DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural. I wish I did. Or at least had a joint-custody agreement and got to spend time with it every other weekend with supervised visitation. Oh well…

VERY SAD. I'm sorry. I cried too.

SPN Crack Day 5:

Word: Doll

Pairing: Bobby; Dean

Rating: G

Setting: Season 5 (pre 5.15)

Dean hated going up to Bobby's attic – it was dusty and cramped. But the old man was in a wheelchair now, something he was all-too-eager to remind the Winchester brothers of.

That was how the young hunter found himself in the stuffy attic that afternoon, in search of some sort of ancient text that Dean was sure Bobby had probably written himself at the dawn of man.

He grabbed the first book that looked like what the older hunter had described and was just about to run down the ladder when something unusual caught his eye.

It was a baby doll. Like the ones little girls have.

Dean stared at it, his eyebrow raised in confusion. Why on Earth would Bobby Singer have a baby doll in his attic?

It was covered in a thick blanket of dust and its clothes were somewhat moth-eaten. It had probably been up there for thirty years, at least.

He gently lifted the doll from the box she was sitting in, carefully brushing away the grime from her face. A porcelain complexion with rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes.

He sighed, setting the doll back down and taking the book downstairs to Bobby in the kitchen.

The old hunter snatched the book from his hands.

Dean stopped for a second, wondering if he should bring up the doll in the attic.

"You get lost on your way back?" was the only thing Bobby said.

With that, Dean decided not to mention the doll. "Um…"

But the paralyzed man had left, off to read up on whatever it was in that book that would possibly be of use to them in stopping Lucifer.

Several hours later, Dean ran into his brother and nudged him sharply in the ribs with his elbow. "Hey, Sammy… Why would an old man have a baby doll in his attic?"

The gargantuan man who sat at the table looked up at his brother, tilting his head, "Dean – what are you talking about? What – wait a minute, did you just say 'baby doll'?"

Dean opened his mouth to explain but shook his head, "Yeah, 'baby doll', like – You know what? Never mind. Forget I mentioned it."

Sam watched as his brother walked off, shaking his head. "Weird."

Finally, though, Dean realized that he needed to quit dicking around and just talk to Bobby, the last true father figure in his life, about what he had found in the attic.

He ran up the stairs, pulling down the ladder that led to the cramped attic, and dashing up the steps. He headed to the box where he had left the doll and gently scooped her up into his arms, cradling her gently as he went back down the ladder and down to the living room.

Bobby was sitting by a window, shotgun across his lap, and staring out the window like a guard dog when Dean walked up.

The young man rapped his knuckles against the wall to alert Bobby to his presence, "Hey, Bobby… I got something to ask you."

Bobby slowly turned the wheelchair around and gasped when he saw what Dean was holding in his hands. "Where'd you get that, boy?"

Dean hung his head, "I – I wasn't snooping, I swear. I found her when I went and got you that book earlier. I just… I just wanted to ask where she came from."

He held her out to Bobby, whose outstretched hand shakily caress the curve of her cheek before he took her and laid her in his lap.

There was a long silence and Dean was about to turn around and give Bobby a few minutes to himself, but the old man sniffed back tears, "My wife."

Dean looked at Bobby, intrigued, "Your wife's doll?"

Bobby shook his head. "Karen and I – We never had any kids. But, uh, right after we got married, she got pregnant. A baby girl."

The young hunter realized why Bobby had the doll and why he kept it.

But the old man continued, gazing fondly at the doll as he recalled the early years of his marriage. "She was so excited – always wanted a daughter. I was proud as hell, too. I ran out and bought the doll the moment we were told it was a girl. But then she…"

Dean cleared his throat and finished the sentence, "Then she lost the baby, didn't she?"

Bobby nodded. "Karen was so heartbroken. And the doctors told her it was too dangerous for her to try to have any children – that she probably wouldn't be able to carry to term. She kept the doll, though…"

Dean sighed. He put his hand on the other man's shoulder and let it rest there before he decided it was for the best to give Bobby some time alone.

Bobby sat in the dark, caressing the doll's cheek. "I miss you, Karen."