Ok, so this is something that has been floating around my muse for a while now. I have two other projects I'm working on, but I thought this would be kind of a fun little one shot. Plus I had a minute while waiting on something so I jotted it down.

Not sure if anyone else had to do it, but when I was in high school I carried a little doll around for a day. You had to insert a key in its back when it started crying (which it would do randomly) to simulate feeding it, changing it, whatever. It was the most annoying little thing in the world, you had to hold the key in until it stopped. It was supposed to remind you why you didn't want to be sleeping with every guy in the school. Was supposed to teach you why you didn't want to become pregnant, or why you didn't want to get your girlfriend pregnant.

Well I thought it would be funny if Dean had to carry one of the little suckers around…and just maybe his graduation depends on it. But what happens when his dad demands Dean and Sam accompany him on a quick salt and burn? It sounds simple enough, plus he can't just leave the thing…

Location: Dillon, MT…ghosts in Bannack, MT

-John has temporarily put down roots in Dillon so Dean can graduate high school

-I wanted a more friendly John (not for him to be the bad guy) haha so here he's a little more fatherly. Ready? 1…2…3…awwww :D

Ages: Dean 18, Sam 13 (It's about Feb/Mar…Sam hasn't had his bday yet before you math whizzes jump on me lol)

Disclaimer: The boys aren't mine, never will be, but that doesn't mean I can't steal them once in a while. Kripke will never know they were gone…heh heh heh…no infringement intended, only fun. I don't look good in orange so don't come after me.

"Oh come on Dean, its funny."

"Shut up, it is not."

"But look at it…it's so cute!" Sam reached forward and pinched the thing's little plastic cheeks. "Goo goo goo!" Sam cooed, his eyes tearing as he began to laugh even harder.

"That's it, you're dead!" Dean yelled as he launched himself at Sam. The boys went down in a tangle of limbs, punches and kicks flying. Dean grabbed a fist of Sam's hair and was preparing to show him cute, when a wailing stopped them short.

"You better do something about that, Dad!" Another round of laughter. Dean dug his elbow into his brother's stomach as he rolled off of him. The "oomph" was payback enough.

"Now where the hell did I put that?" Dean asked himself as he searched through the pockets of his backpack. It continued to wail, grating on his nerves, pissing him off. When the key was no where to be found, he began to search through the pockets of his coat, his jeans. Nothing.

It continued to cry, its loud mechanical voice obnoxious in the silence of the room. That's when Dean noticed something was wrong. It was quiet…no Sammy laughter. Spinning on his heels he found the above mentioned standing in the doorway, waving the key.

Dean hadn't felt Sam's little pick-pocket while they were fighting, and he barely registered the smirk on Sam's face before he was hauling ass down the hallway, key in hand. The baby continued to cry.

"He is so dead," Dean sneered as he took off after Sam's fading footsteps. Mrs. Kulwinski's Home Ec class was one of the few classes he was actually doing fairly well in. He'd been one of the better cooks in the class, and his sewing project had been the best.

Plus he liked Mrs. Kulwinski. She had sat with him one afternoon as he served his time in detention. He didn't even remember what he was there for, only that they had sat and bullshitted till it was time to go. She was the only teacher who had accepted his late homework after the whole water demon hunt. She seemed to genuinely care.

But he needed this A to keep his GPA up, graduation wasn't that far away. If he failed the baby project, the biggest grade of the year, the rest of the semester was screwed, and he'd have to put in overtime in one of his other less favorable classes. He couldn't afford another F, and he wasn't sure he could raise any of the other classes up. Being a senior sucked…and Sam was so dead.

The baby continued to wail, reminding Dean that the little chip inside the damn thing was recording how long it would take him to put the key in. He would get docked for negligence in about 30 seconds. He wondered if Sam would prefer cremation or slow roast.

The giggling was hard to miss. He found Sam behind the dresser in their father's room, his already too long legs jutting out. Dean crept up and studied his brother. Sam was curled into a tiny ball, his head resting on the wall, while his ass jutted out. Bringing his foot back, he kicked Sam as hard as he could in his right cheek.

The giggling stopped as Sam yelped in pain. Muscle memory kicked in and Sam was in a fighting stance before it dawned on him that Dean had attacked him. He didn't have much time to dwell on it as Dean's arm arched towards him, aiming for his throat. Sam ducked and laughed as he danced out of Dean's reach, but it wasn't far enough.

A powerful forearm encircled his throat. "Give. Me. The fucking. Key." Dean growled in his ear. His vision grew fuzzy as bright spots danced in his vision. Deciding he'd toyed with angry Dean long enough, he forked over the key.

The air had never seemed as sweet as he gulped in a lungful. He remained in his father's room until he heard the crying cease, and he knew Dean was preoccupied. He didn't know what it was about this project, but he decided not to mess with it anymore. He was pretty sure Dean would have choked him into unconsciousness if he hadn't handed over the key.

He smiled as he walked into the living room, intent on finishing his own report. He would definitely have to file it away for later use…

-

"Boys. Here. Now," John yelled as he inventoried his bag once more. If they went now they could be back before midnight. He knew Sam had a test that morning, and Dean had a speech to give. He hadn't intended on involving himself in any more hunts. Dean had promised that if they could just stop moving for a few months, he would put forth the effort to graduate. They were in Dillon at the time, stalking a nasty water demon. The locals were convinced they had their own Nessie. John chuckled at the thought, and the memory on a few of the local's faces as he informed them Nessie was dead.

The conservationists had protested loudly, saying Nessie had a right to live. The protests had died down after they realized no one was drowning anymore.

With the demon gone, the boys and their father had made a deal. They would both finish out the school year with flying colors while John took a much needed break. Then that nasty little girl had shown up in Bannack, a ghost town not far from Dillon.

"You got it?" he asked his youngest as Sam entered the small kitchen first.

"Yes sir," he replied as he handed his father a detailed report of the killer ghost. It was rumored that a girl in a long blue dress would appear above the saloon, and she was spotted by many tourists as they visited the small abandoned town.

"Thatta boy," John said as he studied the facts. Sam had done well. The girl's name, age, burial place, it was all there.

Dean trailed slowly behind, shrugging into his faded leather jacket. One that was rapidly becoming too small.

Maybe if he graduates I'll get him a new one, John thought as he continued to study the report put together by Sam.

"Get a move on guys, this'll be a simple job," John said, already gathering up his supplies and striding to the door. The boys followed when suddenly Dean's project began to cry again.

"Uh oh Dean, you better bring Dean Jr," Sam poked, grinning again. He couldn't help himself, this was just too much fun.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled as he turned and ran back down the hall.

Sam was seated in the passenger seat of the Impala, while John sat behind the wheel. His face dissolved into a scowl when he spied the small bundle Dean was carrying.

"What the hell is that?" he asked as Dean climbed into the back seat.

"My school project, I can't exactly leave it."

"Well you can't bring it," John said, already pulling away from the curb.

The ride to the Park entrance was a quick one, and to Dean's relief the doll had already stopped crying by the time they pulled in.

"It's a hike to the town, and once we're there we have to move fast," John briefed as they all approached the fence.

John was over the fence, and was turning to help Sam down when the baby began to wail again.

Dean shot an apologetic look at his father. "I have to," he called over his shoulder as he jogged back to the car to retrieve the pain in the ass. He knew his dad would kick his ass if he failed another class, so it looked like he'd be taking it with him.

I'll never bang another chick as long as I live, Dean vowed.

His father and brother were already halfway up the first trail by the time Dean caught up, the key firmly placed in the doll's back.

"You sure your graduation depends on this?" John asked as he eyed the doll.

"Pretty much," Dean answered, turning to key to see if the baby had stopped crying. It hadn't. With a sigh he turned it again and held it.

"You're going to have to shut that thing up once we get up there, we don't want it to act as an alarm," John scolded, quickly slipping into hunter mode as they approached the edge of the town. This should be a simple hunt, but he knew simple could turn in an instant.

Before they were in the thick of it, Dean tested the key again. The baby had stopped. He smiled as he neared a small tree. He decided the doll would be safe there, and he could pick it up on the way back out.

"Alright, the grave is over next to the hotel, the one her family owned," Sam said quietly as they all scanned the darkness. Finally John spotted the small cemetery.

"I guess the whole family was buried here," Dean said, matching Sam's tone.

"Dean, let's start digging. Sam, you keep an eye out for our friend," John said, handing a shovel to Dean and a can of salt to Sam. Dean eyed the can, knowing that on many occasions it had failed them. By the time the ghost was in striking distance, it was too close. Some day Dean swore he would find a way to make a weapon out of the salt.

He concentrated on it while they began to dig. And hour later, they were both sore and tired, sweaty and grungy, but staring at the coffin that housed little Ellie Mae Miller.

Sam sat perched on the rotted porch of the hotel, salt still held at ready. John began to strike at the coffin, shattering the lid and exposing the bones.

All was stopped at Sam's sudden "holy crap".

"Sam, what is it?" John asked, looking around.

All three Winchesters were stopped short as they spied their ghost. She stood about 200 yards away, clutching something.

"Son of a bitch," Dean swore as he realized what it was. The bitch had his doll. She was rocking it in her arms, shushing it.

That's when they realized it was crying again.

"God damnit Dean!" John cussed as he began to bury the small corpse in salt. The ghost let out a wail as the salt began to purify her bones.

Angry eyes fixed on them then, and they knew there were screwed.

"Sprinkle faster!" Sam yelled to his dad as he jumped off the porch and he readied his own can of salt.

"Calm down Sam, Dean, keep your eyes on her. Where the fuck did those matches go?" John barked out as he entrusted his sons with keeping the ghost busy.

The girl was flying towards them then, an unnatural speed eating up the distance between them. She flickered once, but continued on.

Come on Dad, Dean fidgeted as he heard the sounds of lighter fluid being forced out of the bottle.

The girl was still flying towards them, that damned doll still clutched in her hands.

"Any time would be a good time!" Dean yelled as his growing panic was voiced. She looked downright pissed, and all that stood between her and her threat was Sam and Dean.

The sound of phosphorus striking phosphorus was welcoming, and the slight smell of burning lighter fluid was a relief.

The little girl screamed as she burned up in mid flight, her spirit disappearing not five feet from the boys.

Everything slowed for Dean as he watched his Home Ec project go flying. It somersaulted in the air, just out of his reach as he tried to grab it.

"No!" Dean screamed as the doll hit the ground and bounced, landing in the now burning grave. His desperation clouded his ability to rationalize, and he would have followed the dolls descent into the grave if it hadn't been for his dad's hands grabbing him.

Thoughts of graduating slowly slid down the drain in Dean's eyes. How the hell was he supposed to lie and cheat his way out of this one?? The project required a typed report, and a doll still intact.

He was going to fail for sure.

The hunters sat and waited for the small grave to burn itself out.

"Sorry Dean," John said as he dug around the ashes, and pulled out the charred baby. He placed the burnt chunk of plastic into Dean's hands, and watched as his son's face fell.

"Holy crap Dean. You better get started on that Math extra credit," Sam cracked, failing to notice his brother's solemn expression.

"Not funny Sam. Now you get to cover the grave back up," John said as he handed Sam Dean's discarded shovel.

John shook his head as Sam opened his mouth to protest. "Yes sir," he said quietly, and got to work.

Dean stood, still holding the crispy plastic ball, his mind racing. Every imaginable story he could come up with sounded ridiculous and unbelieveable.

He was screwed.

-

"Mrs. K?" Dean asked, his knuckles lightly rapping the door.

"Dean! Come on in. How's that project coming along? Is it ready for presentation tomorrow?"

Dean's head bowed for a moment, his eyes failing to meet hers.

"Everything alright?" Mrs. K asked as she finished wiping the dry-erase board clean.

Dean shook his head, words failing him at the moment. He'd been up all night, and an excuse failed him.

He set his backpack on one of the desks towards the front, his hands shaking slightly as he tugged at the zipper. All he could think about was how disappointed his father was going to be when Dean failed to graduate. All he could think about was how disappointed Mrs. K was going to be. Then he wondered if it was that hard to obtain a GED.

Mrs. K didn't make a sound at first as Dean pulled out the melted chunk of plastic that once resembled his A.

"Is that…?" she asked, letting the question trail off. She already knew the answer to that one.

"Yes ma'am," Dean answered solemnly. He was so screwed.

"Well…I must say this is a first."

"Well, you see, what happened was-"

"I don't want to know," Mrs. K said, cutting him off. Dean met her gaze, expecting to see disappointment and anger. Instead he found her eyes were twinkling, almost full of humor.

Then, she did something that caught Dean off guard. She burst into laughter. Still too traumatized at the thought of not graduating, Dean couldn't join in on her laughter. Instead he cocked his head and waited for her laughter to die down.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But only you could bring it back in this condition." When her joke still failed to amuse Dean, she realized how upset he really was about this.

"So I guess I can forget about ordering my cap and gown, huh?" Dean said, trying to assess his predicament.

"I wouldn't say that just yet," Mrs. K said, confusing Dean once more. "I tell you what, you just write your report for tomorrow, bring me a plate of your awesome chocolate chip cookies, and we'll take care of this."

Dean left the classroom, still confused but hopeful.

-

"So in conclusion, there will be no little Dean's running around any time soon," Dean said, smiling as the class chuckled at his little joke.

"Thank you Dean," Mrs. Kulwinski said, motioning for him to sit.

"Alright class, I have a special presentation for you," she began as Dean was seated. "Something very interesting happened last night. After Dean turned in his doll, I decided to give the project a go myself. I mean, it can't be that tough, can it?" She pulled out the lump of black plastic, eliciting a gasp from the students.

"And that is why there will be no little Kulwinskis running around anytime soon." The class burst into laughter and applause, completely missing the shared look between Dean and their teacher.

'Thank you' he mouthed, grinning. She winked at him, and nodded slightly.

The bell rang, releasing the students for lunch. Dean approached the teacher's desk, lightness in his chest that he hadn't felt since he'd watched the baby sail into the burning grave.

"Why did you…?" Dean asked, still wondering why he wasn't facing total failure.

"Well Dean, I see something in you. You have the potential to shine, you really do. Now forgive me for getting all mushy on you, but you are truly the one student I expect to excel at in life. I have one every year, and I decided this year it's you.

I also expect that the road you're on isn't an easy one, wherever you might be headed. You don't need the hardships added on just because you couldn't bring a doll back unharmed. Plus I want a rose from you at graduation."

A moment of silence passed before they both shared a laugh.

"Just promise me one thing," Mrs. Kulwinski said as Dean turned to leave.

"What's that?"

"Promise me that if someday soon, if there are any little Dean's running around, that you'll keep them away from fire."

Now only if I could have burned my doll...hahahahahahahaha...hope ya'll enjoyed.