Dean steps backward, feeling a jump in his chest and his heart skips a beat and begins to race. He drags a hand through his hair and rubs his face, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

"God, tell me what happened. Did something...I mean, did someone hurt him, did he hurt himself, is he ok?"

Jessica placed a gentle hand on his arm for a moment before pulling away. "He's fine, Dean..I mean, he's going to be ok. He was walking with me to class earlier today, and somehow he managed to trip and break his wrist. The doctors say he's going to recover completely, no surgery, but they were so busy that Sam had to wait for a few hours before they could take more xrays and put a cast on, so he made me come back here so I wouldn't miss class. I was just going to go get him, do you want-"

Dean let a breath out through pursed lips. "Thank god. Thank you for, um, for taking care of Sammy, that's great. I'll go pick him up right now and get him back here."

Jessica smiled again, and pulled out her phone. "That sounds good. Tell him that I'm thinking of him, and ask him to text me later, ok?"

Dean was already walking back to the car, but he turned around long enough to call over his shoulder, "Sure, yeah, will do!"

Klutz, Dean chuckles in relief as he starts the car up again. Just like Sammy to make a fool of himself when there's a pretty girl near by. Shame, really.

The ER is pretty full when he gets there, but he has no trouble sweet-talking the young woman at the desk into showing him to his brother's room. The kid doesn't look bad at all, really, more annoyed than in pain, but Dean's heart still clenches at seeing him again. He pauses outside the room and looks through the window for a few seconds before quietly opening the door.

Sam glances up as the door opens, then does a double take as he recognizes his visitor. "Dean! Wait-what are you doing here?! Are you ok, is Dad ok?"

Dean can't keep a smile off his face, so he figures he might as well give Sam a manly (but this time, gentle) slap on the back to make up for the show of emotion, then shoves over and sits down. "Dad's fine, I'm fine, but I stopped by the college to pick you up, and Jessica told me you'd gotten yourself in a mess."

Sam ducked his end, cheeks flushing. "Yeah, pretty stupid, really. I can't believe I had to go and break my wrist right before exams! I can't write for a week until they switch my cast for something lighter, and I have exams in ten days."

"Hey, it's ok, Sam, we'll work something out. How about I stick around for a little while, and help you? You can dictate to me, I can write your notes and then quiz you. Whaddya say?"

Sam raised his head. "Dude, really? That'd be great, but I know you're not really into studying. Or anything intellectual, for that matter," he said playfully.

Dean punched him gently on the leg. "Hey! Just because you're Mr Geek Boy, doesn't mean you're the only one who knows anything about learning. I know a thing or two. Let's get you out of this place, and I'll show you."

Sam's smile lights up his face, and Dean can't help but smile in return.

Half an hour later, Dean grunts as a pile of textbooks slip from his hands to the coffee table in Sam's dorm. American History, Biostatical Genetics, Engaged Philosophy, Crime and Culture in 21st Century America. He pulls a face and cracks his knuckles.

"Do you seriously read this junk? C'mon, I better your teachers go on more dates than you do. I saw a bar in town, let's go study a couple of drinks, huh?"

Sam rolls his eyes like he's five years old again, and tosses a wadded piece of paper in Dean's direction. "College is actually pretty cool. I don't mind the work, and believe it or not, I don't require any of your 'help' picking up a date."

Dean chuckles at the memory. Sam had been eleven the first time he'd asked a girl to a dance, and totally spooked that she wouldn't like him. He'd dragged Dean in to help him get ready, and…

"I'm sorry, that was kinda cruel, I'll admit. But you looked so funny and helpless getting ready, and I needed something to do! 'Sides, girls love perfume."

Sam smiles at the memory, the years having removed the sting of an injured pride. "Well, what you somehow failed to tell me is that girls love perfume for themselves, but not so much on their male dates, Dean! You start on that again, and I'll tell Jessica how you had a crush on your eleventh grade English teacher."

"Dude, she was hot, ok? Damn pretty, that one."

"Oh my god, Dean, let's just get started with the homework, ok?"

By the time dinner rolls around, Dean is pretty sure his brain is about to collapse. His hands are tight from writing so many flashcards, his back is sore from leaning over the table, and he's dying for a beer.

"Alright, Sammy, I think that's all I can take. Let's go grab a couple of burgers and see if this town has any worthwhile pie, ok?"

No answer.

Dean turns around, heart beginning to hammer even as his rational brain tells him to calm down.

Sam's stretched out on the couch, the textbook he was reading flopped open over his chest, injured wrist propped up on a pillow while the other one dangles above the ratty carpet. His face is smooth, his breathing even, and Dean feels a warm fondness build in his heart. Kid's been working too hard, probably, the dork. Dean gets up, and quietly flips off the radio, then draws the blinds and allows darkness to settle over the room.

Sure, they have problems, but when it comes down to it, family is all that matters.

Fin