Dean visits Sam regularly during his stint at Stanford. Okay, maybe Sam doesn't know that Dean's there, but it still counts, right? It counts for Dean, in any case-just seeing Sam is enough. Not really enough, Dean still leaves with a bitter taste in his mouth and a suspicious pricking behind his eyes at only seeing Sam, not actually meeting him, but it's all he can do, and Dean is willing to take what he can get.
But it's hard. He's glad to see Sam happy and living a normal life for once, but it doesn't fill the niggling ache that Sam's absence has created in him. Soothes it, yes. Fills it, no. Dean wants to be the big brother again, to tease his brother and fight with him and ride with him and take care of him, take care of Sam like he's always taken care of him.
That's mostly why he visits. Dean can't shake the feeling that it's his duty to protect Sam, to make sure he's doing ok, and even when Sam's away at college, his job still holds. So he drives or hitchhikes over to Stanford every few months, and makes sure his baby brother is hanging in there. And of course he is, Dean notes with a warm glow of pride. Dean managed to convince the Dean of Academics (with a heartthrob story about surprising Sam with a congratulations party at the end of the year, and sending cards to all the doting relatives) to show him Sam's academic records, which are naturally pristine. He might be a geeky wacko, but he's still Sam, still Dean's brother, and if some brotherly pride warm's Dean's heart, well, no one needs to know. He's not checking in because of any kind of soppy brotherly love, of course; he's just taking a quick break, and Stanford is a nice place to visit. No exterior motives at all. Worried? What are you talking about? 'Course not. Just...checking in.
So he checks in. In October, Sam's sitting under a tree with two other guys and a girl, textbook in hand and laptop on his knees. Sam's head is bent, squinting at the book while he types, so he never notices a tall man in a brown jacket who lazily strolls along the walk on the other side of the commons.
In January, Sam's in the dining hall, sitting by himself in a corner and nibbling on some kind of healthy junk, probably a salad. His hair looks as if it's been newly cut-but it's still long enough for Dean to ruffle a hand through. Except Dean's already gone, a long figure who only paused outside the door for a moment before slipping away.
In April, Sam's doing some kind of community service with a bunch of other kids, pulling weeds in a small park near the college. His hair keeps falling into his eyes, so he throws his head back with a laugh, swinging his hair out of his eyes and laughing as one boy pelts a clump of weeds at his back. Dean bites back an urge to call out, and disappears into the pub across the road.
Dean visits again in May-he's only a few hours away, staying in a motel while John meets with a few other hunters. He's bored and lonely, out of beer, and dying to get behind the wheel of the Impala. Three hours later, he's pulling up at the curb. Sam's going to be in Professor Brunson's chemistry seminar for another 10 minutes, his class of the day. Dean knows because, naturally, he photocopied Sam's schedule on his first visit, all those months before. This time he's actually going to meet Sam, then they'll head out for a couple of hamburgers and a few bottles of beer. Maybe Sam'll even come back with Dean for a few nights, although Sam's exams are only a week away.
Students pour out the front doors of the building, and Dean strains his eyes to pick out Sam. Not that it's so hard to find Sam in a crowd, of course-he'd know that freakishly tall, mop-headed brother of his anywhere. Still, he hasn't come out yet, and Dean's impatiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel when a curly, blond girl steps out, one he recognizes-she's been with Sam each time he visited, probably a friend. Maybe something more? Dean smirks at the thought as he steps out of the car and flags her down.
"Hey sweetheart, I'm looking for one Sam Winchester-you wouldn't know where he is, by any chance?"
The girl is obviously startled by his approach, but she smiles at him anyway. "You're not Dean, are you?"
Dean is taken aback, but decides that honesty is the best policy-in this case, anyway. "Uh, yeah, that's me...how'd you know?"
She smiles, and extends a hand. "I'm Jessica, nice to meet you. Sam talks about you all the time, you know." Her face falls. "I'm sorry to tell you this, I guess you don't know-Sam's in the ER."