the little girl in a hug. "Evie, sweet, I know what I said, but I have to do this. I need to, for your mother."

Eve tore herself from his grasp and backed away. "You always say that!" She turned and ran out the backdoor, into the scrapyard. Her father left her at Bobby's often, enough that the six year old had acquired a decent knowledge of the layout of the junkyard. Out past the first five rows of cars was an old scrap she had come to think of as hers. It was an old, rusted out 1985 Dodge Coronet convertible. Bobby had told her when she found it last year. The top was pretty much gone, ripped up and full of holes, and the seats were nothing more than bits of foam and old leather. It smelled of rust and oil and mothballs, but she loved it.

Despite the tore seats, she was still able to get comfy inside it. She sat herself in the driver's seat, knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, feet propped up against the steering wheel. Glaring at the backdoor, she felt her eyes begin to sting and water. Her dad was going to leave, he always did. She knew that, but that didn't mean she had to like it. And like it she did not.

The sound of an engine roaring to life startled her, it's loud rumble echoing throughout the junkyard and inside the car. She waited until it had faded away before she allowed the tears to fall. Her head dropped onto her arms, and she cried.

It seemed like hours before the loud crack of the backdoor opening sounded, and soon Bobby was beside her. "Eve?"

"I hate him."

"No, you don't," he said with a chuckle.

"I do! I can't stand him. He always leaves me."

Bobby was quiet for a moment. "I've got ice cream."

Her sniffles paused, and she looked over at him. "What kind?"

"Strawberry."

"The one with the chocolate and vanilla in it too?"

"That's the one."

And suddenly, everything was okay again. The car creaked and groaned as she climbed out to follow Bobby inside the house. When she got there, he handed her the tub of ice cream, a silver spoon already sticking out of it. She carried it into the living room and plopped herself down on the couch.

She hadn't eaten too much when there was a loud knock on the door. Curious, she wiggled around in her seat until she could see the door. Bobby blocked most of it, so she couldn't see much other than his backside, and part of another man in front of him.

"John." Eve had never heard that name before, but Bobby didn't sound too happy to see this guy, whoever he was.

"Bobby." John sounded nervous. "Can you watch them for a few days?"

A sigh from Bobby. "I've already got one munchkin, but they could probably all squeeze into that bed. Yeah, sure."

"I owe you."

"Damn right."

"Boys, come one. I'll see you in a few days."

Boys? That caught Eve's attention. She set her ice cream down and headed to the door to see who was there. Grabbing Bobby's leg, she slowly peeked around him. There were two boys. Neither looked to be Eve's age.

"Hi!" The younger of the two greeted her. "I'm Sam! I'm four! This is my brother Dean. He's 8."

"I'm Eve," she said, stepping out from behind Bobby and extending her hand. "Im six." Sam shook it, Dean just stared at her like she had grown an extra head.

Bobby ruffled her hair and ushered the boys inside. "Alright, you lot. Bedtime. Go on."

His words started a mad dash up the stairs, Eve and Dean fighting for who got to use the bathroom first. Dean won. Miffed, Eve stood outside the bathroom door, her foot tapping impatiently as she waited for her turn. Finally, Dean left the bathroom, shooting her a look as he walked past. Eve glared back before darting into the bathroom.

Once all three had finished up, they crawled into the bed, which was plenty big enough to fit all of them. Sam slept closest to the window, because he liked the breeze, and Dean slept on the other side of bed, because 'there was no way he'd sleep between his brother and some girl,' leaving Eve the middle, which she really didn't mind.

"Goodnight, Eve!"

A smile broke across her face. "Night, Sam!" She liked him, he was sweet. Dean, however….she had just met him and she already hated him.