Hey guys! I recently (as in almost 2 months ago) started watching Supernatural and I am HOOKED. I started writing one-shots for Casey here a while back and decided that it was high time I posted some of them. They are being dual posted on Wattpad under the same story name. I wrote this sort-of backstory for her so you would know where she came from. These one-shots are going to be out of order chronologically, but character ages will be posted at the top so you can get a sense of when each one-shot happened in correlation with the others. Most of these one-shots happen when the three of them are much older, but I'm thinking about writing a few more that are focused on her childhood. What do you guys think? Let me know in the comments. I also take requests for this story, so if there is something you want to see please let me know! Love you all!

Dean - 15; Sam - 11; Casey - 6

Casey Murdock was not your average six-year-old. She knew things that no six-year-old ever should. Like how to walk silently around the house when Daddy was asleep, and how to squeeze herself into tight places so Daddy couldn't reach her if she ever woke him up.

She knew not to ask questions, especially not about Mommy. The last time Casey asked about Mommy, Daddy threw one of his bottles of yucky liquid at her. She didn't know why he liked to drink that stuff. She thought it smelled bad.

She knew how to take money from her Daddy's dresser drawer and walk down the street to the corner store to buy food. The cashier knew her name. Sometimes he would slip a few extra things in her bag along with the bread and milk she always bought.

She knew how to make food for herself. Every morning she would eat the bread and milk she bought at the corner store. Her neighbor had an apple tree in his yard and some of the apples would fall into hers. He told her that anything that fell in her yard was hers to keep, so she carefully collected whatever she could. Sometimes the neighbors would bring her food when they knew that her Daddy wasn't home. Casey always made sure not to leave crumbs. Daddy got mad if she left crumbs.

She knew how to walk around the corner to the library and find somebody to help her reach the books on the top shelf. She learned to read from the picture books in the children's section. Daddy wouldn't let her go to school because he said it cost too much money. He threw another bottle at her when she asked if she could go. The librarian knew her name and always greeted her with a wave and a sad smile. Casey didn't know why she was sad.

She knew how to put ice on her arm when Daddy hit her hard enough to leave a bruise. She knew how to clean cuts and bandage them up after Daddy threw his glass bottles at her. She knew not to cry because that would only make Daddy angrier.

Yes, Casey Murdock knew things. But there were things she didn't know as well.

She didn't know how to ride a bike or sing her ABCs. She didn't know how to pump her legs on the swings. She didn't know any Disney movies or princesses. She didn't know any bedtime stories or lullabies. She didn't know how ice cream tasted, or what it felt like to have a birthday. She didn't know what it was like to trick or treat on Halloween, or why Santa never seemed to visit her on Christmas. Maybe he'd forgotten, or maybe he simply didn't care.

In short, Casey knew how to survive, but she didn't know how to truly live life as a child should. Shed never had the option, and she didn't believe she ever would.

That's why she decided to leave.

ooOOoo

It was a rather average morning for Casey. She woke up at the crack of dawn, as soon as the sun started shining through her blinds, just like she usually did. She dressed silently. She knew her Daddy wasn't home (and probably wouldn't be until later that night) but dressing silently was a habit she'd picked up early on.

This morning, however, was going to be a little different. She decided that today was the day she was going to leave this place. She didn't want to stay any longer. She decided to set off to find a new family, one that would give her blankets without holes in them and would let her eat more than bread and milk for breakfast. Maybe, if she was lucky, She would even find a family that would let her go to school.

Casey had been slowly taking money from her Daddy's dresser drawer for some time now, a little bit at a time, just enough that he wouldn't notice. She used the money to go to The Second-Hand Store and buy a gently used backpack, one that was big enough to hold all her things. The cashier there knew her name as well. She would bring him her old clothes that didn't fit and he would help her choose new ones at no extra charge. He had even given her a brand new coat for Christmas last year. It was hidden in the back of her closet, where Daddy would never find it.

Casey began folding up her clothes, like the man at the store had shown her. They took up less room that way, he said. All she had was a few shirts and pairs of pants, and two pairs of socks. She packed them all into the bottom of the backpack and began going methodically around her room, checking all her hiding places so she made sure she wouldn't forget anything. There were the crayons the neighbors had given her instead of throwing out. They were used and some were small, but she loved them anyway. She placed them carefully in one of the pockets and continued her search.

Casey began to count things off on her fingers. Let's see… she had her notebook from the Corner Store Man; her library card and the small, gently used picture book from the Librarian; the very small cardboard box holding her few treasures, like rocks and beads she'd found outside; and the doll she'd found in the Room with the Other Bed. Daddy didn't like it when she went into the Room with the Other Bed. He locked the door after he found her in there. But she'd managed to smuggle the doll out before he noticed. She named the doll Lucy. She wasn't sure why; maybe she just liked the name.

When she had deemed her search complete, she took the money she had stolen from Daddy's dresser the night before and put it in the box with her other treasures. Then she put on her coat and shoes and crept down the stairs to the kitchen.

She grabbed the bag of bread she'd bought the day before and put it inside the top of the bag so it wouldn't get squished. Finally, she took the few apples she'd managed to collect before the ground froze outside and put them in her coat pockets.

She took one last look around the kitchen. She didn't think she'd particularly miss this place, but she did know that she was never coming back, so she wanted to see everything one last time. The fridge where she kept all the food she bought, the microwave she taught herself to use, the Top Shelf where Daddy kept his yucky liquid, the pepper shaker that was moving on its own…

Wait.

Why was the pepper shaker moving? Was an earthquake happening? Casey had read about earthquakes in the library. She knew that they made everything in the whole house shake and fall over and that if one happened she needed to hide underneath something big and heavy, like the kitchen table.

But nothing else was moving, just the pepper shaker. Casey decided that she could probably rule out an earthquake. But what else could it be?

Then the microwave turned on all by itself.

Casey couldn't remember reading about that. Could microwaves turn on by themselves? She didn't think so. Only people could turn them on. And nobody was in the kitchen with her.

The fridge door was opening and closing now, making a loud banging noise. The bottles of yucky liquid on the Top Shelf were clinking together. The drinking cups in the cabinet flew off the shelf and right toward her. She ducked, thankful that the only drinking cups she had were plastic and not glass. Something was causing this, she decided. Cups don't fly around all by themselves.

Casey sighed and walked back up the stairs. She supposed leaving would have to wait another day. Right now, she needed to figure out what was going on.

ooOOoo

Later that day, when Casey left for the library, something tripped her when she was walking out the door. She caught herself before she fell, but she glared back inside the house afterward.

When she got to the library, she asked the librarian if she had any books on ghosts.

"Ghosts?" the librarian asked, puzzled.

Casey nodded solemnly. "Yes. I think I have one in my house. He's throwing things around and making lots of noises, and I need to figure out how to get him to leave."

The librarian blinked, then sighed, leading the young girl to the section of the library that held works on apparitions and paranormal activity.

"If you want information on ghosts, this is where you'll find it," she said.

"Thank you," Casey said.

She began to methodically search through the shelves, looking for a book that could possibly tell her how to get rid of a ghost.

She didn't notice the older man watching her from a nearby table. Two other boys were sitting near him, one a young teenager and the other still a child.

"What are ghosts afraid of?" Casey muttered to herself. "They have to be afraid of something…"

"You looking for books on ghosts?" the teenager asked.

Casey looked over him. "Yes. I think I have one in my house and I need to know how to make him go away."

The teenager chuckled and walked over to her. "What's your name, kid?"

"Cassandra Elizabeth Murdock. But my real name is too long, so everybody calls me Casey."

"Nice to meet you, Casey. My name's Dean," he said, sticking out his hand.

Casey shook it. "Do you know how to get rid of ghosts?"

"I know a thing or two," he answered vaguely. He looked around the area. "Where are your parents, kid?"

She shrugged. "I don't know where my Daddy is. He only comes home at night."

Dean's eyes widened. "What about your mom?"

"I don't have one," Casey replied sadly.

Dean got a faraway look in his eye. "Neither do I," he replied softly. "So your dad just lets you go wherever you want on your own? How old are you?"

"Six and a half."

He shook his head. "Unbelievable."

He took Casey's hand and led her over to the other table with the older kid and the man.

"This is my dad John and my younger brother Sam," he explained. "Tell us more about this ghost of yours."

"Dean, what are you doing?" Dean's dad asked. "You're supposed to be helping me research."

"This girl has a ghost problem," he explained. "And she's all alone. She's only six. I don't feel good about leaving her alone."

John just shook his head and went back to reading.

"He started bothering me today when I tried to leave," Casey started.

"Your ghost, you mean?" Sam asked, listening intently.

"Yeah. I had all my stuff packed ready to leave when weird stuff started to happen. The microwave turned on by itself and the fridge was opening and closing really loud. Then it started throwing drinking cups at me. And it tripped me when I walked out the door to come here."

"Sounds like you might have a poltergeist on your hands," Dean said thoughtfully.

"Why were you leaving the first time? Why did you have all your stuff packed?" Sam asked.

"I decided that it was time to go. As soon as I figure out how to get rid of the ghost I'm leaving. I'm going to go and find a family that will take care of me and let me go to school," Casey explained.

Sam got a sad look in his eyes. He didn't say anything. He just gave Casey a sad smile, not unlike the one the librarian always seemed to be wearing.

"You don't have a ghost sweetheart, you have a poltergeist," Dean explained. "They like to cause mischief. Luckily for you, we know how to get rid of them."

"You do?" Casey asked hopefully. "How?"

"You gotta find the remains of who they used to be when they were alive and burn them. And they really don't like salt, as well."

"What kind of remains? How do I find them?" she asked.

John was rather interested in this girl now. He thought she'd freak out when she learned about poltergeists and how to get rid of them, but instead, she wanted to know more.

"We can help you if you want," John offered. "Show us where you live and we'll take care of it."

Casey seemed rather wary of telling them where she lived.

"I don't know. You guys are strangers. You could steal from my house or something."

"Look, kid," Dean said, getting down on her level. "We wanna help you. We don't wanna hurt you. We'll get rid of your ghost for you and then you can be on your way to your new family that lets you go to school, okay?" Dean had a sad smile as well.

Casey thought for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. But if you guys try anything funny, I'll call the cops on you."

John raised an eyebrow. "You know how to call the cops?"

"Yeah. I called them on my Daddy once. He hid the phone from me after that, but I know where he hid it so I can still call them if you guys try to steal something."

"Okay. We won't steal anything. Scouts honor," Dean said, saluting her. "Now, take us to this poltergeist of yours."

ooOOoo

"This is where you live?" Sam asked her, disgusted.

Casey tried her hardest to keep things somewhat clean, but she wasn't able to do much. There was broken glass on the floor from last night when her daddy had thrown another glass bottle at her. There was a big cut on her shoulder, but she didn't think these people needed to know about that.

The floor was also really sticky from the yucky liquid on the Top Shelf. Casey didn't know how to make it not sticky, so she resigned herself to simply learning where the sticky places were and avoiding them. There were always dishes in the sink as well. Casey always washed her little plate and drinking cup, but she wasn't strong enough to put away the glass plates.

"Casey," Dean said, kneeling down so he was at eye level with her. "Does your daddy ever hurt you at all?"

Casey hesitated a moment, then shook her head. Dean already knew the real answer, though. He swore under his breath.

"You said this ghost likes to hang out in the kitchen?" he asked, changing the subject.

She nodded. "He likes to throw things at me."

Sam yelped when one of Casey's plastic cups flew past his head and hit the wall behind him.

"Found him," he said.

Casey remembered what Dean said about poltergeists not liking salt. She grabbed the salt shaker and shook some salt into her hand.

"You don't scare me, ghost!" she yelled.

She didn't see John's calculating look behind her.

"Casey," he said, "do you still have all of your stuff packed?"

She nodded.

"Go and grab it. We're going to get you out of here. It's not safe anymore."

"I doubt it ever was," Dean muttered under his breath.

Casey ran upstairs and grabbed her backpack. She ran back downstairs to the others but stopped still when she heard the front door open and slam closed.

"CASEY?! WHERE IS MY MONEY?!"

Casey's eyes grew wide as saucers. She started shaking when she saw her father walk into the room.

"Who are these people?! Why would you let strangers into the house?!"

"They came to help, Daddy. They're here to get rid of the ghost," she said quietly, her voice full of fear.

"What ghost? You and you're stupid imagination. Get these people out of my house, NOW!"

He walked swiftly forward, intending to slap her, but Dean pushed her and Sam back behind himself before he could.

"You don't have the right to yell at her like that, you son of a-"

Dean was thrown into the opposite wall before he could finish his sentence.

Casey screamed and ran to her go-to hiding place: the empty cabinet in the kitchen. She closed the door and plugged her ears so she wouldn't hear what was going on outside.

Even with her ears plugged, she could hear sounds of combat: people being hit, kicked, slapped… she felt horrible for bringing these people to her house. It was her fault they were getting hurt, she reasoned. She should have told them no.

Not a minute later, the cabinet door was ripped off its hinges. Her father's angry face was all she could see. Casey screamed loudly and pushed herself as far back into the cupboard as she could. Before her father could touch her, however, John had pushed him out of the way.

"Dean! Take Sam and Casey and get back to the car!" he shouted.

Dean snatched Casey out of the cabinet and ran with her in his arms, making sure Sam was ahead of him. He unlocked the car and all but shoved Sam inside before climbing in himself with Casey and shutting the door, locking it once more behind him.

Casey was crying. "I'm sorry," she said to Dean.

"Hey, don't apologize. This isn't your fault," he said.

"It's not?"

"Not at all," he assured her. "Not at all."

"I grabbed your backpack," Sam said, handing it to her.

Casey grabbed it and held it to her chest tightly. Everything she owned in the world was in there, and she didn't want to lose it.

Dean saw John run out of the house, the angry father not far behind him. He quickly unlocked the car and tossed the keys to his dad after he slid into the front seat. The car tore away from Casey's house and around the corner, not slowing until they'd reached the main road.

"Where are you taking me?" Casey asked.

"With us," John explained, turning off the main road and into a motel parking lot. "It's definitely not safe for you back there."

"She's staying with us? What about her psycho dad back there?" Dean asked.

"He won't be bothering us. We're leaving town. Now. Grab your things from the room and get back here pronto. Casey, stay in the car."

Casey was too scared to do otherwise. She unzipped her backpack and pulled out her doll, holding it tightly to her.

"It's gonna be okay, Lucy," she said softly. "It's gonna be okay. These people are nice. They're gonna take us away from Daddy so he can't hurt us anymore."

Less than ten minutes later, everybody was back in the car and heading onto the highway.

Casey was squished between Dean and Sam in the backseat, still holding tightly to Lucy. She didn't say a word, and neither did they.

John drove for hours, only stopping once for gas. He didn't leave the highway again until they'd left the state of Montana and made it to North Dakota.

"We'll stop here tonight," he announced, finally pulling off the freeway again. "Then tomorrow, we'll head to Bobby's so we can figure out what to do next."

He stopped at the first motel he saw, pulling into the parking lot and pulling the keys from the ignition.

Casey still didn't say a word.

Dean grabbed his duffel from the backseat and held out his hand for her to take. She looked up at him with big eyes.

"Hey," he said, kneeling in front of her. "What's up?"

"I'm scared," she said softly. "I don't want to be left all alone again."

"You won't be," he promised, pulling her into a hug. "You won't be. I won't leave you alone. Not now, not ever. From now on, you can count on me. You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

"Cause you're a Winchester now, which means you're family. And family doesn't get left behind."