**Disclaimer** I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. I feel like Bobby doesn't get enough fanfiction love, and I also wish they'd gone more into his and Karen's relationship, so this was born.
The study was dark, dimly lit by the fire crackling behind Bobby. He was toying with a glass half filled with cheap whiskey, swirling it so that the amber liquid caught the sparking light. He studied it intently, watching the ice spin and clink against the glass as it rolled in his hand. With a sigh, he tilted it to his mouth and drank it in one burning swallow. He grimaced, but relished the fire as it ran down his throat and warmed his belly. He glanced at the clock: 12:01 a.m. He stood slowly, groaning slightly as he straightened, then grabbed the bottle of whiskey from his desk and walked outside.
The South Dakota sky was clear and he stood on the porch for a moment, leaning against the post and staring up at the bright stars. He never tired of the view, especially on quiet clear nights like this, and it had been one of the reasons he and Karen had picked this house to start with. He slowly made his way across the yard and stopped in front of a worn-out swing. He sat down as he took a swig from the bottle and stared across the yard. An old garden, overgrown by weeds, was still visible. Worn stakes and rusty chicken wire were still standing after all these years, the only remnants of a once lovingly tended garden that had been filled with carefully planted vegetables.
As Bobby stared across the darkened yard at the ravished patch of land, the scene changed into a beautiful, sunny day. Karen was kneeling in front of the tomatoes as she tied them up to the stakes to keep them from falling. There was a stripe of dirt across her nose, and she looked over then and smiled, as if she was looking at him. He raised his hand to wave at her, but the scene faded back to where he was now, dark and grown up, and his hand dropped. He sighed, took another drink from the bottle, and sat it on the ground at his feet.
Bobby slowly reached into his shirt pocket and pulled a yellowed, folded piece of paper. He looked at it for a moment, his fingers sliding along the worn edges, then carefully unfolded it. The words on the page were faded, whether by time or perhaps the amount of times he traced them with his finger, and the creases were so worn they were beginning to tear in places. He stared at the neat, flowing script, the handwriting so familiar that he could close his eyes and still trace it without looking. It wasn't a long letter, short and sweet and to the point, but it said everything.
"Not much for words, were ya Karen? Certainly didn't say it unless it was worth sayin' and when ya did…it packed a helluva punch," he muttered to himself.
My sweet Bobby,
I have considered myself lucky since the moment that I met you. You've given me more than I could have ever asked for, ever since the day you literally ran into me at the hardware shop….
Bobby remembered that day. He had gone into town to get a few parts he was missing and some odds and ends and had ended up at the hardware store. As per usual he couldn't find what he was wanting and had turned the corner faster than he should, grumbling and cursing under his breath. Instead of heading towards the counter like he had intended, he slammed straight into someone and nearly fell. Already in a foul mood, he griped, "Watch where ya goin', ya idjit," before noticing that the person he had so enthusiastically run into was a beautiful woman. She sat in the floor where he had knocked her down, shopping basket in her lap and a look of surprise on her face. "Aw, hell, I'm sorry," he muttered, putting a hand out to help her up. She smiled and took his hand.
"It's alright, I was in a bit of hurry myself," she wiped herself off and held out her hand again. "My name is Karen." Bobby slowly took her hand and grinned.
"Nice to meet ya, Karen. Name's Bobby." She smiled back, and Bobby thought it might just be the prettiest smile he'd ever seen.
We've both grown so much over the years. You're still grumpy and gruff, but you're also compassionate and kind. It's such a beautiful and wonderful combination…you keep my feet on the ground when I need it, but you never stop me from dreaming. You've taught me so much, not just practical things, but how to see the world…even if you didn't realize it. The only thing I could love more than the two of us together, would be to start a little family of our own…
Bobby felt the familiar ache in his chest as he read the line he had read so many times before. It had been the last conversation that they had had before she had been taken from him. It had been their anniversary, and when he'd come home with a bunch of wildflowers he had found in the little meadow outside the church where they'd been married in his hand, he'd noticed that most of the lights were off.
"Karen, baby? Where are ya?" he called softly as he walked through the living room and towards the staircase.
"I'm up here, sweetheart!" Her voice was cheerful, and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He climbed the stairs and pushed the bedroom door open. Karen sat on the bed in a lacy nightgown, the candles on the nightstand making her hair shimmer in the otherwise dark room. A bottle of wine and two filled glasses also sat on the nightstand. "Happy anniversary, Bobby," she said quietly, a smile playing on her lips. Bobby couldn't help by smile back, and he stepped forward to hand her the flowers. He leaned into her and kissed her gently, lingering for a moment so that he could take in the scent of her and how she felt against him. He pulled back and placed a calloused hand on her cheek.
"Happy anniversary to you too, Karen." He sat down next to her and took her hand. "Ya didn't have to do all this, ya know. I'da been perfectly happy just sittin' on the swing with you, watchin' the stars come out."
"I know," she said quietly as she squeezed his hand, "but there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about. But first, can you hand me one of those glasses, please?" Bobby did as she asked, and she took a sip of the dark red liquid before continuing. "This is our fifth anniversary, and I honestly can't believe that much time has passed. It seems like just yesterday that you were knocking my ass down in the hardware store," she laughed. Bobby laughed with her, the memory of the day his life had changed a welcome one. She grew serious and took his hand in hers. "I've been wanting to talk to you about something, Bobby."
"Anything, sweetheart." She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand.
"I think it's time we start a family, Bobby." He stared at Karen with wide eyes, unsure of what to say. She looked at him expectantly, but as the seconds went by, her hope was replaced by worry. "Bobby…say something…"
He sighed, "Karen, honey, I…I don't know. I haven't really given it all that much thought. I don't know that I'd make a very good dad."
She tilted her head in confusion, "Why would you say that, Bobby? You'd make a wonderful father." Bobby had a flash of his father raising his hand to him and his mother, and the subsequent action he had taken against his own father, and grimaced.
"I don't think…you don't know that. I don't know what being a good daddy even looks like, it ain't something I grew up knowin'. I promised myself that I wouldn't be that way, and I can't…I don't know that I could stop it from happenin'."
"What are you talking about? I don't understand…"
Bobby sighed again, "I break everythin' I touch. I'm no good, Karen. I ain't…I ain't cut out to be anybody's daddy. I don't want to put any kids through that. I just…I just don't want any." Karen stood abruptly, grabbed her robe from the end of the bed, and quickly wrapped herself in it. She had begun to cry, and when Bobby tried to put his hand on her arm, she jerked away. One of the glasses of wine fell from the end table and shattered.
"I can't believe you. I hate you. Everything's a lie. Our whole life, our vows… everything. You knew I wanted kids. Why didn't you just sit me down and say… I don't understand! You're a good man. You'd be a good dad. What does that even mean, you break everything you touch?! What kind of excuse is that?!" Bobby was taken aback by her sudden outburst. He had figured she'd be upset when they finally had this conversation, but he didn't expect this.
"Baby, listen, I can explain-" Karen smacked him across the face, hard. She looked at him, horrified at what she'd just done.
"No. Just don't." She tried to walk away, but stepped on the broken glass and cried out in pain. She sat on the bed and Bobby could see the blood pouring from her foot. He tried to reach out to her, but she shoved him away. "Just stay away from me! You broke my heart, Bobby! You happy? Just go away!"
As the memory faded, Bobby felt tears rolling down his cheek. He gruffly wiped them away and looked up at the sky again. "You'd love my boys, Karen. Oh, honey, you'd love 'em. They're a hard-headed coupl'a idjits, don't know damn well when to quit, and the most selfless sons of bitches I ever met. If we'd ever had any boys, I would've wanted them to be like Sam and Dean. I wish you coulda met 'em. They would have loved ya too." He looked back down at the letter.
Bobby, no matter what happens, I will always love and be with you. Don't ever think for one minute that anything could ever change that. Happy anniversary, sweetheart.
Love, Karen
Bobby stared at the last line, just like he did every other time he'd read this letter, and wanted more than anything to go back and change that last conversation. She had refused to speak to him for days, and before he had a chance to apologize to her and explain to her why he felt the way he'd felt, she'd been gone. He realized something was wrong when he'd come downstairs for breakfast before going out to work. He hadn't expected Karen to be in the kitchen, she'd been avoiding him for three days, so when he got close and heard her humming as she cooked, he was surprised. He stood in the door way and watched her as she shimmied around the kitchen, humming way off pitch. As she turned to put biscuits in the oven, she let out a little shriek when she saw Bobby standing against the doorframe.
"Bobby Singer! You could let a girl know when you decide to pop up out of nowhere, for goodness sakes." She slid the tray into the oven, and wiped her hands off on a towel. Bobby looked at her, confused.
She smiled, "I'm doing fine, how are you doing this morning?"
He shrugged, "I'm doin' alright. Are we…are we okay?"
Karen leaned back against the counter, her arms crossed, "I suppose that depends upon your definition of 'okay'." She uncrossed her arms and started walking towards him. "If by okay you mean destroyed by my husband's failure to address my needs and wants then yes, we are okay." Bobby stumbled backwards away from her, uncertain as to what to do or who was standing in front of him. It was Karen, it was unmistakably Karen, but at the same time it wasn't.
"Karen, baby, I'm sorry, I know that that was important to you-"
"Important?!" she screeched, her face contorting into an almost unrecognizable mask. "You knew from the beginning this is what I wanted! I told you." She slammed her fists into Bobby's chest, and he fell back against the door frame. She was strong, she'd always been strong, but this…this was different. "We have been together for years and not once did you think to tell me you didn't want this? Fuck you." She shoved him hard and he stumbled over his feet and hit the ground. Bobby sat shocked. He had heard Karen say all sorts of things, she could peel the paint off the wall if she was in the right mood, but never in the years that he'd been with her had those words been directed at him. She glared at him for a moment, then spun and made her way back to the counter. He watched as she slowly pulled a knife out of the butcher block and turned back to face him.
"Karen, what are you doing?"
She laughed, and gave him a cold smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "What I should have done a long time ago. You were right, Bobby. You aren't fit to be anybody's daddy. You aren't fit to be anyone's anything."
Bobby shuffled himself backward and tried to pull himself out of the floor, "Karen, please, I didn't mean to hurt you, we can talk about this…" Karen yelled. She didn't yell anything in particular, just a low, guttural shout that shook Bobby to his core.
"I am done talking." He managed to scramble out of the floor but she had rushed him and now had him pinned against the staircase. The knife was pointed dangerously close to his throat, and as he stared into her eyes, they turned black.
"You aren't Karen," he breathed, fighting the urge to shove her backwards.
She laughed, "Oh, I'm Karen. I'm new and improved Karen. All these words, they're hers. She just didn't have the courage to say them. You're a coward, Bobby. She would never have told you that, but you're a damn coward. You were right about one thing though; you aren't fit to be anyone's father. Your father was an alcoholic piece of shit that beat his wife and son, and you're one cheap glass of whiskey from being the same way. I may as well do the world a favor and put you out of your misery." Tears filled Bobby's eyes as she went on. He knew it wasn't really her, but just watching the words fall out of her mouth was enough to almost kill him.
"Karen, honey, that ain't you," he choked out, "Baby, can you hear me?" Karen backhanded him hard across the mouth.
"Shut up," she snarled. She pulled back for a moment and stared at him. Before he could move, she came at him with knife and it took everything he had to hold her back. She managed to cut him with a couple of well-aimed blows, and for a moment he didn't think he'd be able to stop her from doing more damage. She was so strong; whatever was going on, it wasn't his Karen, and he tried to remember that as he grabbed the knife and somehow managed to wrestle it away from her. She screamed again and lunged for his neck. Without thinking, he swung out with the knife and his eyes widened as the knife sunk into her chest with a sickening sound. She stumbled backwards, looked down at the freely bleeding wound, and glared at Bobby.
"Really? And this was such a nice meat suit, you just had to go and ruin it. That knife isn't going to hurt me." She came at him again, but this time he was ready and he drove forward and swung the knife downward again, this time hitting right where her heart should be. They fell into a heap on the floor and Karen rolled away from him and back on her feet. Bobby was kneeling, and as she sized him up again, he sprung from his position on the floor, knocked her back into the wall, and began stabbing her over and over.
"Get outta my wife! I dunno what you are, but you sure as hell ain't Karen and I ain't gonna let you ride her around like a puppet." She began laughing.
"Oh Bobby, that little pig sticker isn't going to help you." He had tired himself out, and Karen noticed. She managed to wrestle the knife back away from him and shoved him backwards. He fell to the floor, sobbing, and looked up at his disheveled, bloody wife.
"Karen…please, sweetheart…" Just as she raised the knife to finish him off, the front door flew open with a bang.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…" Karen snarled and looked over. A man that looked to be about Bobby's age was coming through the door, a shotgun in hand.
"How dare you…" she growled. The man smiled dangerously at her, but did not stop whatever it was he was reciting.
"…omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,
omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…" Karen began writhing, her eyes flashing between black and her beautiful blue ones. Her grip on the knife had loosened, and she was just barely hanging on to it. Bobby shoved himself back into the corner and watched with wide, scared eyes.
"Ergo, draco maledicte…"
"Don't you dare, Rufus. Even if you do this, I will find you. I will find you and tear you apart piece by piece. I will drag your soul to hell and make sure your torment never ends. I will end you."
Rufus laughed, "Honey, my torment hasn't ended for quite some time. So why don't you do both of us a favor and shut the hell up?" He turned to look at Bobby and smiled sadly. "I'm awful sorry 'bout this, man. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos." With a screech, Karen's head tilted back and a stream of choking, black smoke came out of her mouth. As soon as it was gone, she collapsed to the floor and was silent. Bobby crawled over to her.
"No, no, no…baby, wake up, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He cradled her gently against his chest. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment and met his. She smiled, but before he could say anything to her, her eyes slipped shut and she was gone. "No…Karen, please. I'm sorry, I didn't…I didn't know what to do." He gently brushed her hair away from her face, and looked up at the man who had saved him. "What…what happened?"
Rufus sighed, "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner, man. I'd been chasin' that thing since Alabama. It should have been an easy job, he was one sly mother-"
Bobby interrupted him, "What was that thing?" Rufus looked at him for a moment, debating on whether to tell him the truth. He'd seen enough, so lying to him now probably wouldn't have helped. Rufus decided to go with the truth.
"It was a demon."
Bobby stared at the letter for a moment longer, then carefully refolded it and slipped it back into his pocket. The air had become chilly and he'd begun to wish he'd worn his coat, but as he swung back and forth, the coldness almost felt good against the flush he felt from the alcohol. He bent down and retrieved the bottle he'd brought with him and gulped down one last, burning sip. It was getting late, and the boys would be getting in early in the morning. Their hunt had brought them close by, and he knew from experience that instead of resting, they would drive through the night and come stumbling in the house half asleep and bickering with each other. It seemed like they might be case free this time, and Bobby was glad. He was getting tired.
He looked back at the garden again, and the vision of Karen returned. She smiled at him, and although he knew it was only a daydream, he smiled back. He stood slowly, his body sore from sitting in the old swing for so long, and looked up at the sky again.
"Happy anniversary, darlin'."