Sam beamed at Bobby as he was wheeled into the ER's cubicle and then zeroed in on his big brother.

"Dean!"

Dean crossed to the four-year old, eager to get his hands on his kid and to hear how things went during Sam's solo trip down to radiology.

"Hey, Sammy. You okay?"

"Mmhmm," Sam nodded, smiling up at his brother as he continued to sit in the wheelchair. "Mr. Matt was super careful. And Dr. Avery was super nice. And the other lady taking the pictures was super fast. "

Dean nodded his approval. "Sounds like a good time."

Sam returned the nod, so jazzed about his adventure down to radiology that he seemed to forget that his arm was broken.

"And guess what?"

Dean blinked expectantly.

"I was so good, they gave me a lollipop! But I told them I didn't want it unless you could have one, too."

The four-year old paused, pulling his left hand from behind his back and waving three lollipops.

"Purple for me 'cause I like grape. And red for you 'cause you like cherry...right?"

"Right," Dean confirmed, ruffling Sam's hair and feeling a warmth spread through his chest, reminded of how much he loved his sweet kid. "But who's this one for?" he asked, pointing to the orange lollipop in the four-year old's grasp.

Sam glanced shyly at Bobby and smiled.

Bobby smiled back. "You're too good to me, squirt."

Sam giggled and then gasped when Matt crossed around the wheelchair and reached for him.

Dean frowned. "I've got him," he told the orderly, knowing the man hadn't meant to bump Sam's right arm...but still not wanting the man to touch his brother.

"Sorry," Matt apologized, watching as Dean lifted the four-year old and settled Sam on the bed before climbing up beside him.

"Can we eat 'em?" Sam asked about the lollipops he continued to hold in his left hand.

"Later," Dean promised and passed the suckers to Bobby for safe keeping.

Bobby accepted them as he stood, setting them on the counter behind him and hoping they didn't forget them when they left the ER.

"Okay, gentlemen..." Dr. Avery sighed as she rounded the corner with Sam's chart. "Thanks, Matt," she told the orderly as he turned to leave.

Matt waved and rolled the wheelchair to the cubicle two doors down.

"As you've probably already heard, Sam did really well down in radiology," Dr. Avery reported. "Had all the nurses wrapped around his finger before he left..."

Bobby snorted, not surprised.

Dean smiled, always proud whenever anyone complimented his kid.

"I've had a chance to quickly review his films, but I wanted to show you," the doctor continued, shaking one of the x-rays to stiffen it before placing it over the lighted display on the wall.

The black-and-white film revealed the outline of a small arm and the shadowy bones within.

"This is your arm, Sam," Dr. Avery told her patient and smiled at the awestruck expression on the four-year old's face. "I know. Pretty cool."

She turned her attention to Bobby.

"Our theory was right," she pointed out, holding her finger over a broken portion of Sam's radius. "He sustained a greenstick fracture as you can see right here."

Bobby nodded, indeed seeing the place where Sam's bone had fractured...but not completely.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"A greenstick fracture?"

Dean nodded at the doctor.

"Well, it's when a bone bends and cracks, instead of breaking completely into separate pieces. This type of broken bone most commonly occurs in children because their bones are softer and more flexible than adult bones."

Dean nodded again.

"In some cases, a greenstick fracture can be difficult to diagnose because there may not be much pain or swelling," Dr. Avery continued to explain. "But in Sam's case, the fracture is a little more severe, as we can see from the way the bone actually curves as a result of the break. Plus..."

She shifted her attention from the x-ray to her patient.

"There is a moderate amount of swelling and pain."

Sam nodded in agreement, because his arm definitely hurt.

In fact, in the excitement of wheelchair rides and pictures being taken and lollipops, the four-year old had briefly forgotten about the throbbing that started in his wrist and ran up his arm and over his shoulder.

But now...

Sam shifted uncomfortably on the mattress as he was reminded of the pain and glanced at Dean.

The big brother swept Sam's bangs from his eyes, knowing what his kid wanted. "She's gonna fix it," he assured his little brother about his arm and then pinned the doctor with a stare. "She's gonna fix it right now."

Bobby snorted at the degree of Dean's nonexistent subtlety.

Dr. Avery smiled, catching the drift. "Well, I don't normally do the casting..."

After all, she was a specialist and had other patients who needed her expertise.

But these kids were cute...and their uncle as an HSRB inspector...and what the hell...she could spend a few extra minutes to cast Sam's arm.

"Okay," she told them with a shrug and moved around the room, gathering her materials.

Seconds later, the doctor was gloved up and carefully slipping Sam's right arm into a cotton stocking, then wrapping it with more cotton; unrolling several layers to cover his thin arm.

Sam wrinkled his nose against the pain, reaching for Dean with his left hand.

"You're doing good," the big brother murmured, squeezing the four-year old's fingers.

"You sure are," Bobby agreed, having crossed to the opposite side of the bed for a better view of the casting process.

Dr. Avery nodded, snipping the cotton and taping it in place. "I'm just thankful that the break wasn't so severe that it required the bones to be straightened and realigned before the cast could be done."

Sam blinked...because that sounded really painful.

Dr. Avery smiled at the four-year old's reaction and reached for the roll of white plaster, dunking it in the bowl of water before squeezing out the excess moisture and beginning to unroll it on top of the layers of cotton.

"It's hot," Sam complained, trying to pull his arm away.

Dean frowned. "Are you burning him?"

"No," Dr. Avery assured. "The plaster heats up in order to harden and set into a cast, so it's normal to feel a little heat. It'll begin to cool in a few minutes."

"I don't like it," Sam declared but stayed still, watching the doctor go 'round and 'round his arm, crossing his palm and tucking the plaster between his fingers and thumb.

"Almost done..." Dr. Avery commented, finally finishing the roll and smoothing the plaster in place as she folded down the cotton padding sticking out around Sam's hand.

She paused, stepping back to survey her work while washing and drying her hands.

"Is that it?" Dean asked, also checking out the cast that now surrounded his little brother's arm.

"That's it," Dr. Avery replied, making a note in Sam's chart. "It'll harden in a few minutes, but it actually takes about 48 hours for the plaster to completely set. So, he'll need to be extra careful for the next couple of days."

"He will be," Dean assured, already planning to watch his little brother like a proverbial hawk.

Bobby smiled, sharing the same plan about the four-year old. "And cover it during baths?"

"Yes," the doctor confirmed. "If at all possible, don't let the cast get wet. But he can use the sling he was wearing earlier to help with support."

Bobby nodded, grabbing the sling from the edge of the bed where it had been discarded when the doctor had first arrived and tucking it in his back pocket.

"I'm not going to prescribe pain medication, since children's Motrin should be adequate to handle any pain. Just pay attention to dosing instructions and administer as often as he needs it."

Bobby and Dean both nodded at the doctor's orders about their youngest.

She smiled.

"Tonight...and probably the next couple of nights...he'll need to sleep with his arm on a pillow, just to help reduce swelling. But other than that, he should be good to go."

Dr. Avery smiled at her patient and gave one last check to the cast, satisfied that it was setting up properly.

"It was nice to meet you, Sam," she told the four-year old. "I'm sorry you had a rough morning, but I'm sure you'll heal up with no problem."

Sam smiled and yawned, leaning his head against Dean's shoulder. "Thank you."

Dr. Avery nodded at this polite little cutie. "My pleasure." She glanced at Dean. "You take good care of your brother."

"I always do."

The doctor nodded again, not doubting that, and glanced at Bobby.

"Inspector, I'm sorry for whatever happened at the receptionist desk earlier, but I hope the rest of your visit has been satisfactory."

"It has," Bobby assured, once again grasping the doctor's outstretched hand.

"I'm glad. That's what I like to hear." Dr. Avery smiled, then gestured over her shoulder at Sam. "The cast will need to come off in six weeks," she told Bobby. "Maybe less, depending on how quickly Sam heals."

"I'll keep a check on it," Bobby replied, having past experience with monitoring broken bones...and removing casts.

"Good," Dr. Avery returned, gathering Sam's chart. "You three take care," she told them and smiled, her gaze flickering between Bobby and the kids before she left the room.

Bobby sighed, watching her go and then refocusing on his boys. "Who's ready to go home?"

"Me!" both brothers answered in unison.

Bobby chuckled. "Same here," he agreed and lifted Sam into his arms as Dean jumped down from the bed.

"Don't forget our lollipops..." Sam warned, pointing at the candy still on the counter.

"I got 'em," Dean replied, grabbing the suckers and following behind Bobby.

"Can we have hotdogs for lunch?" Sam asked as they left the hospital, crossing the parking lot and heading toward Bobby's truck.

"I think I can arrange that," Bobby drawled, always keeping hotdogs and buns stocked at his house because he knew the four-year old loved to eat them.

"And then after lunch, it's gonna be naptime for Sammy..." Dean added, settling in the passenger seat and carefully pulling the four-year old toward him.

Sam sighed, leaning against his brother. "Okay," he agreed, his lack of resistance testifying to his exhaustion. "Will you nap with me?"

Dean pulled a face as Bobby cranked the truck. "Sam. Eight-year old's don't nap."

"Please?"

Bobby chuckled, knowing Dean would do whatever Sam wanted...and knowing that Dean had already planned to stick close to the kid, the big brother determined to keep watch over the injured four-year old.

Dean sighed. "Maybe."

Sam smiled – recognizing that "maybe" as a "yes" – and nestled closer to his brother, his fingers smoothing over the plaster of his cast.

Dean noticed. "How's your arm?"

"It doesn't burn anymore," Sam reported. "But it still kinda hurts."

Dean nodded. "You can take some Motrin with lunch."

Bobby nodded his agreement. "Absolutely. And then we'll set you up with a pillow. Help some of that swelling go down..."

"'Kay," Sam yawned, feeling safe and loved; the four-year old knowing his big brother and his Uncle Bobby would take care of him.

"And then later..." Dean continued. "I'm gonna draw all kinds of stuff on your cast."

Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What kind of stuff? Good stuff?"

"Surprise stuff," Dean corrected, having big plans for the blank canvas of all that white plaster.

Sam's expression was still unsure but he sighed, feeling drowsy as he rested against Dean.

Dean rubbed his brother's shoulder out of habit; always calmer whenever Sam was beside him, whenever he could touch his kid.

There was silence as they rode, traveling back to Singer Salvage.

"Can we have our lollipops now?" Sam asked, suddenly spying the candy on the dash where Dean had stashed them.

Dean glanced at Bobby, seeking his advice.

The older hunter shrugged. "Why not?"

After all, it had been a rough morning for all of them, and a lollipop wasn't going to spoil their appetites for lunch.

"Okay," Dean agreed, opening and distributing the suckers.

Orange for Bobby...purple for Sam...and red for him.

"Mmm..." Sam hummed as he held the sucker in his left cheek. "S'good."

Dean nodded.

Bobby did the same.

Silence settled once again in the truck cab as they enjoyed their treats and rode.

Bobby thinking about preparing lunch and then tackling the research that had piled up back at the house.

Dean thinking about cleaning up his little brother from his fall, making sure the kid ate a decent amount of his noontime meal, and then was medicated and comfortable during his nap.

And Sam was snuggled between them, knowing that he was a lucky kid and that having a big brother like Dean and an uncle like Bobby was better than anything...even better than being Batman.

END