"Dean, do you have a minute?" Bobby asked as Dean was getting ready to go to work. Dean nodded and looked up from the book he'd been reading to Sammy.

"Right now? Or can we wait to find out if the Little Red Hen's friends learn to help out first?" he asked, both him and Bobby doing a double take as the question sunk in.

Bobby shook his head. "Finish reading your story," he assented, muttering "Damn domestication" under his breath.

Dean smirked and looked down at Sammy, who was trying to read ahead but couldn't quite get the whole idea from the pictures.

That gave Dean an idea of something to talk to Bobby about when they had their "minute," and he smiled down at his little brother. "Okay, Sammy, where were we? Did the Big Bad Wolf huff and puff and blow the house down yet?"

Sammy, who had already perfected a bitch face at age six, chose this moment to give a demonstration of that fact. "That's not this story, Dean," he sighed.

Dean smiled down at him. "I know, Sammy. I'm just messing with you, bud! Come on, let's read the real story, okay?" Trying not to think about the answer he'd almost tossed out (something along the lines of "Sometimes it's okay to have a story with no monsters"), Dean suffered patiently through another chorus of "Not I" said the whole freakin barnyard. "And the other animals learned that they have to earn their food if they want to eat it," he finished smoothly, closing the book, "but why doesn't Sammy have to worry about that just yet?"

"Because Sammy has Dean," the six year old grinned, hugging his big brother.

"That's right, buddy. But Dean does have to work for his food, and he needs to talk to Bobby first, so how about Sammy brushes his teeth with the new toothbrush he and Uncle Bobby bought yesterday and then he can give Dean a hug goodbye. Sound like a plan?"

"Mhmm!" Sammy nodded emphatically, climbing off of Dean's lap and running toward the motel room's bathroom.

Dean stood up from his seat and stretched for a minute. "What's up, Bobby?" he asked.

"It was just something I noticed," Bobby said slowly, almost like he was unsure of what he was trying to say.

Yeah, okay," Dean agreed. "So what did you notice?

"Okay, don't take this the wrong way, which I know you will anyway, but does this Sam look different than the other six year old Sam to you?" Bobby asked.

Dean nodded seriously. "I know what you mean, Bobby, and you're right. I'm going to take it the wrong way, because that's who I am, but actually getting three solid meals a day every day is actually putting meat on his bones, and he doesn't look half as scrawny as he did back then. He's heavier too, which keep throwing me off."

Bobby nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't know how bad it was, boy," he tried to apologize.

"Bobby Singer, you stop it right now. You have been a father to me and Sam for a lot longer than we've appreciated it, and I don't think we could ever say how much that means to us, but you were never responsible for feeding us every day," Dean answered firmly.

Bobby noted the "us" and something clicked. "Dean, what did you have for dinner last night?" he asked.

Dean shrugged. "That scotch?"

Bobby shook his head. "You guys are so fucked up, you know that?"

Dean smiled ruefully. "That's what I mean, Bobby. You always know exactly what to say."

"Dean," Bobby cut in firmly, "Sammy is getting enough food. You have to eat, okay? We can wait on dinner until you get back if he gets an extra snack this afternoon, and you can see for yourself that he's eating just fine. You hear me?"

Dean just grinned. "You just don't want to have to be the one reminding Sammy to use his good table manners."

"Like you're any better," Bobby shot back.

Dean sighed. "Okay, there was something I wanted to talk to you about. While you're here today, do you think you could see how much Sammy can read at this point? I can't remember when exactly he really took off, but if you find out where he is, you'll probably get some peace and quiet."

Bobby snorted suddenly.

"What?" Dean asked, turning around and making that nothing was behind him making funny faces. "Bobby, what's so funny?"

"Oh, it's just, there's a sure-fire way to get him to sit down and shut up, and you know it!" Bobby answered, still chuckling.

Dean frowned for a second, then he remembered. "Oh hell no, Bobby. Don't you do that to me!"

Bobby shrugged. "How should I say this, uh, too late?" he asked. "I picked it up yesterday when I got the library books, and he loved it."

Dean groaned and dropped his head in his hands. "Just perfect. You didn't tell him what I do though, did you?

"No, but you should know that he thinks Peter Pan is scary, so he cheers for Captain Hook every time."

"I know he does," Dean admitted, flushing slightly. "That's half the reason I took the jo- wait. Every time? How many times-"

"Just three," Bobby assured him.

"Dean, catch me!" Sammy yelled from the bathroom door, interrupting the lets-embarrass-Dean convention by running at it at breakneck speed. Dean leaned down and braced himself, catching the six year old fireball effortlessly and swinging him around until he squealed.

"Alright, little man, gimme a real hug. I've gotta go to work, but I'll be back before you know it, okay?" Dean asked, holding out his arms.

Sammy threw his hands around Dean's middle and squeezed tight. "What if I don't ever, ever let you go?" he asked, looked up innocently.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Then I'll have to go to work wearing you, Sammy, and everybody would laugh at me!"

"Oh," Sammy said sadly. "Well, goodbye then."

"Goodbye, little tyke," Dean answered, messing up Sammy's bed head with a grin.

Sammy tried to not grin and wriggled out of the hold. "Deean!" he whined. "Don't do that!"

Dean grinned. "See you guys later."

Early mornings were becoming the highlight of his day. After that, it was a long day in a hot costume taking pictures with spoiled kids and doing weird skits with other guys who weren't Tyler.

***SPN***

Bobby sighed as the door closed behind Dean. As lonely as it got, he definitely missed the days when all he had to do was read and take phone calls. Living with a hyper little kid in a cramped motel room was not the best experience he'd ever had, but this was Sam. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for this boy.

"Come on, Sam. Let's read a book," he offered, walking toward the chair Dean had vacated. When there was no response, he glanced back at the door to see the six year old sitting cross-legged in front of the door, chin resting on his fists, looking expectantly past the door.

"Sam?" Bobby asked, walking back over to the kid and slowly lowering himself next to him. "What's going on, buddy?"

Sam immediately leaned over and curled up against Bobby, wrapping his arms around the older hunter's waist. "When's Dee coming back, Uncle Bobby?" he asked quietly.

Bobby sighed. "Is that what this is about?" he asked incredulously. Sam immediately pulled back, a hurt expression on his face. "Hey, hey, it's okay, Sam," Bobby amended, reaching toward him again. Sam turned away, crossing his arms with a pout, but Bobby heard the sniffle and saw his little shoulders start to tremble.

Taking a deep breath, with an inner reminder to be patient, Bobby reached over and lifted Sam into his arms, reseating him in his lap. Sam responded by hiding his face in the older hunter's shirt and trying to muffle his sobs.

Wishing for the umpteenth time that this wasn't reality, Sam was still twenty-eight, and all Bobby had to do was gruffly tell him to pull himself together for god's sake, Bobby sighed softly and rubbed Sam's back.

"Hey, it's okay, kid. You miss your brother, I know, but he's coming back. I promise. Now, when he gets back, he's going to want to know what you did all day. Do you want to tell him that you sat here and waited, or should we go do something fun?"

"He's right, you know," a cocky voice with a British accent made Bobby and Sam both whirl around to face the intruder. Bobby groaned, but Sam jumped up excitedly and ran toward the angel.

"Balt'zar!" he crowed, holding his arms out.

Balthazar froze for a moment, then he remembered himself and smiled broadly, crouching down to catch the kid. "Hey, Sammy," he forced a light laugh, messing up the kid's hair before pulling his hand back sharply.

Sam giggled. "Can we do something fun? I have to tell Dean about it!"

Balthazar looked helplessly at Bobby, but the hunter pointedly ignored him, muttering something about "cocky angels needing to learn not to stick their noses where they don't belong" as he walked over toward his research.

"Do you want to play with Balthazar while Uncle Bobby does some research?" he asked, a smile on his face as the disconcerted angel tried to signal for him to stop talking.

It was too late, though. Sam was jumping up and down and nodding enthusiastically. "Can we go to the zoo and see the Grand Canyon and, no, wait, we have to wait for Dean to see that. Can we go to the ocean and see a shark? Do you think we can go to Neverland? Oh! Let's go all the way to the moon! Can we go to the moon, Balt'zar? And then go to Africa?"

Balthazar sighed very slowly and stood up while Sam chattered on and on about all the things he wanted to do. "Well," he attempted, "I'm sure your Uncle Bobby will have some restrictions as to how far you can go."

Bobby looked up. "Stay on this planet, stay in this time period, stay in this plane, and stop for lunch and an afternoon snack," he counted off on his fingers. "Have fun, ya idjits."

Balthazar groaned. "Isn't there some time you want him home by?" he asked, wincing as he heard what he'd just asked.

Bobby smirked. "If you could possibly use your angel mojo and bring him back approximately ten seconds before Dean walks in, I'm sure we'd all appreciate it," he answered.

Balthazar glared daggers, but the hunter had returned to his lore and history, so he looked back at the enthusiastic six year old.

Sam looked like he was about to burst, so Balthazar sighed and grabbed his hand. "Okay, kiddo, let's do this."

With an elaborate snap of his fingers, they were at Chuck E. Cheese's with pockets full of tokens. Sam stood stock still for a full minute, staring straight ahead at what could only be described as a kid's heaven. (Balthazar knew, he'd been hiding in one for a few years.) Then reality set in, and a huge smile broke out across the kid's face as he took off at top speed with a personal mission to win every game.

Balthazar sighed and walked over to the tables where a couple other parents were sitting. One of them, a fairly cute guy with an obvious headache, caught his attention immediately. Surreptitiously summoning a bottle of ibuprofen to his pocket, he casually walked over to the man and slid the bottle across the table.

The man looked up quickly and smiled at the sight of the medicine, smiling a little brighter when he saw the guy that had brought it.

Balthazar shrugged. "You look like you could use it," he explained. "Mind if I join you?"

The other man shook his head. "Not at all."

Balthazar's self-congratulatory grin was shattered by the shrill screaming that he'd only heard one time before, and then the realization set in and he took off running, the other man at his heels.

"What's going on?" the man asked breathlessly.

"I forgot he hates clowns," Balthazar called over his shoulder, cursing the fact that he couldn't just fly there and be done with it.

"BAAAAAAAZZAAAAAA!" Sam was screaming at the top of his lungs, and Balthazar headed that direction. It wasn't long at all before he saw the six year old, screaming and backing away from the large rat.

Balthazar ran past the unhelpful employee, shoving him over for good measure, and scooped his charge into his arms. Sam immediately gripped his jacket with all his might and hid his face in Balthazar's shirt.

Lifting the trembling six year old off the floor, Balthazar shot a glare at the rat, which was still there for some reason, and his new side kick got the idea.

"Hey, get out of here! Can't you see that you're scaring him?" the cute younger guy asked indignantly, stepping up the rat.

Balthazar was preoccupied with the screaming kid in his arms, but his angel senses suddenly went on high alert, and he looked up in terror only to recognize the true face of a demon behind the equally hideous mask.

"Let's go, Sammy," he murmured, teleporting them somewhere else.

***SPN***

"Bobby, where is Sam?" Cas asked without preamble, appearing in front of the gruff hunter.

Bobby sighed and tore himself away from his research. "He and Balthazar-"

"Balthazar has Sam?" Cas repeated. "Surely you didn't allow that? Do you even know how angry Dean will be when he finds out?"

"What's the big deal?" Bobby asked. "Balthazar is on our side, and he has the energy to keep up with Sam all day."

Cas rolled his eyes. "You understand, of course, that both of the brothers are the constant targets of a lot of angels right now because of the upset with the apocalypse. The news of this has spread to other races now, and many other beings are no longer afraid of attacking the Winchesters because they know that the angels will not be retaliating. Now, Sam is in a very vulnerable state, although he is still with my brother."

Bobby nodded. "I gathered from the way you're still here talking that everything is fine. What's the real emergency?"

Cas shook his head. "Sam and Balthazar are physically safe, but a trail of destruction and chaos is following them everywhere," he reported.

"Trail of destruction and chaos?" Bobby repeated incredulously.

"A demon blew up a Chuck E. Cheese's, a haunted skydiving plane crashed, a rollercoaster fell over, a poltergeist followed them to the zoo, a pack of werewolves is loose in Paris, a whole nest of vampires is on a mass-abduction spree in New York City, and twelve phantom pirate ships are pillaging again," Cas listed.

Bobby rolled his eyes and leaned back. "Did Sam get lunch?" he asked.

Cas frowned. "You are more concerned with Sam's eating habits than the utter destruction that is being caused?"

Bobby shrugged. "You're fighting an angel war in heaven. Dean is actually trying to make an honest living. Sam is six years old. Destruction is unavoidable, but his eating habits should not have to suffer for it," he stated.

Cas nodded solemnly. "I guess I can see how that makes more sense," he agreed. "Don't you think that Balthazar is too insensitive to be in charge of a young child? He took Sam to a clown place, and then onto an airplane!"

Bobby frowned. "Sam doesn't mind airplanes, Cas. What are you talking about?"

Cas froze for a moment and visibly backtracked. "The war in heaven is not going well," he stated randomly. "Raphael is determined to kill Sam and Dean, and it's becoming impossible for me to always protect them. If Balthazar wants to protect Sam, tell him that they have to stay here so that I know where to find them."

Bobby frowned. "If Balthazar is protecting Sam, then why does he have to tell you where to find him?" he questioned.

Cas sighed. "If Balthazar is protecting Sam, then I am protecting Dean. If Dean is stuck here, then so am I. If Dean knows that Balthazar and Sam are on a different continent, then he will not allow me to protect him. Despite his heightened ego, over confidence, and legitimate fighting skills, however, he cannot face an entire garrison on his own. Therefore, in order to protect Dean, Sam has to stay here."

"Or we could just not tell Dean," Bobby offered.

Cas stepped closer, anger burning in his eyes. "You would ask me to lie to the man I pulled from Hell and turned my back on my family for? You really think that I could betray him after all we've been through together? Who do you think I am, Bobby Singer?"

Bobby shook his head. "Well if you feel so strongly about it, I guess I can't question you. Still, don't you think it works better if I don't have to worry about keeping Sam cooped up in here all day?"

Cas sighed and relaxed a little. "You don't know my brother very well. He is not the person you want Sam to grow up around. He threw me off the Empire State Building to teach me to fly; can you imagine how he'll teach Sam to ride a bike?"

Bobby sighed. "I get what you're saying, Cas. I do. But all I'm hearing is that Sam is going to get to learn how to ride a bike. His life lessons can be centered around having fun and being a kid, and that's all I want for him. He's been through enough hell in his life. If he can have fun with Balthazar, I'm going to let him."

Cas nodded. "In that case, I will make sure that Balthazar understands the gravity of the situation, and you can tell Dean."

"Tell Dean what?" Dean asked, closing the door behind him. "Bobby, Cas," he acknowledged. "Where's Sammy?"

Bobby frowned. "Cas, where is Sam? I said to be back here ten seconds before Dean walked in the door. Why is he late?"

"Woah! What did Cas do with Sammy? Cas? Where is he?"

"I don't know, Dean. I didn't have him. I'm not sure how I should know the answer to this."

"Cas! Bring back my brother! Where the hell is he? Come on, man. I don't care what he looks like. I don't care if he's a fucking dinosaur. We'll figure it out, just bring him back!" Dean began to panic.

"Dean! Pull yourself together, ya idjit!" Bobby demanded. Dean immediately straightened up.

"Okay, Cas, what's going on?" he asked in a calm but deadly tone.

Cas tilted his head. "I don't understand, Dean. Why do you think I'm responsible for everything that happens to your brother?" he asked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Half the time you are!" he argued. "Now are you going to answer me? Because I'm about to tear this fucking room apart!"

"Dean!" Bobby interjected again. "First of all, Sam is fine. Secondly-"

"How do you know? Where the hell is he? What are you even talking about? He's fine? No, fine would be right here, safe and sound, eating dinner. As far as I know, he's completely alone right now, so would somebody please tell me what's going on!"

"I'm trying, boy!" Bobby yelled back. "Dammit, I'm trying! Now shut your trap and listen to me for five minutes. Sam spent the day with Balthazar so that I could get some – you shut your mouth before I shut it for you, boy, I'm still talking – research done. He has been safe and perfectly fine all day, as Cas was just telling me. In fact, I'm considering letting them do it again. The only problem right now is that they're late getting back."

Dean glared at nothing in particular. "Cas?" he asked. "Where the hell is my brother?"

"I don't know, Dean," he answered honestly. "I placed sigils to hide both you and your brother from me, remember?"

Dean sighed. "Then how were you keeping tabs on him all day?" he asked.

Bobby winced. "You might want to wait on that story," he suggested, but both Dean and Cas insisted on having it now.

Dean was positively growling by the end. "Well, damn, I don't know why I don't trust Balthazar, Bobby. I mean, they've been out all day, and they've only been attacked by two monsters that I've never heard of. Besides, they only ran into them because they were running from a ton of monsters that have personal vendettas against us. You know, you're right! We should hire Balthazar to babysit my baby brother every single day!"

"Don't you use sarcasm on me, boy," Bobby growled back. "The point is that Balthazar has kept Sam safe and happy all day long, and he got to get out of here. Now, I understand that you don't like the idea of your brother in danger, but that's just your life. I'd rather have Sam be out having fun with an angel to protect him than stuck in here with a couple of books and an old hunter."

Dean sighed. "But out there, he's attracting more attention. What if there are some creatures that aren't attacking him because they don't know what's going on, but now that they know, they'll just keep coming nonstop?"

"Then it'll be better to have him constantly on the move," Bobby answered smoothly.

Dean sighed. "Cas? What do you think?" he asked, running his hand over his face.

When there was no answer, he looked up in alarm to find that the angel has disappeared (again) at some point.

"Dammit, Cas, I know there's a war in heaven, and I get that you're protecting us, but can't you just stick around for one conversation? I wouldn't mind ganking some angels if it came to that!"

"Mr. Winchester, I'm appalled!" Balthazar answered in a subdued tone, teleporting in next to the bed and depositing a sleeping child on top of the blankets.

Dean struggled for a moment between blowing up at Balthazar and letting his brother sleep, but Sam won out, of course.

He was about to ask Balthazar to step outside with him when he realized that Sam was going to get cold, so he stepped over and began to tuck the little guy into bed.

"Why were you so late?" ended up being the only question he really felt like asking.

Balthazar shrugged. "Yeah, sorry about that. We were in a different time zone watching a Japanese production of Peter Pan, and when I realized what time it was over here, I couldn't drag him away. It was so close to the end! So we stayed for the end of the play, although he did fall asleep anyway so I could have brought him back, I guess."

Dean nodded quietly. "Thank you for taking care of him, Balthazar," he said seriously, holding out his hand. They both knew that there was a blanket apology mixed in with the statement, and Balthazar accepted gravely.

"Now, can we eat?" he asked. "Sam was only interested in hot dogs and cotton candy, and if I have to pretend to eat another bit of fake food, I think I'm going to throw up!"

"Angels don't," Dean started, then gave up.

"Oh, don't impose your standards of angelic habits onto me! We can't all be trench coat wearing, badass warriors."

"Shut up," Dean tossed back.

Balthazar rolled his eyes.

Bobby watched them interact and shook his head fondly. "Idjits."