Gooooooooood Morning fabulous SPN Family! May I just say you are fantastic?

So surprise! Another update. I'm going to try to update a lot this week because 1. I feel guilty going so long before this not posting, and 2. I'm trying to get to chapter 50 by Natalie's birthday this Monday. Fingers crossed and I'll do it!

This chapter is super special to me, because it was co-written by the fabulous and talented Jenmm31. She wrote all of Dean's lines, a good chunk of Sam's, and some fantastic snappy one-liners, both funny and heartwarming. If you haven't before, please go show her some love and check out her stories- they're wonderful. I just couldn't get this story line off the ground, but she made it soar :)

Thank you thank you thank you for all the reviews- seriously, I love you guys. You're just the best. Thank you.

A/N- in this story, Natalie is 4. Please see profile page for disclaimer.

The time on the radio said 2 am, right on the button, but the Impala was still going as strong as if it had been 5 pm. The Winchester Brothers were returning from a successful witch-hunt. A small coven had been terrorizing this town for about a month when the boys got wind of it and came rolling in. However, these witches had put up an almighty fight on their way out. Sam shifted uncomfortably in the passenger's seat, feeling his many cuts and bruises, as well as the slicing pain in his side. "Man, those were some nasty pieces of work," he grumbled, referring to the witches and trying not to reopen any injuries that had happened to close since the fight.

Sam's uncomfortable shifting did not go unnoticed by Dean's trained eye. "Witches, man," he said with a shake of his head in disgust. He glanced at Sam and tried to ask casually. "They get you pretty good there?" Dean knew that Sam had gone toe to toe with one member of the coven who had been unusually handy with a switchblade. Sam shrugged it off, not wanting his big brother to worry anymore than he usually did.

"Gonna need a couple stitches, but it's not bad," he confessed before worriedly looks at Dean. "You?"

Dean still gave him the once over with his x-ray vision, but he could tell Sam was telling the truth. "Other than these beauty marks, I'm good as new," he quipped, indicating a nasty shiner on his right eye and a small cut on his cheek, now crusty with dried blood. The knife had barely grazed him when he had come to help Sam out, but that bastard still drew blood. Freaking witches.

Sam nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket, rereading the text that he had received about two hours ago. "Well, Connie said Natalie finally went down around midnight, so we'll send her on home and get cleaned up quietly." Connie was the sweet 60-something year old lady who had offered to watch Natalie while the boys were on the case. Her next-door neighbors had been victims of the witches, so she was only too happy to help the brothers in any way that she could. Her sweet smile and uncanny resemblance to Mrs. Claus had made Natalie take a shine to the lady immediately.

Dean shook his head at Sam's words. So Natalie managed to stall bedtime yet again. He couldn't help but grin thinking about what fast ones she must have pulled on the grandmotherly lady in order to stay up that late. The kid was a ninja at getting out of bedtime.

After putting his phone away, Sam rolled his wrist, his fists aching. It had been a while since he got in a legit fist fight. After the one witch lost his switchblade to Dean, he had come back up swinging. Sam snorted and shook his head, replaying the fight in his mind. "You know for a minute there, I thought those witches were getting the upper hand," he chuckled, glad that he could laugh about it now.

Dean flashed him his cocky grin. "Nah, Sammy. No witch is going to get the upper hand on me."

Sam grinned back. "On us, man. On us." They pulled up to the motel. All the lights were off except one soft glow in their motel room window. Another quick glance at the clock- 2:15. Sam rubbed his eyes, still wincing at the pain in his side. He immediately pressed the old towel that he had been using to soak up the blood back into his side. Both boys got out and tried to shut Baby's doors as quietly as they could before walking up to their motel room door.

Dean gently knocked before turning the key in the lock. They had agreed beforehand that they would do that so Connie would know it was them when they returned. Couldn't be too careful. As they entered the room, the sweet little lady put down her book of crosswords and came over to them immediately. She pressed a finger to her lips, then pointed at the small, gently breathing child on the sofa. As she got nearer to them, her face morphed into concern at their grisly appearance.

"Oh dear," she said, examining them both. "You boys look a little worse for the wear."

"Yeah, well, you should see the other guy," Dean said with a half smile. He looked over at Sam again- he needed to stitch his brother up sooner rather than later. Once Connie closed the door behind them, he pulled out his billfold to grab some cash. He said quietly, "How did it go?" He glanced towards the couch to sneak a peek at his kid, as did Connie. She smiled, and then looked back at Dean.

"Oh, we just had the best time. We read all her books- she just couldn't seem to get enough of them!" she gushed quietly, having enjoyed reading to the eager little girl. Behind her back, however, Sam exchanged a quick glance with Dean- it was Natalie's patented distraction technique. He rolled his eyes before Connie continued. "She didn't seem to want to sleep. She just told me over and over that she wasn't tired. But she eventually gave up and went down around midnight. Little butter bean is a spit fire, isn't she?" she said, seeming to hold her chuckle back, but the sparkle in her eye told the boys that she didn't really mind the hyperactive monkey she'd babysat.

Dean nodded grimly. "Oh she's a spit fire all right. I'm glad she behaved for you." Knowing Natalie, it could have been a lot worse trying to get the kid to bed. He held out the money for Connie to take as he made a mental note to talk to his daughter yet again about stalling bedtime for the babysitter. "Thank you for helping us out. I appreciate you watching the monkey tonight," he said, a thankful grin on his face. That grin was soon to be short lived, however.

Upon hearing her father's nickname for her, Natalie suddenly sprung up from her couch. "You're home!" she squealed delightedly, breaking all the peace that has settled in the room. She bounded out of her blankets, tearing across the room and nearly giving poor Connie a heart attack.

Connie gasped and pressed a hand to her heart. She had been so startled at the child's sudden movements that her pacemaker seemed to jump. "Natalie! I thought you were sleeping, honey!" she said baldly, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

The four year old turned to her and shrugged. "I was faking it!" she said by way of an explanation. She turned to Dean and threw her arms out wide. "Hi Daddy!" she said, jumping up and down in excitement, apparently not giving a damn that it was after 2 am. Sam looked at Dean, not believing what was happening himself.

"Faking it?" Dean repeated, stunned. He was so taken off guard by her sudden revival that he was not even sure what to do at that moment. He quickly shoved the money into Connie's hand. Sam took that as his cue to usher Connie to the door. Once they got outside, Sam turned to the sweet, baffled woman.

"Well- thanks again," he said awkwardly. Connie still looked like a deer in headlights- so taken aback was she.

"How on earth could she have been faking it?" the poor lady wondered aloud.

Sam shrugged with a half smile. "She's good. She's really good."

"But she laid perfectly still for almost two hours! In the middle of the night!"

Sam couldn't do anything more than offer her a weak smile. "Well- like I said. She's good. And stubborn." He held Connie's car door open for her as the little sweet lady continued to stammer disbelievingly. As soon as she was in, Sam politely closed the door for her and hoofed it back into the room. Dean was standing, looking down at Natalie with his hands on his hips, while she was still grinning to beat the band.

"You want to explain yourself?" he growled at his daughter, a touch of The Eye in his gaze.

Natalie, however, ignored the Eye and wrapped her arms around Dean's knees, hugging him tightly. "I wanted to see you!" she said, happy that they were both home. She leaned back and looked into his face, finally noticing the black eye and the cut cheek. "Did the witches hurt you?" she asked anxiously. She looked over at Sam standing near the door, and saw that he was pretty banged up as well. Not wanting her to distract them from the issue, however, Sam put his hands on his hips.

"Natalie. Answer your father, please," he said, trying to be stern and failing as usual.

Natalie looked back at Dean and innocently said, "What?"

Dean snapped his fingers and pointed to the bed, signaling for Sam to go sit. He didn't want his brother standing up anymore with his side sliced open. Sam did as Dean snapped, going to sit on his bed. Dean nodded in approval, and then returned his attention to his wide-awake daughter, seeing that he was going to have to take a different approach. "Why are you up?" he said, trying to keep any harshness out of his voice. "And don't say it was to see us because you see us all freaking day. That could've waited till morning." He sarcastically thought that he couldn't wait to see what she was going to come up with on this one. Natalie's eyes had followed Sam, observing his slower movements. When he finally sat down, her attention returned to her father. She shrugged like it was obvious.

"I missed you and I wanted to know if you got the witches," she said sweetly. She squinted and frowned at the cut on Dean's cheek. "Did you get hurt? Did the witches do that?"

Dean tried not to roll his eyes while remembering that a four year old didn't quiet understand that yes, a cut meant one got hurt, but there was no way he was going to admit that. "Obviously we got the witches and you know that." There was no way he'd lose a fight to freaking witches, ever. "I'm fine, but you're going back to bed, kid," he said, starting to move to usher her back to the couch. He needed to stitch up Sam, and was not pleased with the idea of doing that with a child hanging on his leg. The child, however, had a different idea.

Natalie grabbed onto the hand that was trying to usher her back to bed. "But I'm not even tired and I want to help you. I can help you and Unca Sam feel better!" Without waiting for permission, she ran over to the supply bag containing the First Aid kit, and started digging.

Sam took one look at Dean's face, and jumped in, hoping to help. "Bug, you really need to be in bed," he said gently, trying to reason with her. Natalie turns to him with the full force of the puppy dog eyes.

Damn Sam for teaching her that, Dean thought observing the whole thing. Natalie blinked at him, not understanding why she couldn't help.

"But... but you're hurt. I cannot sleep if you're hurt," she said, her eyes wide. Sam turned to Dean with a sigh that told him she wasn't lying. Since the moment she started talking, Sam had always had an uncanny ability to tell when Natalie was lying and when she was telling the truth. This was definitely the latter. She wasn't trying to get out of bedtime. She was honestly upset that they were hurt.

Dean ran a hand down his face and winced in pain as it runs across his cut that he had already forgotten about. He walked over to the bag and reached in to retrieve the first aid kit quickly and out of her reach. He looked down at her pleading eyes. "You know better than to trick the babysitter and stay up well past your bed time," he said seriously, needing to get back to the heart of the matter. He wasn't yelling or even really angry- he was too tired for that.

She shrunk down a little at the scolding, and mumbled. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she said, staring at the floor. Sam pinched his lips and shook his head at Dean. She wasn't really that sorry- she got to stay up. But before Dean could call her out on the lie, she popped her head back up. "Can I please help you and Unca Sam feel better? Then I'll go right to bed, promise," she pleaded with four year old sincerity.

Dean wanted to fight her on this; she knew better. He briefly considered tying her down to the couch as a means of making her stay in bed, but he knew that would never work. The little ninja could shimmy her way out of anything. He had learned in the last four years to pick his battles and this wasn't one of them, especially with Sam hurt. With a sigh, he met her puppy dog eyes and his heart softened slightly, but he still answered her with some authority behind his voice.

"You can WATCH and the second we're done, you're going to bed. And you'll go to bed all week without a fuss. Kapeesh?" He had to take a shot and milk this for all it was worth.

She barely heard the last sentence. As soon as she realized he was giving her permission to stay up, her eyes lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. "Okay!" she squealed excitedly. She snatched the first aid kit out of Dean's hand and ran over to Sam's bed. She clambered up onto it and opened up the kit. "Okay now. Where are you hurt?" she asked.

Sam smiled gently. "Bug, you are just watching, remember?"

"But I know what to do! I learned it all!" she said enthusiastically.

"Learned it all? Learned all what?"

"All the doctor stuff! I've been watching Doc McStuffins and I know what to do!"

Dean rolled his eyes. He knew that was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Natalie had been on a Doc McStuffins streak for about a week now. At first, it was just a relief that it wasn't that stupid freaking Frozen movie. But now, apparently, his four year old thought she was capable of doctoring. Stupid Disney shows. Right up there with witches in his book.

Dean quickly moved over to the bed, sitting next to Sam and closed the first aid kit, careful not to smash her fingers. "Watching, remember? TV is different than real life, kiddo," he said calmly, before pulling the kit onto his lap. Natalie pinched her lips together as Dean closed the kit on her, but she knew better than to argue. She leaned back and sat on her hands as her way of showing Dean that she was listening and not touching.

Dean nodded approvingly once at her obedience. He re-opened the kit, rummaging through to find what he wanted. He looked at his little brother. "You wanna chug something before we start?" he asked Sam, his eyes suggestive. They kept a bottle of bourbon on hand for this very reason. Sam shook his head grimly.

"Naw, I'm good," he said in a straight tone. He just wanted it done so he could go to bed. Natalie suddenly felt the need to pipe up.

"Unca Sam, you need to tell the doctor if something is hurting, or they don't know," she said seriously.

Dean grinned at the comment. "Yeah, Sammy. You gotta tell the doctor if it hurts," he said in a teasing tone. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's comment, but turned to Natalie.

"I'm really okay, Bug," he said reassuringly. Dean reached out carefully to lift Sam's shirt to see the wound. Sam reached down and helped him out, trying not to show that he was in pain in front of his niece. Not that he was trying to act macho or anything- he just didn't want to scare her. But he forgot once again that this was Dean's kid he was talking about. Despite the blood and slashed flesh, Natalie leaned in very closely to look. Sam wasn't lying- the gash wasn't terrible, just needing about three stitches.

"You gotta clean the blood off first, Daddy," she said seriously to Dean, as if he didn't know already. Looking at the wound that was very different than anything on the Disney Channel show, she said anxiously to Dean. "Don't hurt him, okay?"

Dean saw the serious look on her face, and smiled at her. "I'll never do that, kiddo." She couldn't seem to stop fidgeting. He saw how antsy she was, so he decided to make her useful in hopes that she'd stay out of the way. "Why don't you go grab us a towel?" he asked as he pulled the bottle of rubbing alcohol out of the bag.

"Okay!" she said excitedly, thrilled to be helping. She jumped off the bed, causing Sam to grit his teeth. It was two am, and the walls of the motel weren't exactly sound proof. The last thing they needed was a neighbor calling the manager, and then to have to try to explain their way out of this one.

"Natalie, you need to be quiet. And don't jump off the bed!" he scolded, but she wasn't paying attention. She had her mission. She snatched a towel from the bathroom and ran back to Dean's side.

"Here! I got one!" she squealed delightedly, causing Sam to shoot Dean his best bitch face.

"Natalie, Uncle Sam said quiet down," Dean repeated as he took the proffered towel. Natalie clamped her lips shut, knowing she better behave. Without warning, Dean poured the alcohol on Sam's wound, quickly using the towel to soak up the excess liquid and keep it from getting all over the bed. "Sorry, Sammy," he said apologetically. He knew it hurt like a bitch, which is why it was best to not know it was coming.

Sam gritted his teeth as a hiss of air escaped his mouth. "It's fine. I'm fine," he said tightly. He clamped his jaw together. "Just keep at it," he said carefully, trying not to let the expletives that he wanted to utter come out of his mouth.

Natalie watched the proceedings with worried eyes. She knew she couldn't touch Sam, even though he was in pain, but she needed to help somehow. She dove into the first aid kit, pulling out a square gauze bandage in its paper wrapping as well as the Neosporin, remembering that Uncle Sam always put the gooey stuff in the yellow tube on her cuts when she got hurt.

Dean pulled out a sterilized needle and some floss-like string for stitching- the routine all too familiar to him by now. "Okay, Sammy, here we go." He quickly dove in with the needle, making quick and careful work of the stitches. "Almost done...you doing okay?" he asked, not taking his eyes off Sam's side, but trusting his instinct to tell him if Sam was lying to him.

"Yeah, fine," came the clipped reply. Dean knew Sam enough to know that it meant this didn't tickle, but he was doing okay. Natalie also heard the tension in Sam's voice. It made her nervous, especially because she knew that she couldn't really do anything to help. She suddenly got a brilliant brain wave. She tore over to her backpack and quickly withdrew something. She ran back over to Sam and extended her finger. At the end of it was a sparkly princess sticker.

"Here- this will make you feel better," she said anxiously, wanting desperately to help. Sam smiled gently, but didn't move.

"Thanks, Bug. Hold tight a moment," he said, not wanting her to think he wasn't taking the sticker on purpose. Dean still had a needle in his skin- he wasn't moving for anything. Dean smirked at the glittery sticker and made a mental note to mock Sam about it later. He deftly finished off the stitch and clipped the string.

"Done," he said, gripping Sam's shoulder and giving him a reassuring squeeze like always. He started rummaging around in the first aid kit for some pain killers. Natalie saw her golden opportunity.

"Here! I can help!" she squealed, leaning forward and putting the sticker on Sam's shirt. She climbed back up on the bed and tore open the bandage. She reached for the Neosporin, but Sam gently intercepted her small hands.

"Here, Bug. Let me do the Neosporin and you can do the bandage, okay?" he said, making sure she looked him in the eye. She nodded solemnly.

"Okay," she agreed. Sam gently smeared the ointment on his skin, being careful not to open the wound that Dean had just stitched up. He turned back to the little wannabe doctor.

"Okay. Nice and easy now," he instructed. Natalie bit her lip and reached forward tentatively, but she went slowly. Even though she was hell bent on helping, it was clear she was scared of hurting her uncle. Dean had shaken a couple pills into his hand and thrust them at Sam.

"Take these," he ordered quietly, before turning to his daughter. "You got it, kiddo?" he asked lightly, but he was watching her like a hawk. He knew she was dying to help, but that didn't mean he was going to let her do something that would put Sam in even more pain. Natalie nodded stubbornly, not taking her eyes off her target. With all the determination she could summon, she gently pressed the bandage to Sam's side. Sam quickly put his hand over the bandage to hold it in place, and then smiled at his niece.

"Good job Bug," he said encouragingly. Natalie looked at them both, her eyes wide and wondrous.

"I did it!" she said, clapping her tiny hands together once. As Sam nodded to Dean to reassure him and to tape the bandage in place, Natalie piped up again. "Where else are you hurt?" she asked, now full of confidence.

"Ya did good, kiddo. We put Humpty Dumbo back together again," Dean quipped as he taped the bandage back on. He looked at his brother frankly. "You hurt anywhere else?" he asked.

"Hey! I asked first!" Natalie said indignantly. Sam smothered a smile at Dean.

"She did ask first," he retorted, before smiling at Dean with a look that said just let her have this one. Dean rolled his eyes at the two of them.

"Sorry, my bad, Doc Whatshername. Go ahead." He motioned toward Sam for her to continue. But Natalie wasn't going to let him off the hook on that one.

"DADDY- it's Doc McStuffins. But I'm NOT her. I'm Doctor Natalie!" she said with a distinctive air of "duh".

With his own underlying sarcasm that went unnoticed by the doctor, Dean responded. "Yeah, Doctor Natalie, of course." He couldn't help himself- he grinned. God, this brat was funny.

Satisfied that she got her point across, she nodded, and then turned back to Sam. "Tell me what hurts, please," she said, trying to use her best manners.

At that blessed moment, Sam felt the painkillers kick in. He turned his attention to his niece and gave her a little smile. "Well, Dr. Natalie, my hand hurts a little bit, but it should be fine." He held out his right hand, knowing that she'd want to see it. Dean leaned forward a bit, looking with a hunter's eye for things that a four year old doctor might not catch.

"Hmmmm," she said seriously, taking his hand and examining it. Sam pinched his lips together to try to suppress the laugh. She would be hurt if he laughed at her, but she was just so serious that it was adorable. After a moment, she said, "You don't got any cuts or bruises on it. Did you punch a monster with it?"

"Yes, Bug. We went a few rounds with the witches," Sam explained gently. Dean shuddered.

"Freaking HATE witches," he grumbled. Natalie, however, knew the remedy for punching someone, having seen her father deal with it many, many times.

"Okay," she said. She was about to launch herself off the bed, when she remembered she wasn't allowed to do that. She climbed down nicely, and then went tearing over to the ice bucket, using both hands to haul it off the bathroom counter. She quickly dumped a couple handfuls into a clean washcloth, and ran back to Sam. "Here," she said, holding out her tiny hand for his large one. With a smile, Sam put his hand on top of hers, and she hauled the ice pack on top of his bruised knuckles. "Now you gotta keep the ice on it, okay? You gotta make sure that the ice stays right there, okay Unca Sam? It can't go no where," she said, looking into his eyes, apparently very concerned that he wouldn't understand that the ice must not move at any cost.

Sam nodded solemnly. "I will, Doc. Don't you worry." This time, he couldn't help but let the smile spread across his face. She was too adorable and honestly this was the best medicine for him, seeing his niece happy and healthy. "Thanks for patching me up," he added with a wink.

She patted him gently on the leg. "You are a very good patient. Is there anything else wrong with you?" she asked professionally- for a four year old.

"We don't have time to fix all the things Uncle Sammy has wrong with him," Dean quipped playfully, tapping the side of his temple. Sam just shook his head, chuckling. He continued holding the ice bag on his hand, making sure that Natalie could see that he was following instructions.

"So how much is this doctor's visit gonna cost me?" Sam asked, still wanting to play along with her. Natalie giggled, then tapped her cheek.

"One kiss, please!" she said in her cute little voice. Sam gently took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, turned her face one way, and gave her a soft kiss on one cheek, before turning her head the other way and planting another on the other side.

"There's your tip, too," he said, grinning. She giggled, delighted with the double kiss.

"Thank you!" she squealed. Sam closed his eyes at her suddenly loud voice, but if they hadn't woken up half the motel at this point, they probably weren't going to. Natalie turned to her father.

"Okay, Daddy. Please tell the doctor what's wrong," she said, then leaned forward and whispered. "And don't forget I'm the doctor." Dean snorted a laugh.

"Well Doc, I'll have you know that I'm good as new." Dean was too macho to ever admit he was "hurt", despite the slash mark on his cheek. He had an appearance to maintain.

But the four year old wasn't having any of it. She put her tiny hands on her hips and said pompously, "Daddy, if you lie, you gotta sit in Time Out." Sam couldn't contain his laugh- it snorted out before he could catch it.

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam as if to say Yeah, that one's on me. He stuck his tongue out playfully at his daughter. "I'd like to see you try getting my ass in Time Out," he said defiantly as he rummaged through the first aid kit. At seeing Dean try to seek his own medical treatment, Natalie stomped her foot.

"Hey! That's my job!" she squawked indignantly. She scrambled up onto the bed and swatted his hand, just like he did to her every time she tried to steal his phone. With the ultimate bitch face on, she snatched the rubbing alcohol and poured it onto the towel.

Dean pulled his hand back at the light smack, and couldn't help but grin. His kid was too much like him for her own good. He reached out, helping her with pouring the liquid onto the towel. "Be careful- you don't want to pour too much," he instructed gently.

"Okay, she said, concentrating hard. Her tongue poked out the side of her mouth as she focused. Both brothers tried to swallow their lips in order to keep from laughing. She was just too damn cute. After completing her task, she held the towel out to Dean a bit. "This might sting a little, okay?" she said anxiously, not wanting to take him by surprise.

Dean shook his head when he realized just how much she sounded like him too when she said that. The kid picked up on their phrases right and left. It never ceased to amaze him just how closely she paid attention to them. "Bring it on, squirt. Let's clean up this bad boy," he said, pointing to his cheek. He gave Sam a quick look that said your turn to watch her. His eyes would be closes as the cut was near his cheek- and keeping your eyes closed around a imaginative Natalie was always a risk. Sam grinned, and Dean shut his eyes.

Natalie carefully wiped Dean's cheek. She was so scared of actually hurting him that she went at a snail's pace. Anytime she scraped her knee or got a cut, she hated the part where the rubbing alcohol went on, because it stung so badly. She knew this was the way to clean up the cut- she'd certainly gotten enough herself, but she didn't want to hurt her daddy for anything. Once Dean realized what was going on, he also realized that this procedure was going to take twenty minutes when it should have taken twenty seconds. He spoke up, gingerly opening one eye. He had to help her get this done sometime in the next month.

"C'mon. Really get in there, Natalie," he said gently, trying to help her through her fear. "Don't worry, kid, you can't hurt Batman," he added, a grin in his voice. That instantly sparked an idea from his daughter.

"Hold on!" she said, sliding off the bed and going running over to her backpack. After a moment, she came back with an action figure in her hand. "Here," she said, holding it out to Dean. "You can hold this and it will make you feel better." Dean looked down into her hand. It was her Batman action figure.

Dean looked into her little anxious eyes. This was a big deal. NOBODY got to touch Batman- ever. It was one of the very few items she was incredibly possessive over. His heart twisted when he realized that this was such a big moment for her, wrapped up in something so insignificant that another might have missed it. But not him.

He knew he would have to get playful again though, to keep her from panicking. He took the action figure and held it in his hand. "Does this mean I get to keep him forever?" he joked, pulling Batman into his chest. Natalie's eyes got wide for a moment, and then she realized that Dean was just teasing her. She giggled.

"You can if you say that you're a wuss!" she shot back playfully as she continued to clean his cut. She was definitely braver this time, seeing that Dean was okay.

"Not a chance in hell. You can have the tiny guy back after you patch me up," he said, keeping the burn of the alcohol off his facial expressions. She was going to have to get used to doing this sooner or later, but he'd rather not scare the four year old just yet. He was a pro at putting away feelings or any signs of pain. Years of practice. Hell would do that to a guy.

Natalie continued to clean it for another moment, before she suddenly couldn't take it anymore. "Batman is helping, right?" she asked quietly. Dean knew his little girl well enough to know that she really was asking if she was hurting him. He smiled encouragingly.

"Keep at it. Doesn't hurt a bit."

About five seconds later, she pulled the cloth away. There was no more blood- just the angry pink tear in the skin. She nodded approvingly, then dove into the first aid kit again. "Where are the caterpillar band aids?" she asked as Dean smeared Neosporin on the cut. Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look. What the hell was a "caterpillar" band aid? Dean gave Sam a snarky smile.

"Why don't you ask you assistant, Nurse Samantha?" he quipped, nodding towards a bitch-faced Sam.

And with a giggle, Natalie did just that. "Nurse Samantha, where are the caterpillar band aids?" she said, turning to him with Dean's smirk on her face.

"First off, it's Uncle Sam to you, Doc," he said, looking her in the eye. He had to make her understand that that nickname wasn't flying with him- not from a four year old, anyways. He reached into the first aid kit. "Second, they're called BUTTERFLY bandages." He pulled one out and handed it to her. Natalie took it with a grin.

"Thanks, Nurse Unca Sam!" Sam rolled his eyes. Close enough.

"Yeah, thanks Nurse Samantha," Dean added, stomping all over Sam's teaching moment. He had to taunt him. It was his brotherly duty. Dean glanced at the band aid in Natalie's hand. "Okay, kiddo. Let's do this."

"Daddy, we're not a-spose to call him Nurse Samantha, remember?" she scolded as she opened the bandage.

"Yeah, well, I'm the oldest, so I can still do it," he said with his shit-eating grin in place. Natalie just shook her head and rolled her eyes, looking just like Sam for a change. She carefully put the band aid on the cut just like she'd seen Dean do a thousand times before. He patted it into place. "Great work, kiddo. I'm good as new," he said, grinning at the Doc.

"Yaaaay!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together delightedly. But then she noticed Dean's swollen eye. She left her hands pressed together and tilted her head. "Your eye is all red. How's come?" she asked. Dean quickly shook his head. He wasn't about to tell his daughter who thought he walked on water that a witch sucker punched him when he wasn't looking.

"A witch happened," was all he'd give up as an explanation. "Give me a day and I'll be good as new," he reassured her. She pressed her lips together, not liking the answer.

"I don't want you to be hurting for a whole day. I want to fix it now. How do I fix it now?" she asked seriously.

Dean ruffled her hair. His kid had a heart bigger than his and Sam's combined. She always wanted to help, to make sure they were okay and nothing bad happened. It was a rare moment, but right then, something whispered into Dean's brain that maybe, just maybe, he was doing this Dad thing right. He shook his head and winked at her with a smile.

"Sorry, kiddo. It's just one of those things that heals with time. So don't you worry," he said, handing Batman back to her. At hearing that, Natalie's bottom lip poked out so far she could have tripped over it.

"Doc McStuffins doesn't tell you how to fix Witch Stuff," she grumbled to herself. Just as Dean was thinking that THAT would be a hilarious Disney Channel episode of that stupid show, Natalie shrieked.

"WAIT!" She dove off the bed again and made a beeline for her backpack, depositing Batman inside, and digging for something else. Dean knew exactly what she was going for, having watched Sam just go through it, but before he could stop her, she ran back to him. Sure enough, a glittery princess sticker was being extended towards him. "You get one too for being a good patient," she said, smiling her thousand watt smile at him.

Dean ground his back teeth together. There was no way in hell he'd willingly wear a freaking princess sticker, but he didn't want to hurt Natalie's feelings. "Hey- I don't want to take all your stickers," he offered up seriously, praying she'd buy it. "It's okay. You did such a good job, I don't need to take all your stickers."

"That's okay, Daddy! I got lots of them!" she said, holding the princess out to him again. Instead of taking the sticker, Dean's narrowing eyes slid up to Sam. Sam suddenly found the wallpaper of the motel very interesting.

"Really. Lots of them," Dean said dryly, his gaze unwavering. Sam had a tendency to spoil his niece at the worst times. Last he knew, Natalie only had a couple of those damned stickers left. He cocked one eyebrow at his brother. Sam pretended he couldn't hear. Dean kept his laser eyes glaring at Sam until Sam couldn't take it anymore. He sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped.

"They were two for a dollar at the gas station and I knew she'd love them," Sam admitted guiltily.

"And how many dollars did you spend?"

"Well….."

"Sam."

"Five."

Dean's mouth dropped open. She had TEN pages of these horrific sticky things?! Before he could rip open Sam's stitches, Natalie impatiently waved the sticker at him again. Knowing he had no other choice, he manned up. He took the sticker from his daughter and slapped it on the back of his left hand. When he saw the delighted look on his daughter's face, some how the glittery sticker didn't seem so bad. "Well would you look at that?" he said, his eyes going wide like he had suddenly received a jolt of energy. "I'm feeling better already. Must be a magic sticker."

"Really?!" Natalie gasped, looking down at the sticker in wonder. All of the sudden Dean registered how she must have heard what he just said. Before he knew it, Natalie raced over to her backpack and plucked two sheets of stickers out. "Here! Take more!" she squealed, delighted with her new discovery. Before Dean could stop her, she planted three more princesses on his jeans. Sam burst out laughing- which proved to be a bad move for him. Her head whipped around like she'd forgotten he was there. She ran over to him. "Here. You need more too!" And proceeded to put princess stickers all over his flannel shirt. Sam just chuckled, shaking his head. Should've seen that coming, he thought amusedly to himself.

Dean pointed his finger and mockingly laughed because Sam got it too. "I think Nurse Uncle Sam needs extra stickers, squirt. He was hurt waaaaaaaay worse than I was," he taunted, his shit-eating grin going full bore. Wanting to help in any way possible, she complied immediately.

"Okay!" she said, climbing up on to the bed and then into Sam's lap, where she proceeded to put stickers on each side of Sam's face. Sam didn't even try to fight it.

When Natalie leaned back to admire her handiwork, without missing a beat Sam said, "Your dad is going to be jealous because I have more stickers now."

Natalie dove off Sam's lap in a ninja-esque move, and jumped up onto Dean. Amidst a flurry of giggles, she put a sticker right on the end of his nose, then burst out laughing. Dean made a point of good naturedly wrinkling his nose and trying to stare at the sticker cross-eyed, which caused Natalie to erupt in that brilliant laughter that only a four year old can do. After she laughed herself out, Dean sat her upright in his lap.

"You're a great doctor, kiddo. Patched us right up. High five," he said, extending his hand to her. She slapped him five with another giggle. "Now the thing that heals best is sleep, so what do you say we get some shut eye? Sleep heals all wounds." He wrinkled his nose again. "Or is that whiskey?" he asked, grinning at Sam. Without missing a beat, Natalie answered back.

"We can try whiskey too!" she said, squirming off his lap and making a beeline towards the bottle on the counter that was just out of her reach. Luckily, Dean's long legs overtook her before she could figure out a way to ninja herself onto the counter. He scooped her up and swung her around, before turning her to face him.

"Hold up there, squirt. Not for you to mess with," he said, looking her right in the eye to make sure she understood. "I'll take care of the whiskey- after you're in bed," he said, making sure to emphasize the fact that this was non-negotiable. Natalie nodded resignedly.

"Oh. Okay. I gotta clean up the mess, though." She squirmed until Dean put her down, and then trotted back over to the bed and the first aid kit. "Doc McStuffins says that you gotta clean up your...your..." She stumbled over the word "clinic"- she couldn't quite remember it. "…doctor stuff when you're done," she finished promptly. She began gathering the strips and paper from the bandages and wadding them into a ball. Dean unscrewed the top from the whiskey bottle and took an almighty swig before twisting the cap back on and heading over to the makeshift clinic. He quickly packed up the rest of the first aid paraphernalia as she dumped the paper garbage into the small trash can. As she trotted back to his side, a satisfied grin on her face, he reached out and ruffled her hair.

"Good job, kiddo. Doc Mc-Whatever-It-Is would be proud. Alright now- bed," he said in his no-nonsense voice. Natalie sighed heavily, knowing her playtime was up. She scrambled over to Sam and held her arms up. He reached down and picked her up, being careful of his side. He cuddled his niece to his chest for a moment before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead and setting her back down.

"Good Night, Bug. Sleep well," he said. She patted his knee consolingly.

"You too!" As she turned her back and trotted over to her blankets on the couch, Sam kicked off his boots and with a low chuckle, began peeling princess stickers off his face. Natalie clambered into her makeshift bed, then sat up, looking expectantly at Dean. He grinned and moved over towards her, crouching down next to her.

"Well, you managed to stay up until…." He looked at the clock. "Two forty A.M. I think that's a new record," he said. Natalie just grinned back at him. He shook his head with a chuckle. "You better sleep in late to make up for lost time," he said, knowing that it would never happen. True to form, Natalie shook her head.

"Naw. I'll just jump on Unca Sam instead," she said with a tiny giggle.

"Like hell you will," came the reply from the other end of the room. Natalie and Dean both snorted a laugh in tandem. Dean reached over to adjust her blankets, expecting her to lay down, but instead, she crooked a finger at him like she wanted him to come closer. He obeyed. She placed a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"There. That'll make everything better," she said sweetly. Dean's throat tightened up for a moment. He reached out and placed a loving hand on the back of her head, pulling her in close and kissing her temple.

"It already did, Baby Girl," he whispered back. As she laid down and he tenderly covered her with her blanket, he leaned in and whispered to her with a grin. "Make sure you get some air on that jump in the morning."

Natalie just giggled.