Dean was the fearless big brother, the defeater of things that go bump in the night and bullies. When Sam was little, he was the fixer of booboos and broken toys. You don't manage to keep both Sam and John Winchester alive and in line without a spine of steel. So, Dean was definitely a superhero in young Sam's eyes. However, Sam also wasn't blind. He'd seen his brother's leg bouncing up and down on the car ride over—the nervous tapping on the dashboard that he tried to play off as drumming along to the music. The rhythm did not match at all.

Dean might have sat far away in the waiting room, knowing he wouldn't be able to camouflage his nervousness if Sam was looking at him. But Sam still heard him anxiously humming Metallica. Once they were in the exam room, he saw his already shaking brother turn what normal people would describe as white as a ghost. Except they knew ghosts weren't white. Dean had made the mistake of looking at the nurse holding the sharp-tipped syringe for his tetanus shot. So, what could a good little brother do except play the hero himself and hop up on the exam table and grab his hero's hand while he faced down his kryptonite? Dean stopped shaking immediately when he felt Sam's touch.

Like most heroes, he received no thanks. Instead, Dean responded with, "I'm 18 years old, and I'm not a freaking girl Samantha! You don't need to hold my damn hand!" Yet Dean didn't let go. After he told the nurse to go ahead, he almost crushed Sam's hand and exclaimed, "Son of a bitch!" She was still swabbing his arm. Sam still didn't let go till the band-aid was on.